Before I Leave You (Pt.72)

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Before I Leave You (Pt.72)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you get punished alongside hobi for your indiscretions in public.

Tags: mention of getting arrested, tense situations, implied non-consentual nudity, light angst, d/s, Dom! jin, Breif Daddy! jinnie, Dom! Namjoon, Dom! Jimin, Sub! m/c, Sub! Hobi, Group sex, gangbang, humiliation kink, praise kink, puppy space! hobi, omegaspace! m/c, crawling, Collars, fingering, edging, orgasam denial, orgasam control, overstimulation, painplay, brief cock and ball torture (hobi gets his cock flicked a few times really its very tame), shoe riding, Exhibitionism, Squirting, wrestle-fucking, cum marking, cum swapping, marking kink, mc gets treated like a little cumdump but she's very happy about it, size kink, pussy spanking, breeding benches. Shibari, ropes, dacryphilia, breeding kink, oral! f receiving, hole checks, biting, slight implied sub drop but it's nothing serious.

W/c: 16.8k+

A/n: you know what... this is excessive, i'm not even going to pretend that it's NOT excessive. no smut needs to be this long but! oh well!!

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

“When I saw the car, I thought that they might have been some of those Gang kids from downstate. Obviously, I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

Namjoon has his arms crossed on the front porch, eyes flashing disapprovingly between you and Hobi standing with hunched shoulders and rancid scents between the two officers. Large and threatening, their black uniforms and neat little badges glint in the porch's light. Their guns at their side in their holsters that stay there (thankfully) their handcuffs that glisten like the silver sliver of the moon that hangs above the trees.

Namjoon crosses his arms and stares them down. “They’re usually very well behaved, I truly don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

The deference in Namjoon's voice is forced, but the disappointment isn't.

Don’t they have something better to do than this? Even traffic stops. Jin must be thinking. Hovering behind Namjoon’s shoulder in his striped robe, a sight that you don’t like- because no one besides the pack should get to see Jin in all of his fluffy cheeked and matching pajama glory. It’s not the 18th century and it’s not improper for an omega to be seen in their nesting clothes anymore- but still, the instinct to dart across the porch and hide him sort of from view is not a distant desire.

Hoseok’s hands hover, not reaching out to grab yours, because he's not sure that he's allowed. After being yanked out of the confines of his Lamborghini the hour before. He's right to be hesitant about touching you.

The last hour or so of your life has been a scary one, watching Hobi get yanked out of the car- a taser- not a gun- drawn in his direction. Freezing where you sat, unclothed. A strange man looking down at you- thanking your lucky stars that you'd had enough time to pull your underwear on at least- that you'd still been wearing your sweatshirt. Not entirely nude just partially.

"At least let her get dressed." He'd snapped, guarding their line of sight from him to you. Every instinct in him absolutely turned feral. He's still a little shifty, a little too close to growling and getting you in even more trouble than you already are.

namjoon's eyes are dark but assured. if anyone could talk his way out of a ticket for public indecency- it would be Namjoon. You’re a little non-plussed, less shy than Hobi though you would be about being seen in a state of semi-undress by two strange alphas and Hoseok doesn’t like that. That you’d been silent, that you hadn’t hidden behind him the same way Jin’s doing.

He doesn't know where the Lambo will end up but Hoseok doesn't care, doesn't care at all. It will probably be sent to an impound lot or maybe put up for auction. But a look at Jin's face says that he won't let any of this slide. Jin knows the law. Folds his arms carefully over his chest.

“Our pups are well behaved, thank you for returning them to us.”

A pretty omega is a special kind of good luck- a thing you’d always like to have in your corner if you can help it. The officers are disarmed by your pretty pack omega, Jin does not bat his eyelashes at them but it’s almost like he is because the alpha's scent next to you swells prideful in the tepid night air- like apples, but artificial not like candy but cough syrup.

You almost want to scoff, as if.

Hoseok wants to gnash his teeth. How dare he- projecting his scent here- in front of the den of all places. It's so rude. Hobi is surprised that no one has said anything.

Namjoon's jaw rolls, and you can tell that he wants too.

Alphas after a knotting are a volatile thing. The sound of Hoseok gnashing his teeth joins the white noise of having other people close, of being here. Between two men with guns. You don't like it, your instincts chaffing, screaming in your ear to get away- to get safe, to go to the nest upstairs, even if you would never risk taking the scent of strangers into your most intimate place.

Namjoon’s eyes flash, first to your face and then to the officers. And you know that he knows that you're on the edge of it, that you're one bad word away from bursting into tears. Every bone of his body is ramrod straight, Namjoon is holding himself back.

Not as hard as Hobi is, he’s shaking like a leaf next to you.

The other police officer (the one who has his scent mostly under control and looks younger than you) gulps. Uncomfortable with the level of pungent pheromones that Namjoon is putting out right now. Namjoon's pack alpha scent is stinky and unabated, with stiff liquor and angry sour coffee (you’d rather smell him than the sour apple scent).

All you want to do is close the two feet between the two of you and sink behind him but instead, you’re forced to stay here. A wide- unfamiliar hand on your shoulder keeps you in place.

The fact that the police officers are bold enough to touch you right now tells you everything you need to know about the danger of the situation; touching another alpha's omega is already sort of rude. Touching another omega who's just been knotted in front of two of their alphas and their pack omega? You're surprised Namjoon didn't come out the door swinging.  

You're pretty sure you can feel Hobi's cum dripping out of your hole, you have to stand carefully to keep it from leaking out. You squirm uncomfortably. Hoping that no one can smell it.

The silence between the alphas hovers threateningly, and you see Namjoon's nostrils flare.

“Listen- we could easily book them both for public indecency, but it’s not the summer yet, and we understand you have a lot of packmates, Mr. erm-“

“Kim Namjoon, Doctor Kim Namjoon.”

It helps that Namjoon’s still in his suit. Three pieces and dark blue that flatters his skin tone and an early tan that he has because Jungkook had dragged him out for a run on the last warm day you had. He's the picture of perfect tailoring and everything that a pack alpha should be.

He had a meeting with the board of directors today- you remember watching him get ready this morning, coiffing his hair back away from his face. Making sure he looked presentable.

Namjoon had his resignation meeting today- and broke the news to the hospital board that he was looking to retire. Maybe not forever- but at least for the foreseeable future. Maybe…until after the pack had pups even.

He's been talking about more and more recently, even though it's not really up to him. Even though it's not really up to you either- given how your heats have stalled. Jin is the only omega who is willing to entertain those conversations that happen in the late night honey light often when the two of them are brought low and sweet and so in love it takes your breath away a little.

The way the two of them look when it's just them, cuddled on the couch or the dining room table or in the bathroom elbow to elbow. And Namjoon's hands will skim Jin's stomach almost in worry, in warming. Like Namjoon's hopes are too big not to pretend already. Playing with each other's hands and whispering sweet nothings and sweeter promises.

"Do you think they'd have your eyes?" "I don't care, but I hope they have your dimples."

Namjoon will ask to mate Jin any day now, the second any danger fades. You know it as surely as you know that you and Hoseok are going to get matching tattoos the next free day you have to.

But the danger has not faded at all tonight, no, the danger is here on either side of you and Hobi. On your porch. On your front doorstep. sweat bleeds down the back of your neck. You think of the body that's no longer downstairs, and the spackled-over holes in the plaster.

You wish you knew how his meeting went. If it went poorly or not- there is nothing in his expression that gives it away, not the Glasses on the edge of his nose, barely shielding the officers from his glower or his suit still buttoned.

The officers take Namjoon’s glare to heart, probably thinking that namjoon's angry at both you and Hobi and not from the general disdain Namjoon has for police officers.

“When we found out that they were registered to a pack we figured- you understand, of course. We prefer to leave things like this up to pack alphas. We understand the delicacy of these abnormal family structures.”

Namjoon looks at you and tips his chin down slightly, imperceptibly.

You dart across the distance, folding yourself against his shoulder. But Namjoon doesn’t leave you there, pushing you gently behind his shoulder and into Jin's waiting arms. You cling to Jin’s front, side by side with Hobi too who followed Namjoon's wordless command.

He glances back at the officers and starts to growl. Namjoon’s sharp voice cuts off the sound. Louder- to block it out. “Thank you for returning them to me. I’ll handle it. Have a good night.”

Namjoon has a hand on the back of your and Hobi's neck, threatening a scruff if you don't behave, guiding you into the house. And you know that touch sets the police down and satisfied.

A pack alpha like that- I'd rather take a night in a cell you hear them whisper as they turn, heavy booths thudding down the steps. Hoseok pauses, a louder- deeper growl sparking to life in his chest like rolling thunder. How dare they- how dare they judge Namjoon-

Seokjin's arm tightens around Hobi’s waist cutting off the sound.

Jimin is there in the doorway as Namjoon and Jin muscle you through. Staying hidden. Probably because Namjoon and Jin doubted that he could be civil during a time like this. He’s jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, wound up by the presence of the police. The officers flash their lights once and only once as they pull away from your house. Jimin watches as he pulls down the blinds.

The floorboards creek under your feet as you sway. There are only two lights lit on the ground floor. The lamp by the couch and the one by the coffee pot. Both yellow, both honey. And it sends the 5 of you into dulcet chiaroscuro. Namjoon's face is all shadows and honey as his lip lifts in a snarl and he scrubs a hand over his cheeks. trying to get a handle on his instincts before he lashes out.

Your heart thumps hard in your chest as you watch him and he watches you.

You clear your throat, and your voice comes out tight, hissing. "Where's Tae and Yoongi and Jungkookie?" You ask him, anxiety bleeding down the back of your neck. No one answers your question. No one has any reaction and it’s like you haven’t spoken at all.

Namjoon is a man on a mission, pulls you into the center of the room and unzips your sweatshirt and strips it off of you efficiently. Checking for marks on your arms, your throat, the nape of your neck- looking. But he finds no evidence of hurt or impropriety. Not even a fucking hickey.

He drops to his knees to check your stomach- some alpha part of him that can’t avoid the temptation- itching and fighting to get out as he lifts the hem of your shirt. Hands circle your hips, checking for bruises, checking your knees, your hips, and your calves. Checking for anything.

He looks up at you from the floor, hands gripping the back of your knees.

“Did they touch you pup?”

Hobi shifts uneasily from foot to foot. "I was watching her the whole time-"

“No. Alpha-”

Jimin’s eyes flash in the darkness, “thought you were going to punch them hyung.” But even though he teases, Jimin’s scent is still sour, everyone’s is.

“Would have,” Namjoon grits out. It takes a special sort of devotion to make a gentle man violent. But you’ve never been gladder for Namjoon’s gentleness as you are now.

It rushes over you- everything that’s happened; Watching Hobi get yanked from the car by his shoulder and pushed up against the side of the car. Having to pull on your pants in the dark parking lot with a flashlight on you and some man behind it. Watched. Hunted.

A knot builds in your chest, and you don’t cry- you won’t cry but-

Jin’s hands brush your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your shoulders. “You’re gonna be alright pup- it’s alright-“

Your lower lips quivers. “Ask me my color.”

Namjoon is still on his knees below you and jolts at hearing your words. Jaw rolling as he looks up at you and chews through them. Both Jimin and Hobi's faces jerk in your direction, eyes wide. Nervous. jin's eyelashes just flutter, a purr building in his chest. soothing your fried and anxious scent.

“Ask me Jin- please-” Your voice cracks, wobbles.

Jin’s tentative, and behind him you see Jimin's gaze anxiously darting between the pack alpha and omega.

But you're trembling there, so unmoored, and all you want is someone to tell you how to feel, what to do, what to say, and how to sit. Everything. You want someone to decide what you need for you, to make your choices for you.

Jin eyes you, flickering down to your heaving chest as he pets gently over your collarbones with the back of his hand. Shushing you while he thinks. Is this what you’re asking for- what you need? Do you really need a scene from them right now? Do you really want to submit after something like that?

Yes, in any way you’ll let me. I just need to stop thinking about what just happened. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me tell you. Don’t make me relive it. I just want to forget. Can you make me stop thinking? Can you fuck it out of me?

Jin's thumb hovers on your lower lip, like he needs to feel as well as hear you say it. “What’s your color pup?”

“Green” your voice breaks, and Jin pauses. he looks at you for a singular long moment and then down at Namjoon.

Namjoon’s hands run down the front of your thighs once more to your knees and then back up again before he pops back up onto his feet. Towering over you and turning your hands over and over again in his. The marks that crisscross your palms look pink and threatening. But Namjoon knows that they haven’t bothered you in weeks.

Namjoon moves from you to Hobi, going not for his hands but to the hem of his shirt. Stripping it off of him, Hobi puts his arms up for him, obedient. His hair fluffy when he comes out the other side.

Namjoon presses the shirt to his nose and although it’s dry from your slick and squirt now- you blush, aware of what he must be able to scent on it. Of what Namjoon must be able to scent on both of you. The evidence of your indiscretion and the misery that followed

The pack alpha’s coffee scent spikes wildly, thick and musky- dizzying, making you teeter to the point where Jimin rests a hand on your elbow to steady you.

Hobi's arms rise with goosebumps as Namjoon palms him blatantly between his legs. Feeling for his cock, feeling for a still inflated knot. finding it sweet and heavy and lonely between his thighs. Hobi’s lower lash line is wet but his whole body jerks into Namjoon's hand as he gasps. But he stays mostly still at Namjoon's inspection.

“Green,” he says before Namjoon even has to open his mouth.

"Such a good pup, saying it before he's even asked. how eager, how needy." Jin praises, still petting over your collarbones, eyeing your throat with a keen light in his eyes that you haven't seen in months. Namjoon seems to have the same idea. Stares hobi down before jerking his head and looking at Jimin, standing at the ready, eager to be of use.

"Go get their collars. Please Minnie." It's the only time Namjoon will ask so nicely for something tonight. Hobi lets out a belated whine that cuts off at Namjoon's look, "settle." Namjoons shoulders straighten and he's still holding Hobi's cock, staring into his eyes until Hobi bears his throat with another noise, a pupish whine.

You don't know if you've ever heard Hobi sound like that. You wonder if you sound like that- when you're under Namjoon's thumb. There is nothing in his face left of the boy who teased you until you were shaking a few short hours ago. But somehow you still can't tear your eyes away from them.

Maybe Hobi needs this just as much as you do, which is why he's letting it happen.

Namjoon is so big compared to Hobi, at least a head taller and so much wider. He's such a big alpha. Hobi knows it too- He grits his teeth. Bares them at the pack alpha in challenge. An invitation if you’ve ever seen one, Namjoon just scoffs at the show of aggression.

"If you do not settle puppy, Alpha will make you and you will not like it."

Hoseok just growls again, louder.

They stand off like that, Namjoon’s jaw rolls and You stand there, mindful not to move, as Jin shuts the blinds and Namjoon lets go of Hobi roughly and then takes off his dark blue suit jacket, folding it gently over the back of the couch. Every movement is smooth and measured. He might be the angriest you've ever seen him, but Namjoon is still taking pains not to spook you.

Namjoon moves in your direction and Hobi growls. A real growl this time a warning.

Namjoon just looks at him and grins, bearing his teeth, a little feral. "Alright- if that's how you want to play it pup then so be it. You need to remember who you belong to- who you both belong to."

Namjoon undoes his cufflinks, letting them fall to the floor with a metallic pop. His eyes are dark and hot on you. "To answer your question pup- a certain photo made Jungkook too riled up to wait. They're taking care of him upstairs. He wanted to make sure the nest was warm for you- said you’d need it with how angry we were."

You swallow, silent for a moment- turning to Jimin, reappearing in the doorway, "you didn't-"

Jimin shakes his head, blonde hair flopping eyes dark. He's got both your collars in his hands. They look a bit more delicate than you remember. Hoseok's red and yours pink. "Wanted to make sure you were both alright."

You swallow and turn back to Namjoon. It's a real struggle not to burst into tears. "Tae asked me to wait up with you, to help-" he cuts himself off with a look at namjoons face.

you swallow through a thick lump in your throat.

As the pack's subs- it's harder for them to let you and Hobi play on your own without worrying and checking. On a good day this would have resulted in something similar, less rough- but something similar. And today has not been a good day- not by a long shot.

It’s no secret that both of you need a guiding hand. A guiding hand that you both haven't gotten or had in the last few months but one that you’ve needed. Submissive and packmate neglect isn't something that Namjoon takes lightly.

Namjoon’s hand directs your chin up so that you have to look him in the eyes.

“Riling us up is all fun and good- but I do trust you to be safe pup- not only with yourselves- but with us too.” You can hardly keep Namjoon’s gaze with the disappointment evident in his voice, the shame in your chest simmering. Not because he’s wrong and you don’t deserve this scolding, but because you know he’s very very right.  

His voice rises in pitch, his anger sparking from flares to a controlled burn. “involving the police when things have finally calmed down- to do something that stupid out of your need for some teenage rebellion. Do you know what might happen? What might happen to all of us if someone finds out-"

Namjoon doesn’t raise his voice, never. Not in anger and not in anguish but he gets close now. Voice rising both in pitch and tone. Cutting himself off before he truly shouts at you.

He strokes down your cheek lovingly, gently after he gets a handle on his tone.

“I know you are not dumb; I know you’re not stupid- but maybe I’ve been underestimating the amount of guidance you both need.” Namjoon pets your cheek with a finger, gentle. a little incredulous, like he seriously can't believe it, like he doesn't know- "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Hobi and I- we were just- we just wanted to have fun-"

"You could have done it in the fucking house-" Namjoon bites out.

"No, no I couldn't have." You are stubborn for once, unflinching. It's times like this that you’re always the most honest. When you’re so brought down that you have no choice but to be.

Your voice rises, even though you don’t want it to.

"This place is so stuffy with guilt these days that I can't even breathe Namjoon, I can't breathe without wondering who is mad at me and for what- Yoongi-" You slip, looking down and away, looking at Hobi who looks like he might cry too. "I can't- I can't come to you with this because you're still angry at me- I know you're still angry at me-"

Namjoon is too stricken to speak, too stricken to do much more than clutch at you.

"Asking for a punishment is easier, asking for a punishment is easier because at least I know you won't give me something that you don't want-"

You know better than most that respecting people's boundaries means you won't always get what you need. And to have Namjoon disregard that when you know that he values boundaries as much as you do-

You won't be like them. Like Moonbyul or Geumjae or any past lovers that might have traipsed over boundaries and justified it by calling it a need. You won't have Namjoon disregard that either. To call what you and Hobi did a mistake and a 'should have' when it's so much more than that.

It's Hobi who speaks, imploringly "Alpha."

Namjoon turns to Hobi, “You are one of my alpha’s," he turns back to you "My omega, you are mine.” Namjoon’s voice goes honey-soft when he says it, and a flush rises high on Hobi’s cheeks.

“My anger is not something I want to matter as much as your needs. I want you to feel that I love you- always. And this is how I show it, if you felt you couldn't come to me just because-" Namjoon's voice is thick with emotion and he closes his eyes, stealing himself Namjoon's teeth dig into his lower lip, glancing back at Hobi.

"I expect you to know when to stop and when keep going. If you do not understand the line between agency and safety, the line between my anger and my love for you, I will need to show you again.”

There is red leather in Jin's hands, shiny in the darkness. He’s got yours as well- small and pink and delicate looking next to Hobi’s classic collar. You’ve almost forgotten what it’s looked like- it’s been so long since the pack has used it on you. Jin does not move to fasten it around Hobi’s neck yet. Just perches on the arm of the couch.

“Color?” He asks again, because he can’t not double-check after an outburst like that. Your bell tinkles in his hands as he turns it over. You almost flinch at the sound of it, almost.

Hobi’s a little breathless, chest heaving, instincts clearly running wild. “Green”

it takes you a second longer. They wait, Jimin strokes a hand down your back, gently. “Green.” It’s small and it’s soft, but you give it. You’d say no if you didn’t want it.

Your body is shaking- you feel so unmoored, so unsettled. Namjoon is angry at you and it doesn't matter. He says it doesn't and you should believe him. Still- you’re willing to do anything to get him close, to be forgiven.

"What do you need?" namjoon asks you it without pre-amble, without expectation.

"I don't want to think anymore, I don't want to be afraid, can you" you hesitate, "Can you fuck it out of me?"

Namjoon spends another second watching you, waiting. But then he plunges on ahead. Letting the full weight of his scent ripple out, heavenly and thick. Intoxicating. 

"Kneel. Now. Both of you."

Your legs go weak and you plummet without your say-so. Jimin is close at your elbow, catching you as soon as you fall, guiding you softly to the floor so you don’t hurt your knees. Huffing a quiet laugh. Your face remains upturned in Namjoon's direction. Unable to look away.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jin stride over to you and Hobi. where you kneel side by side. His usually comforting omega pheromones are rancid. He cups your cheeks, turning you away from Namjoon to look at him.

He dangles the collar in front of you teasingly.

"You both have to earn your collars today- Both of you- on the couch" You aim to get up on your feed but Jin keeps you down with a soft hand on the top of your head.  "No, you'll crawl."

humiliation makes your breath hitch, but you you jerk forward, shuffling across the floor until Jin stops you yet again with a quiet laugh. "Not yet puppy, wait- stay-"

You can't possibly know that crawling is something that the others often make Hobi do in puppy space. He is no stranger to this. But you do recognize the wild glassiness as something else other than subspace when you look over at him tentatively, hoping that he's not looking at you, hoping that he's following their commands just like you are. It's substantially less embarrassing with him by your side.

Huh, you like this. You like kneeling with Hobi, it makes you feel fuzzy, it makes you feel safe- in a way that subbing alone or subbing with just Jungkook hadn't- maybe.

Maybe it's because Hobi is an alpha. 

"Stay." Jin commands, a hand up, and you feel like your whole body is on fire as the three of them, Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin, go to sit on the couch, taking their time while you both kneel. A loud keening noise punctures the quiet as you watch them walk away from you, and it takes you a breath to realize it came from your own throat.

“Stay, good puppies.”

The bubble in your throat bursts and you let out a held breath. Shaky.

Namjoon's thighs splay to show his generous hardness tenting in his slacks, Jin sits daintier, one leg crossed over the other and his robe re-tucked. Jimin shifts uneasily, hands on his knees, eyes darting from you to Namjoon who stares you down.

You watch delicately, as Jin laces his hand with Namjoon's, smoothing the other up and down Jimin's thigh. The other alpha's hardness isn't so obvious. But the scent of Jinnie's slick joins your own looping through the air like the scent of fresh baked goods on a hot summer's day. Sweet and enticing.

All you have to do is not move until Hobi does.

You keen again, and it goes unacknowledged again. Hobi's knuckles brush against the floor hard as he shifts his weight. The pack alpha and pack omega hold their breath.

"Okay, now."

Hoseok goes quicker than you do, you're a little slow, a little sluggish, a little dumb under the weight of whatever Namjoon's pheromones are doing to you. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire and your gaze is downturned as you crawl to them. The humiliation of it bleeding down your chest and back as you fail to meet their gaze as you go. Stopping only when you're in between Namjoon and Jin's feet. Hobi's thigh pressed against yours.

You watch as Jin fastens the red collar around Hobi's neck. The gold metal dog bone-shaped charm on the end rests against the hollow of his throat is so pretty. When he looks up at Jin, there is nothing but utter devotion in his eyes, it's so beautiful it makes you a little breathless.

As you watch the words on the charm catch the light, 'good boy' it reads.

"Good girl." Your gaze is drawn back to Namjoon and you feel your own collar fastened around the back of your neck. Jimin’s hands making quick work of the buckle. Not the pack alpha, although he does tug at the bell at the front, making it jingle. Removing it after a second.

Too much excess noise- maybe for those upstairs. Namjoon has no idea if they’ve finished yet but it’s late enough for them to be asleep.

Jin tugs at your collar, one hand looped through yours, the other Hobi’s. Hobi goes where Jin pulls him, as easy as breathing. You’re a little more stumbly, setting a hand on his knee to stop yourself from face-planting into it (you wouldn’t have hit it hard, you’re just very wobbly right now).

Jin lets you catch your breath (you’re panting a little too heavy already and they haven’t even begun) before pulling you cheek-to-cheek with Hobi. Jin does it for seemingly no reason, pulling you this way and that just to see if you'll follow until you're cheek to cheek with him. Until you can feel more than see hobi's grin.

It feels a bit like an owner showing their pet what they did wrong. A little humiliating where it not for the way Hobi squeezes your hip reassuringly. Jin's fingers toy with the back of your collar before threading through your hair, the other in Hobi's, scratching his scalp hard. Hobi tips his head back into the touch.

Your eyelashes flutter- head pets do feel really really good-

Jin's long fingers go tight in your hair, and he starts to tug you back to Hobi again. "Give her a kiss puppy, as a thank you for asking for a scene so sweetly. Show her how good puppies give kisses."

Your eyelashes flutter, and you barely catch the deep red flush on Hobi's cheeks- that matches the collar around his throat- before he follows Jin's command.

It's different than the kisses you shared in the car- so much more involved. Hobi's jaw works and his tongue- the way he laps into your mouth- licks blindly and sloppy, is messy- but it's good- the tip of your tongue teases his sharp canines and he tastes musky and satisfied, the fear and anger edging away bit by bit.

He bites your lower lip, smarting. Painful enough that you gasp and lean further into him. You like it when he bites, maybe a little too much- the shock- the zinging pain of being marked, the ache that stays there and lets you know you'll wear his bruises later.

Jin pulls him back with a savage jerk. "No biting, bad puppy." but Hoseok is grinning, eyes a little hazy, and you know you must be his mirror, reaching, reaching to touch.

Jin laughs softly as he shakes you slightly once for good measure, keeping you at arm's length from the very alpha that earned you this punishment. Shaking you gently. Before he lets you go, letting you sag against Namjoon's thigh and into his hands, the pack alpha shushes you, murmurs out a ‘good pup’ that makes you feel like you’re melting, scratching gently down your shoulders, between the straps of your tank top.

Jin’s eyes are flinty in the darkness. Dom space has never looked quite so brutal, quite so beautiful either. Jin sets his elbows on his knees and stares down at you until you whimper and look away. Hiding your face in Namjoon’s thigh.

"Minnie, take the pups out of their clothes. Just her pants, I think the pup needs a little cover." You gulp.

He's right, goosebumps form up and down your arms. You're not sure how Jimin gets you out of them- picking you up by the loops in your pants and draping you filthy and quick over Namjoon's thigh (an impressive feat of strength) yanking them off with a laugh as you kick your legs a little- just so that Jin can grab them to keep them still, just so that Hobi can put his teeth against your thigh to make you stay.

 "No puppy- bad- i said no biting." Your panties are just as wet and filthy with cum and slick as they were in the car nearly an hour ago. Your cunt flutters around nothing at a bit of rough treatment. Forcing more of the mess out. Seeping. Turning the fabric dark with a mix of slick and cum and squirt.

Jimin pries them apart to point it out to namjoon and jin and your hand goes tight on the pack alphas waist. glad that they can't see your face as they praise you. How you whimper and grow teary eyed a the humiliation of being put on display.

"Wow Hobi- how many times did you even make her cum?"

"Yeah she's like- totally ruined." They snap the band meanly- but they leave them on. Someone spankings you just once, brief, gentle- you hardly feel the sting. Before they place you gently back on the floor- this time properly between Namjoon's legs.

But it’s not really rough- it’s delicate. The way that Namjoon and Jin tug at your collar. The dark cushion that Namjoon sets down for your knees. Hobi doesn’t get a cushion and it takes you a second to figure out why.

He won’t be kneeling for long.

You might like it a little too much, having them manhandle you. Keeping you there on the floor below them- below the hum of conversation, not excluded but not expected to participate. Reassuringly just at the edge of their touch. Namjoon's fingers stay tucked into your collar, just at your scent gland, rubbing into it reassuringly.

Jimin is a good alpha and disrobes Hobi with just as much fussing.

Letting the other alpha growl and fight back until Jimin has to put real effort into pining Hobi to the floor. Ripping off his boxers with a clean jerk and a loud tearing sound. Laughing all the while- clearly enjoying himself as Hobi’s growls become needy whines and the knee between his leg grinds down.

His cock flicks and jerks as Jimin holds him there. His nose is pressed to the ground until he stops fighting back. Arms and shoulders flexing with definition. Determination flagging.

-Omegas watching have to show omega- have to show- but- but Minnie's too strong- it feels too good to let him set his teeth on Hobi's neck. To go limp at the attention. Jiminie is just- he's-

Hobi is spinning, dazed. Too dazed to notice your staring, the fresh pulse of slick in the air as you watch him. Peaking over Namjoon's thigh nervously to watch the scuffle. It feels too good to submit. To let go of the rioting animal thing in his chest and just give in.

You'd be nervous if Jimin's touch didn't go soft, didn't go sweet as he pets up and down Hobi's cheek. "There you go puppy- just needed to know alpha's here, right?"

Hobi trembles as he leans into Jimin's hands. He's still shaking when Jimin puts him gently back in between Jin's parted thighs.

It's only with Hobi completely bare that Jimin settles back against the couch. legs parted wide, cock so obviously hard between his legs tenting his black pajama pants. It's hard to miss it.

Hard and aching. You wonder if it hurts to be so turned on- to poke out like that.

You blink, first looking from Hobi, where he sits more docile and even more dazed looking than before to Namjoon above you, watching with a satisfied glint in his eyes. And you realize he was poised to step in if Jimin failed to settle him. He let Jimin take the job of settling. Let him- because he likes it.

Namjoon catches you watching, stroking down your neck in question. "I didn't realize the wrestling was like- a sex thing," You mutter, soft.

"It's not always," Jimin says, at the same time Jin snorts and says "Of course it was a sex thing." 

Hobi’s a little dazed, not responding to your words and it takes a glance for you to realize that oh- he’s somewhere else. His eyes are wide and upturned, glassy as he looks at Jin. He looks at Jin the same way that Jimin looks at Tae when she’s not looking. Utter devotion and more.

Hobi's good. He keeps his hands between his parted thighs at Jin’s feet. Not touching his cock, hard and arching up towards his stomach. All but shaking his ass to mime a wagging tail (you wonder if he's got one somewhere in the boxes in the other room). When Jin touches his cheek, Hobi whines and laps at his fingers.

“Good puppy” Namjoon croons from above you, eyes sharp on Hobi, glancing at you when he catches you watching. “Such a good example”  

After a second. You put your own hands between your parted thighs and push up on them. Mimicking his posture and arching your spine. looking back up at Namjoon for approval.

"Good pup, just like that."

Jin continues to pet Hobi, up and down the side of his face, scratching the top of his head. And Hobi continues to push into his hands. Eyes fluttering closed. The touches indulgent and certainly a reward.

Jin’s supposed to be angry; he’s supposed to be punishing you- but sue him- Seokjin has missed his puppy, his good boy. He’s going to take every opportunity for some much-needed daddy/dog time.

"Now, do you want to tell me what made you fuck like a mutt during a rut in a car where anyone could see you? Or do I have to spank it out of you?"

"We just- I- we went to the store and-"

Hobi whines loudly cutting you off, Jimin is massaging at his scent gland, leaning low to teethe at it while Jin pets through his hair. Hands skimming down, over his chest and then the skinny almost abs that Hobi's always had.

You know that Jin has his hands on his cock when Hobi seizes up. Eyes fluttering in relief. Lips parting, tongue pressing between his lips but not lolling out quite yet.

He pumps Hobi hard, once, twice. And Namjoon lets you watch. Peeking over his thigh, chin perched there, stroking down your cheek. He lets you watch Hobi jerk when Jin takes a hand off of him. Letting out a half gasp and half whimper.

The pack omega changes his mind, looking down at the bit of pre-cum on his fingers. Almost purring. Purring because even after having you twice, Hobi is still weak for his pack omega.

You squirm, rubbing your legs together, and Namjoon tuts, nudging your thighs apart with one of his shiny leather dress shoes. "No pup."

"Actually, I don't think we should spank them, I think that would be too much of a treat." Jimin taunts.

"I agree," Jin says, petting through Hobi’s hair, tugging it this way and that roughly.

Jin notices your confused expression, and he tips your chin up to his. "If you're going to fuck and tease like a mutt without thought then we're going to treat you like one puppy. Only good pups get treats."

Hoseok whines, so far down that he can't verbally respond, you stutter, trying to form words. More cognizant but still stumbling, struggling to meet Namjoon's eyes when you look up at him.

It's easier to stare elsewhere, not over at Jimin, who has one hand between his own legs and the other loosely wrapped around Jin's waist, chin resting on the omega's shoulder, fingers toying with the closure of his robe and the smooth planes of his chest revealed by the plunging neckline. That delicate clavicle that you are only too accustomed to- that you are only too hungry for in omegaspace.

It might take one last push to get you there. But Namjoon and Jin have always been fans of getting you down gently. Not plummeting.

“Tell Alpha,” Namjoon asks, directing your gaze back to him. Your cheeks cradled in both of his wide palms. You’re dimly aware of Seokjin ushering Hobi up onto the couch, but you stay right where you are.

Namjoon’s legs part wider, and you rest your cheek on his thigh, looking up at him. Even though he’s glowering down at you, you’ve never felt safer- here at the pack alpha's feet, within the careful circle of his long legs. Really- your alphas are all a force of nature, all so big and tall and strong. The kind of strength that makes you want to bear your throat and let them do with you what they want. 

Those cops out there didn’t stand a chance. If this was the olden days, Namjoon wouldn’t have hesitated to get violent on your behalf.

He smells so good- you can feel and taste it on your teeth.

"No no no- no biting. Pup-" Namjoon catches you, his voice shifting from angry to exasperated. You don't know how you didn't realize that you'd subconsciously started to go and bite his thigh. Stopped at the last second by his hands, your teeth skimming the smooth silk taper.

It's not your fault, Namjoon is very nibbleable.

Jimin laughs, and even Namjoon can't resist cracking a smile- "just let her have a nibble Namjoon-"

“Tell Alpha what you did in the car.” Hobi whines loudly, and you know that words are hard for him. That it’s hard for him to talk when his mind is scrambled like this.

“Hoseok-“

“Puppy” Namjoon corrects.

“Puppy he- we just-“ You stutter, lost for words, and Namjoon waits for a breath longer before he leans forward. Reaching wordlessly between your legs. Your panties are still on, clinging to the dampness there. Namjoon sets his fingers over you and doesn't move them. You whine. He has to reach so far down that he's practically nose-to-nose with you.

“Do you want me to tell you what I think happened pup?”

You nod, your nose brushes his cheek, and he pets softly between your legs. You’re so sensitive that you can’t help but gasp a little. “I think you let the puppy put his little cock and knot in this sweet hole right here. I think you let him mount you where anyone could see. I think he gave it to you good and sweet because you’re both normally very good and very sweet and I think it made him very very happy to tease alpha like this.”

You know that Hoseok isn't really small- at least not by alpha standards. But compared to Namjoon, to the length that's all but vulgar in the way it's swelled in his slacks, the thin silk that clings to it- compared to that- Hoseok is quite small. 

You shake your head, and Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Did it happen differently? Did you make him beg for your cute little hole?”

“You- you said that he gave it- but he didn’t-“ Namjoon raises an eyebrow, stroking gently down the side of your face. “I was on top.”

Namjoon looks so fast at Hobi perched in Jin's lap he thinks it might as well have given him whiplash. Jimin’s hand in Hobi’s hair pulls tight, tilting his neck back so that Jin can nuzzle mindlessly into his scent gland. All while his hands drift up and down Hobi's hips, avoiding the one hot and hard place between his thighs, although Hoseok's cock twitches every time Jin's hands wander even the least bit close.

Everyone is quiet for a moment.

And then Jin flicks Hobi's cock, gently. But Hobi still jerks near violent. Like an alpha possessed. Unable to control the way his body contorts. His gasp loud, pained, but his cock doesn't flag at all- if anything- it only looks like he grows harder.

Jin does it again just to watch him sqirm and flinch. "Bratty little pup- making her do all the work. I thought my good little puppy alpha knew how to be a good packmate, or do you need another lesson? does alpha need to show you how to knot?"

Your hips twitch and the motion isn't missed, Namjoon looks back at you finally- “Oh? Do you want to show Alpha how you rode the puppy’s cock?” You stutter- confused at what he means, until Namjoon keeps his hand on your shoulder and tips up the edge of his dress shoe and taps the inside of your thigh.

"Go on pup, show me how you rode him. You haven't earned a real cock yet so you'll have to make due."

At this angle, you can grip his knee to your chest, can hug Namjoon's calf, and pull yourself up on your knees the same way you did in the car. You short circuit- and you don’t know how to continue until Namjoon pulls you closer by your shoulders, half bent over, so that your front sits against his leg, hot and thick and powerful.

Only then does he sit back and reach for the button of his slacks, popping it open. “Go on pup, you were so eager to show us earlier- don't get shy on me now"

You start, moving your hips in simple little circles at first. Shy. looking up at him for approval that you're doing it right. Namjoon tugs at your collar, guiding you until you find your rhythm with a deep pleased growl.

It feels strange to do it, especially with all of them watching you. As you set your pussy over Namjoon's shoe and start to move. It's good- even if it's humiliating, all of this talk and manhandling has left you sticky and sensitive.

“Wait,” Jin says, reaching down, craning to get his hand between your thighs, slipping under your panties and pulling back with wet glistening fingers.

It's not only slick but a bit of Hobi's cum too. Jin tuts, spreading his fingers. Showing Namjoon and Jimin the translucent and cloudy in places threads that connect the wetness on his fingers. You shudder as you watch Jimin lick his lips, and feel Namjoon vibrate with a growl.

"Don't even try it Minnie-"

Jimin pouts, plush lips catching the light, "Wasn't going to-"

Hoseok just growls. Namjoon taps your chin and you go back to getting off on his thigh, trying to hide your little gasps every time you get the drag right. You don't pay attention to the alphas, you just look at Jin and his fingers- watching and waiting to see what he'll do with them.

Jin continues on like he doesn't have 3 alphas bickering over his slick-coated fingers. "I don't think you'll have any more cum left for me puppy, might have to milk it out of you." Jin nearly purrs as he looks over to where you're currently making a mess of Namjoon's shoes, all wet and slick. Rubbing your cunt all over him without a care in the world.

"What a needy little omega I've got- taking all of it and leaving none for Jinnie."

"Didn't mean to didn't-" Namjoon's fingers pinch your cheeks until your words go muffled. All mean and almost laughing at you for it. You might cry with how wound up you felt.

"No fibbing my little pup- we both know you probably loved it when puppy made you wet and messy. You both had to show us."

Hobi's whimpers and squirming starts up again a new. You let out a soft whimper as Hobi strains and Jimin holds him, both his hands held behind his back, on his knees still so that Jin can have unrestricted access to his cock. He's squirmier than you. Teeth bared, still fighting.

Jin’s hand must feel very very good because no sooner is the pack omega putting his slick hand to Hobi’s cock than is he squirming harder than ever. Fighting to get closer, fighting for more.

Jin’s hands move up and down Hobi’s cock, as he eyes his gnashing teeth. Taking none of it- not the growls or the snarls or the whimpers to heart, just leaning his cheek on his clean hand while his other goes up and down over Hobi's cock. Your slick makes the glide smooth and easy as he fucks up and down slowly, stopping occasionally to rub under the head until Hoseok is panting until his hips can’t up and-

Jin takes his hands off with a flick of his wrist, almost animated, and Hobi jerks violently as his orgasm slips away.

You whine too, and Namjoon makes a questioning hum in his voice. 'Wanna see puppy get all messy, wanna see him make Jinnie hands all messy too- Jinnie has pretty hands don't you think so alpha? Pretty pretty Jinnie Jinnie- pretty."

Namjoon laughs, and lovingly strokes down your cheek. You blink away the words, babbling when you're unaware that you are is one of the cutest ways that your omega space presents. Namjoon doesn't think he'll ever tire of how honest you get when you start to go into omegaspace. The way your thoughts just come out all at once.

The tips of Jin's ears are red, and Jimin nuzzles into them. Jin's hand goes extra extra mean on Hobi the drag tight and wet and so good it makes him want to cry when Jin takes his hands away again. Namjoon eggs you on.

"There's my pretty little pup. I know you want to see our beautiful pack omega- but punishments are punishments for a reason pup. You both have to earn it." Jin flushes at Namjoon calling him beautiful but you almost don’t catch it, too busy rubbing one out on Namjoon's shoe and nodding. Agreeing with what Alpha says because your alpha is very very smart and very very trustworthy.

Your chest is tight, and you're breathing heavy until Namjoon guides you to rest your cheek against his thigh oh so close to his cock. to where his hand moves. Your breath goes easy and sweet, soothed. A tight knot in your chest all but unraveled. Your rhythmic movements as you grind against his pant leg and shoe background noise to your frizzled mind. Namjoon's got you- you don't need to think about whether or not it's time to cum because he will tell you when you can.

Just like Jinnie's doing with Hobi right now. 

Jin stares at his pinking-up cock with that disapproving lilt to his eyes, all mean in the way that makes parts of you all melty. He waits for Hoseok's panting to go gentle before he starts up again. Just as slow and just as meticulously.

He goes like that, edging Hobi, bringing him just there, just a little more but always stops when Hobi’s tummy twitches and he grits his teeth. Jin can read his tells well- the wide panic in his face of an orgasm that comes on too strong, too fast, too quick.

Hobi's cock goes pink and then red after a few minutes. His taught muscles hard and shaking with the strength of his denied pleasure. Jin edges him again and Hobi's cock twitches, knot trying but failing to inflate on its own. Arms straining against Jimin's hold. Still fighting.

Jin won't let him cum until he gives up and goes pliant.

"No Hobi- a few more pup- and then you'll be forgiven." Hoseok is a good sub, you never would have known it, but he doesn't squirm after the first few- surrendering himself to Jin's touch and Jimin's quiet hold. You keep moving your hips under Namjoon's quiet guidance, your cheek resting on his thigh to watch, his own hand moving against his cock. Hard peeking out from the waistband of his slacks. Watching as Hobi gets more and more desperate.

It’s pretty- the way he jerks and moves- like the pleasure has a mind of his own. Sweat drips down his midline, and Jimin's fingers keep Hoseok restrained. Although you sense that's more just so Hobi feels him.

“Don’t cum without alpha’s say so puppy.”

Namjoon's thigh is warm under your cheek, “Yes alpha.”

His hands are in your hair, gentle. Holding you close and keeping you pressed against his thigh. “Are you close pup?”

“A little,” you admit. You're not really- but it does feel good enough that you know you could cum, if they left you to this for a few more minutes- if Namjoon praised you a little bit. You're hungry for it.

Namjoon growls, satisfied. “Go slower then, lean back so I can see. Show alpha how good you are."

You lean back on your hands and Namjoon watches, grinning. The flush on your cheeks is something he touches, something he pinches, while he works his cock and you ride. Namjoon eats up your small sighs and quiet hiccups of pleasure.

“Such pretty pups I have, such pretty little pups,” he croons, almost more to himself than to you. After watching a little He pulls you back to rest closer, more firmly between your thighs. “Just stay here and watch Jinnie take Hobi apart, will only take a few more minutes pup- can you keep from cumming until then?”

“Yes alpha, won’t cum, promise.”

“Good pup.”

Hobi’s trembling gets harder and harder with every edge. He must be nearing half a dozen by now. It gets even worse when Jimin snakes his hands around to the front and starts toying with his chest. It must be an alpha thing, because you're pretty sure he wouldn't have the same reaction if you tried it. Jimin flicks Hobi's small nipples, and his cock twitches, dripping fresh pre-cum that Jin rubs into his skin. So wet and slick it makes a sound.

He gives him a breather, but isn't much of a breather at all when his touch treads down, examining all of Hobi- every inch. Beyond a neatly trimmed touch of hair that you know must be Jin's handy work- he keeps all the alphas very well groomed- Tae and Namjoon shave- but Hobi and jimin keep themselves just nicely trimmed. Pretty.

"Did you leave any for your pack omega Hobi, or did you give it all to her little cunt? Did it feel good? Pup is so warm and wet all the time- I bet she made a mess first."

You whimper, and Namjoon hooks a thumb into your mouth to press the pad of his finger against your tongue, just keeping his fingers there. And you part your lips wider. His own fist still moving up and down around the head of his cock. So wide that even Namjoon’s big hands can hardly go around it.

You wonder if the slide is too dry- you could make it wet for him, the same way you did with Hobi. You suck, soothing the wild want in your chest.

Hobi's mouth finally cooperates, finally sorts through the mess of good puppy, good boy, have to be a good boy, as he jerks away from what surely would have been a painfully needed orgasm.

"Yes! I did, I just-" Jin flicks the head of Hobi’s cock again and he flinches so hard that Jimin has to scruff him, turning his body limp, and he gives a wet sob, there is no remnant of the alpha that teased you until you were shaking earlier. But if anything- it's just as alluring. You can't look away, can't decide what to look at, Namjoon's big cock just in front of your face- or Hobi’s tearful jerking as Jin denies him an orgasm once again.

("Can you do that to me eventually?" You'll ask eventually, tomorrow maybe. In the nest, soft, pressed to Jin's chest, the safest place in the universe for pups that are still coming up, still feeling the after-effects of all of all this submission. hazy and trusting and boneless at your edges. "What? Edge you? You want to try it?" and Jin will giggle, and nip at your nose playfully. "Careful what you ask for honey.")   He cries, but you know that it’s not your job to worry about that right now. “Want alpha.” You say, hugging Namjoon’s leg to your chest like a lifeline. You’re not sure you could stand if you wanted to. The pleasure is secondary to the submission like this.

“Want alpha to make puppy full- want knot here" you touch your stomach, and every alpha in the room growls. "please alpha, knot-“ you babble, but break off the second Namjoon turns his disapproving stare back to you.

“No pup. Not tonight.”

You whine but Namjoon doesn’t do anything but continue to work his cock hard and fast. You open your mouth, eyes fluttering closed, and Namjoon’s thumb presses on your lower lip, sort of in warning, sort of in fascination.

For once you actually wouldn't mind sucking him off, not if it was like this. With you safely under Namjoon’s thumb. Before- blowjobs had been a source of anxiety and trauma for you. But right now- you are so neglected, so riled up and so far down in subspace that you want things you wouldn't ordinarily. Maybe if you're good alpha will-

Namjoon knows this, and stops you before you can bully your way between his legs. "No pup." You whine petulantly and Namjoon soothes away the tears at the corner of your eyes. "Don't act like I’m being mean, it wouldn't fit pup, your mouth is too small for me."

"But- but- Pup could try-"

Jimin’s tone is dark and when you look at him, he's glaring. "Alpha said no pup. I thought you wanted to be a good little pup."

Jin clicks his tongue, "Your size kink is showing."

They're chagrined but not really, Namjoon lifts up the heel of his shoe, far enough that the toe hits your clothed pussy again and you chirp, clinging to his thigh. "Don't-" you cut yourself off, distracted by the way that Namjoon's fisting his cock, Namjoon might be fucking massive- but it's also pretty and veiny, proportional. Pink at the tip and dewy. You’d stopped grinding. Too distracted. Too small-minded.

"If you stop grinding pup I stop touching, you don't want to deny both of your alphas their pleasure, do you? Don't you want to be good."

You do want to be good and you're plummeting. Your brain starts to hinge on Namjoon's every word, alpha pheromones thick and sweet in your throat as you nod and continue to grind against Namjoon's smooth leather shoe. You can't say it's not a good feeling.

Although your hole is already pink and oversensitive from Hobi’s knotting earlier. Your clit had remained neglected then- but not anymore. You drag it wet and twitchy, presses against the wet fabric that clings, over the leather and it does feel good, it does feel sweet.

You continue to grind one out as Namjoon works a hand up and down his cock. Faster now. He's long enough that if he directs it towards you, you can open your mouth and let him tap the head against your tongue.

He does do that, once, twice, and then again for good measure. Namjoon's hand moves faster and faster.

You know he’s done for when you flick your eyes from his cock, and then back up to his face. loling out your tongue. You want it- you want to taste that you make your alpha happy.

When Namjoon cums, it's all over your face and chest, the thin white tank top will easily be stained in places, ruined probably (a shame- since you're pretty sure it's one of Tae's. Your mommy alpha just might take you over her lap for ruining it) It drips down your collar bones and over the top of your chest in thick hot ropes. Namjoon always cums so much. You close your eyes but Namjoon is careful. Aiming most of it at your neck and scent gland. A bit of it gets in your mouth, lips parted, and Namjoon tastes salty and potent.

(Something, something deep in your body clicks finished at that, something that is neither instinct nor biology.)

Namjoon works his cock through his orgasm, fisting his knot that only swells part of the way without an omega around it clamped warm and tight. But still looks cute and puffy at the base of his cock when he lets go with a wince.  Letting you nuzzle into it and press a little kiss there. After a few seconds with him breathing heavy and your hips stilling, he tugs you up onto the couch. Guiding you to sit with your legs apart, giving your sensitive and sticky hole a bit of a break.

Namjoon wraps his arms around you and holds you for a second. Still breathing heavy. Giving you a little squeeze. Behind you- Hobi lets out a broken whimper. He’s too tired to jerk anymore. Cock going from red to almost purple with the strength of his denied orgasms.

Jin stops for a second. Holding Hobi close too- Jimin hooks his chin over Hobi’s shoulder to look down at his angry-looking cock.

Namjoon sits you on his lap and parts your thighs for the others to see the mess you've made of your panties. Skimming the tips of his fingers up to your twitching clit. Guiding your underwear off. You know better than to try and close your thighs. Sagging openly back against his chest and letting him put you on display, without worrying, without thinking. Staring up at him with what you know must be a dazed expression. Namjoon is such a pretty alpha, all of your alphas are so pretty. Jiminie too-

You blink, and when you look, Jimin's cheeks are pink, so pink and flustered that he buries his face in the nape of Hobi's neck. And you know once again you've spoken without realizing you have.

Namjoon's eyes flicker down to his cum on your chest and he wipes it away with a groan, “I’m sorry pup. Alpha should have been more careful about not making you messy.” Jin hums, eyes flashing from you to Hobi and you get the sense that he and Namjoon are communicating without words. Jimin shifts restlessly behind Hobi, holding him less firmly- but he's boneless now, tamed, and stays prostate as Jin shuffles over to you.

There is a towel- from where you don't know- maybe Jimin got it preemptively when he went and retrieve your collars. But it's rough against your cheek as Jin diligently cleans you of the pack alpha's cum- not your chest- but at least your face.

"My poor little puppy, made messy from two alphas already tonight," you pout, nodding up at him. Your hands tangle in the front of his robe, pulling at it petulantly.

"M'empty," you say, a little petulantly, and you are, the hollow ache is there, and you have three perfectly good alphas to fill you. "Want cum, pup's been good? Good puppy?"

Jinnie pecks your nose, "best puppy. My poor little pup, you did so well for Joonie- I think you've earned a little knot," Hobi shuffles forward, perking up, ready for his reward but Jimin jerks him back by his collar again and you've never seen him look so crestfallen.

Behind him, Jimin squirms and you sense it coming when Jin turns to kiss Hobi’s forehead and detangles himself from Jimin. Hobi needs to settle and Jimin-

Jimin needs a reward. For being so good, for keeping Hobi still for the pack omega.

You can feel the alpha's eyes on your pink cunt, a little wet and slick from where you rode Namjoon's shoe still splayed over his leg, on display. Jin beckons you over to them and you push yourself up onto your hands and knees, no longer unsure as you crawl over to the pack omega. You know your chest still has cum on it, that you're still wrecked, you don’t mind it.

Alpha, your instincts hum, I smell like alpha.

Behind Hobi, Jimin watches you with beady eyes, murmuring out a soft "fuck."

“Puppy was so rude earlier, making our little omega do all the work- I feel like I've neglected his education- I’ve neglected to show you puppy how a real alpha breeds an omega.” Jin keeps a hand on Hobi’s collar to keep him from getting to you but he tries anyway.

“Pup,” you look back at him, hands between your legs, back arched, waiting perfectly for his instruction.

“Present for us, let Jiminie see your little hole.”

You know how to make presenting pretty, guided by instinct and the desire to see your pack omega fulfilled as you start to turn and situate yourself on your hands and knees. But as you turn you stop- Namjoon's already moving.

He moves across the room, pulls the ottoman out from where it's tucked sort of by the coffee table, moving it over just in front of them.

It's not a breeding bench, it's really not but- but it could be.

Anxiety bleeds down your chest. You've never used a breeding bench, you've seen them before of course but you've never-

"Don't know- don't know how- Alpha- what are you-"

Namjoon holds out his hand to help you stand. "Alpha will show you pup," You get on your feet, teetering, clutching at the edge of your shirt with an anxious thrum to your bones, but Namjoon- Namjoon's so good as he guides you.

You squirm, unsure, unsure because Jin and Jimin and Hobi are all looking at you and you're anxious about doing it wrong. You get onto the ottoman on your knees but resist it as Namjoon pushes you. You have no chance- you know you could never overpower Namjoon but the resistance makes him pause.

He wraps his arms around your middle, completely disregarding the mess of his cum still on your chest, smearing it without care as he holds you. Pecking your cheek, your lips, your mouth that parts in a needy whine.

"In the olden days, back when people used to use breeding benches to settle fussy omega's like you- they had straps and buckels to keep you presented. To keep you in place. Do you want something like that pup? Do you need it?"

You whine and nod, and Namjoon jerks his chin again, not at you but at Jimin.

You kneel there, partially hidden by the pack alpha, content to be held for a second. While Jimin goes to the other room.

The silk in Jimin's hands reminds you of some of Tae's ribbon, pink too- just like your collar, but braided and strong- it matches the color of your collar and you wonder when they got it. "Yoongi's better at this than I am." Jimin says as he starts to tie your ankles, splaying them apart on either corner of the ottoman. As Namjoon latches a leash to your collar.

You surrender yourself completely to their tugging, the loops that Jimin puts around your ankles, and the way that Namjoon splays your legs wider and then pulls the ropes tight- showing him how to do it, looping them around the legs of the ottoman.

Namjoon leaves your hands free, but it almost doesn't matter with how short the leash is, you can't even lift your chin up off the fabric. It takes them maybe 30 seconds to properly restrain you, and when you try to lift your head, to stop arching your spine- you find you can't move more beyond a little squirming.

Oh- oh. You like this, you like not being able to move, not being able to fight and squirm. It's like a collar only full body, it's like a collar only better.

"There we go- that's a good pup, that feels better right? All settled now?" You whimper, eyes rolling, you like this- you like being restrained.

Namjoon's fingers are long, long enough that he can pry your hole open and show Hobi just how pink and messy your hole is, a bit of cum- the last little bit probably- given how much you've already spilled. Slipping out and down to the nudge of your clit.

Namjoon presses it back inside, and you keen, no longer empty. It's momentary because Namjoon doesn't finger you for long, just checks, just checks that you're open enough to take Jimin's knot. Hot and clenching around his fingers. Worked up already you know you won't take much. You whine loud and petulantly- you know Namjoon already said he wouldn't knot you tonight and he'd surely have to prep you more but-

Utter bliss falls over you at the tightness of your restraints. Jinnie and Namjoon are such good pack alpha and pack omega, surely they know what's best, surely they know what you should do with the sweet pinking sensitivity between your legs.

It’s not up to you what happens right now or which alpha fucks and breeds you. It's so easy to let your head down and let go. To feel the bounds of your own control in the restraints. Embarrassed deep down but in the moment unable to do anything but obey obey obey.

Jin's command comes like a crack of thunder. "Alpha, mount."

Hobi jerks at the command, almost falling with how quick he tries and fails to get up from the couch, he gets another flick to his cock at that- and the attention leaves him near howling. Blinking away tears at the corner of his eyes.

"Not you mutt," Jin croons, affectionate even if the words are demeaning. He jerks his chin.

"Minnie, show the puppy how it's done, show him how my alpha's are supposed to breed their omega's and not the other way around."

Jimin shifts, sliding to the edge of the couch, tentative but eager. But Minnie- minnies got a knot, you know it's chubby and that it feels good.

Namjoon eggs him on, "Show him Minnie- show him how a proper alpha gives an omega their knot, I know I've taught you and Tae well."

The implications of that make your head spin, did namjoon show them? Did he set Jin or Kookie up on a bench like this and show them one after another how to fuck properly? How to make the drag sweet and with finesse? Your head spins at the idea of it.

But too soon for your fantasy is Jimin bullying his way between your thighs, Namjoon's hands guiding his hips to put it in. "There you go minnie, just like that, isn't she so warm inside? isn't the fit tight or did Hobi take that from you-"

"Still Tight- wet" Jimin pants out as your eyelashes flutter open in relief, making eye contact with Hobi, bearing his teeth, feral, and you realize Jin is having to put real effort into holding him back.

His growl is all the warning you get as Jimin sheathes everything he's got inside of you. Not so long but thick enough that it has you gasping, unable to breathe, eyes wide and body taught. Hands gripping the edge of the ottoman for something to hold onto.

Your reaction doesn't stop Jimin, and he sets about a diligent pace immediately. Setting an even rhythm, pulling out almost all the way every time he fucks in, pulling soft whines from you. It's slow- but every trust is firm and deep, grinding in, pulling you by your hips back onto his cock, hands fisting in your tanktop. all but using you to get off with how he forces you back and forth on it making you feel inch.

You have no control over the pase like this. The room drowns in the sound of your fucking, Jimin's groans, hobi's snarls. His alpha chaffed at another having what's his. You're so full and wet that it's overwhelming, and you cry out gently as Jimin fucks you harder, faster.

"That's a good alpha, just like that" Jin praises, and jimin's pace stutters and then goes firmer, more brutal. more eager to show off just how good he can fuck.

Before long he's chasing his own end, both of you so riled up that it doesn't take long. Jimin's good at concentrating even though you know he's close. The delicate pleasure between the two of you simmers until there is nowhere else for it to go and you close your eyes.

Jin murmurs something, and their hands are on you- guiding the towel underneath your tied-apart legs as Jimin pants. "hyung- hyung-" fingers digging into your sides.

"Please- please alpha- wanna- wanna cum, want- knot" You babble, but Jimin is a good alpha and gives you exactly what you ask for.

You open your eyes looking at jin and namjoon, waiting for permission, so close you might not be able to hold off if they don't give you permission to cum.

you watch as jin wraps a firm hand around hobi's knot, holding onto it hard- hard enough that he wouldn't be able to pup a knot at all. you don't realize it serves a purpose until he turns his eyes back on you.

"Puppies, cum."

The three of you jerk, flinching from it. Hobi's whine is so heartbreakingly disappointed that it would surely put you into distress if you weren't preoccupied with cumming yourself. You wonder if Hobi would have cum from just a command alone if Jin didn't have his hand hard around his knot.

Jimin’s knot is just as chubby and thick as the last time it stretched you out, you cum when he plugs you up, so gentle and like breathing- so good that you hardly twitch or tremble. It doesn't feel uncontrolled or too intense. It's just warm and right as you sigh and fall completely boneless at last. Jimin grinds it deep and then lets it rest there.

You feel like youre hearing jin and namjoon talk through water as you flutter down, "Did she squirt?" Jin asks, and Namjoon's close, by your side.

"No, I don't think so."

Jin hums, disatisfied.

You sniffle but Jimin's so polite with it, keeping his knot inside of you as he kisses down your spine, plastered to your back and teething at your neck, licking, soothing.

You spend the next few minutes in bliss waiting for it to go down, letting him pet up and down your sides, getting kisses to your ankles as Namjoon unties you. Jin pets up and down your warm cheeks- soothing your hiccuping breaths at being so full. hobi laps at your scent gland, teething at it soothingly.

You get picked up, still on Jimin’s knot, settled back down onto the couch next to Hobi so that he can plant slobbery kisses all up and down the nape of your neck, scruffing you a little (or at least trying too- it doesn’t really stick). Jimin isn't threatened by hobi's presence, they nudge noses and kiss too- just as involved. You're genuinly a little surprised that Jimin lets hobi muscle his way so close and nose under your chin.

But then you stiffen, tensing as Hobi's cock nudges where you're already stretched around Jiminie's knot. You pull back, a bit panicked. Jimin growls in warning.

"Can't fit- can't-" but Jin is already there- stopping Hobi's over-eager puppy space imaginations. (Taking two knots at once isn't something you think you can do- maybe…maybe after taking Namjoon's knot you could- you won't muse on that until later).

"Soon alpha, just be patient" Jin croons, petting up and over Hobi's stomach. Even that makes his cock twitch. Another edge and Hobi will cum. You know he will- Jin is saving it for the right moment.

His knot goes down eventually, and when he slips out, Jin is there. You decide that you love breeding benches, and you want one- a real one so that alphas can just tie you up just like that and leave you there for whenever they want you, so safe and at their mercy. You like it lots and lots.

Jimin has his face tucked into your throat when you come too. And Namjoon grins, a little feral at the idea of it, "Be careful what you ask for pup."

Jin is the one who guides you carefully off Jimin's knot once it's gone down. back into the same position you were in before, displayed in Namjoon's lap, your cunt pinker and more sensitive than before.

Jimin is sated and a little quiet after knotting. It's not going non-verbal- but no one encourages Jimin to speak as you're transferred from his lap to Namjoon's, Jin kisses Jimin's cheek and then yours, eyes darting down to look at your pussy and examining Jimin's handiwork.

“Clench down for me sweet thing, keep alpha's cum all safe in your little cunt- you can't waste it- he gave it to you so sweetly.”

“Trying- can’t-” You can feel it slip out, your entrance so stretched out from two knottings. It makes you panicky in a way that it surely wouldn’t if you weren’t in omegaspace. Can't lose it, alphas have to breed puppies, alphas can't-

Namjoon groans and rubs a hand over his face. And you know you've spoken without meaning too. Jin makes a tsking noise in his throat. And then something slenderer is there at your entrance. And Jin guides Jimin’s spent back into your hole, plugs it up, and keeps them safe there with three of his long nobbed fingers, rubbing up against something spongy that makes your toes go numb with pleasure, feeding it back into your sloppy cunt.

You grab his wrist, stopping him, "Can't, too much-" but it's the wrong move.

Jin does not take his hand out, he doesn't even stop rubbing up at your g-spot, rubbing slow circles inside of you. Fucked open by two knots tonight, you're so sweet and open on his fingers.

"But I thought you wanted to cum puppy? You begged for it earlier, why stop after just one?"

"Sensitive- too much-"

Jin bristles, and he only fingers you harder, pressing Jimin's cum further inside, fingers brushing that soft squishy place inside of you that opens only during your heats- the place so deep inside you that only Namjoon can penetrate. The place that makes you keen to be touched like that, your chirp high and needy.

"I am the one that decides when you've had too much, I am the one who decides when you can't anymore, or did you forget that puppy?" you sob and shake your head and let Jin keep going. Three fingers slipping in, stretching you wider.

"If you really want me to stop then say it, say it and I will." You sob but bite your lips and shake your head. And Namjoon actually laughs behind you. "See? Daddy knows best pup,"

Jimin turns back to life at that, groaning, leaning his head back against the couch. "Jin, I swear to god i'll get hard again if you make her call you daddy."

Namjoon huffs behind you and you cry and cry and tremble as Jin keeps working his fingers into you. Namjoon pecks the back of your neck. "too late minnie,"

When he wrenches his fingers out, a little bit of squirt comes with it, darkening the edge of his robe. He does it again and you let out a few more droplets and you start crying in earnest. If he touched your clit right now you don't know what would happen.

Jin doesn't, although the threat of it is there. He grins down at you, where you cry in Namjoon's lap. Hobi lets out a concerned whine and shuffles close.

"Say thank you puppy. Say 'Thank you Daddy for being right even though I thought I couldn't handle it.'"

"Thank you, Daddy" You sob out, sniffling, Jin grins and kisses your cheek after you finish repeating it back to him.

It gives him a sick pleasure, to edge one sub and overstimulate another at the same time. You sob and Hobi leans over to lick at the tears on your face, letting out a comforting grumble. He laps lower, where the pack alpha came earlier. He can surely taste it and he probably likes it.

There's still a bit of Namjoon's cum on your chest, turning your nipples glossy where the tanktop has been pulled low, stretched out by Jimin's tugging when he fucked you back on his cock.

Jin's eyes light up wickedly. Eyes darting to your cunt, still messy with Jimin's cum, slipping out despite his efforts because your pussy simply got knotted too wide.

Jin starts to guide Hobi toward you. His cock still bobbing, pressing instantly up his hard knot close to popping. He trembles where he sits on his knees, hands planted on the couch watching you with beady almost animal eyes. Hair falling over his eyebrows. Lips pulled back around a snarl.

You wonder if this is what Hobi's like during a rut.

"Good puppies clean up alpha's messes." Hobi whines and tries to pull back, but he's never been able to beat Jimin in a fight, and now is no different. Especially when the other alpha tugs on his collar and grinds his own hard cock onto the cleft of Hobi’s ass. Jin hooks his fingers into Hobi's collar and guides him closer to where you squirm in Namjoon's lap. The pack alpha laughs meanly.

"What? Getting shy now? You were so eager to show us earlier- won't you give us a demonstration?" 

Jin tugs Hobi’s collar when he doesn’t immediately obey. Jin's hair is fluffed up at the side, maybe where Hobi scented him a little rough and clumsy. You know what it's like to need Jin's scent to keep you steady.

"Here's your choice Hobi, you can either clean up Namjoon's cum off of our pup's face and Jiminie's cum from her cunt and I’ll let you cum in the pup's cute little hole. Or you can stop now and go to sleep without cumming and Jinnie will fuck you in the morning." 

Hobi growls, as if the idea of the pack omega fucking him and not the other way around is too much for his instincts to handle. He shimmies forward, eyes dark, so far down in puppy space or alpha space or whatever you want to call it that his instincts are right there right at the forefront.

but hobi is practically wagging his tail, bright eyed and eager, "calm down puppy, you'll do it without knotting her- but jinnie will let you cum,"

Hobi's so excited he doesn't even whine, letting out a happy little sound- it's not really a bark but-

You're blushing so hard that you can't stop the headrush, “Isn’t it a little gross?"

It’s Jimin who answers, shaking his head and grinning “Not at all, it’s like-” Jimin breaks off for a second, touching gently down Hobi’s spine. “Tae would have better words for it but- it feels like our instincts swallow each other- when we take you down together it's like- alpha bonding."

Jin swats at his arm, “only you would turn cumswapping into something romantic.”

“Hyung” he whines.

Hobi can do little more than growl in response and jerk against Jimin’s touch, it's a good thing Jin has Hobi held tight. Otherwise, you have no doubt he'd take you right here right now.

You whimper, and Namjoon rubs a soothing hand down your side, pulling up the hem of your shirt so that Hobi can see your tummy so that he can set a possessive hand over it. "Don't you want to put your cock right here pup? Come on- be good for alpha, come get your treat."

You close your eyes,

Hoseok’s tongue is warm and wet, laving, lapping easily over your face, down your chest, gentle at first warm puffs of air, up and down cleaning you efficiently of the pack alpha's cum.

But then the bite comes, the pain sharp but needed to ground you, as you gasp and move away- only to be held still by Namjoon. He left marks- two circles just over your breast, another dark mark on your collarbone.

"Gentle puppy, you can nibble but be gentle" Hobi continues like that, lapping and nibbling and biting, leaving marks on your chest, your stomach, the tops of your thighs up and down the inside of them. Namjoon hooks an elbow under your knee as Jin holds Hobi to your hole by his collar.

"Don't cum pup, even when he licks your clit, you're not allowed too until I say so." Your hair bounces when you nod, close to crying again.

Hobi leaves his teeth marks on either side of your thighs, biting hard enough that you know they'll be bruises tomorrow. You tremble, and it hits you with a zing as Hobi sets his tongue flat over your clit. "Can't- gonna-"

"You'll hold off pup." Jin's tone is that of no-nonsense. Hobi licks you again messy, lost to the taste, and you jerk harder. Pussy clenching.

"Can't" you stress. Sobbing again in desperation as Hobi cleans you. Pressing sloppy kisses over your hole, lapping inside to clean you of Jimin's cum. Laving his tongue up and over your clit searching for more of your taste.

You tremble and somehow manage to keep off, probably because Jin only lets Hobi get one or two good licks in before he's tugging him up onto his knees, guiding his cock close for his reward.

"Remember no knots, but you can cum puppy," you sob through the sensitivity as hobi breaches your tender entrance, Namjoon petting up and down your stomach to soothe you.

Hoseok doesn't last, doesn't even last long enough to get in you fully before he's cumming. All Jin has to do is praise him a little more and stroke his knot once and then again and he’s soaking your entrance with ropes of thinner cum. Hobi jerks through it, abs trembling and head hung low with a loud whine. Jimin holds around his waist loosely to keep him from plugging you up with his knot.

It's so- it's so messy without that. When he pulls back, his cum slips out almost immediately. Dripping down to your other hole- all over you.

Someone kisses the wetness at your lower lash line. Eyes closed. You're not sure who it is. Maybe it doesn't matter. 

"My Messy puppies." Jin croons, stroking a loving hand down your cheek. You open your eyes.

Jimin laughs and leans over apparently not one to be outdone as Jin whispers sweet nothings into Hobi's ears. Jimin is just as emboldened, He shimmies onto the floor, grinning all the while.

The sight of Jimin between your legs smiling, his hands tilting your hips up forcing your legs wider- tips you over an unseen edge. You're already trembling as he leans forward to lap at your cum soaked clit, pressing his tongue flat there to repay Hobi's favor of cleaning it out of you.

Jimin giggles as he pulls back, and leans in to give it a little kiss.

Alpha's are so filthy.

Your orgasm washes over you, unseen, unbidden, you really couldn't tell them where it came from- but your legs are shaking and your hole clenches wildly- you squirt all over Jimin's face, spilling even more of Hoseok's cum and-

"M'sorry 'm sorry- didn't mean to alpha- was just-"

You cry freely, so worked up, needing catharsis and settling. Jin coos, cupping your cheek. And Namjoon lets out a soothing growl as he scents across the top of your head. Holding you hard as you cry and cry and cry.

Hobi just watches, a little dead to the world and swirling down from his orgasm to be of much help. Held tightly by Jin, Resting his cheek against your shoulder and nosing into your scent gland. Jin’s arm around his waist keeps him supine.

"Oh pup, it's okay, all is forgiven."

You keep crying shaking your head, "Baby pup was bad- Minnie kissed and- and puppy- bad-"

But your tears just down stop, you're not really making sense but Jin shushes you anyway. Hobi tilts his head, whining loudly. Apparently non-verbal this far down in puppy space but not willing to let his omega go unsoothed.

Namjoon's cool hands on your face bully away most of your tears. "It's alright- it's okay-" You're overwhelmed from cumming basically untouched. Overwhelmed by being disobedient. Jin just told you- just told you not to cum and you did anyway.

"Was bad- was bad, daddy told me not to cum and I- couldn't- couldn't help it" You're crying plummeting into an unhappy place that Jin and the others surely don't want you to be in.

Jin takes your face in his hands. "Okay okay- how about this?" You hinge on every word. Nodding eagerly for any solution. So far down that only their words make sense. Not the tightness in your chest. The want- the need to be good.

Jin’s voice is a low purr. “Joonie is gonna give your pussy 10 good spanks, and then after that alpha will kiss it better and you’re forgiven. If you cum during that you're allowed, and after- the scene is done. You're forgiven. And there will be no more punishment or cumming.”

You nod and relax back into Namjoon's hold, the pack alpha picks you by your knees,draping them on either side of his thigh. keeping them wide. Letting your breathing calm down, Hobi ducks low to nuzzle at your shoulder, nipping, teething more gently this time almost ticklish making you giggle.

"Is this what you meant when you asked us to fuck it out of you?"

You nod weakly, Hobi continues to nibble at your jaw until Jin pulls him back.

You do need a spanking; your alphas are so smart- they know exactly what you need. You need more of a punishment. Maybe a defined moment where everything goes from bad to good. A solid transition from bad pup to good pup and not the back and forth that you've been doing for the last...2 hours?

Has it really been that long? have you really been fucking them for that long?

"Are you ready pup?" You nod against his throat, sort of sleepy.

Namjoon sits up straight and sets you up so that he can look down at you while he restrains you in much the same way that Jimin restrained Hobi. Hobi- who sprawls out on the couch now, all tension in his body gone, nuzzling sleepily into Jin's thighs, between his legs a bit. Maybe this is also a treat for Jimin- for being good- for helping settle the two of you.

You're too busy watching to catch the first discend of Namjoon's palm, You yelp and shoot a couple of feet into the air, but your cunt throbs hard. Warm and wet, the loud slap echoes in the house. And you try to close your legs.

Namjoon keeps them apart, his big hands dimpling in the chub of your thighs. He only lets go when you stop fighting him. Jin smiles, setting his chin on his elbow to watch. Hobi's hand sneaks under his robe. Pawing at the pack omega.

Namjoo taps between your legs again and you jerk from the loud sound. It's gentle but the tingle comes first, the pleasure second. "Two" he purrs in your ear. Growing more confident as your scent swells sweeter. Jimin and Jin recline to watch, the pack omega crossing one leg over Jimin's and curling to his side before reaching down a hand to scratch at Hobi's stomach. Hobi's tongue lolls out.

Namjoon hits your clit fully on the third tap and you shoot almost a foot into the air with how sensitive you are, crying freely. It's good- so good, the sudden shock of contact, the hurtling feeling of his soothing touches as he strokes up and down your stomach.

"More." You ask, and your doms laugh at you as you squirm. "Please alpha."

You cum on the ninth spank, twitching and crying and squirting all over Namjoon's thigh while he croons and praises you through it. It’s not as much as you usually squirt, a pitiful amount really, just a dribble. You try to close your legs again but they don't let you, Jin and Jimin hold them open one a piece. Namjoon's teeth nibble at the nape of your neck, and your eyes roll back.

Namjoon slaps your cunt just once more, spanking the last little bit of squirt out of you through your wet sobs. The pleasure is so intense you think you might black out for a second.

When you come too, you’re crying and Jin is at your front holding your face in both his hands, shushing your sobs.

"Good pup, good babygirl- did so well us, for me. What a good pup we have giving us all of it.”

“M’ sorry m-’” you’re shaking, trembling sort of violently, you need- you need them close; you need all of them so close you can’t breathe around the need for it.

Jin bares his teeth, “Good pup, come to daddy, I’ve got you my sweet little thing, I’ve got you. That was a big one, wasn’t it?” Jin's got you sandwiched between him and Namjoon, pressing you so firmly between the two of them that you can feel it in your ribs. You nod, still crying.

“Too big? Too intense? Oh, my poor little pup with her big cummies. Joonie is so mean making you make a mess like that and turning your cute little cunt all pink, here let me see, come sit with Jinnie and I’ll make him kiss it better.”

You sniffle, still coming down. You get manhandled into position for some much-needed aftercare.

Aftercare is a bit of a blur. You doze and Your oversensitive and spanked hot cunt gets draped over Jin’s thigh. And a liberal amount of soothing touches get dispensed up and down your back, your face, rubbing away your tears with an errant tongue, a cool wet cloth. A soft kiss from each of your alphas (Hobi’s does get a little slobbery). You sniffle and surrender yourself to their fussing gladly.

You hardly stir when Namjoon presses a gentle kiss to your pussy, too feather-light to garner much of a reaction beyond a hiss of sensitivity on your part. Your knotted entrance flutters. Puffy and pink and too enflamed to cum again, at your limit.

Hobi's collar stays on- but yours gets taken off, a cool cloth rubbed up and down your neck and the rest of your skin. Cleaning you efficiently and truly this time. You'll need a long bath- but you'll probably sleep through it.

The next time you're lucid Jin gets you a small tin of cookies and guides Hobi to kneel on the floor again. Sit and stay- like a good boy. He snaps up each of them and happily licks at your fingers, sloppy, in puppy space, as you feed him his good pup treats (that are really just cookies) you giggle, high, cute. still in omegaspace and oh so softminded. hair mused, cheeks round and pink as you watch hobi.

"What do you say pup?" Jinnie guides.

You giggle again, "Good puppy?" Hoseok's hips sway, miming as if his tail was wagging.

"Show us your tummy Hobi- play dead, good boy. What a good boy."

After that, you're guided to lay down on Namjoon, right next to Hobi. Both of you need your pack alpha right now as you sniffle and press closer. Pressing your nose to the hollow of his throat, the inches of honey chest revealed by his unbuttoned shirt. Trying to get more of him as Hobi rubs his whole face against Namjoon’s stomach. Namjoon smells soothing and musky, the exact opposite of how he smelled when you walked through the door.

And before long, you need a hole check.

You’ve begun to doze between Namjoon and Hobi when A cool touch is dispensed over your inflamed lips and twitching clit that Jin only barely pulls at meanly until you whine desperately. But it's just him. Just the pack omega inspecting you and making sure you're all right, that you're all clean. Checking your hole for any evidence of too much hurt.

Jimin bullies his way behind you, hand sneaking under your thigh, "Here hyung, I’ll hold her up so you can give her some cream."

"What a good alpha Minnie, thank you." Hiccupping out your protests as you remain between your three alphas, pliant, at their mercy. The three alphas piled around you and Jin working to groom you clean and satisfactory. All of you smell warm and safe and happy.

“How did the meeting go?” Hobi's voice is crackly from disuse, from all that growling. Jin stills, and you sense that some sort of conversation is happening over your head. You’re too tired to figure it out- Content to doze.

“They weren’t happy,” Namjoon says. Your pack omega hums, soothing, and someone combs through your hair, you nudge Namjoon’s fingers with your nose and he keeps talking. “I really really wanted to quit outright but then they asked me what was the minimum amount of work I’d stay on for even just for the short term and-”

Namjoon pauses, sighs, starts again.

“I’ll go in 2 days a week, offer a second opinion on cases remotely when I can, I know it’s not what we hoped for but it’s still a lot better than almost 6 days a week.”

You wrap your arms around Namjoon’s waist and go back to sleep. already dreaming about how how good it's going to be to have your alpha here all the time- every day with you and Tae Tae and Jinnie and-

You doze going in and out of sleep falling back off again just as quickly as you came up. You sense you're missing time, falling in and out of sleep too quick.

One moment he's not there and then the next he is.

Yoongi.

You know he must have been there for longer, must have been there for closer to a few minutes than a few seconds. All you can do is hold onto his sleeve, it must be a dream- because in real life Yoongi is still mad at you and wouldn't let you cling to his front like this. You keep your eyes closed, keep your nose buried in his throat. You don't want to wake up.

You can feel his words against your front as he carries you upstairs, "Which bubble bath? Bubblegum or unscented?"

"Unscented please baby, I can do it if-" whoever's talking breaks off.

"It's okay, I've got her. It's not like she's going to let go of my shirt anytime soon anyways, but maybe- the bath?"

Namjoon is close, a hand on your back, offering his strength incase Yoongi needs help carrying you. "I've got it."

Yoongi says something, and your pace changes, he bobs a little as he carries you up the stairs.

You can't stay awake no matter your best efforts as you're carried up and up and up. Namjoon and Yoongi and everyone close. Everyone is there on the fringes of your awareness. The sound of sloppy slow kisses and running water lulls you to sleep peacefully. For a second you think you feel something against your hairline. You think you hear a murmur. But it's probably just a dream.

A really good dream.

(Probably)

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Notes:

Weird take but i actually love the near even split in the first few lines of the chapter where hobi and the m/c are kinda like- going back and forth between each of their perspective. like i think it gives a very nice contrast of what they're both going through. this background came about while i was editing because i felt lik the chapter was missing stuff without it.

i think this chapter started to touch on a very real fear alot of people have when they come out of abusive relationships- that they will somehow end up emulating their abusive partners because they once rationalized their behavior as normal- the m/c gets this and is trying to change her behavior- or at least not act a certain way. she does not want to manipulate them into not being angry at her.

"walk him like a dog"- jin probably.

i do not think that the m/c falls into puppy space along with hobi, like it's just omegaspace, but i do think that it's cute that she tries so hard to be like him.

in my mind the pack have realized by now that the m/c is very very good at riding cock- like not to brag or anything but i bet she's a pro- they've gossiped and talked about it and gushed about it to each other enough times that when namjoon and jimin and jin hear that she rode hobi they are /very/ jealous- because they do not ask her to do it often simply because she does not like being on top enough. And her pleasure >>> their pleasure.

For some reason this chapter had a higher than average score on grammarly for correctness? but i feel like some of the language in it is just a little jerky? It is what it is but idk why i grammarly's score never makes sense. I usually aim for mid 80's, but this was in the small 90's. I rely on it alot because of my dyslexia.

Namjoon- asking questions, m/c- but what if i bit you instead????

Don't tease me about my size kink or i'll cry, i know i use the word little too much but listen!!! i love it!!! too much! i wish i could get fucked by a 6'7' alpha with a coke bottle cock and thrown around like a little treat. most of my kinks are not about the actual kink but more about the trust and protectivness aspect of it. i just love the idea of fucking someone who is just so physically in control but gentle anyway that i don't have to think about it.

my main issue with this chapter is that honestly? no smutt needs to be this long like what the fuck-

honestly i think that the m/c goes into a bit of a subdrop there after she cums untouched or just from having her clit kissed by minnie, but everyone else remedies it. i also think that it shows how good of a dom jin is- that he's so easily able to pivot once she starts to go into subdrop.

Are you guys tired from reading all that? i know i'm tired? honestly that felt like three seperat chapters- gangbangs are so hard to write i swear to god i need such a break after that

the words cummies stayed in the final draft mostly because i am just a weak little bunny and i wanted to include it- you can't get that mad at me because it's only there once.

💜💜💜

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.65)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.

Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,

W/c: 15.0k

A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.

The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.

Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.

God does she know it.

She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.

Red is better color.

She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.

But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.

She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.

Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.

She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.

She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.

“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”

Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.

Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.

A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.

Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.

She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.

Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.

She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.

Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.

She sighs. Alphas and their messes.

In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.

Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.

That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.

She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.

She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.

The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.

He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.

Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.

This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.

Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.

She looks at the flame, sparking.

“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.

Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.

She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.

This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.

And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.

Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)

She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”

“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.

“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”

~-~

(Now, Namjoon)

Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.

It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.

He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.

No.

Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.

Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.

He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.

He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.

Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.

The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.

There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.

"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.

It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.

This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.

If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.

Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.

Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-

Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.

They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.

Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.

He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:

Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).

It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.

"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.

"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.

He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.

Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.

"I need you to promise."

Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.

"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"

"Just promise."

"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.

"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."

"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.

"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."

Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.

“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.

“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.

Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.

Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.

“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”

It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.

“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."

Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.

It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.

Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.

Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.

He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.

Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,

Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.

You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.

Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers. 

He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.

Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)

You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes. 

But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.

You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.

Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.

To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.

He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path. 

Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.

An alpha. An alpha hunting.

You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.

He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.

His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.

“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.

“I mean it. Never.”

He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.

After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat. 

Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.

“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.

Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.

He's never going to hurt you. He promised.

He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.

You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.

But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.

“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces." 

"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"

"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."

"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"

Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."

You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.

"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."

"What the fuck-"

Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"

Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"

There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually. 

You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.

You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.

"Shit are you okay?"

"Pup?"

"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.

Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.

"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.

When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.

"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."

"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.

"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."

Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.

"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."

You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.

You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”

“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.

Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.

If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.

“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”

Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.

“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.

"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”

Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.

“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."

Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”

“Oh my god daisy-”

You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."

Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”

Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”

"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.

"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“

Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”

“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.

“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."

You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."

Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."

“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.

The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."

Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.

"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"

Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.

You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"

“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."

The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.

Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.

Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.

“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”

Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.

He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.

“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”

Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.

“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”

“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"

“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.

Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."

Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.

Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.

"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."

Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.

"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.

Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"

Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."

"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."

"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."

"You mean-"

"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."

"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"

“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”

You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."

"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."

Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.

Maybe if he had, things would go differently.

A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."

Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”

Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.

"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.

“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“

"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.

You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.

“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”

(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)

Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”

You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”

“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."

"You've never said-"

Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."

You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.

You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.

You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.

“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"

You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”

Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.

“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"

There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.

Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.

Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.

To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.

The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.

Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.

Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.

Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.

To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.

But another woman? Even one like that?

Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.

It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.

But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.

Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.

By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.

~-~

(18 hours later, Jimin)

Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.

Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.

He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.

Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.

Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.

Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.

At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.

But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.

When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.

The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.

He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.

A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.

It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.

And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.

To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.

Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.

Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).

“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.

"Pup told me everything."

Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.

Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.

"It's okay,"

"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"

That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.

For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.

But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.

Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).

In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.

Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.

It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.

Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."

"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"

Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.

(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).

It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.

It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.

How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.

They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.

Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.

“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”

Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."

It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.

“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”

“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.

Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.

Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"

"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).

“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”

Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."

“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.

"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”

“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”

Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.

“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.

"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”

She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.

“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”

Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.

It stays there.

~-~

The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:

There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.

Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.

There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.

The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.

“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.

Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.

But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.

Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.

They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.

Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.

The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;

Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.

Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.

Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.

Once they're gone, other promises get made:

“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”

“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”

“I can ask some of my contacts-“

“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”

“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”

“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”

In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.

"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.

"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.

(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)

You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.

They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.

It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.

“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.

Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"

"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-

"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).

“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.

"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.

There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.

The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."

You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.

“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.

He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.

“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.

Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.

“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.

“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”

“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”

You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”

But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.

What's more intimate? Sex or murder?

He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.

“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.

Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.

You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.

No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.

"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.

You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.

Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.

You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.

Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.

The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.

It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.

Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.

“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.

You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.

“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.

You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.

Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.

Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”

Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”

“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.

that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.

the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.

It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.

“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.

Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.

It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.

Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.

"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.

You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."

Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"

You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."

Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.

If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.

But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"

You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.

"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.

He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.

There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.

"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.

You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.

"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.

Probably.

"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)

“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”

"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.

You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.

Noodle stops his chomping.

The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.

You freeze where you stand.

The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.

And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.

Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.

It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.

Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.

You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.

Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.

Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.

The danger is all in your head.

Only it's not,

Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.

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Notes:

There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.

in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.

i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.

on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?

this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.

when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.

it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.

Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3

In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.

although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!

i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.

i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.

i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?

i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.

oh~ shits about to go down~

Mini-Playlist

Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)

Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)

JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)

Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).

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from eden | myg + jhs

you’ve been in the dark a long time, overworked and exhausted. the only bright point is your gatekeeper, hoseok, your closest friend and the man you love but can’t have. you’ve accepted that loneliness is inevitable for you. when a voice calls to you, though, and moves you so deeply that you rip open the earth to help them, you meet a mint-haired boy that changes everything you thought you knew about your prison. | monsters and gods pt 1 (masterlist)

pairing | yoongi x reader x hoseok

genre/warnings | greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, fluff, angst, smut, mild depictions of violence, mentions of blood (well, blood equivalent, bc gods), pining, depictions of abusive parenting, v v brief panic attack (seriously, I don’t go into a ton of detail, but it’s enough, pls don’t read this if that triggers you at all), love triangle (kind of), polyamory, , mutual masturbation, oral (female receiving), face-sitting, fingering, dick-riding, double penetration, unprotected sex (gods can’t get sti’s but u can! Wrap it b4 u tap it!), creampie, everyone hates Zeus but what’s new, demeter sucks and is the literal worst

word count | 15.6k | cross posted to ao3  monsters and gods masterlis

a/n | hello! i’ve renamed this fic at least ten times, but it’s here!! the first part of monsters and gods!!! i keep seeing hades!yoongi (who i LOVE, don’t get me wrong, seriously you should check out @/seokoloqy’s hades yoongi fics because they’re PHENOM) and while I love hades yoongs, I also keep seeing him in flower crowns and being soft and sweet and, as we know by now, I am ultimately a slut for soft bangtan. so this happened. and then i thought ‘wow this mc is dark af i need some contrast here’ and that’s how thanatos hobi happened, also i couldn’t stop thinking of his Judgement Face, which is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and how fast he switches between that and his smile, plus…..sope, I mean. c’mon. sope. and then it all kinda spiraled into a whole series of fics, only one other of which is even started tho its close to being finished whoops lmao so yeah!!!! pls tell me what u think, i’m not used to writing angst at all, so it may not be suuuuuuper prevalent in this, but i tried!!! also i really recommend listening to hozier while you read it bc i had his first album on repeat while writing it and from eden fits this pretty well imo!!!

It’s dark when you open your eyes. You’ve spent so long down here, you’re used to it, but the shadows always seem to make the air colder than it should be. Though you suppose the land of the dead isn’t supposed to be warm.

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some of my favorite moments of yoongi pushing his hair back at d-day tour concerts 😳 (cr. taee and jimimn) HAPPY YOONGI DAY ♡