softieyn - 💜
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| She/her | 20s | ♒ | INFJ-T | ♟ | 💜 | Avatar&header image not mine-credits to the rightful owners❀

206 posts

Before I Leave You (Pt. 59)

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 59)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi need to break each other one more time before you're ready to heal together. Hobi needs to leave.

Tags: Angst, implied self-harm, m/c tries but doesn't actually hurt herself, burns, gaslighting, triggers, PTSD, dissociation, depersonalization, hurt/comfort, fluff, lots of tears, confessions, severe depression, self-esteem issues, allusions to past sexual abuse, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, I promise it's not quite as angsty as it sounds,

W/c: 20.3k

A/N: this is the darkest chapter i've written of bily, but it's also probably the most hopeful one too <3 a lot of the more hopeful lines were inspired by those little fancy tik tok slideshows so i can't take complete credit. Don't hurt yourself with this though. Check the end of the chapter for some more notes!

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Before I Leave You (Pt. 59)

It takes three days for you and Jungkook to talk it out, and when you do- it’s mostly because of Hobi.

Hoseok's just coming home from work, his jacket bundled to his cheeks to keep out the cold. He’s surprised when it’s not just Noodle waiting for him on the front porch but you too lounging stubbornly on the outdoor furniture (if anyone could lounge stubbornly, you would manage too).

It's so fucking cold outside. It's hard to believe just a few weeks ago any of you left the house without thought.

Your hair's ruffled like you’ve been sleeping through the steady fall breeze, tempting Hobi’s fingers, covered with the biggest and thickest duvet that the pack has to offer. The living room curtains move; Yoongi's been watching you. He probably tried to convince you to nap inside, out of the cold.

Hobi can't help but agree; You’re unwilling to relinquish one of your favorite napping spots despite the crispy leaves gathering on the deck like dust bunnies. The blanket can't possibly be keeping you warm enough. Hobi makes his footsteps soft when he walks close. A vaguely disproved rumble builds in his throat and he pulls the blanket up higher, tucking it around your cheeks.

“Yoongi got me a heating pad.”

Hobi jumps, hand over his heart. You crack one eye, a smile building, “Jesus fucking Christ- I thought you were asleep-” he flops down onto the chair next to you, trying to settle his heartbeat. He still smells faintly sour, the sweetness in his caramel scent going burnt.

“If me being cold is why you’re upset, get in line.” Hobi flushes and the living room window curtain moves again. He's a little chagrined at being found out. But you don’t tease him anymore, wordlessly peeling back the covers and letting him in.

The inside of your little nesting bundle is suprisingly toasty. Your body hot to the touch when you lean against Hobi’s shoulder. Playing with his hand under the cover while he talks about everything and nothing in particular. Hobi’s job mostly. What he did today. The people they had in at the shop. everything.

You’d told Hobi a few nights ago (hushed like your care instructions are a proprietary secret) that sometimes you just like being talked at without any sort of need to respond beyond a hum or nod. Like when Tae talks about all the books she's reading. It’s soothing, just listening to him.

You sit like until the doorknob Jingles, in that faintly metallic broken way it’s always had.

Jungkook comes to the door, his pretty dark eyes hope wide. Announcing his presence with a little noise that sounds a little
off, like Jungkook’s already preparing himself for something unpleasant.

That unpleasant thing being you probably.

It's been 3 days since your ill-advised rendezvous in the old bedroom turned sex dungeon and you still haven't said more than a word to each other in passing. You look away, avoiding his eye contact.

“Hey,” he licks his lips, voice falling, pussying out at the last second when he sees you're not alone. He'd taken your request not to tell anyone to heart but that only makes this more difficult. Jungkook has always been shy when it comes to difficult but necessary things. He's a little too used to the others facilitating these kinds of conversations.

“Either of you want to go for a run er-“ He scratches at the nape of his neck looking at you pointedly, “Walk?” You sigh and after half a breath Hobi responds for you. Hand tangling with yours under the covers, the comforting touch hidden.

“I think we’re okay, I’m a bit tired,” Hobi says.

It's not exactly a lie; Both of you had stayed up pretty late last night after your nightmare woke you. Watching funny TikTok's that had you breathing short heavy breaths of air against his neck. As close to a laugh as you can ever get when you're sad. But he knows you won’t say it, that you won't respond to Jungkook. On a good day, you have trouble articulating your wants.

It’s been a few days since you’ve had a good day. A few weeks, if Hobi’s being honest.

Everyone had also sort of noticed, that you and Jungkook have been orbiting each other like planets the same way Jimin and Tae keep their distance these days. Although their distance is more an emotional one and less of a physical one like yours and Jungkook's. Tae and Jimin are a lot better at pretending that nothing's wrong.

Jungkook's hopeful smile falls. But he nods, blinking rapidly before he thuds down the stairs to start stretching his body. His tight black shirt hugging places that are distracting even on the easiest of days and today is no different.

Only now, it feels like you're not allowed to look.

“Okay, something happened- you usually aren’t so quiet around Koo- spill” Hobi nudges your shoulder with his. “Jungkook definitely is not all sad bunny without reason.”

“You are such a gossip.”

“Gossiping is supposed to be good for your neural pathways.”

“You sound like Namjoon.” You don’t want to say it, don’t want to talk about it.

You’re not sure what you expect but Hobi tickling the information out of you isn’t it. But his fingers creep up your sides, voice uncharacteristically whiney as they dig into your soft spots, makeing you squirm.

“Come on just tell me,”

The giggle startles out of your chest and you scuffle trying unsuccessfully to twist out of the way of his hands. you hold his hands away from you so that he won’t dig them into your sides. Laughing, both of you half-splayed on the outdoor furniture. The blanket starting to pull onto the floor. It’s so cold today- but where Hobi’s hands dig into your sides you’re warm.

The two of you miss Jungkook's singular longing look.

“Alright- alright fine. Just- stop.” Hobi listens immediately. Sitting back and pulling you back to sitting by your wrists. He’s feeling a little too accomplished, the hum of alpha made omega submit like a flame flickering through his blood.

He always feels a little too accomplished when he makes you smile, when he makes you laugh, and when he makes you better. He feels a little too accomplished when he can make you happy and no one else can not even your mate.

(but that particular thought will only be useful a few days from now- You stupid idiot alpha.)

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you start. keeping your voice down so that jungkook won't overhear. “Jungkook- the other day, we were uhm, having sex” Hobi reaches up and zips up your sweatshirt, it's another one of his that you’ve taken to wearing religiously. The one with sewn-in patches on the front.

“Oh, you’re blushing.”

You bury your nose in the blanket. “Shut up- am not.”

“Just spit it out,” He teases. At least you have the energy to tease me back today.

You sigh, resting your cheek sort of across his knee, although the blanket cushions you too. it takes you a second before you start. “I gave- or well- tried to give him a blowjob. But I started crying in the middle of it.”

Hobi winces, trying to school his face into a mask of impassivity. He might be getting a little too used to you crying with how the last few nights have gone. But he understands why the shift might have been startling for Jungkook.

It’s hard to keep speaking but Hobi's hand in yours makes it easier. “He keeps trying to apologize, but there’s nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who pushed myself when I knew I shouldn't have. it's my fault, not his."

“You don’t really believe that do you?” Hobi feels vaguely sick, and he can tell from your looking away that maybe you do.

“I don’t know if it works that way. Apologizes can’t cancel each other out. He doesn't need to say he's sorry, I just need to get over myself.”

Hobi slips out from the blanket, braving the cold after being curled up with your warmth feels particularly chilling. He calls Jungkook’s name just as he starts to run. Luckily, he's barely 5 paces down the sidewalk.

“Koo! Wait up! We’re gonna put on warmer clothes.”

“What are you doing?” You hiss, whisper hushed. Hobi’s already pulling the thick blue blanket off of you extinguishing your protective barrier of warmth. He helps you up with a handout because Jung Hoseok is a gentleman under all of his delicately artful streetwear. His jeans today have painted sunflowers on them. They complement the yellow beach trees behind him and his auburn sweater stunningly. His smile feels just as bright.

If you were a plant, I’d put you where it’s sunniest.

He doesn't know when he started looking for excuses to hold your hands, but he does so right now, tugging you inside.

“I don’t think you should leave this; I think you need to talk it out. Don’t be like Tae and Jimin.” You whine at that but only because it’s true. Tae and Jimin have been dancing around each other for weeks and are showing no signs of getting better.

Jungkook is only too happy to turn his run into a walk. The three of you must look like quite the trio. You in your too-large pink sweatpants and Hobi’s sweatshirt (an extra sweater added underneath that Yoongi had been only too happy to provide). Jungkook in one of his form-fitting all-black jogging outfits that hugs all of his muscles. He favors the expensive athleisure because it’s sort of his job to look effortlessly sporty. And Hobi in his paint splattered- ripped at the hem- baggy jeans and orange beanie. Ears sticking out at the side.

The cold wind whips at the three of you as you walk.

Your muscles burn, thighs aching as you climb the hills. Another reminder of something you need to work on. But they slow their pace to accommodate you. “Joonie and I used to drive late through this neighborhood just to look at all of the old houses."

It’s a bright fall day, and the houses do look awfully pretty with all of their colorful frames and shutters and scrolling woodwork. It’s a reminder of what your house probably looked like half a century ago, what it probably will look like if Yoongi has any say in the matter and completes his dream of fully restoring it.

The cold air burns your lungs. You’re not talking about it until you are until it’s all you can talk about. Hobi’s not sure how he ended up in the middle between the two of you as you and Jungkook sort of shout at each other. It’s not shouting exactly, just the tenseness of raised voices that echo across the concrete and asphalt, startling a mean-looking calico cat that sits on the edge of a rock wall.

“It’s not your fault Kookie-“

“If it's not mine then it’s certainly not yours.” Bratting out won’t help this, you aren’t someone who Koo can or should brat to. His tone is the kind he uses with Namjoon and Jin when he’s feeling like he needs a strong hand- and Hobi is too aware of how lacking in strength you are right now.

Hobi flicks Jungkook on the shoulder. “Be nice, you’re both just stressed about this.” Hobi’s a good mediator. It’s good that he stays between the two of you when you talk like this.

Jungkook kicks at a rock and it scatters with a sharp sound, “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you didn’t like it? I just- I’ve been struggling to get it.”

“Because-“ you break off, wondering if it’s painfully honest or just plain painful to admit this. The truth won’t change even if what you say does. Maybe you owe it to Jungkook, to be honest with this. “Because- What you want matters more to me than what I want.”

A frustrated groan slips his lips, “Okay but why? Why is that? Maybe it just makes me selfish but l can’t imagine. Help me understand-”

You pucker your lips and Hobi knows it’s because deep down you think an awful lot of bad things about yourself. Hobi is only too familiar with those kinds of thoughts, how they built and built, and eventually condemn you to behaviors far worse. If you don’t believe that you deserve things like food and kindness- then it’s easier to believe you don’t deserve things like a choice in what happens- you don’t deserve agency. Hobi understands without having to ask.

But Jungkook doesn’t.

“Jungkook, I’m trying not to call you privileged but there are certain things with you that are given that aren’t with me.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, annoyed that your argument has become this, “yeah? Like what-”

“You’ve always been pretty and looked after in your relationships Kookie-”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah but you’re pretty too-”

Your hands are tightened into little fists, “You don’t get it, those things are not a given with me. They weren't until you guys. It’s hard for me to believe in our relationship the same way you do, It's why I make like fucked up choices sometimes. I can't forget it- I had to fight for every inch and even now- even though I have everything I need I can’t stop fighting or else it will go away forever. That's what it feels like, even though i know it's not- it feels like i still have to make sure-" you make a frustrates sound,

"People like me do not get things without giving something up Jungkook, that's what i've been taught until now." Jungkook starts to argue, to say that they won't go away and yet you snap at him. "You never had to fight in the first place. So doing things I don't want to gain that security- it's a sacrifice I've always been willing to make."

Thinking thoughts like that is a lot more damaging than Jungkook realizes, but Hobi knows. You’ve had this exact conversation before. Maybe Hobi should step in and put more than just his physical body between the two of you. Maybe he should do something to stop this from charting into unsafe territory.

"That's like- so fucking shitty."

"It's not shitty, it's just a fack Jungkook."

"No- I meant that's shitty of you to say about yourself and about us."

Hobi knows that what you’re trying to describe is not the same thing as hating yourself or fearing you aren’t worth love. Because secretly worrying is different than knowing it as a truth.

Truth and Secret. Two sides of the same coin.

But maybe as the people who love you and are trying to help you, maybe trying to be worth something for yourself and not them, is what they’re owed.

You won’t get anywhere, you won’t get better, if you keep thinking and believing this. it might be up to them to get you started, but once you’re standing on your own two feet you’ll have miles to go. Hobi knows. Because he’s a few years further along with this- this mental rehabilitation of your sense of self than you are.

You need to at least do something about your dysmally low self-esteem. And that something isn't letting them walk all over it. Hobi’s not sure he should be the one to tell you that. Maybe Jin should, or Yoongi.

Hobi's not sure you're ready to hear that yet.

Yeah- Yoongi should be the one. Wanting someone you love to start loving themselves is never an easy predicament.

"You- you're their baby Kookie." Is all you say, like that justifies it. “You’re their baby and they give you everything you want. So don’t blame me for following in their footsteps.”

“Yeah- but I'm also my own person!” Jungkook stops walking wrapping his arms around his elbows. But Hobi knows he’s not cold. Now that you’re moving he hardly feels the breeze. You, on the other hand, are still shivery.

“You don't get it! If you told me tomorrow that you never wanted to touch me again it would be okay- I’d get it and we'd all get over it."

Jungkook is not looking at your face when he says it. “You say you’re not given the same things as me, but you’re not even letting me give you that. I’m equally as capable of making choices for the betterment of the pack as you are, I’m equally as capable of deciding what I think needs to happen. That is not just a one-sided conversation. I don’t want you to-"

He breaks off, frustrated at the ability of his words to accurately help, to heal. This has never been what Jungkook's good at. The stone that Jungkook’s been kicking, small and round and grey, sits between your worn shoes.

“That’s not the point of all of this is what I’m trying to say. Love is a process, not a single event and it's not just one sided. We need to be able to give and take, and take and give. None of us just want to take from you until you've got no more left.”

You have picked up one bad habit from Namjoon it seems (Namjoon's the worst offender, but Jin and Yoongi and basically everyone else in the pack treat Jungkook like this from time to time, it's hard not too- when he's as sick as he is.)

You forget sometimes, that Jungkook is not fragile. Regardless of his health issues and the strain it puts on him. He is both older than you and just as capable of handling things on his own. Probably a little bit more capable honestly, given your general mental difficulties.

('Mental difficulties' is a kind way of saying that you're fucking useless on one of your sad days, but tomato tamato.)

There is a rotting pumpkin on the sidewalk, it looks like one of the neighborhood kids must have kicked it in. You kind of feel like that.

“I’m sorry for making you do that, for making something happen on terms that you didn’t agree to.”

“I’m sorry for not checking in with you part way through, for not double checking.”

Hobi steps back so that you can hug Jungkook, and Jungkook feels very very warm underneath the thin cloth. Muscles working off their energy, he nuzzles into the side of your face, Jungkook smells best in fall time- honey-dripping from autumn leaves. All golden too.

The heavy goldenrod sways. And you feel a little lighter. Just a little. You don’t know if it’s enough. From behind Jungkook’s back, Hobi smiles at you. Wide and genuine- the kind that lights up his whole face and makes your chest feel all fluttery. And when you pull back it’s you that ends up in the middle of your trio. You feel boxed in in a good way, both of their shoulders towering above you, barely at eye level with Jungkook’s.

When a car comes close and the sidewalk gets narrow, Hobi presses both of you closer to the grass. Jungkook grabs the back of your sweatshirt when you stumble over a crack in the concrete.

“I know it kind of defeats the purpose of exercise and it's cold but, wanna get some ice cream?”

"Fuck yes.”

“Can we cuddle when we get back? Post-walk cuddles are the best.”

“Of course we can Koo.”

You walk a little farther into town, you're already very close. A few streets down is Hobi’s flower shop and he’s very familiar with this area. The dusty old sweetshop has been in this town probably longer than any of you have been alive. with pink rubber linoleum and eggshell blue walls. The shop smells like waffle cones, freshly pressed and bubbling. Smells like the tail end of summer- you're honestly a little bit surprised that they're open this far after the official close of the season.

Both of them pause at the door. Noses lifting, breathing in deep. A delighted pur slips past Jungkook's lips, and a happy alpha grumble stirs in Hoseok's chest.

Hobi doesn’t know how he never placed it, but it’s your scent. Your scent is not just warm baking bread although that’s what you smell like usually when your happiness has mellowed out to a neutral humm. But this- the warm waffle sweetness on the air- that’s what you smell like when you’re happy. When you laugh. When you smile.

Hobi's teeth ache.

For a second, he and Jungkook just stand in it. Basking. Your cheeks are two pink splotches, like pieces of cherry saltwater taffy. “Don’t you dare say anything.” You hiss, shy and a bit embarrassed. The air around you gets imperceptibly sweeter and Jungkook steps up to the counter to order once you tell him what you want. Hobi grabs your hand, squeezing it lightly.

You raise your eyebrow at him, feeling lighter than you have in days. You know it won't last, but still.

“Do you still have that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

~-~

You’re right. It doesn’t last.

Eventually, your sadness reaches its boiling point. It always bubbles over one way or another.

It’s bad that it’s just another fucking ordinary day, isn’t it? How messy. How inelegant of you, that sadness should consume you on a random fucking morning.

It’s Tuesday and the world is ending, but the world has always been ending for you, hasn’t it? Your life has been a slow apocalypse. Things have always been harder than they should be for you and that’s the real tragedy in this. If you could only learn to keep your head down it might be easier.

Do not worry. The worrying is going to kill you. (This isn’t just a lesson for you, but a lesson for me too.)

You need to break. You and Hobi need to break again before you heal right. Like a broken bone or a pair of broken hearts that need setting. You’re never going to get there without a little bit of violence.

It’s so strange how quickly everything turns, one day you’re okay and then the next you’re not. You wish that there was a rhyme or reason, that everything could just be fixed with love.

On this particular Tuesday, that violence comes for you.

It’s been 19 mornings since you and Hobi held each other’s hands and found a dead body and on this day you feel like you’re wading through sludge. Head all fuzzy, like a corpse that wasn’t ever found and instead buried in muck and crawling things. Buzzing around your head are errant thoughts.

Things like hide hide hide, can’t let them know, can’t show sad or else, or else or else or else. The unseen consequences hover there, like a ghost in the corner, hungry and bitter. Waiting for you to show your belly. Waiting until they can hurt the most.

You never thought you’d feel afraid of breathing too loud again. But as you feel the pack get up around you, you struggle to keep your breathing measured and even. Playing dead.

Yoongi’s there, you can tell because he pulls you onto his chest when Tae has to scoot around you, his long hair brushing the top of your head when he buries his nose in your hair. and murmurs that he'll be down in a minute. Everyone else has already woken up and started the process of getting ready for work. The nest is faintly warm in spots. But you wouldn’t know- having curled your knees to your chest to take up as little space as possible.

He strokes your back, waiting so that you're not alone when you wake. You fake it for as long as you can. Reluctantly turning to press your face into his chest and hide when you know for certain it's only him there and that everyone else has already gone downstairs for breakfast.

He kisses your forhead and then your eyelids and then your mating mark. Feeling the even beat of your blood against his skin like a promise, like salvation.

“It’s gonna pass. You know it will.” Yoongi says, soft because he can tell you’re shaking with the effort of hiding it. Your eyes are glassy when he pulls back to get his eyes on you. Each of his touches is reassuring and gentle, feather-light as he pets down your arms to your wrists, pulling your arms around him. permission to cling, permission to hug him like you need too.

But it feels like there's a bubble between Yoongi's hands and your body. Each of his touches just another layer of skin or clothes away. Too far to touch.

“My little love, my sweetheart,” he says, voice rough. Searching your eyes for a hint of the usual you. Persing his lips when he finds little of it.

You’ve got pretty eyes, Yoongi doesn’t say that often enough. Although he’s heard Tae compliment them. They're even beautiful when they're like this- all spaced out. Frightfully blank and absent of their usual twinkle. Like you’re not able to concentrate on anything. Dissociating.

Yoongi’s body feels too small to properly guard you. Like an eggshell cradling careful golden yolk and bland milky white. Keeping you tucked around his ribcage won't keep you safe. As alive and necessary as his heart is, soft and warm here and just as prone to bleeding.

You struggle. Barely breathing around it. And Yoongi’s heart lurches. His gripping going frantic. He's just about to tell you not to struggle today (you don't need to speak if it's going to hurt) when you finally choke out.

“I’m fine.”

It's whisper soft and Yoongi hums in agreement even if he knows you’re anything but. If you need the certainty of saying that, then he’s going to let you have it.

Maybe that’s his first mistake, letting you act like nothing is wrong when it so clearly is.

"I can do it," you tell him when he moves to help you get dressed for the day. He's worried you won't do it if he doesn't make you but you want to tell him you're not a fucking child. Even that seems like it would take too much speaking. Too much effort.

He goes down the stairs first. Leaving you to pull on a thin sweater and then Hobi’s sweatshirt over it. You cried into the hem of his other one last night, the one with the patches on it that's your favorite. Now it sits on the floor like a discarded corpse. You debate putting it on but it smells too much like you. Too much like Nightmare and not enough like sunshine.

If Jin were here and not downstairs already and if you were capable of speaking maybe he'd recite some careful statistic. Is this another poorly studied omegan behavior? Wrapping scented items around you like a nest that you can take with you wherever you go. Something that omegas do when they feel truly threatened.

But nests are supposed to keep the bad things out, and the only bad thing in this house is currently wrapped in Hobi's sweatshirt. Standing in the dressing room like a ghost. The pink walls look greyer by the second like you're leaching the color from them. Trying not to burst into tears for no reason at all.

People don't cry over their favorite sweatshirt being dirty.

You're cold, your fingers went numb the second that you detangled yourself from Yoongi and the nest. the second that hobi left from it really. When Hobi leaves he takes your warmth with him.

You wonder when that happened, when his clothes started to smell like you, and yours started to smell like him. You don’t want to think of the implications of that today, your heart is too heavy with fear to carry any love.

Jungkook’s In the entryway when Yoongi goes down. Tying his shoes and getting ready to leave for his early class. He says good morning while he stuffs his work out bag with not one but 3 protein shakes,

Namjoon left very early for a surgery but the entryway still smells faintly of the pack alpha. His coffee scent twined with the smell of a freshly brewed pot. The faint gurgle of it finishing echoes off the tall ceilings.

Yoongi woke up with him, had watched as he spent an extra few minutes pressed along your spine speaking softly over your sleeping form. Words hushed and secret like confession or maybe a wish. If you could absorb Namjoon’s encouragement via osmosis, it would have worked by now. His voice gentle enough to keep off the nightmares, a dream catcher of sorts.

"You're doing so well pup, I'm so proud of you, each day that you get up and you try- you're so strong. I know it's hard- I know you're so tired, but try one more time for me today, okay? I love you so much. I can't wait to see you when I get home."

Yoongi watches him get ready from the steps, watching Jungkook tie his shoes. Feeling lucky to do so. Jungkook looks up, sees him, and smiles. It’s short-lived.

“How’s today, from 1-10?” He's asked the same thing every morning this week, although you'd never guessed it and Yoongi would never tell on him.

“Probably a 4,” he sighs, lying a little because you're honestly at a 3 at best. But if Jungkook thinks that you've gotten worse since yesterday then he'll just spend the whole day worrying over it. Stressing when his texts go unanswered. Yoongi hasn't seen you even touch your cell phone since yesterday morning.

Jungkook sighs, resting his head on the banister so Yoongi can run his fingers through his hair. No matter how much he wants to stay home and help Yoongi look after you he can’t. It never feels good leaving when a packmate is in distress. The rest of the pack are in the same predicament and Yoongi knows it. Their day jobs are an ever-present pain in their asses. Especially with a packmate so obviously in need of their care.

“She’ll probably want to sleep until you get home. Go, I’ve got this.” Yoongi is too used to this, too used to corralling you like a fragile ghost.

Jungkook knows Yoongi has this in hand but still, since the other day, he’s felt at least partially responsible. But Yoongi doesn’t know about the blowjob. He might never know. If you don’t want to tell him then Jungkook won’t. You've gone mostly back to normal since the other say, and Jungkook won't make this worse.

Yoongi checks on you when you don't immediately come downstairs, unsurprised that you've decided to go back to sleep. You sleep and sleep and sleep. Through breakfast and then lunch. Until Yoongi can no longer concentrate on the space downstairs, and the gnawing of the mating mark disturbs his quiet. He's only halfway through framing out the exterior walls. He takes a plate up to you and sits by you as you struggle through it. Finally convincing you to at least come downstairs and sit where he can watch you.

Hobi would take you out for ice cream if he was home, knowing you’d lick up a Sunday in a heartbeat. That’s what he’d do. But Yoongi just pokes at your plate and tells you to take one more bite.

It’s a little pathetic (a lot pathetic really) how bad you are at taking care of yourself when you get sad. But hours slip by like minutes. Trickling through your fingers.

You don’t really know what you do in the afternoon. The moments pass foggy; there are pieces of sea glass on the table outside. The porch is drafty and cold. When did the birdfeeder run out of seed? there is a small bird looking at you, pudgy grey and brown, its beak makes no noise. It turns its head wondering if you're food or foe or statue.

The floor is all messy with fallen leaves and the window boxes don't have flowers in them anymore.

You watch the autumn light bounce through the red maple and it's leaves until your pack comes home. One kiss a piece on the top of your head.

Tae’s finger rubs your forehead the next time you're really aware. Her nail scratches against your scalp. “Sorry, I got a little bit of lipstick on you." She pulls you from the outside furniture and ushers your cold body inside. Noodle follows, was he sitting in your lap? His tail raised behind him like a warning flag.

When the pack comes home, they bring with them bags of food, because Jin and Jimin had gone to get groceries after work hadn’t they? That stings a little.

Over the last few months, you've developed something of a routine with Jin and Yoongi. It's become a habit to make an outing out of the small things because you like the small things. The little domestic indulgence of going to the store with the people you love. Getting asked to go get things that they've forgotten. Like a little scavenger hunt. You can’t remember if they offered to come home and pick you up. Maybe Yoongi told them you weren’t up for it today.

You’re hurt until you check your phone.

Jinnie: (5:01 pm): Hey, Minnie and I are gonna go to Costco after work, wanna come? we can swing by the house on our way through.

Jinnie: (5:06 pm): You know how much he loves the parfaits.

Jinnie: (5:23): Pup?

Jinnie: (5:30) (Missed call)

Minnie &lt;3 (5:32) (Missed call)

Jinnie: (5:35): Just let me know okay? I’ll bring you one home if you want!

Minnie &lt;3: (6:45) (Missed call)

Jinnie (6:47): Minnie got you one anyway <3

You stare down at the missed calls, wondering what else you've forgotten and what else you've missed. It feels like you’re suffocating slowly but the others aren’t. The hard edge of your phone digs into the side of your hand as you hold it tight.

The others seem perfectly content with the amount of oxygen in the room so you’re sure it must all be in your head. They rush around you, at 3x speed and you slowed down to a reverb. Jungkook laughs and hugs you to his chest, moving you out of their way with a hug because they've got a lot to unload and you're in the way.

You are taking up necessary space. Too underfoot, Too close. Too needy.

You pretend that there is nothing to be worried about.

Yoongi's been getting dinner ready, probably since he made you come downstairs, you help him while he directs the others because the idea of curling up in the other room and doing nothing seems just as terrible as performing domestic labor. Yoongi abandons the pots on the stove after asking you to look after them.

That’s what this is, isn’t it? A performance. Smile and no one will think anything’s wrong. Lean into Jin’s touch and say you’re sorry for not responding because that’s what he expects. Take a bite of Jimin's parfait when he hands it to you even though you can't really taste it, the sweet friction of raspberry against your tongue, the tang of spoiled dairy. Leave it on the counter when he walks away, but only when he turns his back.

It’s a delicate balance, and you meditate your scent to be as unoffensive as possible. Dissociating so lightly and gently that you know you hardly smell anything. You don’t want tonight to be a bad night. You won’t let it.

Even Namjoon ducks down, sniffing curiously at your neck, once quick, and then deeper, “You’re not wearing blockers, are you?”

You can’t let him know, can’t let anyone know. “Of course not,” Namjoon surveys you and you can tell your ruse isn’t believed. You hasten to make another excuse. “I feel like I have a bit of a cold coming on, it’s probably just allergies.” Speaking when you need to lie, when you feel like you're dying, is frightfully easy.

You are almost keen and lean into his touch when he puts a hand on your forehead. Stupid omegan impulses. You already need so much care, just this touch is enough to make you whine for more. Namjoon’s touches are in high demand and in short supply. You won't take them from the others.

“You don’t feel warm.” He sucks on his cheek, eyes flickering to the door where Jimin waits, arms ladened with bags, asking for help.

You feel like time is slipping away. Slipping faster than you are.

You might as well be frozen at the bottom of a like because it feels like nothing can reach you here. Not Jin’s kind looks or the pregnant glance they share over your head. The parfait sits on the counter gathering condensation. “You should have it before dinner,” Jimin says, ignoring Jin’s usual rule of dinner first desert second. Even Jin doesn’t comment. You just hum in response. Stirring the pot carefully.

Jungkook has to ask you three times if you think that the fruit's fine on the counter or if it should go in the pantry. When he asks you what’s wrong you say that you’re just distracted- even though that’s really not it. The pell mell tumbling of your mind is the one thing you can’t escape. Everything is just below the surface, still water on top and a riptide below. You have never been more focused on making yourself small.

Not enough, it’s never enough, why haven’t you been putting more effort into this, why haven’t you been doing more? It’s so easy for them and yet so hard for you. Why are you being a baby, why can’t you get over this? Why are you taking up so much space?

You’d really been hoping that maybe just maybe- you’d be able to keep it like this. You can't shake the fear they’re gonna start pulling away from you soon. How many more times will you miss Jin's calls before he stops calling? You know they're tired of this. Tired of you. With every little sweet word they say. Every time Namjoon bends down to peck your cheek before he goes outside to unload, pausing in between each trip.

Everything is perfect and idyllic and fine with the pack But it doesn't feel that way.

You don’t need to be needy when you already take so much. They can hardly get one night of uninterrupted sleep because of you. Maybe you should start sleeping downstairs.

Don’t look at me like that, don’t look at me like you can tell that something's wrong. Don't look, don't look, don't look.

You make yourself help. Muscles straining, a little dizzy, and that’s because you didn’t eat earlier, right? You sway, and Jimin watches you. comes near. Knuckles rubbing against your spine, you don't look at his face, keeping your gaze trained on the food. "You wanna go cuddle on the couch pup? You don't need to do this, I can-"

"Jiminie? Where did you put the bag of sushi rice? I can't find it and I wanna put all the grains in the same place." You are not the only one with food related anxiety. Jungkook's tense face appears in the doorway and jimin's necessary concern is thankfully diverted.

You put on a brave face, "You can go, I've got this" Jimin looks like he doesn't believe you. But Jungkook is obviously stressed about this impromptu re-organization.

But there are bags and bags of food; more than you and Yoongi ever needed when it was just the two of you. It's probably two grocery carts full at minimum. With the amount they eat it will barely last a week.

There will be another chance, you know there will be. Jin smiles at you when he comes inside, lips tugging at his cheeks in that familiar beautiful way. His button-down shirt rolled up at the elbows. To his credit, it only looks a little strained. It goes genuine when you burrow into his chest, nuzzling in that small pupish way that you know he likes.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage, it doesn’t feel like enough. You shake, but Jin only leans against the counter and pulls you properly to his chest while the others rush by, Jimin’s car is packed to the brim.

“It’s okay pup” Jin noses along your shoulder and you tilt your chin letting him drink deep. He offers no other sweet supplications. No other encouragements, and oh- that stings. Because any other day he’d have some little joke or jab that would make you smile. Any other day he’d stay with you and let the others do the unloading, but today, he just kisses your forehead as he lets you go.

How selfish of you, to expect more when it’s clear that Jin is giving you as much as he can right now. How selfish of you to expect anything with you are so incapable of giving anything of substance in return.

The spread of pots on the range is what you’d expect from a meal meant to feed eight people. There’s a pot full of soup to warm you up from the inside out and a shallow pan with oil. Rice cooking fills the air with warm clean steam. The breaded chicken bubbles and pops, covered by a screen that Yoongi had told you not to get too close to because of possible oil splashes.

It could hurt he said. Be careful.

There’s even a salad on the side, the cucumber chopped into pretty little chunks. Feta cheese and a few different kinds of dressing at the ready. The knife on the cutting board is sharp and capable, but that’s not what you’d go for.

Yoongi tries to organize your packmates into putting the right things away in the right place rather than just leaving them in a vague state of disarray. He and Jin are a little particular about how they keep the kitchen. Their distracted, not focusing on you even when they come close.

Only one packmate lingers in your vicinity. The snack cabinet in particular is a little too full of half-open chip bags and Hoseok is given the task to throw out the old ones (who’s really going to eat the crumbs anyway?). They’ll replace them with the new bags of gluten-free rice crackers and other things that Jungkook can eat. He’s less likely to go for the sugary and salty snacks that the pack keeps in the pantry if he has his seizure-safe ones close at hand.

Maybe it's tricking him into eating healthy, but the pack is good at that- gently guiding you all into healthier behaviors. Doing the same thing to you too. Keeping sweets and fresh fruit out because that’s what you’re most likely to reach for. Eating a little unhealthy is better than not eating at all.

The pot is on the stove, burning. You know what burns to feel like- the clarity of pain that cuts through the confusion. This haze that you just can't seem to get rid of any other way.

Hobi comes back into the kitchen before you can do anything and you look away from the pot rapidly. He's trying to say something to you that you only hum at, “I don’t know how the fuck Jk opened up 12 different bags of Tostitos-” It’s a pitiful attempt at small talk, to get you to talk at all. What’s wrong- what aren’t you saying? Let me in.

But you just hum, stirring the pots. Hobi keeps you in his peripheries. His eye is on you. Concentrating on you as you slowly stir the pasta.

Once upon a time, you were used to the semi-constant pain in your stomach and the dizziness of hurting yourself in that way. You aren’t above pretending that not eating is anything but that. A way to hurt yourself slowly over time. If you’re going to hurt yourself you might as well be effective with it and get something out of.

Your body isn’t even worthwhile now. The last time you looked in the mirror (it’s been a few days) there was nothing but soft curved lines, from your shoulders to your hips to your calves, everything soft and cozy about you is everything that you hate.

Hurt used to be marked in the harsh lines of your hips and your ribs. A quiet pain made public. Made visible. Both evidence and remedy. A soft punishment. Even if you stopped starving yourself and started eating, the desire for hurt and the need for it has never really gone away.

But there are three ways that you hurt yourself; with food, with sex, and with this.

You feel so fucking useless. You couldn’t even respond to Jin’s texts. He deserved a response, didn’t he? He does so much for the pack- but you couldn’t even do that. You left him hanging. disappointing your pack omega is something you can't bear. Jin only wanted to try and include you in something and yet- you fucked it up. You always fuck it up.

It’s just a single momentary lapse. A re-lapse. That’s what people might call it.

Hobi says something to you but you’re not listening.

You can just touch it for a second, press the hot pot to the space between your thumb and your wrist. It will look like you’ve turned into the pot on accident. That’s what you’ll say if anyone notices later. You could probably hide the mark until tomorrow under the sleeve of Hobi’s sweatshirt. Maybe the red-hot skin will bubble so you can pick at it. Maybe you'll be able to make the hurt last a little longer.

It will hurt and then everything will be clear again. A perfect exchange. With the pain, you’ll be able to eat tonight, and then they won’t be so worried. It will keep them off your back for a little while longer. You just want to pretend for a little while longer. You might not even have a nightmare tonight. You’ll feel it every time you touch something, every time you touch them. You’ll pay for the emptiness in your chest that way. The pain both punishment and reminder.

You’re not above exchanging one bad habit for another.

You’re moving, already decided on it. Reaching towards the hot pot, bracing yourself for a momentary lash of pain and then endless ache. Bracing for it.

Hobi’s hands are crumpling up the plastic bag when he turns. Ready to throw it in the garbage can. It feels like he watches you reach for it in slow motion.

He’s moving before he’s even really registered what he’s doing. Instincts taking over, energy and adrenaline bursting. Alpha's protectiveness rankled into something that looks like putting his body between you and the pot before you have a chance to move another inch. He backs you up against the island in three smooth strides. So abruptly that he’s probably a little too rough with you.

But panic makes Hobi rough. Makes him less careful.

The stone countertop presses hard into your spine- hurting. Hobi’s hands you’re your wrists are biting and tight, your heartbeat thudding against his fingers. Holding you up, keeping you from falling as his body makes you stumble.

There’s a high-pitched buzzing in your ears, the low drone and hum like an airplane moving overhead. You look up at him.

You have never seen Hobi’s eyes this wide, dilated with fear and panic, but even now- it feels so far away. One second it is just the humming and then cacophonous, the sound of his breathing, but bubble snapping crack of oil and the smell of burning things. Not you- not your hand, just the food. Hobi’s looking down at you, horrified.

Luckily, he got to you in time.

The world tilts on its axis as you look up into Hobi’s face. Eyes wide with fear. Startled. Not there. Face stricken and a small little half-breath hitching.

There is a single moment of silence, where he should let you go, should remove his hands from around your wrists. Your heartbeat thuds against his palms. There. Beat beat beat, and Hobi’s pulse is thundering in his ears too. The beat of his soul excited and going double time to match your rhythm. Crescendo and Diminuendo all at once.

Yoongi’s at the door, watching the two of you. Behind your back.

And then all sudden, your brain is rushing over itself, panic at being discovered, a near frantic need to hide. “That wasn’t- I wasn’t” you stutter. Trying to lie when things are bad is so hard. The words caught in your throat. It’s okay, you can just pretend can’t you?

“Where you-” he can’t finish the sentence, can’t make his mouth say the words because- fuck- fuck-

He knows what you were just trying to do, he’s seen it. In the evidence of little burns on your fingers, and small bruises on your hips from 'bumping' into things. He’s seen you giggle and move away and say “I’m just clumsy” but you’re not just clumsy. It’s not just clumsiness when hurting is all that you can think about.

“I’m fine Yoongi. I’m fine- just tired.” How many times have you said that over the last few weeks? Dozens? Hundreds?

You roll your eyes in a last-ditch effort, feigning annoyance that Hobi is only too familiar with, “Hobi doesn’t know what he saw. I’m fine.”

Hobi feels like he’s just been slapped. The words sting where they land. And Oh, now that feels like a betrayal. That’s gaslighting, isn’t it? Hobi knows what you’re doing, just reacting because you feel threatened but he’s all too familiar with that sort of lying.

He’s heard it a thousand times- the last time he loved a woman- love was only like that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pull away from kissing you, it’s all in your head, I know you have a hard time believing it when we say we want you, but really Hobi- we can only try so hard. What? We aren’t abusing you. All relationships are like this. You've just never been in one before.

"It’s all in your fucking head.”

And oh- oh fuck. Hobi feels like he’s about to start screaming at you. Feels like someone’s just pulled the rug out from underneath him. You are anything but fine. He feels like he’s going to be sick.

Yoongi's eyes flicker from Hobi to you, mouth settling into an unhappy line.

Hobi's breathing is shaky and brittle, loud in the quiet of everyone waiting, everyone watching. His heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s going to fall out and land at your feet.

It's yours anyway.

Oh.

Oh.

Hobi can’t breathe and love has never been crueler. But that’s the truth, isn’t it? Both you and him are frozen. Love, like Medusa’s kiss, has made you both statues. The rest of the pack is too.

Even standing there, even hurting him, Hobi still loves you. He looks at you and he aches, a bone-deep sort of wanting, a claim that not even disappointment can touch. Hobi has always been willing to compromise too much in the name of love. To be hurt by someone and still love them is a special kind of devotion.

Yoongi moves, cutting through everyone standing like statues. Yoongi gets between the two of you.

Yoongi doesn’t scruff you often, it’s just not his style. But Hobi finds himself watching every second of it as his pretty fingers close around your neck, pulling until you sag against him. Until the words get pulled from you by your mate's touch, choking out the truth from you. If anyone makes you honest it’s Yoongi.

"Nope, I'm not letting you hurt him to hurt yourself, I refuse. Try again sweetheart."

Yoongi's fingers pull the words out of you in a heaving sobbing breath. The power of the mating mark bearing down. Yoongi's beta pheromones echo out- for the first time unencumbered and unrestrained. Your knees go weak, and you bend.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- I’m sorry- I wasn’t-”

But all of your excuses and lies fall short. You pick your head off Yoongi’s shoulder and move, reaching out for Hobi weakly.

Hobi backs up so quickly that he bangs his hip against the kitchen island. Shaking his head. Avoiding your touch because- oh- he’s crying so hard he can’t see. Hot and furious tears wet his cheeks.

“Yeah- fuck that- fuck this- fuck you- I’m done- I’m out.”

He’s not running, but it feels like he might be as he moves to the door, yanking his jacket off of the hooks so hard he rips the collar of it. But he’s suffocating from all the scents in the room. A cacophony of sadness pulling his instincts in one direction and his mind pulling him in another. Dizzy with them.

“Hobi- wait-”

“No. I can't- can't do this.” Torn between two upset packmates, Yoongi has you and Jimin and Tae start in Hobi's direction. But he raises a finger at them in a warning. "Don't you fucking dare. I mean it."

He loves you, doesn’t he? That’s what all these moments have been, even if Hobi had never thought it. He sees every moment with you like a supercut:

You and him sitting by the ocean, his head in your lap. You and him on opposite sides of the nest, him telling you that it’s okay for you to sleep here. That moment in the oceanside shop- watching you organize his sea spoils, clutching the poem that Tae wrote. Hobi still has it somewhere didn't it say something about keeping you like one of his safe and special things in his pocket?

The moment just before when you’d almost fallen into the ocean and Hobi had felt like for a moment his heart was about to tear out of his chest in panic. When he'd scolded you for not being careful.

This feels just like that, only there are no waves to save you from. Hobi can do nothing but look at you, small and scared and so dangerous in Yoongi’s arms. being held because if he lets you go right now it might have disastrous side effects.

Hobi’s still in the supercut; The moment in the flower shop, both of you behind the frosty glass, side by side. Always next to him, in his passenger seat. Your spot.

Your spot is right next to him and his is right next to you.

How did he not realize? Why did it take him so long to notice this? This living breathing wounded thing in his chest is love. Soft and delightful and terrifying. It's a wounded love, one that needs to be looked after like a wilting flower but still- it's a garden nonetheless.

If home is not where you’re from but where you’re wanted- then does that make Hobi your home?

That first night when you’d been leaving the coffee shop and fallen, seconds before he’d fallen too. You both have matching scars on your hands from that night. Small and barely there. Hobi hardly thinks about it. They’ll certainly heal over with time. But how could he forget that you have matching scars?

Both you and Hobi have always been a mirror, the same image reversed, identical hurts but maybe not identical people, like a funhouse version of the same trauma.

Running from his emotions is simple and easy especially when it's as scary as loving someone so hurt.

Oh he doesn’t want you to hurt. He can't stand it. He loves you, standing there getting scruffed by Yoongi, crying and hurting and dying slowly. But all of you are dying slowly, so what if it takes 80 years roughly- for the dying to stick?

He loves you, and there has never been a more terrible truth. That you have hurt him maybe. The sting from you trying to gaslight him and the others is only just fading and yet- he loves you anyways.

He remembers the night you went racing when his car got dented. He should have known. He should have known when his first instinct upon verifying you were alright was to kiss you senseless.

Hobi looks at you one last time from the open door, standing there, hand on the smooth molding that Yoongi painted shortly after the pack moved in, after Namjoon had accidentally broken part of it while moving in some furniture. Every inch of this house is stitched with familiar moments like that.

How many mornings has he watched you get your coffee? Or that time you’d gotten sick after dinner and Hobi had made you tea to settle your stomach. His heart is clenching so hard at all the memories that it makes him let out a single choked sob. A broken breath.

He can’t bear it. Seeing you look so broken and trying to hide it. Reaching out to him from your mate's arms. He hates it, hates that you’re hurting. That he can’t do anything about it.

At least Yoongi is there, Yoongi will keep you from hurting yourself again. Yoongi is the only one who doesn’t shout his name. Giving Hobi his tacit permission because he knows- he must know.

Maybe Yoongi has known since the beginning.

Hoseok slams the door shut behind him.

~-~

The pack is silent for a few moments after Hobi’s departure. Stunned long enough that you can hear Hobi’s car start with that same rush of gas and nitrous oxide. Everyone is silent as it screeches away from the curb. Too fast. Howling as it tears off down the street.

Far away you think you might hear something honk at him.

They just stand there- looking at you and you feel like you’re under a microscope. Yoongi steps away from you, cupping your cheeks. “Oh pup.”

But your pleas get softer and softer. Jimin is the first one to move, not to you but to the food first. Turning off the burners and pushing the pots back, away from where anyone could touch them. Dismantling the threats before he tends to you.

Jin moves next, because Jimin doesn't go far enough- clearing the pot clear off the counter and dumping them into the sink- food and all. Anything to cool the metal down. anything to make that threat inert as quick as possible.

Yoongi has big rough hands that cup your cheeks, murmuring soft sweet nothings as you cry and cry. Maybe these tears are the ones you choked back. Every time something violent happened to you with Geumjae, after every backhanded slap and forward-facing insult finally released. You saved your tears away for this moment when the sadness wouldn’t stick.

If you bottle up the sadness, it has to get out somehow.

Namjoon beats the rest of them to you. Crossing the room and enveloping you and Yoongi in his long arms. just as quickly you're not just wrapped up in him but everyone. Jungkook all but throws the milk onto the counter in favor of literally trying to pick you up. Tae’s wrist smells rosey where it’s pressed close across your shoulder; anything to get her hands on you. All of them close close close, and you at the center, a careful little bundle.

You say you’re sorry, again and again, but the words are met with shushes. When you are hurting so uncontrollably, what do you possibly have to be sorry for? You bite like a hurt dog, and you never blame the dog, do you? So why blame yourself for hurting, for not doing better when better is just so hard.

Being found out doesn’t feel good. None of this was ever about getting more care or concern- this feels truly awful. Your secret out in the open. Found out. You push at Yoongi’s hands, choking out, trying to be articulate but you’re so soggy.

The others resist for a second, mistaking your fighting for something else, Jimin's hands fall tentatively onto your wrists, unsure if he should hold you back. But Yoongi- Yoongi knows, looking down at you, the hair on the back of his neck curling against the nape.

“Please go- please go after him-” Yoongi doesn’t want to. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t want to leave you like this. Can hardly stomach leaving you.

“Sweetheart you just-“

“Yoongi.” Your voice shakes, but you need him to understand you. Hobi just slipped through the door and you want to wonder what will happen if he doesn’t come back. “Go after him- please- Please. Make sure he’s okay.” Thats what I need.

It takes Yoongi a single look to decide it's okay to leave you. He makes eye contact with Namjoon, Tae, Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook to verify that they’ve got you before he moves. Bursting into action. He’s unable to disobey a request from his mate. If this is what will make you better, if Hobi is what will make you better, then Yoongi would drag him back from the gates of hell by his goddamn ear. That stupidly fast stupid fucking car and all.

Yoongi can’t help but think that if you could see the way you look right now- if it was him in your shoes- you’d have never done this.

Yoongi’s kiss to the top of your head is a little forceful, a little tearful too. You don’t realize that he’s been crying too until he wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve. Yoongi stumbles, almost falling face first and tripping over the carpet as he looks back. “Jin- Namjoon- look after her. Jimin- don’t let her out of your sight for a fucking second." Joon nods, your pack alpha easily tolerates being ordered about at a time like this.

The pack keeps their voices soft and hushed, the ruined dinner abandoned in favor of comforting an obviously upset packmate. The unanimous decision gets made to usher you upstairs. Their first priority of course is getting you somewhere away from where you could hurt yourself; a place peaceful and safe and comfort incarnate.

The nest.

You don’t know how you really end up there, on the edge of the nest, Jungkook is already inside with fresh blankets. An emergency nesting bundle is already on demand for exact situations like this. He might have said something about there already being one in the direr downstairs getting warmed up. You might have missed it. You're missing a lot of things right now.

When did things that used to feel comforting begin to feel so mundane? It’s not the same as taking it for granted, you’d give anything to be comforted by Jungkook's reassurance that he'll make the best nest he can for you.

You’d give anything to be comforted when Namjoon leans close to kiss your forehead. Lingering there, with his lips against your skin but it feels hollow. Holy mouths cradling the words of god and finding them foreign. False gods and lying prophets. Namjoon's kisses cannot cure everything.

The room is dark, only the light from the bathroom and the changing room spilling into the open space.

“Were you trying to touch the pot to hurt yourself, sweetheart?” You go statue still. Not shaking your head, not showing any sign that you’ve heard Namjoon’s careful prodding at all even though you must have heard his whispered question. Jimin’s hand goes up and down your waist, gently coaxing you into movement. How long has this been going on? How long has the pack been unaware?

“Have you hurt yourself that way before?” Your hands are both clenched into tight fists, the bones and muscles protesting. He drags your hand across his lips, kissing your fingertips, still not looking at his face.

“Don’t be angry with me- please don’t be mad Joonie-“ Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek.

“We’re not angry at you really, we’re not. I’m not. I just want to help, okay? I’m not going to scold you or punish you for this, I don’t think that would help just-” Namjoon swallows, “you’re not going to try again? Are you?” Are you a danger to yourself?

“No” you choke out, “I don’t know. I-” Your words cut off, Your hand is so small when it darts out, circling his wrist, holding on vice tight, your voice rough and ragged. “Namjoon, I think there’s something wrong with me. I think I’m sick.”

Namjoon's breath hitches, and he waits, waits for you to ask him to take you to the hospital. but it doesn't come. Namjoon holds you, his hands around your back vice-like. He can feel the frantic beat of your heart through your shirt.

“It’s okay pup, if there’s something wrong, I can fix it.”

Most of the time, he hopes it's true. This time he knows it means he’ll make it so. He hesitates for a second before detaching from you. Because if you really are sick then maybe a doctor is what you're missing. Maybe you don't need pack alpha Joonie right now, maybe you just need Dr. Kim.

“Gimme a second, okay? I’ll be right back.” You barely have time to miss him or make grabby hands because Jin takes his place the second he steps away from you. Jimin too- descends upon you as Namjoon heads downstairs, taking them two at a time. Almost barreling head-first into Tae catching her at the last second.

“Tae” her name sounds like a wretched gasp coming from Namjoon’s throat, he catches her by the elbows, “could you find me some like- some band aids or something? I have bandages in my bag but-“

Tae looks devastated, eyebrows pulling together, She lets out a shaky breath, eyes glassy, mascara already smudged. “Then she really did it then? Is that why-”

“No- gods no- thank fuck” (Namjoon does not believe in god, but he does believe in the power of Hobi, which is equally as holy in his mind.) “I’m just going to try something different than just cuddling. And I think Band-Aids might help.”

Tae whipes her tears, smudging her eyeliner too in a little panda circle. but she's emboldened with this task to complete. Determined. "Okay, bandaids- got it."

Upstairs, Jin cups your cheeks pushing back your hair from your face and rubbing the tears away with a thumb. Jimin busies himself with unzipping Hobi’s sweatshirt and pushing it off your shoulders to get a look at your arms. You know what he’s doing, checking your body efficiently for marks. Any evidence of hurt.

All of the burns on your hands are days old. Half of them actually were accidents.

Jimin's fingers linger over the burn scar on the inside of your arm, so faint it's barely darker than the color of your skin. The scar is the very first one he ever dotted with burn cream and wrapped with aloe vera. Jimin remembers the very first time he held your hands like this, the very first time he was allowed to.

Have you been hurting like this for that long?

Jimin’s jaw clenches, struggling to keep his scent comforting and mild. It’s only when he verifies that you didn’t actually just get burned a few minutes ago that he nods. Jin speaks, his voice a soft purr. Things are happening so fast, there are so many people around you and yet so few.

Their focus feels suffocating as you cry and cry and cry. He leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, and Jimin continues his careful touches up and down your arms. Soothing the skin there- treasuring it in a way he didn’t before. He'll never take it for granted again wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you snug.

“Oh, my little pup, we’ve been neglecting you haven’t we? Jinnie's so sorry" There is something achingly soft about that. No Daddy, no omega title, just Jinnie. Maybe Jin is just Jin for now. Just exactly who you need him to be. No other esoterisies or other defining egos- just your person.

He coaxes you gently to sit on the bed and half on his lap. Pulling your thighs over his hips to cradle you in a way that would be sexual any other time but isn't right now. Holding you by the back of your neck and the small of your back snug to his hips. Pressed to his chest, smack dab between his pectorals really. buffered by every uneven breath.

"There we go, come nest with me- let me- here-” The nest is the safest place for an unsafe pup. And you sag into it. Jin looms over you, a warm living waiting blanket. Even though it’s a little dark in there. Even though you don’t feel the safest, the pack still is safe, you know that logically- that has to count for something.

Despite your trying, your chest goes leash tight when Jin guides you to it. You perfunctorily start to fluff a pillow. Sniffling. Because you know what being in the nest with Jin and Jungkook usually means. Even if you really don’t have the energy for nesting right now. You perform all that you can.

Until there are arms rope tight around your waist, and a hard body behind yours. The tears drop, pitter-pattering against the coverlet and Jungkook hisses gently.

“No. Stop. Just let us do it.” Jin shakes his head too. You never thought Jungkook and Jin would tag team you like this. But you're in the middle of a Jinkook sandwich. Jungkook teeths restlessly at the back of your neck, not enough of a scruff too soothe you.

“For tonight- this is my nest and you’re my pup, it’s not your job to nest tonight, it’s not your job to do anything but let us look after you.” You gulp, nodding even though you can hardly see.

Namjoon comes back, holding his doctor's bag. You shift back to the edge of the nest where Jimin takes off your socks, feet, and cracked red nail polish that Tae did a few weeks ago on your toenails. The sole memory from a night of happiness stubbornly refusing to fade even though so much has changed.

Maybe the happiness is stubborn too- not just the fear and sadness. Namjoon smiles down at you. Plopping his bag down on the floor (not the nest- because he will not cross-contaminate it). His stethoscope has his initials on it; KNJ in little gold writing. “Alright, lean forward for me.”

You lean forward under Namjoon’s arm so that he can slide your shirt up your back and his hand too. He warms the circle of the stethoscope between his palms before he presses it to your skin.

you breathe when he guides you to do so. “You know I’m not like sick sick- what I said earlier- I didn’t mean like this.” You don’t say something like what you want to, something like mental health isn’t really on the same level as other health- like Jungkook’s seizures or Tae’s hormones. because you know they'd just argue.

Namjoon shakes his head, “Nonsense. If you say you’re sick, then I’m going to treat you like you are.” Namjoon slides the stethoscope from the bottom of your ribs to the top and then over.

“Breathe deep for me. Good pup. Doing so good for me.”

Jungkook fluffs the edge of a blanket, setting one duvet like a layer cake over top of another. “It could be sexy doctor roleplay, we haven’t done that in a while only like- without the sex.”

“Jungkook- now is so not the time.”

“Sorry.”

“Eyes up here, follow the light for me pup, good.” Somewhere between breathing deep for Namjoon and letting him put the blood pressure cuff over your arm, you've stopped crying. He double-checks when he times it. Taking it again just to be sure.

“Your bp's a little high. So no physical activity for the next few hours, it’s probably just the stress. I want to take it again when you've calmed down just to be sure.”

Namjoon gets himself into the nest, caging you in, his medical bag forgotten for now. You feel- you feel so dirty when he looks at you, dripping with sadness as he pulls himself close. Tae comes barreling up the stairs, clutching a little box in her hands, “They were in one of our beach bags, I knew I saw them somewhere weird!”

Namjoon holds out his hand and Tae hands them over. Namjoon sits on his knees, opening them up, already unwrapping one when you spy them in the half-light.

“Band-Aids? What for? I’m not- I didn’t bleed or anything.” You look down at your lap, shame, and relief tightening your fists. “Hobi stopped me.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need them.” Namjoon guides your wrist face up and applies the first one. It's just plain tan but the little baggie that Tae has a few colored ones; ones with hearts on them, even a blue Ryan one. They quickly get distributed amongst the others. Tae delicately places one on your elbow.

“That one wasn’t-“ you try to say, but Jin still presses a kiss to one on your knuckles. Jimin to the ball of your wrist.

“You’re wasting band-aids on me” but they hold your hands, diligently putting one on each little mark, each little thing that might be a mark of self-hatred so keen that you need to make it real.

“They don’t hurt anymore, I don’t even like pick at them a lot.” Jin levels you with a suspicious look. There are maybe less than a dozen little marks up and down your arms. Most of them were accidents, a few were accidents that maybe you saw coming but didn’t avoid, and about 3 or 4 were purposeful.

They don’t discriminate, putting a band-aid on each of them. All of them get covered one by one. Jungkook puts a large one- the kind meant for knee scrapes on one that’s maybe the side of a penny. “Doesn’t matter. if you’re hurting- if you were hurt- we want to fix it for you.” They cover your arms with Band-Aids, and each of them gets one or two marks to cover up, crowding around you.

They don’t even put them only on your bruises and bumps and burns but in other places too. Tae puts a tiny pink one over your mating mark, the torn part at the top of it from Geumjae’s teeth- not the smaller brighter mark in the center that’s Yoongi’s. Jin hesitates, pulling the collar of your shirt down before he puts one over your heart.

Tae watches, thinking of a poem she saw on TikTok a few days back. 'Let me love those bruises out of you, we’ll love like children with a box of bandages, we won’t ask where it hurts, we’ll just kiss all of it.' She could probably find it if she tried hard enough. Maybe later- when you’re sleeping. She already knows that the pack isn’t going to sleep much tonight. The alphas will probably want to switch on and off if anyone can even convince Jimin to sleep at all. Tae knows he’ll take Yoongi’s request of 'don’t take your eyes off of her' literally.

Jimin's on your other side hand around your waist, keeping you from scratching at your skin, maybe you did that a few seconds ago. Your skin burns a little either way. You’re having trouble keeping track of everything that’s happening. But Jimin is watching you like Yoongi said too. He hardly blinks.

When they’re done they let you put on Hobi’s sweatshirt again. Namjoon waits for it to be on all the way before he presses your hand, pulling you to sit next to him, on top of him really.

Namjoon thinks about what this house would be like- if you weren’t here. He thinks about what the pack would be like if you weren’t in it. An image that once upon a time felt complete- now makes his heart pucker sour.

Oh, my fragile little love.

resting against his chest in much the same way that you rested against Jin's, He plays with your fingers, letting you press them against his, how small they care compared to his. In another world maybe you are big and scary. Maybe this is the price you pay for being so small. Too big emotions fill your head begging to be expressed in any way they can. Namjoon plays with your hands while Jin and Jungkook make the nest.

Jungkook ducks low, nuzzling into your cheek, pausing where he was incorporating your big blue blanket tight around you.

“Do you want to like- take a shower or something? Wash the sad off?” You shake your head stubbornly, pressing your cheek further into Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if that would help.”

Jungkook pouts, trying not to be hurt that his suggestion is shut down. Your eyelashes flutter. You are not a fan of confessing things, but Jungkook deserves a lack of
whatever this is.

“I don’t- I don’t like feel clean- like ever.” Your pack waits for you to explain it further, to go into it. And it takes you a breath. You really don’t like talking about it- the grubbiness that’s always lurking just below your skin. The kind that can’t be scrubbed or burned or starved out.

"I can wash my body 100 times and it never takes away what he did from me." Your breath hitches, and you look down at the Band-Aids dotting your arms like constellations. What they hide. "He took so much, sometimes I wonder if you'd love the unamaged version of me more. Sometimes it’s so frustrating not having evidence. Not having a wound that I can nurse and heal and It just- feels better.”

You press your hands flat to your stomach, and you take their silence as something else, some sign of disgust or otherwise (when it's really just devastation. Because what else can they feel upon hearing that there is a version of you that they will never know?) Panic bubbles up and you make excuses because that's all you can do. “It’s fucked up, I know it’s fucked up- You don’t have to say it. Fuck I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m sorry-”

Jimin pulls you snug against him, your hip against his hip, and you realize Jin’s struggling to keep himself from shaking. Your thoughts and words ramble over each other when you’re like this. Anxieties unbound like a wild dog. Jin covers his mouth and turns away for a second to have a quiet freak out about it.

“Don’t apologize. I-“ Jungkook ducks away, hands tight on the blanket. A confession for a confession seems fair. Even if the others will be mad. The words come in a rush once Jungkook’s made the decision to spill them.

“Sometimes, when it feels like I haven’t had a seizure and my body needs to have one, I go to McDonald’s after work and pig out on fries so I can trigger one. Because that feels safer, having control over when I’m gonna get hurt feels safer.”

Namjoon goes deathly still. And Jungkook goes cagey, shoulders pinned to his ears. Jin finally turns back glaring at him. The whole pack glances from him to Namjoon. You wonder if this is what they feel like when they're watching you and Hobi.

“Jungkook-“ Namjoon’s tone is that of a scolding alpha, but your scent eases. You pull yourself over to Jungkook, getting your hand on his and holding it tight.

“No- I get it, I get it so much. I know exactly what you mean.”

Control, and a lack of it. It’s so scary how it can make you act. Control is sometimes more necessary than food or happiness or love.

Namjoon leans in to kiss the shell of your ear rather than shout at Kookie. You whine, a choked needy sound that quickly gets feverish when namjoon mouths at the nape of your neck. an alpha bite so close is a soothing thing.

You squirm a little, both needy and overstimulated a bit. This is the right kind of contact, the kind you usually like but you’re too restless to enjoy it properly right now.

“Do you think Hobi’s going to come back?”

“Of course, he is.”

“If Yoongi can’t get him we’d bring him back.” Jimin and Jin make pregnant eye contact, terse and dark. Harrowing.

You’re not paying attention to Jungkook looking down at his phone vibrating in his lap. “Speak of the devil” he murmurs, unheard by all, Jin gets you a cup of water and hands it to Namjoon. Who feeds sips of it to you like a baby bird.

Jungkook's phone is as bright as a passing comet, hope visible to the naked eye.

Hoe-baby (8:56): If she sleeps before I’m home you better get her a fucking nightlight or something. Don’t let it be dark when she’s sleeping. Pass it on.

Hoe-baby (8:56): Don’t tell her I’m texting you this either.

Hoe-baby (8:56): I mean it Koo

Jungkook (8:57): 👍👍👍

Jungkook (8:57): but also 👀

Hobi doesn’t respond but Jungkook is generally obedient if the stakes are high enough. An idea lights his eyes (bright and sparkly). He slips from the nest with a “one second” and heads downstairs, his absence goes uncommented on as he disappears into one of the closets, searching through winter coats and gloves and mittens for the box labeled christmas decorations.

The others keep you substantially occupied in his absence. “My pup.” Seokjin murmurs, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek. The gentle contact draws your teary eyes from the nest to meet Jin’s concerned gaze. His calming pheromones swell thicker in the air, instinctively trying to soothe you without even touching you.

How selfish it is to take this night; this could have been a good night if you’d only-

Jimin yanks you clean into his lap, and you go from sitting sort of curled up over yourself in Namjoon's lap to lounging across his body in two seconds. “Stop it.” Jimin’s words are a growl, his touch forceful as he hunches over you. “Stop whatever you’re thinking about right now and listen to us.”

His thumb slides down your cheek from your ear to your chin. “Your scent does this thing and your pupils constrict you know- when you think self-deprecating shit.”

“Sorry.” you squeak, letting him tilt your head to the side. It feels better to be under his touch, his harsh hand anchoring. “It’s just hard-I’m just,” The wobbliness of your voice betrays you.

Teeth feel sharp when they nip at the back of your neck making your legs turn to jelly. Jimin gives you another soothing nip after the first, several in quick succession- Making your scent burst sweet Just a little. it’s a start. He dips down and laps at your salty cheeks, his thumbs continuing their steady circular rhythm on your scent gland, releasing the tightness in your chest forcefully.

It’s very very hard to be sad with Jimin scruffing you like that, pulling the skin taut. Choking you a bit so that you can feel every breath. It’s settling. Makes you sniffle and teeter when he lets you go. Namjoon doesn’t pull you back to sit in a more equal position, instead watching you with a warm satisfied gaze. He nuzzles closer to Jimin’s side. Pausing to drag his cheek down the side of your head, his short-cropped hair feels all spiky.

In Jimin’s lap, a safe cradle. Namjoon’s hands skim up and down your arms, lingering on your hands. Namjoon swallows thick, there isn’t an easy way to ask. “You told me not to push you, you know, and I won’t but-” Namjoon's warm palms cover yours, “you make it a little hard not to.”

“I know.” Your throat is tight with anguish. You’re surprised you have any more tears left.

“Was there something- anything- that we did? Or didn’t do?” Namjoon has been waiting to ask about his rut, waiting for days since Hobi confessed he had his suspicions, his suspicions that obviously must be correct.

“No- there wasn’t anything, it’s just me Joonie- I promise.”

Namjoon swallows. He doesn’t like to cry and has never been an easy crier, but it's a struggle to not let them take him right now. “I wish I could fix it.”

“You do fix it." You try for a smile but fall abysmally short. You don’t trust your wobbly voice enough to speak again, and carefully snuggle into Namjoon’s chest.

You’re breathing sort of heavy, sort of shallow too, the kind of breath that sticks when it rolls beneath your rib cage and feels like a death rattle. Jimin presses his hand to your stomach, holding it like he can keep the anguish at bay. He does for a second. A silent sentinel. A guard. He’s living up to Yoongi’s orders and following them to a T like the good alpha that he is.

Jungkook reappears, clutching a green tangle in his hands, you mistake it for one of hobi's pathos vines- “hang on, I just have to check to make sure they’re working-” he plugs them in, holding the Christmas lights like a mini constellation of stars that light him up from below. All of them work. "Ah-ha!"

“What are you doing with those?”

“In the nest- Hobi-” Jungkook breaks off, worried after a second that mentioning him will reaggravate your wounds.

You sit up a little bit more, “Hobi what?”

"He texted. Said you might want some of these, for a nightlight.” Jungkook holds up the lights and they clatter into each other with a faint tinkle. they're the brightest thing in the room.

You deflate a little, but Namjoon rubs his arm up and down your side. "I'm not a kid, it's not like it's the dark it's just the nightmares-"

"For the record, none of us would judge you if you were scared of the dark."

"Yeah- Hobi's scared of snakes and I'm scared of microwaves sometimes."

"I'm scared of spiders."

"Tae- Everyone's a little scared of spiders."

"I'm not!"

Their teasing brings a small smile to your lips, even if it is a little bit wet. Namjoon ducks down to press his lips to your forehead. “He’ll be back before morning sweetheart, I promise.”

“Okay,” you look like you don’t have any more energy to argue- to be sad over this. Re-settling against Namjoon’s chest. Watching Jungkook detangle the lights while Jin ducks downstairs to get the command hooks (dissatisfied with Jungkook’s chosen thumbtacks, the last thing you need is these falling on top of you while you sleep)

Jin stands with Tae, feet depressing the nest as he helps her, passing them back and forth. Jungkook found two strings of 100, and it's more than enough to go up and down the sides of the nook a few times and crisscross the top.

“Wait- let's plug this one in over here so we can turn it on with the light switch-”

"No Jk not like that."

They go back and forth, making quick work of it. Slowly the nesting nook brightens. Not too bright, but just enough that you can see the light when your eyes flutter closed. It might not be that late, but you're bone tired.

“Are you sure? Isn’t this gonna like- keep you all awake.”

Jimin sits up, “I got you like- a million silk face masks Tae. In that one box?”

“The silk night clothes set you got me from that fancy Italian designer.” You know the one, Tae wears them a lot, you wear them too- even though her pants are a little long on you. Tae leaves and gets the night masks (stored away in a drawer where Jungkook has been putting all of her accessories in the other room).

She retrieves them, a whole handful, and leaves them by the front of the nest for everyone to pick the one they want. Jimin snags the black one. Jungkook the purple one with the red hearts and Namjoon the one with the frog eyes. Each different one, a different color. They’ll sleep with them on tonight for you if it means it makes you feel a little safer.

“Isn’t that- too much?” You ask, “We don’t have to leave them on.” Tae pulls herself over kind of sprawled across your legs, with Namjoon on one side, Jimin on the other, and Tae at your front. You’re about as safe as an omega could possibly get. Surrounded on all sides by your alpha's.

And still, you miss Hobi.

You can't believe what you did, what you said to him, even though it was in the heat of the moment.

“It’s not too much, not if it helps."

Tae sits close, holding onto your leg for a second before you switch spots, and you’re lying across Namjoon and across Jimin and across her. Namjoon’s hands tease at your skull. Big big hands that hold you and keep the world at bay while you watch Jin and Jungkook set up the Christmas lights.

They’re a little too messy where Jungkook puts them up and a little too orderly where Jin strings them but together it’s the perfect mix.

You watch them with the alpha, the pretty twinkle, the little shadows that they cast on the ceiling. Namjoon sighs “It’s kind of crazy that humans made those just cuz.”

“I was ready about death myths the other day,” Tae says, too close to the point of this all, her voice a low murmur. But her tone is casual. The idea of death has never been scary for Tae. If anything in those brief moments when she came out it felt a bit too much like salvation. you don't know what about namjoon's comment made her think of that- but tae's mind has always worked in mysterious beautiful ways.

stories always sound a little too real, a little too close to being torn into existence, when the words fall from her tongue. “In the Aztec religion they say that a dog guides you along the first like- layer of the afterlife. And if you didn’t have one in this life you can’t get across.”

“We had farm dogs, growing up,” Namjoon says, “I don’t know if that counts.”

Jungkook snorts, and at the same time you both respond, “There’s always Hobi” “Dibs on Yoongi”

One second you’re looking at each other, heads tipped back in laughter, rolling over and pressing your face into his heaving chest, and the next you’re crying. “Sorry- sorry” you’re half laughing half crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” sad and happy at the same time. it feels good, being sad-happy feels so good when you have people that take care of you in the right ways.

And still, You miss Yoongi. And still, you miss Hobi.

You curl away, getting your cheek on Tae's thigh. She must not have shaved in a few days because it feels all stubbly, but in that pleasant worn sensory sort of way. You wipe your tears on her skin and she makes a fond sound. “It’s okay baby, you cry as much as you need to- laugh as much as you need to too.”

Tae is looking at you, eyes darting from your lips to your hands to your eyes, especially when you rub your clenched fist across them, lying in her lap looking fragile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just” Tae breathes deep and slow, so that she doesn’t cry, “I just look at you, and I love you, and I just want you to be alright.”

For once in her life Tae doesn’t have the words. Sitting there with you a mess on the inside and a slightly more put togeather mess on the outside. Her bracelets jingle when she wipes her eyes.

Her chest feels too tight, too small for all the love inside of it (boobs are where the love is stored, and Tae's still a B cup at best). Butterflies flutter around her ribcage but it's always that way when she looks at you. You reach up to tangle your hand in those bracelets. They're a mess of silver chains and smaller ones that Jimin got for her. Some of them she got when she was still play-acting as a boy. She still wears them almost every day.

“More than anything, I just- I love being with you. I love being a girl with you. Being with you makes it easier to love me, and the idea that I can’t do the same for you- that hurts." Her voice quiets. "You’re so strong- I think about it a lot you know. That first day.”

You can’t stop the sad smile from tugging at your cheeks. “When I shouted at that alpha for you?”

“Yeah, that. If there was someone I could shout at, I’d scream. If there was a story I could write for you that would make you better I’d write until my fingers bleed.

"I look at you and there’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you. If I could be a dog, I’d wait to take you to the other side. I’d wait forever.” Her tears feel treacherous, unwanted, because now you’re crying again too. You start to pull yourself over to her only to have her shush you. You lie your legs across her legs and cry together, sniffling, wiping at each other’s faces. You murmur that you love her and she says it back too.

“Can you read me a story?” You sniffle, eyes darting to the others, cautious "The way you do when it's just us?" But Tae nods easily. This is easy to concede. She'd give you whatever you wanted right now regardless of the potential for judgment (the pack would never judge her, would never dream of it but the fear is still there.)

“I think I really do just need to sleep.”

Jin stoops to give you a good night's kiss. "We can talk more in the morning, once you've had some real rest."

"In the morning, when Hobi's back," you agree.

Tae detangles herself from you with a final kiss and goes downstairs, just as Jin and Jungkook finish the Christmas lights. They glitter above you in the perfect constellation of light. The perfect bright spot in the sea of darkness. You wonder what it looks like from the outside. If the people on your street can see the light up here through the windows.

Her footsteps creak on the steps, and someone knots their hand in your hair, scratching against your scalp. You don’t have to look and see who. You’re sort of hungry. Sort of nauseous too.

You’re halfway through the third book in the Percy Jackson series but Tae doesn’t bring that up. Instead, she brings her laptop.

There are stickers on the edge that she got from a makeup company, a heart with a funky face; yellow lips and straight across eyebrows, a sparkly boba one, and a tiny blue bunny. Tae sits and scoots up to sit by Namjoon. Everyone goes still, unwilling to spook Tae if it’s something that she’s ready to share.

She’s never read you her writing before and you won’t miss this chance. Jimin pulls himself along your spine, nosing at your shoulder until you turn so he can rub your back. Your shoulders are always sort of tense, always sort of hard, a sign of bad posture or post-traumatic stress disorder maybe. Constant fear and anxiety can do a whole lot of damage to your body if left unchecked.

“Switch off with me when your hands get tired yeah?” Jungkook says, and your eyes flutter as Jimin pushes you to lie belly down into the bed, it feels so soft you think it might swallow you whole. You think you’d like that a little too much. But you also think that the pack would want to know that so you say it.

“Tell us okay? when you have any more thoughts like that, we want to hear them.”

“They scare me less when I tell you them. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Tae’s left hand is in your hair and she uses her right to scroll through her Word document. Jimin’s hands work at your shoulders. Rubbing in smooth little circles finding the knots and eliminating them with a practiced ease.

“Are you- ugh, okay with starting at a part I don’t think is best, I’m really shaky on the beginning?”

“Sure-“

“Whatever part you want to read Tae,” she licks her lips. It takes her a second to find her place, scrolling past carefully spaced paragraphs and dialogue then back because the end of the story is definitely not what she's most comfortable sharing (not to mention the death scenes and that weird fight scene, Tae hates how she can't make written word feel like an action movie).

Tae’s strong suit has always been the dialogue, the in-between parts are a little bit more malleable and prone to re-working.

She takes a deep breath. You close your eyes, and the light of the Christmas lights are behind them, soft and yellow. A glow that you don’t just see but feel too.

And then Tae begins.

“Holly Homburg felt her nose to see if it was broken. It was not the first time she’d been hit in the face, and she knew it would not be the last...”

~-~

After the whole dead body incident, The pack had decided unanimously to turn on their phone locations. Yoongi's thankful for that now. Finding Hobi is not as difficult as it might have been a few short weeks ago.

Yoongi watches the little blue dot plod along and after looking around a little it's easy to tell where he's going. He follows it like a beacon ushering him across the great beyond (or perhaps the way a dog might follow a long-loved soul).

All lost things, no matter how big and broken, end up in the ocean someday.

As far as Yoongi knows this is the first time that Hobi's been back to the beach since that night. But if he cannot be close to you right now without fucking things up then maybe this is the next best place.

The ocean feels as tumultuous as Hobi’s soul, dark and teeming with hidden slimy dangerous things. Turning back and forth, a comforting lull that drowns out Hobi’s thoughts and the itch under his skin. Hobi doesn't like feeling his instincts, doesn't like that they're scratching up the wall. hoseok's alpha fights to convince him to go back, gnawing at the corner of his mind like an under stimulated dog. but there's only one thing, one person that Hobi's alpha wants, and he's not ready for that yet.

The sea tosses spray high into the air like all the words Hobi wishes he could shout and scream. White foam catches the half-full moon's light frothing with hidden violence as hungry as Hobi’s soul.

Yoongi’s beat-up sneakers sink into the sand as he slows his pace. Hoseok's on the edge of the crashing waves, his ass is probably getting wet. But Yoongi’s too worried to care about the sand in his shoes, about anything else as he rushes. Worried, worried more when he see Hoseok's wet cheeks.

Hoseok turns abruptly at the sound of him approaching, Yoongi’s hair pushed up by the sea spray. He jolts to his feet almost shoving Yoongi back with how quick and hard he grips the other's jacket. His first reaction isn’t of thanks. His first reaction is nearly shouted, an alpha barking orders. Bearing his teeth. His cheeks are wet, he's still crying. Yoongi wonders how the fuck he even drove here without crashing.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Go the fuck home.” Yoongi should be home, should be with you, comforting you in the way that only Yoongi can. There is no one you need more than him.

But Yoongi could ask him the same question. Could say the same bitter accusation. Both of them should be home.

“She asked me to come get you.” Hobi huffs, a little gentler. “Do you really think I’d have left if she hadn’t?”

Hobi twists out of yoongi's hands like even the barest mention of you is too much for him right now. “I’m not going back yet, I need-” His hands flex and clench over and over again like he doesn't know what to do with his body. But Yoongi is already pulling him back down to the sand, making to sit next to him. Hobi's knees bury themselves in the sand as he falls, brought so low as to kneel before the sea and ask it for answers. He put his hands in the cold sand, a necessary anchor for his tumultuous thoughts.

Yoongi's sitting close enough to feel his heat. It’s a cold night, not as cold as the night you found the dead body, but still cold. “Jesus Christ, you didn't have to fucking come get me. I just need a fucking minute.”

“Daisy.” Yoongi chides. Yoongi never gets frustrated and that’s part of the problem. He's always gentle, always soft. If Hobi was more like him then maybe he'd stand a chance. Hobi knows even though nothing's happened yet, that whatever love he's prepared to give you will barely hold a candle to Yoongi's sunshine.

“Okay, then I’ll sit here until you do. Keep you company.”

So much of love is just that, just keeping each other company. Hobi's cheeks burn with mortification because he knows Yoongi's watching him. Not watching the ocean. The whole point of sitting so close is that it's right there and still, Yoongi does not look away.

Hobi hasn’t even gotten his headphones, the emergency pair he always keeps in the car. He’s just there, sitting in silence and now he's being watched Which honestly makes him a little annoyed.

Yoongi sits, he sits for a good few minutes. Until he can’t handle the silence any longer.

“She didn’t mean it. You know she didn’t.” Yoongi is not one to make excuses for people behaving badly but maybe when it comes to you there isn't an excuse he wouldn't make. Hobi doesn’t know if pulled punches ever deserve a thank you.

But Hobi knows you, how many times have you talked about trauma making you feel less than human? Is it ghosts or animals that you prefer? Hobi would not blame a cornered dog for nipping. He's an alpha after all, it's hard to forget that an alpha hurt you.

Hobi wonders what Geumjae was like.

Hobi tucks his eyes below his crossed arms. One hand on either knee, Nobly and boney against Hobi’s thin fingers and knuckles. “You don’t understand hyung, but she does, she does- and she did it anyway. And- and it doesn't even matter, because-”

Anger isn’t what he’s sick with- although it might be a symptom of the larger issue. Love is never quite so easy to diagnose (Hobi has learned this mentality from Namjoon). Love is not dangerous, love is not an illness, but it feels like maybe it should be.

"Because she’s, my mate?”

"No" Hobi chokes out. The tears on his cheeks slowly swallowed the sea spray, combining with it on his cheeks. Hobi’s crying so hard he can’t see anything, can’t see the ocean or the moonlight.

"You don't understand hyung,”

The truth wrenches clean from Hobi’s chest. He’s always been too honest for his own good. Honesty feels a bit like violence when he'd rather lie. Rather keep this secret for a little while longer. He could lie- a rose colored lie insead of a white one. But the truth is pointless and hopeless, as unavoidable as the advancing tide. The ocean crashes barely a foot from Hobi's knees, every few waves it gets a little closer.

No one but Yoongi could hear Hobi shout over the sea-spray, the beach is as abandoned as the end of the world. a separate planet made only for people who love you hopelessly.

“You don’t understand hyung, I love her and she's hurting, she’s hurting and I can’t do anything to make it better."

Yoongi pulls Hobi snug along his side, holding him tight- as tight as his arms will allow. Yoongi’s never felt broader or stronger or more worthwhile as he pulls Hobi to lie next to him, holding in the pieces as they break and crumble and Hobi sobs.

"I know Daisy, I know."

"She’s dying and I can't make it better." He repeats, like a broken record on repeat.

Yoongi drags his mouth across Hobi's forehead. "Sucks, right? It hurts right where it feels good, Like a tack in a piece of gum."

Hobi laughs wetly. "That is like the weirdest fucking analogy you could think of." And yet Hobi finds himself licking his lips testing for blood. Confessing to Yoongi is the first step in all of this, although Hobi should really be saving these words for you. Telling your mate is the first necessary step.

There is no illness and there is no cure for what you're stuck with, either time will heal all wounds or it won’t. Either you’ll get better or something else down the line will send you hurtling down this same path. Hurling like a fast car without a roll cage or a burning fallen star. Time will tumble you smooth and small like the waves turn glass into sand.

Into to nothing.

Hobi is struck by how afraid he is of that. Of something making you worse, of anything taking you from this living and glowing thing in his chest. He's scared of the sadness taking you.

When Hobi was a child, his parents always worked nights.

It didn’t suck too bad. There was always food in the fridge and the bills always got paid on time. Hobi had an iPad and more than enough art supplies to keep him occupied.

But every time he came home after school it would always be to a dark house. He’d have to do it all himself; turn the lights on, do the dishes from breakfast, fix the heat in the winter and wait for the house to heat up.

But when Hobi thinks of you it feels like you’ve left a light on, burning in his heart. A safe place he can always retreat to. Someone he can think about without it hurting most of the time. A person he can love without feeling like he’s giving up something. He doesn’t know when loving you became so real and tangible and glowing, but now that he’s burning it’s hard to stop.

He remembers that moment in the car before you’d gone to the burger place that became your haunt. Your spot, besides the ocean and Hobi’s car (maybe none of these places are saturated with nostalgia, maybe Hobi can only fall in love with you once, and the fact is he’s been doing it without savoring every moment is kind of terrible to consider. He'd have appreciated every second of it if he knew).

He remembers when you said, “Can you make it just the way I like it?”

Hobi doesn’t think he can make this love just the way you like it, at least not without it hurting like this. He’s a person just like you are, full of anger and grief and a terrible furious sort of will.

There is futility in it, in knowing that love doesn’t matter if It’s not given in the right way. That love doesn’t mean shit.

"I love her, and I can't do anything to make it better." Hoseok sobs, a little quieter.

“I know” Yoongi presses their foreheads together. “Trust me, Daisy, I know.” Hobi swallows the last of his tears against Yoongi's collarbones, and Yoongi bears the sandy imprints of hobi's fingers where he gripped him.

Yoongi tangles their hands together on the sand. Grainy and gritty. It feels right for the first time since Yoongi left all those months ago. It's almost been a full year since yoongi left, almost- Hobi's pretty sure he left this weekend last year. It feels like a full circle moment, Yoongi's left and come back and everything's different.

"I think i'm ready to go home now."

The waves crash back and forth. Unforgiving and unrelenting.

“I think I am too.”

~-~

The house is quiet when Yoongi and Hoseok get home. Dark except for a faint glow in the upstairs that just might be someone awake. Tae's library room light is the only one left lit on the first floor and Yoongi shuts it off before they go upstairs while Hobi settles himself. Takes a few steadying breaths of the pack's scents in the foyer.

He still doesn't know what he's going to say, he almost doesn't want to say anything yet, but he has a feeling you're going to pull it out of him regardless of what he intends.

Everyone in the pack smells vaguely food like; Yoongi's chocolate, Jungkook's honey and Jin's cream, Namjoon's coffee and Jimin's vanilla. Tae's cinnamon And your warm baked bread sugar. It smells muted here. The pack's unhappy scents have dissipated and been replaced with a solid not sad- not happy baseline. Any sadness has long been talked through and left for another moment.

It smells like home to Hobi. It smells like you.

Hobi’s eyes twinkle when they reflect the Christmas lights upon cresting the top of the stairs. Jungkook did as asked, probably a better job than Hobi could have done. He doesn’t know why he waited so long to put this idea into action. Maybe he thought that you wouldn’t accept it. Infringing on the pack like this.

Jimin’s still up, sprawled out with you lying on his chest, shirt removed sometime during cuddling. He's leaning back against the headboard with one arm behind his head, the other cradles your cheek where it rests. Watching. Not removing his eyes from you as promised.

Hobi watches as he murmurs something soft to you, pecking your forehead gently.

You'd woken a little while ago- not from a nightmare this time. Your stomach hurts and you're vaguely hungry because you hadn’t eaten anything earlier. No one had the heart to force you. Although you were glad for it at the moment, now you kind of wish you had if only to rid yourself of this familiar hollow ache.

Jimin's eyes flicker up at the sound of someone on the stairs and his grip on your cheek goes tight for a second before Jimin recognizes the figures on the stairs. Hobi makes eye contact with Jimin first, and you follow his eyes.

The two of them stand at the top of the stairs in shadow. It doesn't scare or startle you. You'd know your mate blind.

“Hey,” Hobi whispers, a little nervous. Mindful of the others, still asleep and ringing you cuddled at the center, their chests rising and falling softly.

Jimin looks a bit like he doesn’t want to let you go when you pull yourself to the edge of the nest, half hidden behind the gauzy curtains, lit from within. A careful little bundle of light. Perfectly safe. Hoseok's instincts stops their teething.

You teeter to the edge of the nest, holding the gauzy curtains to keep yourself from falling out of it. “You- you came back” you choke out, not sure why you’re surprised.

This is Hobi’s home after all. Closer up, Hobi notes your red-rimmed eyes, your voice raw like you talked this through with them for hours before you finally slept.

You hold each other apart for another breath before you're both moving, Colliding almost with how quickly you both move to cling. Hobi stumbles, socks wet and slippery. Reaching out to hold you the second you reach back. Hobi smells like the ocean when you press your face into his jacket, fingers hooking into the rip at the collar unintentionally as you hold the back of his neck.

Your body is warm and safe and alive in his arms and he almost wants to sag in the relief of it. But the hug doesn't last, hugs never last as long as you want them to. No sooner are you squeezing him than are you pulling back, eyes swimming with tears again.

“I’m so sorry Hobi," fresh tears build and spill down your cheeks. He's already shaking his head, already denying you your apology. "I’m sorry I tried to convince them you were lying, I’m sorry I-“ You break off. “I promise I’ll never do that again.”

Hobi cups your cheek, “Jesus, this is the second time I’ve made you cry today.” But his own eyes are wet and glassy.

“You dummy. You’re allowed to make me fucking cry as many times as you want if-” Hobi holds your face, thumbs skimming the top of your cheek bones, such a tender touch.

Hobi has never touched you like this, cupping both your cheeks so gently, your body shaking with his relieved laughter. His laugh- like a breeze coaxing a fire to burn, makes a giggle build in your chest too. His hair flops when he shakes his head. Neither of you should be laughing, but you are. Bodies light in relief that the other is okay. That you're okay.

This living breathing love between the two of you is undamaged by the words you said in fear. Before Hobi came up the stairs he wasn't sure that he forgave you but now that you're in his arms, he's not even thinking about the gaslighting.

How did he not realize for so long?

His eyes flash from your eyes to your lips. “You can’t
you can’t do that anymore, okay? I think I’ll go crazy if you try and hurt yourself again- I think I’ll-” Hobi knows it’s not the right thing to say, but what else can he say? Logically? What words could he have that would ever cancel out your pain?

But he doesn't know what else to say, he just doesn't want you to hurt. Hobi can do little more than say it and then try to keep you underfoot.

“I won’t I’ll-” Resolve swells in your chest; the better-looking cousin to shame. “I’ll try. I’ll tell you when I want to so you can hold me back again, okay?” Hobi nods, eyes shining in the dark.

If they smothered you with love, would you even have time to hurt? or has distracting you from your problems only gotten you here.

He goes quiet and when you pull him into the nest, he goes easy. Staying there perched on his knees. Smelling like seawater. His hair a salty sticky tangle. Tucking his head in close, and burying his face in your shoulder again. Fingers tangling in your shirt.

Yoongi makes a soft noise noting the band-aids on your arms. Hobi didn't notice them either until he drags your arm up into the light.

You grimace. “It’s silly- I told them they didn’t need to, but-“

Yoongi shakes his head, long hair flopping. “It’s better, this is better. It’s not a waste.” Yoongi is a man of few words, and your confession and apology has made him even quieter than usual.

He likes watching people he loves fall in love. it's kinda like watching a special rom-com written just for him.

Hobi taps his fingers along the Band-Aids, thinking back to that moment. his voice is quiet but it still comes out like an accusation. "You could have told me; I was standing right there. You could have told me."

"I'm sorry i didn't say anything."

Hoseok swallows hard, "Why didn't you?"

“It’s not that I don’t ever want to tell you, it's that I don’t want to scare you. Sometimes I think things that aren’t the kindest about me." your cheek tips to the side, catching the shadow from the christmas lights, all chiaroscuro. "It’s scary.”

You are a frightened little thing, a world full of shadows and band-aids on half-healed hurts. But if there are scary shadows in your head, then Hobi will be your nightlight. “I don’t think you could ever scare me."

“I don’t want to make you worried then.”

Hobi shakes his head, stubborn. “That’s what you don’t get, when you make us worried, it doesn’t hurt. I mean of course it’s worry- but it feels good. It feels good that I'm the one who gets to worry over you. We’re a family. And I don’t just say that because it's true. I say that because I'd choose you to be my family every time. Every time I’d choose this. So, worrying kind of comes with it. It’s not just terms and conditions. Worrying about you is why I'm here, what I'm here for.”

Behind you, Yoongi nods. “Heavy things aren’t a burden if you choose to carry them.”

It's not a confession, but what do the words 'I love you' mean when the sentiment is the same? Hobi is your person. If Jimin and Tae are soulmates and so are Namjoon and Jin- then maybe you and Hobi are kind like that too.

In another world, Yoongi might never have mated you. Maybe hobi would have.

You breathe deep, letting the words wash over you, a little sick with it. A little quiet.

He tangles his hand with yours, “If you stay, I’m staying. If you hurt- I’m hurting too so- you can’t hurt me alright?” His lower lip wobbles and you lean your forehead against his.

“Alright.” You agree. Quiet with the weight of it.

Yoongi drags you into the bathroom and you brush your teeth elbow and elbow with Hobi, changing into your pajamas in silence. “You didn’t eat anything did you?” Yoongi asks, and you shake your head easily this time.

That’s how you end up eating ramen with Hobi on the bathroom floor. Lounging on the heated slate when Yoongi turns them on to keep you warm. You nibble on some of the bread that was baked for dinner and pass your chopsticks back and forth between the three of you. You don’t know if the rest of the pack ate after you fell asleep. Jin’s a little anal about it so probably. And then you brush your teeth again because really who wants to go to bed tasting like garlic and chapagetti?

“Where did you go?” Hobi drags his face wash through his bangs too- just to get rid of the salt a little.

“Our spot.”

“Oh.” You rub your hands against the flannel shorts you wear. hobi pokes your hand with his pinky, skimming up your knuckle. he feels like he can't keep from touching you, just little touches, cradling your hands when it holds the disposable chopsticks so that you don't drop a noodle, cupping your elbow when you move to get the mouth wash. Each touch heavier and needier than the last.

“Get me any sea glass?”

“Next time” he promises, hands warm with the prospect of it. Mind teaming with the idea of next time. There will always be a next time.

“I hate that we haven’t gone back since
” you trail off.

“I do too.” I hate a lot more than that, like how I can’t just fucking say it right now. Hobi wants to tell you he loves you and wants to free this slimy living thing like hope from his chest. But it's hard.

But everything is fine. He can wait a little longer.

In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is just perfectly fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine. Everything is in fact- falling together so beautifully. Hobi loves you like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Throat burning with the words he just won’t release. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you. You and Hobi can only hope.

It’s only hope afterall, how much damage can it really do?)

When you walk into the nest room, the lights are still on. The christmas lights twinkle and the pack has left all of them on for you. Tae’s sleep masks are distributed among them. Jimin's finally fallen asleep, released from his promise.

And when you get into the nest- Hobi pulls you back into the center of it. Yoongi on your other side as you burrow sleepily into Hobi's chest, head tucked a little lower than his heart. You fall asleep easily because you’re worn out a little from all that crying. Hobi stays awake a little longer. Just to make sure you don’t have another nightmare. Just to watch you sleeping soundly.

But for once, your chest rises and falls easily, your demon’s exorcised for now. If they come back, Hobi will fight them off tooth and nail. Blood and claw.

Yoongi’s hand cards through his hair, gentle enough to make the soft growl-grumble in Hobi’s chest taste like a needy keen.

“When are you going to tell her?” he asks, voice honey homey whisper soft.

“Eventually,” Hobi nibbles on his lip. Your warm breathe teases the soft skin of his neck, the first easy breaths you've taken in days. “Soon.”

Yoongi hums, a deep-seated noise of approval.

“Soon,” he agrees.

~-~

Read Tae's book: 'Girls and Other Dangerous Things' Here

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Chapter 59 notes

i can't believe it took me 700,000 words for hoseok to realize he's in love 😂 but also 💀 honestly they should have kissed, but tbh, i kinda want their verbal love confession to come after they fuck for the first time.

i love how the chapter begins with the m/c waking up to hobi taking care of her and ends with her falling asleep next to him. About a year ago some fucker on tictoc said something about ed's that triggered me into the biggest ed relapse i've ever had, and there is a moment here where the mc says something really similar in her internal monologue, I almost edited it out about a million times but decided to keep it in the end.

This is the m/c's make it or break it moment like- mentally- this is either the moment that she's going to get better or not. the moment that sort of defines her recovery in a way.

for a very very long time i have been in the place where the m/c is in this chapter, these cusps of "am i going to relapse am i going to get better?" can last for a very long time- the moments where you're not sure you're ever going to get better than then decide that it doesn't matter you still have to try anyways. its very very difficult to articulate- but i hope if you're in this place too- you just keep trying. i don't have the words or all the solutions for you. But sometimes you just need to keep what you're doing and try even when it feels terrible and useless.

During the part where the m/c is about to have her breakdown, i tried to write it with the feeling like the pack is a little further away from the scene because i don't think the m/c is aware of their movements- she's definitely heavily dissociating during that part.

the part where Namjoon gets out his doctors bag and takes the m/c's like- vital signs- is lowkey my favorite part of this chapter- baring hobi's, "you don't understand hyung" lines (which have been written for like a full year tbh) i think deep down with my recovery, the only thing i've ever wanted is to be treated like i'm as sick as it feels like i am.

I personally think it's really funny that hobi texts jk and tells him not to tell them/c that he's thinking about her and then immediately tells her exactly that. jk is so untrustworthy i sorta love him for immediately snitching. its for their own good! jk is such a little shit and it's so apart of his character.

Tae's book- ie 'girls and other dangerous things' is a story that i wrote when i was 15 and is the origin of my pen name! originally- i made this blog as a space for me to try and talk about it and post a few parts of it, i forgot about it for a few years and then when i started to get into kpop i kinda naturally put all my fandom stuff here. the truth is i would have referenced one of my other stories- like 'Don't care if it hurts' or 'Reasons wretched and divine' but i've already referenced those in this story so i needed new material and i felt like i couldn't use any of those. what a full circle moment!

I did not get to edit the end of this chapter as much as i wanted too- but thats okay, i think at this point. The people who still want to read this story are reading it to the end. i'm making it what i want- not necessarily something that will impress a bunch of people. This is just the way the story is <3 messy and complicated just like life.

as always <3

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More Posts from Softieyn

1 year ago

💜💜💜

So I saw you were taking requests, how about writing on this idea that Jungkook is dating someone (they have been dating for a long time) who would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things of y/n's life, and the boys would constantly hint that jk should give y/n more time. Jk gets super sad once she realises that he might be not making y/n happy anymore. A fluffy ending please. 💓 I hope this isn't too much ...

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

Mind & Music

Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader

Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation

Word count: 10k+

My first fic in ages! Feels good to be writing again~ This in not proofread because I was to excited to be uploading again hahah.

This request has been in my inbox for ages, thank you for being patient anon. Love ya 

Let me know how you guys like it 

- Ryeon <3

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

He isn’t here. You half expected him not to be. 

Still, you found yourself gazing into the audience half expecting to see that specific mop of black hair. Again, disappointment pulls at your heart as you still don’t find it.  

You hear your name being called and it snapped you out of your disheartening thoughts. You stood up and walked over to the podium and began your speech. 

“Thank you all for coming out today. It’s a privilege to be presented with this award. I am honoured to be standing here in front of you as the youngest recipient of the universities achievement of the decade award. Though I would not have been able to do this without the support and guidance of- “ 

You pause for a moment as you saw familiar smiling faces staring back at you in the crowd. Yoongi and Tae beamed at you from the back of the auditorium. Even from so far away, you could still feel the smiles radiating from their faces. You mirrored their expressions and met their proud grins with one of your own as you continued your speech. Having them here almost made all of your butterflies flutter away. Almost. Cause only the presence of one person could have caused them to disappear completely. 

After the ceremony was over, you rushed out to find your friends. You spotted them stood by the food table munching on some snacks. Your eyes locked with Tae’s first as you ran towards both men and rugby tackled them both into a giant bear hug. 

“Y/N-ah! Please, be careful! You could have knocked over my cucumber sandwich” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung ‘smocking tone. 

“Cucumber? That’s a little bland for you Kim Taehyung”

“First of all, don’t use my government name in public and second of all, it’s the best option this place has to offer. I mean, I get it, it’s Yonsei’s international focused program so it’s going to cater to foreigners but babe, you are in Korea! Where are the spices? Where is the flavour? Where is the taste?” He ranted while wiggling the pale looking sandwich in his hand. You giggled but you couldn’t deny he was wrong. 

“Hey! As a foreigner, I do not claim this cuisine” You retorted. 

“If you say so” Tae rolled his eyes. 

You shook your head at him then turned your attention to the quiet figure next to you. 

Yoongi smiled and held his hand towards you. 

“The youngest recipient of the achievement of the decade award, huh? Very impressive” 

Coming from anyone else, that sentence would have come out as painfully sarcastic but you knew coming from yoongi, it was the highest compliment he could have bestowed on a human being. You completely ignored his attempt at a hand shake and pulled him into a tight hug instead that he gladly accepted. 

Yoongi was the first friend you had made in Korea. You had met on a language exchange app. He was the only guy you had spoken to that hadn’t asked to go ‘eat ramen’ with you, go ‘see his cat’ or ask you to join a cult. But still you carried pepper spray in your bag when you agreed to meet him at the coffee shop because stranger danger is still a thing. It turns out you didn’t need it cause Yoongi was the sweetest guy you had ever met. Blunt as hell but lovely still. You recalled fondly that upon your first meeting that he had told you that your Korean pronunciation was like an elementary school kid. Did it sting? Absolutely. Was it the last time he would say something like that? Absolutely not. But he made sure you improved and got better. He decided midway through your friendship that learning English was ‘too troublesome’ for him. He had made up his mind that listening to you speak English occasionally was the best way to learn
Sure yoongs. 

It was actually Yoongi that introduced you to your boyfriend. Speaking of 

“So where is he?” 

Yoongi’s smile dropped slightly as he absorbed your change in mood. 

“He’s in the studio with Joon. They’re still working on finalising the soundtrack.” 

You forced a smile on your face, sensing the awkwardness in his voice. 

“Ah, its okay! He’s working, I’m happy he at least has a good excuse! If he was at home playing overwatch or something, I would have been super mad” you said hoping your joking tone would mask your disappointment. 

Taehyung chuckled but you know Yoongi could read you like a book. He knew how you really felt. 

“Let’s go! The rest of the guys said they’d be at the bar, right? I want to show them how cute I look in all my graduation gear. Seokjin is going to die of jealousy cause there is no way in hell he looked this good on his graduation” 

“He’s gonna murder you for even insinuating that” Tae gasped in feigned shock. 

“I’d like to see him try” you sang as you skipped in the middle of the two men. You hooked both of your arms in theirs and pulled them towards the exit. 

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

“There she is!” 

This was the first thing you heard before you were met with a flurry of applause and cheers as you stepped into the bar. 

You saw the gang sat at your regular booths now decorated with pink and white balloons and confetti. The table adorned with gifts and ‘congratulations banners’. Jimin, Seokjin, Hobi and Jennie stood there holding bottles of champaign. You felt your eyes start to well up, completely touched by the kind gesture. 

“Aww you guys” you spoke, voice wavering. 

“Ha! Pay up Seokjin, I told you Y/N would start crying before she even sat down! Thanks Y/N, you just won me 50000 won” Jennie exclaimed.

“No! Technically, she hasn’t cried! No tears have fallen from her eyes. C’mon Y/N keep it together” Jin begged.

“Sorry Jin, I gotta get my girl her money” You replied, blinking hard so the tears would run down your cheeks.

The group erupted in laughter as Soekjin took out his wallet. 

“That’s enough you two. Tonight, is about Y/N. Congratulations sweetheart.” Jimin said as he pulled you into a hug. You accepted his embrace but you found yourself looking over his shoulder to see if your boyfriend was amongst the crowd. He wasn’t. 

“Yeah, it’s about me! And my goal is to be as drunk as possible by the end of the night!” you proclaimed earning you more cheers from the group. Hopefully if you’re drunk, this feeling of disappointment will eventually go away. 

And it does. After 4 shots of soju, 2 vodka lemonades and a weird cocktail concoction Jimin force fed you, you were feeling better than ever. You were on the dance floor with Jennie having the time of your life. That was until you felt arms wrap around your waist. 

Oh hell no. 

You spun yourself around ready to fight whoever in the hell thought they could touch you unprovoked. Before you could administer your first blow, you were met with a pair of beautifully familiar brown eyes. 

There he was. Jeon Jungkook. 

Your fighting stance shifted as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to envelop him in a warm hold. You inhaled his scent as he began to lovingly plant soft kisses in the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar fire start to burn at the pit of your stomach. His innocent gesture in your drunken state was igniting a reaction in you that you were eager to explore. 

“I’m sorry baby” he whispered in your ear. 

And just like that, the feeling was gone. At those three words your vagina dried up quicker than the Sahara Desert. Cause as quickly as you had forgotten, you were reminded once again that he had let you down again. But could you be mad? He was working. This had been his dream since he was a little kid and they were so close to finalising this project, they just needed to finish to complete some final composition. Could you be mad at him? You decide once again, that you couldn’t. Once again, you put his needs before yours. You pulled away from his shoulder and met his face. You plastered a fake smile on and put on another show. 

“Baby, don’t be silly! Don’t worry about it, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you” 

“I know you will” 

And he did. 

The next day, Jungkook took you out to a beautiful dinner to celebrate your achievement. You loved him and you appreciated the gesture, you always did. But you couldn’t help still feeling hurt. 

You supported Jungkook, you always had and you always would. 

It’s funny to think about how devoted you were to him considering how rocky your fist interaction was.

Jungkook was Yoongi’s roommate. You and yoongi had been friends now for about four months before he finally decided to invite you over to his apartment. You had to say, this made you very nervous because Yoongi had always been such a private guy. You knew enough about him to say that you were friends but he always kept himself to himself. This was a part of him that was refreshing to you, really. He was excellent at establishing boundaries. You’ve never had a friend like that before. He was very mature but also very kind and very sweet. So, when he invited you over to game night with his friends you were ecstatic. It’s finally felt like he let you in and that you became real friends. 

And as excited as you were, you were equally nervous. Yoongi had told you bits and pieces about his friends but he assured you they were all really nice. 

You were still on edge but you assured yourself that you were a pleasant person! You had come out of your shell so much in the last couple of months. Your introverted personality had been spun on its head and you were now someone completely different. The constant support from Yoongi and your advancements in your career had made you feel absolutely unstoppable. 

And isn’t it amazing? How months of character development can be wiped away in 2 seconds. 

As soon as you walked into Yoongi’s apartment, you wished you could walk right back out because the second your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook it was very apparent, he did not like you. Like, at all. 

The boy, who had previously been laughing and talking to his friend, made eye contact with you and completely shut down. The smile fell from his face and his body suddenly became stiff and rigid. He looked at you for a millisecond before tearing away eye contact completely. 

You tried to ignore him. You really did because the rest of Yoongi’s friends were so cool. They made you feel welcome and you felt almost at ease. But still, your consciousness couldn’t help but wonder over to the pale, inked up boy stood in the kitchen dressed in an oversized t-shirt and ripped black denim. 

As much as you tried to ignore it, his coldness didn’t alleviate through the night as you’d hoped. In fact, not only did it not get better; it got worse as the night went on. As everyone kept drinking more and more you felt yourself become a little bolder. What was this guys problem? You haven’t done anything to him, he had no reason to be this hostile to you.

You raised this with Namjoon, another one of Yoongi’s roommates, who assured you that Jungkook was always a little weary of strangers. He was a shy person that had great difficulty adjusting to new people. His advice was to give him time to warm up to you and when you felt ready, try and start a casual conversation. 

But it wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried that. You’d made several attempts through the night to try and speak to him to at least extend the olive branch but each time he refused running away from you as if you had some kind of disease. You were sick of it.

You saw him alone on the balcony a few hours later and realised that this was your chance. You marched up to the doors and slipped out to give this guy a piece of your mind. Hearing the noise behind him Jungkook turned his head to be met with you. Again, panic started to run through his body as he tried to make an escape around you but you would not let him. 

“What is your problem?! What did I do to you why are you so weird towards me? I know Yoongi and Namjoon said that you are very selective with your friends and that’s cool but I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me so much. Fucking hell, we just met today! What could I possibly have done that hurt your feelings so much?!” You yelled at him. Your words slightly slurred. Liquid courage was really on your side tonight cause there was no way in hell sober Y/N could yell at him like this. Especially hear on the balcony, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight. And the way the evening breeze ruffled through his dark locks made him look like an actual prince.  

“Woah, where did you get the impression that I didn’t like you?”

Huh?! 

His almost idiotic question quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Was he being serious right now? Or is he just making fun of you?

“Are you kidding me? You haven’t looked at me the entire night, you haven’t introduced yourself and every time I come over to you to try and get some kind of conversation going you run off. Now tell me why are you doing all of that and not speaking to me like a normal human being !?”

“Because I think you’re pretty! And I’m intimidated by you!”

Eh? 

You remained silent for what felt like forever. Did he really just say that or did you just imagine it? No, there is no way he woul- 

“Jesus Christ, say something! Anything!” He huffed. Now putting the half empty beer bottle to his lips to stop his mouth from humiliating him even further. 

Well, Jungkook thought, if he’s going to humiliate himself may as well fully go for it. 

“You think Yoongi hasn’t told us about you? He’s told us how incredible you are. About how you’re a transfer student at the most prestigious college in Korea. About how you’re on track to be the recipient for the ‘biggest brain ever in the whole century award’ or whatever its called. He made you sound so cool; I was banking on you at least being a little bit of an asshole but again, Yoongi’s stories proved us wrong. He told us about how you willing let a random little girl sit next to you for 2 hours at a cafĂ© because she wanted to practice speaking to you to improve her English. And if im being honest, the more I heard the more I wanted to meet you but when you came in today, looking as fucking beautiful as you do. Which Yoongi coincidentally forgot to mention which is funny cause he mentioned every- fucking -thing else. When you came in
”

He paused and let out a sigh. Breathing for what seemed like the first time since beginning his outburst. 

“
When you came in, I realised how far away from me you were. And I dint have any business even speaking to you. We wouldn’t have anything in common and it would make me realise how inadequate I actually am”.

There was a pause again. Slowly, you began to let out a small giggle. Your small giggle quickly erupted into a full-bodied belly laugh. Your stomach began to hurt and your eyes began to water. You had to lean on the balcony door for support as you surely felt you would pass out. 

During your breakdown, Jungkook could only stare at you his head tilted to the side like a confused bunny. His eyes fell to the floor as your laughter pierced him like a knife and was the cherry on top of his mortification. 

“And you think Yoongi hasn’t told me about you, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as your laughter subsided. 

“Jeon Jungkook, the musical prodigy. The Jeon Jungkook that could play the piano before he could even walk. The Jeon Jungkook that everyone refers to as the Golden Maknae because you’re so good at everything. Your friends are very vocal about not just your talents in your field but also socially. Apparently, you’re the reason you guys even exist as a friend group. You were the one to make friends with each of them and bring them all together. Do you know how impressive that is?! But I’m intimidating cause I’m a little smart and I’m not mean to children? You are something else Jeon Jungkook.” 

Jungkook paused again. A chuckle escaped his mouth as his laughter then began to mimic yours. You joined him again as both of you stood on the balcony laughing with or at each other. You must have looked like maniacs but at the time both of you were too buzzed to care. 

Either way, this broke the ice between both of you as you were both able to bypass each other’s extensive achievements and finally got to know each other as people.

You’ll never forget that night. You and Jungkook sat on that balcony from 10pm to 7am, long after the others had left or gone to bed. Just talking about anything and everything until you both reached a comfortable silence.

And as the sun was rising, welcoming a brand-new morning you nudged Jungkook’s hand. His head lazily turned towards yours and he met you with a dimpled smile. 

“For what it’s worth” You smiled back. 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

That was 5 years ago and you and balcony boy have been inseparable ever since. You had now been there for every single important moment in each other’s life. Well
Almost.

3 years ago, Jungkook and Namjoon got the opportunity to produce a music score for a short film. Despite the films small budget, it managed to exceed all expectations and ended up getting nominated for a golden globe! You were ecstatic and so fucking proud of him. You felt like his talents and hard work were finally getting realised.

Little did you know it would be a bittersweet moment for yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Naturally as more eyes were on the film, more ears were listening to the soundtrack. This had your boyfriend pulled off to here there and everywhere in front of directors and movie studios all interested in investing in the musical duo. And finally they had been hired to compose an entire score to a new movie for a huge studio! This movie in particular, Jungkook had begged and pleaded for. He said the scrip and film premise really spoke to him and were perfect and he needed to compose this movie. This was such a huge deal for them and again you were over the moon. But there were downsides. During the first year after their debut you saw Jungkook 10 times that whole year. You spoke almost every day but almost every conversation ended in an argument. It was either and argument about you feeling neglected or him not feeling supported and it sucked. It really took a toll on both of you. 

The second year was much better. This time for a bit more of a selfish reason. The film studio had its own recording studio in Seoul only a 20-minute walk from yours and Jungkook’s apartment! He was finally able to be home more and you could actually spend time together. And so you did. 

Honestly, the first 6 months Jungkook was back home all you guys did was fuck. It was constant and almost none stop. You fucked in every room of the house at all hours of the day. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

There was a day you both decided to take a break from having sex and just play some video games together. It took you both all of 5 minutes before sonic was long forgotten about and you were bent over the sofa. 

It was very romantic really. But even that joy was short lived. 

Jungkook prioritised his art. That was one thing you’d always respected and admired about him. Even the way he talked about music that wasn’t his, he painted the emotions of the music into words to explain to you the way a piece made him feel. He could describe to you in detail the way the crescendos bend in the moments before it’s about to fall. About how the vibrations of the violins is the most romantic sound ever to grace the human consciousness. He was an artist through and through. His music was him and he was his music. They were one and could not be separated. But that raised a question for you:

Where did you fit in? 

This is what made the dinner you were on now very melancholic. It was to make up for him missing your award acceptance. 

He was sorry. You knew he was but you couldn’t ignore that this was your forth make up dinner this year: First was your birthday, second was your anniversary, third was dinner with your parents (that they had specifically flown out to Korea for) and the forth was the award. The award he knew you were on track to get before he’d even met you. The award you’d poured your heart into getting and the one you’d sacrificed so much for. But he was sorry, right? Plus, he had promised to make it up to you. Next week your professor had invited you to the university to give a special lecture to other projected recipients of the award you’d just achieved. It was a high honour as these students were the best and the brightest students from countries all over the world and of all the recipients to give the lecture, they had requested you! There have been recipients before you that had gone on to win Nobel Peace Prizes but they had specifically requested you. And Jungkook was so proud of you.

“Are you okay, little mouse? You seem a little quiet tonight”. Jungkook asked, genuine concern apparent on his face. 

“I’m just thinking bunny boy.”

“About me?” He winked at you, almost cartoonishly. 

“Bunny boy, how can you cross my mind if you never leave it” you winked back at him with the same playfully cartoonish obnoxiousness. 

“Ooh that’s going on my list” 

For the past 5 years of your relationship Jungkook has been keeping a list of things you say to him that makes him smile. This list has always confused you cause it would always be the silliest stuff. Once, when he was sleeping, you went and snooped through his notes app just to see this list and you couldn’t believe it. You were expecting the most romantic phrases or compliments that fluffed his ego but instead, the top three (out of four thousand!) were:

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

You woke him up immediately to ask about it. But his only defence was they were phrases you said that make him smile. You’re understanding of his list was ‘irrelevant’ to him. 

God, you loved him. 

“You’re so silly. But seriously Kookie; don’t worry, I’m good. Plus, you’re the one who’s been talking my ear off all night. I’m surprised you’ve even noticed me being quite” You quipped playfully, taking a sip of your wine. 

“Ooh, someone’s feisty tonight. I forgot what red wine does to you” He quipped back; eyebrows now raised highlighting the metal bar that accented it. 

God, he was cool.

“How could you forget? The first time we met I was wine drunk” 

“Ah yes, how could I forget. You get very mouthy off of red wine. Don’t worry, I know how I can put that mouth to good use” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled at him in a whisper.  Eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard your boyfriends lewd comment. Luck for you the other couples around you’re were too infatuated with their partners to even notice you guys. 

“Well, while were in pubic, put that mouth to better use and tell me about your day” he said, now leaning back in his chair. 

“Well, my day was pretty calm actually. It makes a change. I was walking Ban and bumped into Holly and Yoongi. We were talking about next week and he asked if he could bring a plus one. Wink, wink” 

“A plus one! Is Yoongi dating?! In the 12 years I’ve known the guy he has never shown romantic interest in anyone. I can’t even imagine his type. Did he give you any information”?! 

“Nah, you know how he is. Yoongi will only let you know what he wants you to know” 

“True. What’s going on next week?” 

You paused for a second and started chuckling. He was kidding. He had to be. 

The smile then fell from your face when he didn’t share in your laughter. 

“Oh my god you’re serious? You forgot about my lecture”?!

He gasped and began coughing as the bite of steak he had just put into his mouth had just gone down the wrong pipe.

“Of course not baby, how could I forget something so important to you” he continued to splutter. 

You stared back at him. The good mood you had felt a moment ago had completely evaporated. You waited for him to gain his composure so he could explain himself cause boy he had some explaining to do. 

“Just for giggles and fun and jokes, what date is your lecture again?” 

“The fifteenth” you said, shortly. 

His face fell and his eyes stayed stuck on his plate.

“Baby
Please don’t hate me. That’s the night we have the final run through of the soundtrack with the director. I can’t miss that
I’m so s- “

“You’re so sorry. Im sure you are.” You stood up. 

You grabbed your purse and you stormed out away from him. You could hear him calling your name but the burn of your throat as you fought back the tears overpowered his calls. 

How could he? No, how could you? How could you ever expect anything different. You will always be second to his first love and that was a pain you had to learn to live with. 

The moment you left the restaurant and the cold air of the night hit your face you decided to just let the tears fall. You sobbed as you walked further and further away from him. 

You heard the rhythmic pounding of laced up docks hitting the pavement behind you. 

“Y/N please I’m sorry. Just let me explain
”

“No! There is nothing you could say that would fix this! I have always been there for you! I have supported you from the very beginning! Every piece of music you have ever played for me I have cherished as if it were my own and you used to support me too! At my first presentation you were there. Cheering at the top of your lungs in a silent room. You used to be my number one cheerleader but now when all I ask of you, is to just show up? You can’t do it. And every chance I give you to fix it. You let me down. Jungkook, I need some time away from you. I’m going to be staying with Yoongi for a few days”. 

You said nothing more. You spun around and walked the 2 minutes to Yoongi’s apartment. And true to your word you stayed with them till the day before your lecture. 

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

Despite being a creative Jungkook worked like clockwork. Every single day at the same 3 times a day Jungkook would try to call you. The call was always followed by an ‘I love you’ text but today was different. After the second call of the day the text that followed said:

“I know this is such a fucking reach and such a huge ask but would you mind swinging around our apartment today at around 3? Director Anderson would like to speak to you. I know you probably still need your space so I’ll be in the apartment but I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll come out only when you’ve left, I promise. Please come” 

He really had some fucking nerve. That ‘please come’ at the end of his text almost sent your blood boiling. 

“You should talk to him,” said a familiar voice. 

Your turned your whole body around on the sofa so Yoongi could see your eyes roll at his suggestion. 

“Yoongs, I feel like it shouldn’t be me your having this conversation with. You should try telling him not to break commitments to people” 

“Oh I have! That’s why I’m telling you, you need to speak to him. I know it’s none of my business but I think you guys just need to talk it out. And even if you don’t have anything to say, at least hear the boy out” he finalised before turning on his heels and heading back into his room. 

That wasn’t the speech you were expecting but it did calm you down enough to re-read Jungkook’s text. Your boiling rage had now been replaced with intrigue and curiosity. The meeting was requested by the director of the film? This was very unusual. You had heard about the director in passing but you had never spoken directly before. But you had decided that you were going to go. You we determined to look the man who practically stole your boyfriend for years in the face and lecture him about respecting his colleagues work/life balance! Plus it will be good practice for your lecture tomorrow. Two birds, one stone. 

It would be an absolute lie to say that you weren’t missing Jungkook. You knew the apartment would smell like him and you hoped you may be able to swipe one of his t-shirts to sleep in before you leave. 

You ubered over to your apartment and stood before the oak front door feeling oddly nervous. To took a shaky breath and inserted the passcode: 8008135 (you and Jungkook were children at heart cause you both laughed for hours after agreeing upon the code).

Upon hearing the beeping of the lock to confirm the door was unlocked you pushed it open. You stepped in, removed your shoes and couldn’t help the solemn smile that crept onto your face. Jungkook’s scent hit you as soon as you entered the room. 

God, you missed him. 

You strode inside and were met with a recognisable figure sitting upright on your sofa. His back stood tall and his hair was a mousy brown colour. It was so bizarre seeing him here. There was an uncanny feeling, seeing this man you knew but had never met sat in your living room.

He must have felt you staring at him because his head soon whipped around. 

“Y/N. So nice to finally meet you.” He stood up and walked over to you shoving his hand out towards you. You shook it hesitantly. His hands were cold and clammy but his eyes were warm. He was tall and chubby but he wasn’t foreboding, in fact he seemed rather friendly Damnit. You wanted him to be an asshole, it would have made telling him what was on your mind so much easier. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson” you said as coldly as you could muster. 

“Mr Anderson is so formal, just call me James. Although its strange. We’re meeting for the first time but it feels as if I have already met you” His German accent becoming more apparent as he spoke. 

“And why is that?”

“Ah, that is why I asked Jungkook to invite you over. Although it does feel strange extending you an invitation to your home” he chuckled to himself. 

He invited you to sit down on the couch, it was only then that you noticed a laptop connected to your TV. 

“What’s all this?” you asked. Genuinely curious. 

“I have a little something for you to watch. It may make explaining why I asked you hear a little more apparent. Please, have a seat my dear” he guided you to the sofa as you plopped yourself down. Eyes glued to the screen. 

You anticipated what would happen next when a familiar tune began to play. You knew it was Jungkook’s composition as soon as you heard it. Suddenly an animated mouse popped up on the screen. She was in the wings of a stage, obviously nervous but she strolled out into the spotlight in front of a stoic audience of other animals. Just as she was about to speak there was suddenly a loud whooping from the crowd that interrupted the slow score. It was a bunny. A bunny with banners and whistles and confetti and he was cheering for her. The others in the audience told him to be quite but he exclaimed ‘That’s my girlfriend’ still as proud as can be. 

The trailer played on and you slowly started to get it. It was you. This little mouse was you. Tears welled up in your eyes as yours and Jungkook’s entire relationship began to play in front of you. All your highs and your lows. It was beautiful and the accompaniment of his music made the tears pour from your eyes until it was over. 

You turned back to James and attempted to speak but only blubbers could come out. 

“Let me explain Y/N. When Jungkook and Namjoon came out to LA to play some stuff for the studio the only thing the boy would speak about, other than music, was you my dear. Jungkook and I sat for hours speaking about you. He told these elaborate stories about how you met, who you are and about the adventures you got into together. It was indeed very fascinating to me, you almost seemed like a heroine in his very own story. He bragged about your achievements almost as if they were his own. According to him, you are the smartest woman on the planet my dear and he would not be told otherwise. Oh, congratulations on the achievement of the decade award! And the youngest recipient at that? Incredible work my dear, just incredible. Jungkook went into great detail about what a huge deal that was. Needless to say the day after the networking event I went home and began writing the script for ‘Mouse & Bunny – Mind & Music’. I had just never seen someone so passionate about another person. His passion for you far outweighs his passion for his craft, that much was apparent, it was awe inspiring and I had to bring It to the screen. I think that is why Jungkook fought so hard to be the lead composer for the soundtrack. He wanted to intertwine the two loves of his life”. 

You sat there in complete shock for a moment before jumping into James’s arms and engulfed him into a hug. His moustache tickled your shoulder as he chuckled and said he was happy to have cleared things up. As he packed up his laptop, he was asking you so many questions, probably attempting to confirm the validity of Jungkook’s stories: 

“Did you really fight a microwave” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really use protein powder as flour for a cake?” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really not know the earth went around the sun?” 

“That son of a-
 no comment” 

He snorted as he packed up the last of his things. You walked him to the door but he turned to you before saying his final goodbyes. 

“Y/N, it seems wrong for me to give the final approval for the soundtrack. I’ve heard it and I know it’s the most beautiful accompaniment to the film but it seems only fitting that the muse gets to give the final say so. Take the afternoon to listen to it and pass your notes to Jungkook. If you like it, I’ll approve it. So there should be no need for my originally planned final listen tomorrow. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to attend something much more important tomorrow anyway” He winked at you as he closed your door. 

You didn’t even wait for the door to fully shut before you were sprinting to your shared bedroom.

The pitter patter of your bare feet slapping the wood floor could almost not be heard over the beating of your heart. You bust open the door to see the love of your live leaning over his piano. 

You must have given him such a fright as his big boba eyes were the first to greet you. 

“Y/N I-“

You crashed your lips onto his, completely cutting him off. 

“I am the stupidest person in the world.” 

Jungkook laughs, standing up beside you. 

“No little mouse, why do you say that” he said with a soft smile while he caressed your tear-stained face. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t just ask! I’m so- “

“Even if you asked, I probably wouldn’t have told you. I wanted things to be a surprise. But baby, first I needed to apologise, like really apologise” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for” 

“Yes, I do. Ever since I met you, you brought light into my world. I wanted to express to you my love in the best way I knew how and this project, to me, was the best way for me to put into the world how I felt about you. But I was selfish, I took my expression of love and put it above all the things I knew you had work so hard to achieve. In a way, I put my love above yours and I will forever be sorry and I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I love you Y/N L/N” 

You reward his confession with another kiss, pulling him into your arms soon after. 

you sighed, almost longingly. “Whatever shall I do with my bunny boy?” 

“Whatever shall I do with my little mouse?” Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear, drawing soothing circles on your hip. 

He gently placed you down against your mattress. You clung to him and giggled  

You stay quiet, appreciating the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. 

God, he smelled good. 

“Okay,” he purrs, caressing your hip as he repositioned himself more securely. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh? A week away? It felt more like a lifetime” You nodded in response. Terrified that if you spoke, your voice would fail you.

Jungkook shifted, the hand that was previously on your hip swiftly fell over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my smart girl?” he hums as his hand slipped between your thighs. “My smart, pretty, intimidating girl?” 

Your eyes flutter closed and you revel in the feeling of him running his fingers over the front of your panties. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure.

“Ah,” you hissed.

“Hmm?” he says, mouthing against the crook of your neck. His mouth feels so warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “My smart girl doesn’t have anything smart to say?” 

“N-No,” you tried to scoff back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands were getting braver now as he slipped his hand beneath your waistband, and touched your wet heat head on. “Baby.”

Jungkook chuckled at your immediate submission for his touch and took the opportunity to connect his mouth back you yours. You whimpered in surprise, legs trembling as he gets to work circling your hardening bud. Your thighs are squirming, clenching around his hand every few moments. 

You bit down a whine. “I was just
” you trailed off as he teased his index and middle fingers against your opening. 

“Just what baby? Just thinking?” he said as he finally pushed himself off of you and propped himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze became a familiar dark. He moved at a godlike speed as he snatched his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs. 

Jungkook pulled away from you and rolled his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins pulling off his shirt. You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. 

He threw his shirt off to the side of the bed, his sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and crawled down his chest were wonderfully free now. “My eyes are up here, little mouse” he said and your eyes immediately shot back up to meet his gaze. He leaned towards you, muscled arms coming to cage you in against the headboard. 

“No one is looking at your eyes bunny boy” you attempted to quip back. Completely failing to mask the tremor in your voice. Jungkook always had a way of making you feel powerless under his gaze when he was on top of you like this. 

His hand grabbed beneath your knee and yanked you unforgivingly until you were slumped down onto your back with a squeak. You settled with his knee pressed directly against your core. Jungkook stayed towering over you. 

He placed his hand gently around the base of your neck as he leaned in to properly grind his thigh into you. “Is that right? No one’s looking at my eyes, huh?” he murmured darkly, thumb pressing a little harder into the side of your neck. You sobbed, soaked panties rubbing roughly against his leg. 

“Are you gonna touch me?” you interrupted, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook pursed his lips together in thought. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “Not too sure yet.”

You whined. “Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckled, running his hand up your waist and taking your dress with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouthed at your neck. “Cute,” he cooed. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You trembled, chest heaving into him as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gulped. “You just do it better.” Jungkook followed your admission with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

You mewled in response, determined not to give him the satisfaction of answering his question. Cause you both new the answer was yes. He made you cum so much better than you could.

“Remove your clothes for me...” he whispered gruffly yet sweet as he pulled himself from you. 

You hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes you caught Jungkook’s mouth falling open in awe at the semi-nude sight of you before him. After finally removing your bra and panties, you threw them to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you observed how he licked his lips shamelessly as he took in the view of your beautifully perky nipples that drove him absolutely insane. You looked into his deep eyes, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from palming his cock over the confinements of his pants – watching you get worked up just for him. 

“Are we that type of couple, Jungkook?” you whispered his name sweetly as you slowly climb on top of him. You straddled him, pushing your breasts flush against his chest.

“Which type are you referring to?” he murmured back as his hand moved back to between your thighs – feeling the damp patch of your essence now overflowing. You felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.

“The ones who have an argument, then have angry make up sex?” you giggled as you began pressing soft, delicate kisses along his neck. Jungkook’s eyes shut tightly as he felt your teeth nip at him – causing a breath of air to leave his lungs while you began sucking on his skin – leaving your mark on him. The next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled your mouth away from his neck and flipped you over. He was now hovering over you and began continuing on you what you had started on him

“Jungkook...” you let his name occupy your mouth and your thoughts as he suckled on your skin – alternating between kissing you, biting you and dragging his teeth further south to your boobs.

“Let us see how much of a good girl you can be for me...” you suddenly felt his breath dangerously close to the mound between your legs, before his hands began kneading and gripping at your ass-cheeks. Jungkook moved his face right into you – just shy of his nose touching your folds from behind as he took in your sweet scent. He wanted to devour you whole – but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to hear you beg and plead for your own pleasure and release. You trembled at the contact of his index finger running along your slippery lips, feeling it hastily stroke your bud before he pulled it back down again – repeating the same action over and over.

 Jungkook smirked at the noises coming from you; whimpers of frustration, want and need. He knew you were like putty in his hands with the way your lewd wetness heavily coated his finger; and he would have wanted it no other way.

“Please Jungkook...please stop teasing me – I need you so fucking badly I – “you rolled your head to the opposite side – placing your blazing cheek against the pillow in an attempt to extinguish the apparent fire that was burning your entire face. You knew he was making you wait for it – and you both simultaneously loved and hated it in a hundred different ways. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, along with moans of satisfaction as his tongue continued to explore every inch of you. The scandalous sounds from his tongue and his lips filled the room as he continued to consume you. 

“I’m so close Jungkook – fuck...” you moaned a string of further curses as he sped up his movements – his finger now wiggling heavily over your clit as his tongue probed you even deeper than before.

“Are you really?” he hummed, slowing his pace as you whined in response. “Hmm...I can’t have you coming undone on me just yet little mouse...where’s the fun in that? Plus, I had to wait a whole week for you to come back. Do you think I would let you cum so quickly?” he grinned coyly as he moved away from you – licking the remainder of you off his lips as you damn near cried out in anger at being denied your orgasm when it was seconds away.

God, he’s such an asshole. 

“You can cry and whine all you want...but you’re not getting anything unless I think you deserve it; do you understand me, baby?” he cooed with the heaviest form of sarcasm you had ever heard as he began coating his erection with your wetness – giving himself a few strokes as he smirked and watched you squirm in defeat underneath him. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, before turning onto your stomach as fast as you could to avoid his arrogant gaze. 

As you laid faced away from him, all you could feel was the thick width of his cock resting between your cheeks as Jungkook took it upon himself to slowly grind himself into you – giving him the minimal amount of pleasure and you the maximum amount of excruciating frustration.

“Yes! I understand...please...I’ll do anything, please!” you shamelessly pleaded – hearing the desperation in your own voice as you moved your ass backwards into him. Jungkook chuckled before he began sprinkling light kisses the whole way up your spine – the fleeting feeling of his lips leaving damp patches on your skin being enough to make it feel like he was burning you with desire for more of him.

“Good girl” Jungkook praised you – letting you feel the tip of his cock resting just on top your drenched entrance. And – without warning, he quickly eased himself in as far as he could go; hearing you let out breathy moans and whimpers as he pressed deeper.  

“Louder” he commanded as he leaned back – looking down to view his member leave your tight walls – much to both of your displeasures. “I want the entire world to know who’s fucking your pussy like this right now” he slammed back inside you, feeling your slickness engulf him as your screams filled the room. 

“That’s it Y/N, that’s my good girl” Jungook growled as he began pounding you into you at an unforgiving pace. You cried and sobbed feeling his cock reach deeper inside you with each time his skin smacked against yours. Jungkook relished in the look of your ass every time it bounced off his lower abdomen as he continued pummelling into you mercilessly – when he saw your hand reach back to try and hold his. Knowing that you needed to feel the security of his grasp, Jungkook leaned over your back and laced his fingers with yours – giving you fast, deep strokes of his cock while you felt it slam against your precious nerves inside you. Jungkook knew you were already on the verge of letting go from the way your voice got louder and higher – along with your walls constricting around his member so tightly that he had to almost hold his breath to not finish before you.

“Cum for me – you earned it sweetheart, let go and let me hear your beautiful voice” he cooed into your ear. And, like his words were the only thing that could set you free, you came hard around him while you closed your eyes tight as you felt your orgasm pour out of you. Jungkook coaxed you through your cries of ecstasy as he slowed his thrusts down – still keeping their depth while his groans harmonised with your own voice in the wake of your pleasure. And, just as quickly as it came, your high left your body – leaving you slumped face down into the pillow with no will to do much else other than breathe. You felt Jungkook slowly slide out of you – feeling the emptiness he left behind while he began pulling you up and back into his chest, his hands then roaming over every inch of your skin he could find.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he purred, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and letting you know that he was still standing to attention with the way his member pressed into your ass. You let out an airy chuckle, still not able to maintain a coherent train of thought.

“Mmhm” you hummed, reaching behind you to let your hand rest on the back of his neck, letting your fingers get lost in his hair as Jungkook dotted your neck with kisses once more.

“I can’t get enough of you – no matter how much you give me, no matter how much I take...” he murmured on top of your skin, making you shiver from head to toe and smile from ear to ear.

“What are you waiting for then, bunny boy?” you replied, turning around to him and coming face to face with his dark hooded eyes. “I want you to take more...take me, Jungkook” you mewled as Jungkook’s hands began caressing all his favourite parts of you – your hips and the tops of your thighs included. 

You swapped positions and you positioned yourself on top him. As you did, Jungkook quickly pulled his legs underneath your bottom before crossing them below you, while you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist so that you were both in a sort of Lotus Flower position. You looked down, seeing his head perfectly level with your tits as he began kissing and nipping at your hardened nipples – making you reel from the sensitive sensation that coursed through you. You observed his hand as it slipped underneath you – grabbing a hold of his pulsating member and angling it right before your welcoming entrance once again.

“Baby...aren’t you forgetting something?” you questioned immediately in reference to the fact that he was about to enter you whilst you both found yourself in the most romantic baby-making position known to man. Jungkook shook his head as he looked up into your eyes, his stare completely melting you from the inside out.

“I want to feel you when I cum inside you...I want to make you mine in every way possible...will you let me?” his husky voice travelled to every single part of your soul as you let your mouth hang agape. 

“But – what if...you know?” you replied, wondering how he felt about the most obvious thing that could happen from not using protection. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N” he whispered softly, feeling himself press against your small opening as the tip of his cock became engulfed by your slick tightness. “’If it happens, it happens. I would want no other woman to mother my children” you both let out an intense moan in turn as he pushed his way inside you. When Jungkook thought about you carrying his first child and bringing the product of your love into the world; with him becoming a father and you becoming a mother, it filled him with delicate feelings of paternal happiness he knew he could never feel with anyone else but you. 

You bit your lip hard as you rolled your hips at a rhythmical pace into his – feeling every inch of him curving inside you. Jungkook placed one hand below your bottom, while cradling your back with his free arm as a means to let you set the pace of your love making, but still letting him have full control over your every movement. You felt wave after wave of pleasure strike you as your clit moved flush against Jungkook’s body that was tight against yours; and your moans continued to spill from your lips as he looked up into your face – his eyes full of life and love as he seemingly peered right into your soul. In contrast to Jungkook’s way of asserting himself over you just moments ago, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he let his mouth hang open – panting and groaning at the feeling of pleasure from being inside you and so close to you.

“I love you...so much, Jungkook” you managed to speak – feeling your body almost grow limp from having little to no energy left as you felt your sweat drip down your temples. Sensing your exhaustion, Jungkook helped you lay down on your back to the bed – keeping himself still lodged inside you as he rested himself between your legs. His thrusts were slow, deep and meaningful as he pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his – pinning them to the bed while he felt your pulse rocket as he pushed you once again to your second orgasm of the evening. You felt like the entire world was spinning as you attempted to moan and writhe in fulfilment – but unfortunately, no sound left your mouth as you produced a silent cry in the wake of Jungkook’s pleasure-filled stokes that reached deeper and deeper within you.

“And I... I love you Y/N” Jungkook’s lips found yours for the millionth time as he felt himself twitch inside of you – his entire seed mixing with your juices as he came deep within you. He tensed every single one of his muscles, letting you swallow each of his moans as he slowed down gently.

“I’m so happy that you’re mine...” he almost whimpered as his movements ceased – before letting himself collapse on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you raised your arms up and over his back to hug him even closer to you.

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine, too” you kissed the top of his head – still feeling his cock buried inside of you as you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

Jungkook raised his head a fraction to look at you – his appearance both thoughtful and endearing as he held on to you. “I really am sorry Y/N. I never want you to feel like your aren’t a priority to me” he blinked gently as you continued to listen to his heartfelt, post love making thoughts.

“I know” you replied quietly, tracing the muscles along his back with your fingers. “And I’m sorry too. I guess we both just need to communicate a little better”.

“My Y/N – You are my world. You – you are my everything. I used to not understand what people meant when they said that to someone they loved, because before you – I thought music was my only love. But every day I spend with you, you give me a hundred more reasons to adore you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that.”

You felt yourself well up at his words of endearment. He really was your world and you now knew for a fact that you were his too. 

So I Saw You Were Taking Requests, How About Writing On This Idea That Jungkook Is Dating Someone (they

“Ooh, I forgot to say” you interrupted yours and Jungkook post love making silence. 

“James said I could approve the soundtrack for our film” 

Jungkook smiled to himself upon hearing you refer to it as your film. 

“If that’s what James said, who am I to undermine the director.” He declared. 

“The songs are on my phone in the Media Folder but im gonna hop in the shower while you listen. Cause it will break my heart if you don’t like them” he chuckled, half joking half serious. 

“I know im going to love them babe. But you go and take your shower, I’ll be right here when you come out”. 

He left with a smile. 

You scrolled through his phone to find the music files and tears began to fill your eyes once again as you read the tracklist: 

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

And the list went on. It was his list. His list of your phrases that made him smile. Before you could even finish reading the tracklist, you ran to the shower you embrace your bunny boy and show him for a second round how much you loved him. 

Although, if you had taken just a few moments to read the tracklist, Jungkook is sure you would have loved the last song on the soundtrack. It was the only title that wasn’t you contribution, it was his: 

12. “I hope she’ll marry me”

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Hope ya'll enjoyed it! My requests are open, feel free to send em across :)


Tags :
1 year ago

💜💜💜

 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)
 Soulmates (real)

⋇⋆✩⋆⋇ soulmates (real) ⋇⋆✩⋆⋇

1 year ago

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patchℱ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away
.might as well
already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

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~-~

Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😼‍💹 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.


Tags :
1 year ago

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, the word 'r*pe' is used to describe what Geumjae did to her but there are no graphic depictions of it, allusions to physical abuse, graphic violence, there is a brief moment where someone not in the pack touches the m/c's ass without her consent, blood, briefly implied suicidal actions- but it's nothing like what you haven't seen before.

W/c: 12.6k

A/n: i'll be attending my cousin's wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

You dab at the skin under your eyes carefully. You know they must look red and puffy. Tae’s careful instruction to treat your skin well as all good baby pups should has somehow stuck.

Even here. Even now.

“Do people like always loose it with you? Like when they walk in, do they all cry?”

Your therapist (yes, your therapist) across the narrow room is the opposite of threatening; soft face, pulled back hair, neutral clothing that might just as well be out of a country living catalog.

You don’t know where Jin found her, what little medical booklet he perused like a take-out menu, or how much her services cost per hour. Those kinds of details were not for delicate little pups like yourself to worry over in his opinion.

Most of the time, you're glad not to have to worry about things like this. But right now you're chomping at the bit. Weighting your odds. The other unknowns hover before you. One sticks out. One you're most concerned about.

Is she trustworthy?

Nothing about Dr. Rima seems outwardly threatening, yet you curl in on yourself. She smiles, scrawling something on the top of her notepad before she answers, and something taught in you ticks tighter.

“You’re correct in assuming that most people I meet cry in the first few minutes when they meet me, but you are the first person to cry on my threshold. Most of the time people wait until they’re at least in the chair.”

That has a smile tugging at your lips, albeit unwillingly. Your smile is like a leashed wild animal, with too many teeth when you feel threatened. Contained for now.

If you got up and walked out right now, would she call someone to restrain you? Will you be committed if you tell the truth? Or are you just misinterpreting the stakes?

You are here of your own volition. Even if it was a condition that Jin and Namjoon weren't willing to budge on after the events of last week. It's not like the pack is having you put in a mental institution or something, although they did come with you today. For moral support.

The waiting room was stuffy and yellow, one of those little waterfall mirrors in the corner that you’d watched in a fog sat between Yoongi and Jimin while Jin filled out the necessary paperwork. His pen hovering over the small boxes every few seconds. He'd taken the afternoon off of work to make sure he was there, just to fill out paperwork.

Are you on any medications? Do you have a history with substance abuse disorders? Do you have any intent to harm yourself or others?

Sending glares to anyone who dared to come too close, Jimin had looked and smelled threatening. You're not sure he’d have let you go into an isolated location with her if she’d been an alpha. Jin too had looked close to snapping.

yoongi was the only one who looked somewhat calm, althoug his hand was tightly laced with yours (and a little sweaty)

It’s a wonder that the rest of your pack had agreed to stay home for this. This was just one of several concessions you’d made after what the pack has politely begun referring to as 'sad pup time' during your more vulnerable moments, and blatantly 'your breakdown' during less fragile ones.

But sweet words or not. The facts remain; You are here in this chair after a nearly tearful departure.

You’d met the therapist in the doorway, shaking in your boots, and upon being separated from your pack with the promise that they’d be just downstairs in the lobby, you’d followed her inside.

Yoongi had made a noise in his throat, making you turn back. Dr.Rima turned to watch as he’d pulled you in for a last-minute hug, ducking down to your level. “One hour, okay? We’ll be just downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

His eyes were heavy-looking at the stranger. Unwilling to let you go just yet. A little stalwart, a little standoffish.

“Take good care of her please. She’s very precious to us.”

Precious.

That much was evident by the nearly three-page document that both your pack alpha and omega sent through once Namjoon and Jin had selected Dr. Rima as your therapist. Dr. Rima has quite a bit of experience dealing with overprotective pack alphas and pack omegas. Let alone a pack alpha and pack omega who have such a clinical background.

Yes, you must be well taken care of. At least on paper.

She’s already itching a little, to get her hands on all the others. Packmates and their names are written out, as a part of all intake files. Large packs aren't so common anymore. Her eyes fix on one name; Min Yoongi (beta, mate) unemployed.

The big windows help it feel not so small, on the second floor, the trees block out most of the view of the park below. A small voice that sounds like Hobi whispers that it’s a shame she doesn’t have any plants in here, they'd do so well with all of this natural light.

Your knees clack together a little, moving listlessly, the anxiety in your body begging to be released somewhere.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you wanted to come in today.”

You avoid her eye contact, looking instead at the tops of the trees, you don’t know why they haven’t changed color yet, all of the trees on your street are half bare already. She has a smooth inoffensive scent, but you’re mated to a beta so you know what to expect when it comes to the relaxing effects, the subtle haze at the edge of your vision. It must come in handy, having the biological upper hand, when it comes to patients in distress.

If therapists are rare, beta therapists must be even rarer.

You can practically hear Jin, “Nothing but the best for my pup.” There is a part of your brain that won’t ever turn off, appraising everything around you. The designer pumps that she wears. The knickknacks on her desks, there are no photos of any packs that she might call her own, just a pink calendar in the corner.

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too &lt;3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

The pack has kept you substantially plied with little solutions since your breakdown last week. They haven’t let you rot like usual. They’ve kept your days full of little activities; nothing too extravagant or tiring. Letting you rest when you need to and encouraging you to get outside of your comfort zone when it’s clear you’re giving in.

It comes down to that more often than not; giving in or not giving in.

Not giving in looks like trips back to the beach with Hobi. Like going to the salon with Tae and shopping with Jimin. Or another workout class with Jungkook where you’d spent more of the time lounging on the yoga mat than actually moving your body. But you'd still tenuously agreed to sign up for more classes under the encouragement of Wonho and Jungkook.

And now twice a week, you’ve got a mat to call your own during any classes, in the back, if you decide you want it. Your callender hasn't felt so full in years, it feels strange, to have something to do during the weeks that isn't just scraping the bottom of the barrel and doing house chores. Strange in a good way.

Not all of the pack's solutions aren’t silly but sometimes, silly is a good way to push out the dark.

The morning after your breakdown; you'd watched your pack work, fighting back a flush. Sitting at the kitchen bar stool while Yoongi applied painter’s tape to the floor, not intent on keeping back paint this time, but marking it off for you.

You’re a little bit more determined this morning although your first night without nightmares in a little over a month had kept you in higher spirits. You feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

“You don’t need to- I promise- I’m not going-“ but your requests had fallen on deaf ears. Worry building until Jungkook stood up fast grinning up at you, pupils wide brown pools from getting scented stupid this morning.

(Scented stupid, you'd been scented by the pack too, had struggled a little against it, too shy as Namjoon dragged his throat along yours, squirming until yoongi held you down a little, checking with you each few seconds that you wanted that, that your squirming was really just needing to feel a firm touch, a dominant one.

You will go nowhere until your pack have had their right to you, scenting you up, making your scent gland tender and swollen under their teeths and tongues.

It felt so much better to be made to handle it, each of the pack, even hobi, hovering over you to scent you with their wrists and throats. until you smelled so claimed by them that you couldn't breathe without smelling it- Pack.

Jungkook had pouted until he'd gotten the same treatment, although the omegaspace haze had lasted longer on him than it had on you.

He stands up so fast that his hair fluffs. Catching himself on your leg with a giggle before he topples over. grinning up at you before pressing a sleepy sloppy kiss to your knee and then another to your lips,

“No pup zone!" Omega Space Jungkook can get a little bit ridiculous even at the best of times. He's got a case of the morning omegaspace zoomies as he giggles and nips at your nose. You playfully push at his chest. He doesn't budge.

"Your whole face is a no-pup zone." The dissatisfied pur-chirp he'd let out had sounded half hurt, half encouraged.

Namjoon had eased your discomfort. Pulling you from the stool to lean back against his chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm on your legs as Jungkook huffes into your throat.

Having this failsafe- this rule, does not mean that they think you’re going to fail, these are guard rails to keep you on track. Namjoon looks down at you, his full bottom lip tucked a little, not a pout but close. “This is the easiest solution, if you don’t go near it then maybe, maybe it helps.”

His fingers drum against your skin again, and you lean back into him. Uneasy but willing to let him soothe you.

So yes, you’ve been banned from the kitchen, banned from crossing that line that runs from the edge of the coffee stand and just in front of Tae's library room, to the island and over to the fridge. Unless there is someone else close by. You are not allowed here without supervision.

It’s a simple solution, limiting you from the place that you use to hurt yourself. Never mind the fact that there are dozens if not hundreds of other possible avenues you could use. Your creativity knows no bounds when it comes to pain, but you quiet that part of yourself when the desire for hurt gets loud.

You can’t say it hasn’t helped. But then again, the pack has kept you so busy since your breakdown that you haven't had any time to think of hurting yourself let alone put any plans into action.

Across from you, Dr. Rima waits expectantly.

"It was kind of triggered by this thing that happened."

The tip of her pen bobs a little as she writes. “Could you describe the event to me? Or is that something you're not ready to talk about?" You nod and she waits patiently. It takes you a breath to answer.

“A little less than a month ago one of my packmates and I found a dead body."

You feel a little vindicated at her inhale of breath. Wide eyes that say yes- that is something traumatic, yes, it's fair that it kinda triggered you into a more fragile state.

"It dredged up a lot of feelings about my past. Before that, I was kind of starting to feel s-safe which I haven't like, ever been able to feel."

“And your packmate?"

There is new treacherous wetness balancing on your waterline. “Hobi’s a lot stronger than me, his past and mine are really similar but he just- handles his better. A lot of the time it feels like I learn from him even though he’d tell you the opposite is true. He’s my best friend." Your voice goes quiet, "I love my mate more than I love anyone else, but sometimes- Hobi just- gets me you know?" You go a little misty-eyed. Hands tightening on Hobi's sweatshirt.

“Yet he’s not the one sitting in my chair right now.”

You close your eyes, "he's not."

“For what it’s worth- you can have more than one best friend.” Dr. Rima writes as quickly as she can, taking it down. “How long have you been romantically involved with him? Who came first, your mate or him?”

You jolt forward, “Oh no- we’re not- Hobi and I aren't-" You take a deep breath to clarify. "Everyone else in the pack is together but Hobi and I are just friends. We all have our like
 little units?”

"Primary partners." Dr. Rima offers.

"Yeah, that." But even that doesn't really cover it, because while Jin and Namjoon are JinandNamjoon and Jimin and Tae are JiminandTae. Jungkook is everyone's problem (in the best of ways) and you and Tae are something else too. The pack's girls the rest of them would say.

(You and Hobi are, well, YouandHobi.)

It sounds weird to say it once it comes out of your mouth. It makes an odd choked feeling lodge in your throat. Too much hope and too much shame for hoping blooming in your chest.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about him.”

She folds her hands over her knees, setting her pen down. Dr. Rima has chubby hands, disproportionate to her body. They look like they'd be soft.

She reminds you of your mom a little bit.

“That’s okay, we can talk about whatever you want. What you want and need is going to be the focus of our sessions. You’re the pilot here. I’m just here to help you interpret your thoughts and feelings.”

She folds her hands over themselves, setting her pen aside, “Why don’t we talk about the last time you remember feeling safe.”

"Physically or mentally?"

"Either, you can choose."

The rest of the session passes frightfully quickly. You can’t say that you don’t cry again. When you finally talk about Geumjae, her smile quickly dissipates. You talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw. Until you’ve depleted the whole box of her tissues. She shows you she's got more hidden under her desk when you apologize, her secret stash gets a laugh out of you.

“The fact that your pack omega filled out your paperwork isn’t the most unusual, but his preference for daily meetings or every other day is a little bit on the nose for a pack omega, I’m wondering if you share his preference.”

“He’s just overprotective.” She eyes you like Jin has good reason to be. You don’t blush this time, a little more comfortable with Dr. Rima than you were at the beginning of this. “I think maybe more than once a week but not every day.”

“How does Monday- Friday sound?”

~-~

When you walk to the door with Dr. Rima Yoongi stands abruptly from his chair.

You can tell by the shiny edge to his to his scent that he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He gets the information about your next appointment and then tugs you out the door.

Jins got his legs crossed, fancy leather shoes glinting in the sunlight by the windows. The lobby is buzzing with people coming and going. This building isn't just a therapy office but a collection of other businesses with a few shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well. He looks up and double-takes when he spots you, not standing from his chair, but he opens his arms and you fold yourself along his side, conscious of the other eyes but this.

This you need.

You press your face along the column of Jin's neck, breathing his cream scent in deep.

“Oh pup.”

Your red-rimmed eyes are too obvious and you sniffle wetly, “It was okay, I like Dr. Rima.” He laces your hands together and resists the urge to pester you with questions. Yoongi's hand is still tangled in the hood of your (Hobi's) sweatshirt. Your therapy sessions should be yours and only yours. Yoongi and Jin do not have Dr. patient confidentiality.

And yet the need to know if that helped burns through them. They won't have to wonder for long.

By the coffee stand, Jimin waves and he returns to you when the barista hands over a bag of sweets and a quad of cups. Jin continues scrawling something out for another second before he’s standing and pulling you in for another chaste scent mark.

“Let’s go home.” It's somewhere between an order and a request. But no one disobeys.

On the drive back (37 minutes total) you're a little quiet. You let the sounds of the others be your buffer. You look down at your phone and stare at Hobi’s texts. You respond with just a little heart emoji when you finally still can’t figure out a good response and you're close to home.

Home is its usual conflagration of moving bits and pieces. Each of your packmates is like a shiny cog in a pretty clock, tick tick tick tocking along. Tae and Namjoon are at the table looking through some of the pack’s bills, the pastries and coffee cups litter the table with little piles of powdered sugar and cinnamon. jimin bought enough for the whole pack.

You look at them a little too long, although not because you don't want to eat them. It’s been a while, a few weeks since you’ve made something like that, but every single one of the pastries is something you know how to make. You don’t know why you keep looking at them.

Tae smiles at you, still in the doorway. and it makes you feel a little less like you want to burst into tears. Her voice speaks of the quiet time you have in the library (the tenderness of having someone else do your makeup, another person combing your hair). You hope you'll get some dedicated one-on-one time with her soon.

"Hey little lovely, How was it?"

"She put me through the wringer but I think she got some suds out."

She and Namjoon giggle and you smile small. and you can tell that Namjoon wants to ask you more but he doesn't after a pointed look from your mate. There are footsteps in the hall and before you can move to take off your shoes Hobi is standing in the archway.

Yoongi efficiently strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt with a frustrated huff. It's Kind of like he’s trying to peel away the sadness (your clothes are soaked with your sour scent, rainy and unhappy. Regardless of Jin’s scent mark, you kind of stink).

You might have overheard their words just before you got into the car. Jin's hissed admonishment. “A lot of people cry during therapy Minnie, she’s not in trouble, can’t you smell it?”

Your scent is mellow underneath the memory of your distress, going sweeter by the second. Yoongi wants all memories of your sad scent banished from the house. Hobi stands at the door to the hallway, shifting back and forth, his eyes a little warmer than usual, hands shaking a little bit.

You’ve caught him looking at you a lot since the night he ran away, in the quiet moments when he thinks you’re not noticing. Eyes a shade warmer than usual, a sweetened franticness to his scent. Nervousness and happiness mix like blueberries and whipped cream.

When he pulls up beside you during movie nights and sits thigh to thigh with you. When his hands intertwine with yours over his knee or sometimes or when he pulls your legs sideways across his lap. He looks at you like that when he's doing the small things and he's looking at you like that right now.

You know how love starts, that it starts with the small things.

Hobi resists the urge to open his arms. would you come to him? Would you fold your body along his front so that he could feel your heartbeat? Pressing again and again to the opposite side of his chest with every thump?

He doesn’t say hey, but he does step a little closer. Fingers reaching out. The pad of his index finger slides down the meat of your pinky till it reaches the ball of your wrist. His own special hello.

Your breath hitches, just barely, almost imperceptible if it wasn’t for how close he stands.

A look behind you says Yoongi hasn’t made himself scarce, instead fussing with the pack's coats. Now that it’s getting colder, they don’t all fit by the door. You look behind Hobi and find Namjoon watching the three of you, he raises a singular eyebrow.

“How was it? Bad?” Hobi asks, breaking the silence and the tension, drawing your attention back to him. The next breath you let out is a lot less heavy, and your eyelashes flutter as he steps closer. Hobi smells good, a little earthy, mellowing out his usual sweetness. Sweet for an alpha.

“It was kind of hard, I kinda wanted to run away for a bit at the beginning." You can't keep meeting his eyes with how intensely he's looking at you and they flutter down to his hands. "I almost did.”

"I'm glad you didn't pup." Jin comments, full of reproach, the mirror to you and Hobi as he leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon's forehead. Shucking off his lapelled jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

“If you’d have called me, I’d have picked you up. We could still like- run away, if you're down.”

But the house is starting to heat up, and Jin and Yoongi are starting to cook. The light is still honey-yellow happy. And you tip your cheek into his arm. He finally- finally lets his arms settle around your waist.

“Nah, not yet.” You drag out the syllable all playful, and something forbidden stirs in Hobi’s gut. “Jin’s making my favorite tonight. not until later?”

Hobi goes silent, pulls back, biting his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes down. and-

You laugh and Hobi blushes. “Just spit it out.”

Everyone’s been a little bit touchier with you since that night (a little more overbearing too). You won’t immediately chalk Hobi's touchyness up to what you're all thinking. But the affection makes your scent gland feel tender. Zinging when Yoongi steps up behind you and nuzzles into it, huffing again.

Friends can hug each other after therapy right? Hobi swallows thickly and you feel it against your collar bone as he pulls back and steps away from you. “I ugh- got you a present?”

You brighten up instantly, and Hobi's anxiety increases tenfold. A bit of casual mischievousness on the edge of your lips that always have Hobi feeling like he’s being teased even though he knows he isn’t.

“Oh? A present? You’ve never gotten me a present before!”

He kicks at imaginary dust bunnies, fighting back what he knows is a noticeable flush. “I ugh- still owe you, from the car you know and honestly it's not even like a big gift it's like- so small in comparison and-”

Yoongi huffs and continues to disrobe you. Pulling your sweater over your head when he’s not satisfied that your unhappy scent has dissipated. Muttering something like. “hopeless alpha” under his breath. Your tank top pulls up, inches of your hip and skin on display. It's nothing that Hobi hasn't seen before and yet the blush reignites. The sunshine to your morning glory.

“I guess you're right.” But it doesn’t feel like it. Hobi doesn’t owe you anything for that, not when it was so easy to give. Not when you’ve gotten so many late-night drives from that gift.

Hoseok got the idea for your courting gift, one morning while watching you say goodbye to Namjoon:

The pack alpha has always been a fan of goodbye kisses, good morning, and goodnight kisses too. The particular kiss that morning had ‘I’ll miss you’ written all over it. It was so pretty in the way that you lingered, arms around Namjoon’s neck. His hand is underneath your shirt on the small of your back. Such a small touch and yet so gently possessive that it had Hobi aching to see it.

Hobi is unfortunately prone to jealousy and it turns the back of his neck hot. Makes his hands feel oddly tender. He's distracted by the visual, the task of packing up his work bag forgotten. Hoseok’s shift at the flower shop doesn’t start for another few hours, and he’s waiting, watching, an unhappy voyeur.

You and Namjoon have quite the height difference, if he was in between the two of you he’d be the perfect middle ground. That’s just another stupid thought, another stupid thought in the countless number of stupid thoughts that he’s had. (I like my alphas a little pathetic, and nothing's more pathetic than an alpha pining after an omega.)

He grumbles.

Yoongi prattles on, more awake than all of them as he outlines what you have to do today to make progress on the house- which is to go find a place that sells cheaper tile than the ones you first thought of using in the bathroom on the first floor. And maybe change it up a little.

The bathrooms escaped the renovations somehow, and a few nights ago- Jimin had admitted how much they actually use it even though it’s not the pack's primary bathroom anymore. Now that it’s not in use, they’re more willing to part with it for a few days for some very necessary re-styling. it toes the line from vintage to old a little too hard. The yellow is a little
yellow.

Yoongi wants to go light and airy with the color scheme, like he did with the upstairs bathroom and it's seafoam and brown tones. But like with most of the house, your vote is for colorful. “How about a light blue-” Yoongi continues to argue while you kiss Namjoon a little senseless in the doorway, at least Namjoon seems properly dazed, chasing your lips when you pull apart.

“No- we don’t have a room that’s magenta yet!”

This starts the same argument as always; “We can’t make every room in this house pink for Tae.”

But goodbyes take precedence, and when you turn back and smile at Hobi he flushes, shy to be caught looking. He moves, stepping around you and Namjoon to put his water bottle into his bag when you shout, “Stop, Seokie!”

Seokie is a new nickname, one that Jin only uses in the quietest of moments that you've somehow adopted when you don't want to call him Hobi. Hobi always thought that if you’d use any other nickname with him- you’d use daisy (he might want you and yoongi to share that pet name). But he’s a good pup and stops what he’s doing. Every atom in his body every electron no longer circulates neutrons but circulates you instead. Pulled in by your gravity.

You’ve moved so suddenly that you’ve spilled a bit of your coffee onto the floor. Maybe kissing Namjoon has left you feeling a little dizzy too. Yoongi just sighs fondly and wipes it up. Jimin looks up from his phone, smiling when he sees.

“You’ve got a rainbow on your cheek.”

It’s a trick of the light, early morning sunshine refracted through the mottled window just right to cast a single rainbow on the wall and on Hobi when he steps in front of it.

You cup his cheek, finger skimming across where the rainbow sits.

"Pretty."

Hobi feels hot all over.

At Tae’s call of, “If I have to do my eyeliner one more time I’m going to scream!” You giggle and dart away from him. Going to tend to Tae with a soft reply of "I've got you baby."

Hoseok is left, blushing in the morning light. Staying still like you might come by and cup his cheek again, Like a flower staying still in the hope of pollination.

Hobi is left, wanting to scream and somehow demand you back, both would be fair. His plight isn't missed by his packmates, who lean in like a set of jackals, grinning ear to ear at hobi's flustered predicament.

She's going to send him into rut if she's not careful Jin thinks, but doesn't say. instead he teases, “You’ve got to leave in the next ten-minute Hobi.”

Only then does Hoseok move- released from his spell and finally losing the rainbow on his cheeks though they might as well have stayed with how happy and warm he feels. How absolutely incandescent the love is glowing in his chest. A full spectrum of feelings, longing for you to come back.

He almost trips over noodle, darting after you with his tail raised high, catching himself on the edge of the couch at the last second, one shoe on and one off, his water bottle falling and spilling in the process.

yoongi sighs, and stoops to wipe it up. Jimin giggles and pulls Hobi up by his hips, the alpha's fingers feel hot where they've touched him, scalding. “What’s wrong, omega got your tongue?” yoongi returns to his breakfast, throwing the wad of soggy paper towels into the trash.

Jungkook laughs, “It’s more like he wants an omega to have his tongue in her-“

“You guys are gross,” He pushes at Jimin’s shoulder finally moving right. Yoongi hides his smile in a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

Hobi doesn’t think about the rainbows again until his next afternoon shift. When the low angle of the autumn sun cuts through the windows and catches the suncatchers that they hang in the doorway of the flower shop and cast more rainbows- dozens of them really across him and the flower.

He remembers when you came to visit, how you'd lingered over them, looked at them a second longer than you looked at the plants.

It’s a bit of a kitschy display. Other polished stones and nick nacks sitting on the deep shelf along with some smaller potted plants. A little tray of rose-quartz stones falsely advertises themselves as ‘heat reducers.’

The colors start to blend, and the rainbows sway softly in the light, gentle and pretty. He snaps a photo and thinks about sending it to you, but doesn’t.

The store is blissfully empty of Hobi's coworkers when he selects three of them. It's quiet when he packages them in tissue paper, one with a huge pink stained-glass moon at the top, another with three tiers. Each of them is delicate and pretty in their own right. No one’s bought a single one of them in the last three months anyway. They'll hardly be missed. Hobi gives himself a fat employee discount.

Hobi is unfortunately bad at hiding things, especially when he's nervous. Luckily the pack alpha doesn’t have it in him to tease. Namjoon had in fact been only too encouraging and given him a pep talk just this morning about courting and courting presents.

“The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t like it- and then you just have to try again which you were already planning on doing anyway.” Namjoon is quite simply the best at courting. It doesn't matter which subgender; alphas, beta’s, and omegas have all fallen under his touch. At least Hoseok has the opportunity to learn from a professional. Somehow the thought that you'd compare him to namjoon doesn't cross his mind.

Hoseok isn’t good at the romantic gestures that courting necessitates. He’s more of the ‘there when you need him’ kind of lover. Ready to make the small changes to make his loved ones' lives more manageable. Ready with his car keys for adventures. Those parts are easy, this is out of his depth.

Especially when it comes to you. Even After the love confessions, (are confessions still confessions if they’re so internal?) Hobi feels mostly unmoored. About to shatter upon unknown shores.

God, crushes are so frustrating (in the best kind of way, the way that keeps you sighing and daydreaming, the kind of way that makes you look in the mirror a little longer).

Tae helped him half an hour before she started on the pack's paperwork. They'd spent an hour deciding which places were best to hang them to get the greatest number of rainbows. She had even fussed with his hair a little to make it lie right. Having him hop up on the couch so she could see Hobi's face from your angle.

Hobi wanted to make sure there were at least one or two rainbows when he shows you. But when he leads you to the sunroom, his hands over your eyes (the same position you found yourself in when Namjoon surprised you with the nesting pod) there are more of them than there were when he set them up, whole constellations swaying softly.

The suncatchers are pretty and twinkly sparkly in the golden hour light, and your lips part in a simple show of awe when Hobi tells you you can open your eyes. It's so bright, they send dozens of little rainbows across the walls and your nesting pod. Over the white couch and the fig in the corner.

It’s very very pretty. and when you turn back to look a thim, Hobi once again has a rainbow on his cheek.

Your eyes twinkle, but you don't say anything. you stay quiet for long enough that Hobi gets nervous. his anxiety makes him talk fast. “I hung them here- but you can put them wherever you want- in the kitchen or upstairs or I can get you more for any places you want to put them- or- or- ”

You just about tackle him, arms looping around his neck resting your weight in his arms that instinctively grip around your waist. Hobi teeters, unsteady with such a heavy heart, toppling both of you onto the couch as you cry. "I love it!"

You’re sprawled not lying across him but his hand goes out to support the way you cling and rub your face into his chest, a happy little chirp slipping past your lips.

The wild thing in Hobi’s chest settles, settles, and curls around you. Tight and protective like a vice. You pull back, and your smile is just as bright.

Hobi sags, and rests his neck back against the couch, "Good- thank fucking god- I was so fucking nervous-" You fiddle with the buttons on his flannel, it's one of Yoongi's. It seems fitting that you steal his clothes and he steals Yoongi's.

"What brought all this on?"

Hobi doesn't have a good answer, in the quiet with the rainbows, or at least an answer he's ready for. He doesn't say that this is a courting present, and he doesn't need to because instead of answering your question- he replies with one of his own.

“Wanna go for a drive later?” he asks, voice tremulous like he thinks you might refuse him. You’ve never said no to him before, never said not tonight only not right now. Do you treasure our little talks the same way I do?

“Sure, after dinner? like I said? Just-" You lean back against his chest, and Hobi’s hands go tight tight tight around your waist. Holding you close. Clingy. He does not slip his hand under your shirt to cup the side of your hip the way that Namjoon might, but the thought crosses his mind.

Hobi is a good alpha, he won't cross that line until you tell him it's okay. Until then a thin layer of fabric separates his skin from yours. You're still warm to the couch.

“Sit and watch them with me?” You ask quietly. Almost shy, like you think he’d refuse you. He nods and the two of you sit on the couch to look at the rainbows together.

Eventually, Noodle finds the two of you, meowing and hopping up to stretch out along your thighs. Worming his way between the two of you.

The rainbows don't last forever, but Hobi sits with you until they fade.

~-~

Tae’s library is just like every public library:

Tall windows, wide quiet shelves with room for the stories to breathe. A colorful young adult section and an even more colorful kid’s section. A bit aways from the tables and computers so that any over-excited pups don’t disturb the adults. Big deep beanbags for small children to cuddle up to while they ponder fairy tales and adventures only a plastic-covered book away.

Tae’s long plaid skirt barely makes a whisper along the ground. The colder weather has allowed her to live all of her cottage core fantasies, her dark academia aesthetic truly flourishing. Her shirt is a little translucent today, and the fading summer tan of her skin pokes through it in spots where her tank top doesn't hide. Pretty long earrings dangle and clink in the quiet while she works on her shelving.

Wearing her chosen clothing items at work has been a bit of a work in progress.

Most of Tae’s coworkers approve of her transition in that overly willing-to-be-an-ally way that middle-aged women who generally consider themselves progressive outside of closed doors all do. And the ones that don’t approve have swallowed their words with lingering sour eyes and raised upper lips after the general receptiveness to Tae’s social transition.

It's hard to know who's genuine with it, who just doesn't want to cause a fuss, and who just doesn't give a shit. But most of the time her outfits get one or two compliments and thats it. Tae would rather them say nothing than anything negitive.

Tae likes the quiet of the library at this time of day, the silence gives her enough room to let her imagination wander. Tae likes to file away books in mid-morning, when there are fewer people around and her humming is less likely to disturb any of the library’s patrons. She sings to the stories and they sing back, tempting her with every well-worded title and delicately chaste summary.

But she doesn’t just think about stories or the book she's writing (her book is currently giving her hell on the 30th chapter) No. Today- there is a much more interesting love story blooming in her head, in the pack's den too.

She’s been thinking about you all morning (Tae thinks about you almost every morning) there are even little poems scrawled on the edge of her newspaper. Lines that are you and a bit of Hobi too.

I wished that I might be your hair clip / to know what it feels like / to be pressed against the nape of your neck/ To be your suntan/ perched on the edge/ of what you show everyone and what you show no one/ To be the bearer of every freckle/ like the sky holds the stars/ To hold and never let go/ Like birds hold sunshine / and flowers hold songs.

Everyone had noticed of course, how much time you and Hobi have been spending together.

The pack had even talked about it during a quiet moment without you and Hobi. Yoongi’s lack of communication regarding you and Hobi. “I don’t know anything” he’d unsuccessfully lied, and nearly been heaved up and wrestled to the couch as a result. But Jungkook’s puppy eyes had unsuccessfully endeared him.

Yoongi has kept Hobi's secret, but it's kind of hard not to notice. Tae isn't a fool. Tae is a much better liar than Yoongi is- because when you'd come to her after your late-night drive to gush with her about Hobi and the rainbows over makeup. She hadn't said anything about what she knows.

Tae couldn’t tell you how many times she’d noticed little touches, Hobi’s hand lingering on the small of your back, grabbing your waist when he moved behind you in the bathroom. When he take the greatest care to set out his sweatshirts in the morning and even asks Jungkook to make sure they’re clean. They’re practically not even his sweatshirts anymore with the amount you’ve been wearing them.

Tae isn’t an idiot, she knows that Hobi’s finally realized it. While she doesn’t trust herself to play matchmaker given how poorly the first time she pointed out Hobi’s attraction went. that doesn’t mean she’s not going to park herself firmly on the edge of her fantasy land with a box of popcorn.

If they were gonna get married, would Hobi wear a red tux or black or grey? Her brain is already thinking of wedding dresses. One of these days she’s really going to have to make a Pinterest board. Hobi would probably want to do sunflowers, and that might clash with the red unless it was a fall wedding- ooh, and what about pearl details and daisies? a beach wedding might be a little too on the nose for you.

Tae is so absorbed with her shelving and her daydreaming that she doesn’t notice the sound of small shoes on the carpeted floor. Nor does she notice the light-up flash of tiny iorn man sneakers. Her musings are easily interrupted by a small tug on her skirt, shy almost. She startles a little, looking down at the sudden touch.

The little pup's thumb is wet from where it was clearly placed behind their bucked teeth. He's got wide brown eyes and soft-looking hair, Tae can't stop the smile that comes to her lips.

“I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t reach, can you help me? Please?”

Tae’s heart swells as she leans down to the pup's level. “Of course, I can! Why don’t you show me what one you wanted,” diligently Tae follows the little one a few isles over, tugged along by their insistent pulling as he tells her about the pretty cover.

The little pup turns back, furrowing his bushy brows up at Tae, “are you a princess?” he asks. Tae almost has to laugh, a bright happy gender euphoric feeling filling her chest, that feeling of I could be filling her.

She makes her whisper just a little more hushed, playing along, “Don’t tell anyone okay? It's a secret.” The little pup nods, eyes darting around like there are dragons that would threaten her.

“What gave me away?”

“Princesses wear long skirts!” the pup says cheerfully, like it makes the most sense in the world. He's a little too loud and Tae winces. He finally finds the shelve with the story. The spine glimmers pink and gold and Tae is unsurprised to find the illustrated copy of Cinderella. Not the Disney or PJ version, but the Brothers Grimm version.

Tae cringes at the pair of doves on the cover.

Tae doesn’t say that the little pup is too small to read a book so big, or that there is one with more pictures much more appropriate away from the young adult section. The child can’t be more than 6 years old.

But still, Tae retrieves it and delivers it to their waiting arms. The little one clutches it to his chest, thanks Tae, and then promptly plops themselves onto the carpeted floor right there.

He opens the first page, huffs, and then looks up at her imploringly.

“I just realized I can’t read.”

He pouts and Tae melts. Tae wonders where the pup's mother is, but really, there certainly can't be much harm in this. This isn't the first time Tae has been guilted into reading a story to a pup while their parents work or make use of the library's computers.

"Just the first page.” She intones, caution for the child’s hopes in her voice, she presses her skirt under her knees and sits on the scratchy carpet. The pup curls close to see the pictures. Resting his tiny chubby cheek in the billow of Tae’s big puffy sleeve.

Tae's chest is all tight as she reads. The pup is very well-behaved, he pauses, and asks questions in a soft voice only when Tae gives him space to respond. Tae easily ommits the parts that aren't appropriate. but tae finds herself watching the pup a little bit more as the minutes stretch.

In a few years with your own little ones around, will Tae become the defacto bedtime story reader? Will she do this with the pack's pups one day? Will she be the one to take that bright little light in their eyes that imagines things as greater and more and cultivate it? Her cheeks feel warm at the prospect, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in excitement.

Your pups and Jin's pups too- they're gonna be so loved. Tae's gonna be the best mom to them, The best alpha too.

One page turns into two and then three. In this quiet corner with only Tae’s voice as ruler and god, the little pup hinges on every word. Until there’s another voice close by. An adult not wishing to be loud, a whispered name.

“Jae?”

Tae smiles up at the woman at the end of the aisle of books. Her smile turns sweeter when Jae hops up and runs to press his face into her jeaned thighs. Tae remembers how that felt, how every scent besides Tae’s own omega mother felt overwhelming and icky.

Tae stands with a crack of her knees and makes to hand over the book, “This makes a great bedtime story until about chapter 8, that one you might want to skip until he’s a little older.”

The woman makes to smile, but it only goes so far. Tae watches in perfect detail, everything in slow motion, as her eyes flicker down to Tae’s Addams apple.

She drags her child close by their wrist quicker than Tae can blink. Tae sees the moment that the child realizes this touch isn’t gentle, wide eyes going fear-stricken as he's tugged behind her back. And then it's all downhill from there.

I'll spare you the more vile bits.

But the saddest moment of the argument that follows (Which involves not one but three of Tae's co-workers to calm down the hysterical woman whose screeches echo around the quiet library) is when the pup tries to get his mother's attention. "Mom, I liked that she was reading to me."

"He" the certified Karen hisses, moving in a way that makes the pup flinch back. "-should know better than to corrupt a pup with such- such-" her eyes dart down and up, and Tae's skin burns. "Disgusting behavior."

The misgendering doesn't even sting. What does hurt is the eyes peering in. She isn't being quiet and it's causing many of the library's patrons' attention is diverted. Tae's coworkers have put themselves between Tae and the woman. But there still aren't enough people (enough packmates) in between her and the verbal tirade.

An hour later, after the woman has left after threatening to call the police, Tae talks with his boss and his boss’s boss. The room behind the front desk is glass, and he knows that the door doesn’t keep the sound of their raised voice out.

“I wasn’t harassing her child; I was just helping him find a book for Christ sake!”

The worst part is that this isn’t the first time that this has happened. No- since Tae came out there have been two other complaints leveled against her from bigoted patrons. Both right at the beginning before she got the hang of presenting how she wanted to.

At least those confrontations weren’t face-to-face. At least those complaints didn’t end with someone threatening to call the police and a pup cowering, tugged along too roughly out the door.

The little pup had glanced back at Tae, mouth in pout, eyes swimming with tears.

Even if the woman felt righteous in her anger, the least she could have done was not yell in front of the pup. Tae promises herself right then and there, that she'll never raise her voice in front of the pack's pups, not in anger.

The book has stayed on the counter at the front. Pink and gold and treacherous. Tae hopes that if anything, the pup finds it and reads the ending one day. Stories have a way of finding us, even when the world makes us let them go.

Now in the back room behind the check-out counter. Tae’s boss levels her with an expectant look, the kind that people give when they don’t want to be transphobic not really- it’s just so hard for them not to, so learned. Tae is the nail that sticks up. It’s bullshit really. Tae can tell it's bullshit before she opens her mouth.

“Really? He asked for Cinderella?”

“Yes.” Tae’s biting tone is an alpha’s tone, not a man’s, and yet she knows how it sounds.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m not lying.” Is Tae supposed to only help some children find the books they want? Is she supposed to look at them and make her best guess if they’ve got homophobic parents and skip them over? It’s not her fault that the sweet sweet pup’s parent was a bigot.

“I can’t help but feel like- you’ve got a personal agenda-“

"Charlie-" the district manager cautions.

Tae can’t stop herself from snapping, alpha anger sparking with the intent to burn. “Little boys should be allowed to read Cinderella if they want to” Rats and all. Her hands are shaking, and it isn’t missed by them. The room smells thick with Tae’s spicy cinnamon anger.

The district manager sets her hand on Tae's shoulder, and her anger ebbs just a little. “I think maybe you should go home a little early today, just to cool off. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Tae doesn’t want to go home early, Tae doesn’t want to go home at all as she packs up her books. Her bag lighter than usual, absent of the stories that she wants to take home. For once there aren’t any that she wants to read.

She walks to the train station because Jimin won’t be off work for another 2 hours and that’s when he’d usually pick her up, the last three days he’s gotten her flowers too; white roses the first day, pink the second, and red the third. She sends him a text.

Tae <3 (1:48): I left work early today, you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll get an Uber home.

Mini-alpha (1:49):!!!!!

Mini-alpha (1:49): What happened? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I can leave now.

Tae sighs, looking down at her phone while she waits for the crosswalk light to come on. Red still, green in a few seconds, she only has to wait. She can practically feel Jimin's nervous energy through the phone. it's a wonder he doesn't immediately call her.

It makes her soft. It isn't in Jimin's nature to give any of his lovers any space but he always makes an effort when it comes to her.

Tae <3 (1:53): No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you when you get home.

Tae doesn’t want to talk to Jimin about transphobia again. At least not yet. It’s too much energy. It’s not that Tae doesn’t want to make what happened during Namjoon’s rut better. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about it- it’s just that there’s nothing to talk about, the explanation of his actions are such a burden for Tae to bear. And Tae trusts that Jimin’s heart is in the right place even if he makes mistakes. And even telling Jimin off, yelling at him, wouldn’t change it.

Either one day Tae will not have to deal with bigoted parents, either one day she’ll pass and won’t have to worry, or she'll always be in this awkward middle ground.

Trans people are like toupees, you only notice them when there’s something off, something a little misplaced about them. Tae fears that most of all. Femininity, as much as she wants it, as much as it's hers to take, what if it won't ever fit right? What if she never passes?

Tae loves her job at the library, it’s the perfect mix of boring and safe and easy even if it doesn’t pay enough. But even as she's gained things like skirts and puffy sleeves, she's exchanged them for days like today. Really, the library was her favorite place before today and now, every step away from it makes her feel a little lighter. She's not even angry anymore, just exhausted mentally.

Tae decides to walk home at least she’s in her most conservative channel flats, they could use a little bit more wear and love and Tae’s thoughts are still too sharp. She dulls them to a palatable edge that all falls apart when she gets home.

You’re there, thank fucking god you’re always there when she gets home. You’ll always be Tae’s comfort person.

Tae opens the door with a creek and push of cold air, you're saying something to Yoongi turning with a toss of your hair, eyes brightening when you see her before you've even said her name.

You look a little healthier today, with a little bit more of a rosy glow to your cheeks and a healthy brightness to your eyes, not all glassy.

"Tae! You're home early!"

Tae will never stop being proud of how hard you try, and will never stop being a bit envious either because Tae-

Tae looks at you and wilts, bag flopping onto the floor, and predictably burst into tears.

"Oh- oh Tae."

"Baby girl-"

You and Yoongi are just about the best security blanket a packmate could ask for. You're so good as you pull her down to your level so you can kiss away her tears, maneuvering her like a perfect team onto the couch. Yoongi's strong hands slide off her shoes. Yoongi's fingers digging into her sore heel as you kiss away her every tear.

A substantial amount of babying and a Sos packmate in distress text later, and Tae is reclining across a freshly fluffed nest, the muscles in her body relaxed. The blisters on the back of her feet are bandaged and kissed. Every inch of her body is too.

You don't talk about it until after the pack's facemasks are finished, and hobi's clear coat has dried over the tiny nail sticker that you left. a small bumblebee.

Your skin smells sweet after a long long bath full of fancy bath bombs. Jinnie had also rubbed oil onto her freshly shaven legs. You helped, dragging it along oh so carefully to not nick her skin. Ending each pass with a kiss to her ankle and then upper thigh.

Tae’s head is in your lap now, cheek pressed against your (slightly chubbier) thighs. Her sniffles the background music as Tae gives her final recap of what happened.

Your nose gets a wrinkle in it when you go cross. "There's so much meanness to the world, I hate how people have to add to it."

Jimin’s anger leaves an undercurrent in the air, dragging the other alphas along, Hobi’s hands are strong where they dig into Tae’s shoulders, belly down in the nest while you play with her hair, braiding it back and forth. The attention makes her feel a little tingly.

“Do you know what her name was? Did you get a look at her car-“ Jimin asks, nearly barking. The library has cameras. Jimin knows it does.

Jin sets a hand on the back of his neck, a scruff threatening. “Down pup. Tae doesn’t need you to track them down.” Jimin’s teeth look particularly sharp in the light. For a face so soft he has quite the mouth on him.

“They made her sad,” he growls, but it's softer, more pointed as he crouches over her.

Namjoon’s quiet voice unlocks the whole world's worries, massaging gently down the column of Tae’s delicate neck, rough hands, worn tender touching her regardless. Namjoon is rarely ever so pointed, but it's logical, from an alpha's perspective, Tae knows what he hints.

"I think that if your bosses aren't going to protect you from people like that, then I want you to leave your job." Jin gives him a look like, 'Now you know where I'm coming from' but Tae's the important packmate right now.

Tae rolls Namjoon's words around her tongue, her hand loosely twined with his. Namjoon has the steadiest hands out of everyone in the pack and a few minutes ago he repurposed his surgery skills to do her nails. Took off the chipped red and re-did them because Namjoon knows she feels best when her claws are polished. He checks them now. Tapping them lightly to not smudge them.

It's a girl's night, the first girl's night you've ever had with the whole pack. Tae's face is still glossy from the face mask.

“I don’t think I want to quit; I don’t think that would help at all that’s not going to like- solve the world and all its issues.”

“No, but- if it’s making you more sad than happy. Then maybe it’s worth considering.”

Tae knows Namjoon’s not saying that she doesn’t make enough to affect the pack's finances, but that's still the truth. Hobi pulls himself along her other side and you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Hobi presses a kiss to Tae's temple, “All you want to do is write every day anyways, and we just want you to be happy,” 6 heads nod their agreement.

Hobi isn't wrong; The last four weekends in a row Tae has woken up several hours earlier than the pack would usually stir from morning cuddles, just to get a few hours of uninterrupted writing done. She’s also spent nearly every night in her library room, staying up late after the pack has retired upstairs until one of you comes down and wrangles her upstairs. The pack's prettiest alpha needs her beauty sleep.

But is it enough to count on? Is it worth quitting her job over?

You duck down low, kissing the same spot Hobi did, your lips touching just a Tae away. a heavy breath wooshes out of her chest. "Yeah why wouldn't we want you to quit? If you're always here then I can always do this."

Your kiss is gentle, and it tastes like belonging more than Tae would ever be able to write, to describe. A love that makes you feel like you belong is a rare thing. And Tae's hand goes up to tangle in your hair, keeping you there for just a shared breath longer.

The next breath tastes a bit like freedom. It's scary to be free.

(But Tae leaves her 2 weeks' notice on her boss’s desk before the end of the next work day, and she doesn't feel bad about it one bit).

~-~

(1 year prior)

Maybe the truth is that the reason why you don’t feel you deserve agency is because you know what your agency looks like. The choices you’re willing to make when it comes down to it.

The secrets you tell and the lies you have buried deep in your pocket like one of Hobi’s found things. Something you can’t get rid of and cast back into the ocean. No matter how hard you try. There is something about murder that sticks, that stays no matter how many times you try to wash your hands of it.

It's not guilt, because you don't feel guilty for what you had to do.

Being backed into a corner can make someone do a whole hell of alot of monstrous things. And back then Life was monotonous. Back then there was Anguish without change.

Your life went like this: Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Meet up with Hyejin. Make poison. Make pastries. Go to the Don’s house. Feed it to them. Listen to Moonbyul tell you to wait. Go home. Get beaten again and again. Get raped every night. On and on and on.

Clean up your blood from the tiles. Clean it from the carpet. Hydrogen peroxide and not bleach. Cover the bruises up with color corrector first before you put concealer over them.

Smile and tell everyone that your husband and you are perfectly happy. There will be a pup on the way soon enough, I'm so lucky to have someone who supports me, and I'm so lucky to have a love like this.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Go to sleep and don't cry because then he'll beat you for keeping him awake.

In the darkness that curls around you. Blood going tacky between your legs, you start to dream of wicked sweet things.

What you've been through would be enough to make anyone go crazy, Enough to make anyone consider drastic action. Enough to make anyone consider murder.

Enough for you to slide a pair of small syringes off of Moonbyul’s night desk and a small packet of arsenic too. You know how to make a simple syrup. You know how to mix in arsenic to it, how to make it liquid soluble without breathing it in.

You make it in the fine china and break it after so that you can throw it out without worrying. You get a beating for it but you hardly feel it when Geumjae drags you across the floor by your hair. It hardly breaks your heart when he steps on your ribcage with the intent to break bones because you know what you have to do.

After, with your own blood on your teeth, you make sure to leave it in the bottom of the trash, and ask the cleaning staff not to take it out yet. They're supposed to find it.

You don't care if you die, you just want to make sure the necessary villains are punished. When it comes to blame the person who is most to blame is you anyway. You are simply numb to pain, numb to your own anguish. Numb to the idea of your own death too. Geumjae's already killed you in every way that matters.

Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite; give a girl an enemy and she'll do dangerous things.

Your meetings with the Don and beta always go the same; gossip, and greetings. Sometimes when you come bearing bruises, they tell you to wait just a little longer.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Just give it time for his temper to settle. Once you're mated it will get better.

Even Moonbyul and Hyejin tell you that planning the perfect crime takes time. That you'll be saved if you only wait. Help is coming.

Bullshit.

You’re tired of waiting for him to kill you, you're tired of waiting to die. You're smarter than all of them because you know exactly how to get everything you want and you're willing to do anything to get it.

The next time Moonbyul and Hyejin take you to the Don and Beta’s house under the guise of afternoon tea, you are prepared for war and dressed with revenge in mind. Your white dress knotted at the shoulders falling in a heavenly sheet, like an avenging angel, neither pious nor sinful.

You are a force of nature and nature does not ask when it takes lives.

What’s worse; the people that enable the abusers or the abusers themselves? Who is more to blame for the pain caused?

You are no longer hiding and you won't let them hide this time. The bruise on your cheek is purple and mottled, the rings of bruises on your wrists from his hands while he held you down.

When you smiled at Geumjae over breakfast this morning, there was only one thought in your mind.

You’re next.

Your agency looks like this; elegantly done hair your skirt a little short for fall. A basket of arsenic-backed goods in a basket as is usual. Fluffy pink cupcakes with the perfect Swiss meringue buttercream in little spirals.

A gentle smile at the beta when she opens her doors for you, letting the monster in, because you’ve been over enough times that she trusts you. You suppose that's your doing too, you've fooled her into thinking you're just another idiot girl who decided to marry rich and didn't bother to consider the strings attached. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you bare your teeth when you smile.

Hyejin has helped on that front; over the past few months, she has taught you exactly the kind of conversation that the beta likes- the useless conversations about family drama, the small little bits that you let through about your husband’s opinion on which pup is marrying whom, which alpha is good or bad for the packs near dozen omega pups that aren’t mated yet. Which alphas are likely to be a liability? This kind of gossip is all information and strategy.

You might have lied in your call to her and told her you were fearful of one of the younger ones- and a conversation you’d happened to witness on a street corner, a shadowy figure that looked a little too severe not to be the authorities. Of course, these kinds of things have to be handled with discretion and ginseng tea.

The Don does not bother to turn down the TV when you walk in, sitting vulnerable in his recliner with his feet up. It doesn’t appear that he has any sort of inclination or plans to interact with you when you sit here at his kitchen table and talk. Instead, he lounges and watches his sports, loud because his hearing is so bad, nearly deafening.

It’s good. hopefully anyone nearby will not overhear.

You hope that if this goes south before you have a chance to confess that they find the letter you wrote at home; the one that says your husband is the one that put you up to this.

You know that the pack’s retribution will be swift, that any sort of alibi he has will be null and void with the evidence you’ve been leaving. A little trail of breadcrumbs that leads right into a pretty little grave for your husband. Even if you won't be around to see it.

You're already a friend of pain. You already find comfort in it. If they kill you (which they will) then at least it will finally be over.

You wait until the moment you know is coming, when the Don looks over his shoulder at you and comands “Be a dear and bring me one.”

You put one of your artfully created confections on a pretty gold-rimed plate and walk to his side, you lean over to put it in his lap as he indicates. the same way he does every time you come over with sweets.

The lingering hand on your ass is hardly abnormal. behind you the beta's tea cup clinks as she sets her tea down and says nothing. even though you know she notices.

He’s so busy coping a feel he doesn’t notice your other hand, going to the syringe duck taped to your thigh.

It happens quicker than the Don can blink. The most powerful man in the underworld can't be bothered to protect his life for a pretty little piece of ass. You smile down at him, and his hand squeezes the round apple of your behind.

His hand is still on your ass when you whip your arm around with as much force as you can and drive the syringe and plunger into his neck.

You must have hit something in his neck because he barely has a second to splutter before he’s going still and quiet. Mouth falling horrifyingly slack. His breath rattles and his eyes dart as his whole body is paralyzed near instantly, in the time it takes for his blood to circulate.

Two paces, swing, plunge.

The beta barely has a second to scream or stand to attack you. You are so much younger than they are. Your body might be fragile and frail but It’s still stronger than hers. Her brief scream is easily drowned out by the scratch of the TV.

She ends up on the floor, the icing on the cupcakes sticky as she falls into half of them, tossed onto the floor by your brief tussle as you straddle her struggling form. Her pushing gets weaker and weaker and she sobs.

It doesn’t surprise you when you see the black tracery of a dying mating mark itching up her skin.

One thing that the family had always been oh so careful of was to talk only in their mother tongue around you. Secrets are best kept when they’re spoken in foreign tongues. It was a way to isolate you. To make them speak English for you to understand felt like a beholden request. At one point It was a point of insecurity for you, always left out of the loop, always relying on your husband to keep you in the know.

You bend over her as her pushing gets weaker and weaker, the arsenic doing its job, causing numbness and the tingling of extremities before it causes paralysis and then coma and death. Your hair falls in a sheet over the beta’s face.

You’ve studied much over the last few months. Enough that you lean in close over her and speak your words in perfect Korean.

“You look so angry,” you croon softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Spittle froths at her mouth as she breathes heavily. “You shouldn’t- if you want someone to blame you only need to look in the mirror.”

You lean in close until your lips brush her ear, “it's your fault you see- you're the one who lied" you mimic her voice, making it scratchy, "'just wait a little longer, it will be better for the family if you stay quiet." you laugh, "as if that where true, the only person it benefits is you. You where ready to let him hurt me and kill me if i just stayed quiet."

You wipe away a bit of spit from her lower lip, "You always told me how it was your duty to protect the family- but you only serve yourself. If you'd have done something, if you'd have helped me I wouldn't have had to do this. You just wanted me to shut up and die quietly.”

You switch back to English, “Well now it’s your turn.”

You watch her tongue go numb, paralyzed, but the poison hasn’t advanced far enough for her not to speak.

“Fucking- worthless bitch.”

You laugh and stand brushing some crumbs from your skirt. She’s already too weak to move, to shout, or fight you. You watch the light start to leave her eyes, winking out so slowly, like a dying star. But she still looks so pissed.

“You don’t have a right to be angry, you killed me first. You can’t blame me for fighting back.”

She gives her last breath and the TV plays on. Your shoe ticks her hand, her fingers twitching weakly. You watch as she gasps her last breath, a small smile on your face.

You sit at the table and turn the TV down. You wait a few minutes, but it quickly becomes an hour. You have yourself a nice little treat while you watch, turning the channel to a food network while you eat.

You really are a fantastic cook. The crumb on this batch is so nice you don’t even taste the metallic tang of poison. You eat through one, and then another, until the whole basket is empty.

Before you know it there is a concerned knock at the door. The lock clicks and turns when you answer it.

When Moonbyul opens the door, you laugh at the expression on her face. Licking the frosting from your lips. Even that is delicious.

She takes in their bodies, crumpled on the floor the frosting on your cheeks. The evidence. Both of them dying. A violence you cannot undo.

Her voice is somber. “Oh Pup, what have you done?”

~-~

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Notes:

this chapter is a very classic bily chapter, in the fact that there is a fuck ton of fluff and then bang the mafia bits just take you out. we needed to get back into the mafia bits of the story sooner rather than later though 💀

i felt like i was going a little too over the top with certain bits of puptalk in this chapter, but i really wanted to use it to show that like yeah- the pack has been treating her alot more gently since her breakdown, they've been babbying the fuck out of her, even if we don't get to see it :(

Hobi's texts are so???? Fucking cute?? He's so hopeless my god he wants to make her feel loved without actually saying it and i hope you read them and just go "oh, you're an idiot."

I have this whole elaborate backstory to how wonho's gym works with monthly subscriptions to classes where people can decide how many classes they want to take a week, ie gym dues for facilities and then discounted classes on top if they pay for it before hand, with several tiers.

this chapter almost feels clerical- this is definitely more of a set up chapter- where i needed to check off a lot of boxes, like hobi's courting present- before we go any further into the story. things are going to start amping up in terms of stakes pretty quickly.

That one part, where hobi is kinda malfunctioning after the m/c touches his cheek and everyone teases him feels the most representative of the pack as a whole. like that part where they're all replying- feels very real. i struggle a little to capture a sense of domesticity in concise ways, but i think this part is very tidy.

That little touch with hobi- where he touches her wrist and her finger, that touch has so much weight to it, i personally think the whole pack was tasting the sexual tension on the air, can you guys feel it too or is it all in my head?

idk why yoongi calling tae babygirl makes me so flustered but it does đŸ„”

i really wanted to work calling tae mommy into the chapter someway but tbh this chapter felt complex enough without it.

there is like- one plot hole in this whole story, and that is in the first chapter of the story when yoongi gets a call the person on the other line says "grandfather is dying." implying that his death wasn't instantaneous like this is shown to be. however, in my mind- the injections don't actually kill the don and beta but plunge them into a coma that they never wake up from- is this an actual possibility with arsenic poisoning- NO IT ISN'T lol, you're just going to have to suspend your disbelief for me.

the m/c has always been the person who killed the don and the beta- i've known this since like...maybe the 4th chapter? it wasn't in the og og plan for the story but almost everything in bily has been hammered out since then. and tbh you already knew she killed them just not that it was this violent! does this count as a secret???? idk! maybe!!!

she's a little murder baby just like minnie <3


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1 year ago

💜💜💜

So What? | MYG | Masterlist

So What? | MYG | Masterlist

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader 

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

Total WC: 31473

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @prwprwprwpr @bontensbabygirl @codeinebelle @ldysmfrst @idkjustlovingbts @popcatx0 @yoonjinsgirl @marblemoonstones

So What? | MYG | Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

🐈‍⬛


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