Min Yoongi Fic - Tumblr Posts

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 56)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: In the wake of Namjoon’s rut you and Hobi try to get yourself back on even footing, if only his co workers weren’t so…creepy towards you. 

Tags: Depression, anxiety, ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, excessive babying, courting, omegaspace, mommy kink, Mommy! Tae, nipple play, m/c sucks on tae’s tits for mental health reasons, Non-detailed sexual content, mentioned omegaspace sex, discussions of past abuse, discussions of mental health issues, eating disorder recovery, implied self-harm

W/c: 9.7k

A/N: LISTEN, i know the nipple play stuff might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it reads very comforting if you’re willing to give it a chance. That being said it may go further into the realm of mommy kink than some of you are willing to go and toes the line into extreme kink as it highly sexualizes Tae’s brests and the m/c in omegaspace. It’s not really nursing per say cuz there isn’t any milk involved, but the m/c does suck on tae’s breasts to soothe herself.  

I tried to make it as ‘skippable’ as possible it’s under the section ‘Tae, sometime at night’  I firmly encourage you to skip it if you feel the need too.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

(16 days post rut. The day after Halloween, Yoongi)

Yoongi lets out an inhuman screech. 

Keep reading

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Before I Leave You Pt.57

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You, Hobi, and a dead body are not things that Jin wants to think about in the same sentence.

Tags: Limited Horror, limited Gore, panic attacks, breakdowns, unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol, drinking to forget, trauma, trauma bonds, Namjoon has dad energy and daddy energy, overprotective behavior, babbying, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, implied/referenced passed trauma, Short smut sections, tae’s dick is briefly referred to as a clit, trans! tae, role playing, wlw, brief virginity play, brief mention of spanking, unintended voyeurism, 

W/c: 7.7k

A/N: Ahhhhh I wasn’t happy with this chapter for the vast majority of me writing it, my life is about to get very stressful very quickly so don’t be surprised if i go mia for a few days <3 any love you can throw my way this next week will be!!! very very needed and welcome!

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

It’s nearing 5 am and the sun is only just rising.

The fog hangs over the crashing waves like a heavy shroud, reflecting the flashing blue and red lights harder, making them more vibrant. The ocean Turns deep and angry as the low tide shifts. Loud and blocking out the sound of everything, even the sirens and commotion of no less than 3 dozen FBI agents, about 8 different medical personnel, and 3 very disgruntled police officers.

You, Hobi, and a dead body are not things that Jin wants to think about in the same sentence.

Keep reading

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Before I Leave You (Pt.61)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: 3 times you ask for help from the pack, and 3 times help is given.

Tags: Talk of trauma, Brief discussions of animal cruelty (not noodle), philosophical discussions, therapy talk, anxiety, non-sexual subspace, omegaspace, dom! Tae, mommy kink, trans! tae, brief sexual content, hints of free use, Assassin! Jimin, referenced crime, violence, possessive behaviors, nesting, biting,

W/c: 11.9k

A/n: I've made a little birthday list through amazon just like i did last year! although my birthday isn't until the 15th Thank you guys for always loving me and supporting me even when i'm not being the most productive. I hope this next year means i get to write for you guys more and more <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

In the darkness of the library room, you place a hand over your heart and feel its thunderous pace.

Alone in the midmorning hum, you sit on the floor. Trying to ease the ache there on your own before you go and try to get someone else to do it for you. Trying your hardest because now that you know how to try, you just can’t stop.

You have been to exactly 4 therapy sessions. And it’s already starting to help.

Your voice is soft and squeaky. The words are only for you. Eyes screwed shut tight. The same way someone would make a wish on birthday candles.

“You’re going to be so brave, even if you’re scared. You can be as scared as you want so long as you’re brave too.”

These are words you speak to yourself and for yourself. Syllables are shaky and voice warbly with the effort it takes to say them, but they do not fall on deaf ears, because the world Is listening.

Your heart doesn’t beat any slower, ignoring your demands. The world doesn’t spin any slower either. Trying is so scary.

Tae’s printer tucked beside her desk stops printing the dozen or so pages with a happy jingle. Maybe you should have just filled it out online. You thought it would be easier to have it laid out in front of you but now the walls of text just make you feel all the more intimidated.

Jin looks so simply capable of standing there by the kitchen sink, spending a little bit of extra time on deciding the dinner menu tonight because he simply has the time today. It's the first time he's had time to do something like this in a while.

He Looks at your fridge and debates a trip to H-mart. It’s kind of fun when the whole pack decides to go food shopping together. And since your bad day, he hasn’t had the chance to drag you along.

Jin thinks of hunting, of wolves running in a v. the modern version of it is the pack spread out working together to fill their carts. You and Tae taking everyone’s boba and pastry order and waiting in the long line at Tous les Jours, probably convincing her with puppy eyes to get one of the smaller cakes because they just look so pretty.

Namjoon will handle the fish and meat because he likes doing it. Hobi and Jimin will raid the snack aisle and get too many different kinds of gummies that Jin can’t really be mad over because the gummies are his favorite and they’re getting them for him. Jungkook will handle the sauces. He thinks of standing side by side with Yoongi as they bicker overproduce. The perfect way to spend a Sunday.

But Jiminie doesn’t always like going on Sundays- since it can get a little crowded. And to have any of them even a little bit upset doesn't fit with Jin's vision. Maybe if they just go a little bit later.

He hums to himself, oblivious to his audience. Adding things to his list that he sees missing.

The line on the floor sits, blue painter’s tape that seals him off from you. It still feels a little bit dangerous to toe along it even if he’s there. Rules are rules and Jin will make sure you follow them.

Jin’s a far cry from his usual put-together exterior, the hair on the back of his neck all pushed up not like someone had run their fingers through it or like he’s been tugging at it, uselessly stressed.

He doesn't mix his work and home life, and neither does Yoongi. It's a part of the uneasy truce they've struck. If they just don't talk about this, maybe it will go away. But occasionally the stress from it just seeps in like this.

He hasn’t had much time to himself recently, and even less time to spend with the pack. Jin has been dragged away every morning this week for early work meetings and made to stay late for briefings. He’d apologized for it profusely after getting home at 10 p.m. last night, but it wasn't the first movie night missed.

Namjoon was absent too, for a late surgery that dragged on and on. No one had been there to stop Jimin, Jungkook, and Hobi from wrestling each other a little too roughly. Or stop you and Tae from engaging playfully in a pillow fight. Yoongi’s too soft to be so contrary when the pups just want to have fun.

20 minutes ago the rest of the pack dragged him out of the nest and into the shower together. Under the guise of truly testing out every showerhead in the massive shower that Yoongi had constructed, "you mean you've never turned all of them on at once?"

"that wastes water!"

You'd declined, mostly because hobi was already in the bathroom with Namjoon, undressing, and certain things are meant for later.

mumbling that you wanted to go find Jin, and taken those few minutes to do this. You thought you heard some moaning from upstairs, and the sweet scent of your packmates says they're getting up to something. you probably have an hour until they're done.

Jin hadn't waited for the rest of the pack to wake to start the day, you wonder what stress woke him up early. You wish the distance didn’t make you feel guilty, but it does. You know that Jin’s not taking a step from your relationship. It’s just work, right? Jin’s not doing it on purpose.

Or is he?

The second you stand up to the doorway you wish you hadn’t, that you’d done this and just filed away the separate shame of not being enough just in case. The fear of rejection hangs like a low-forming cloud. Being brave is so hard.

It’s okay, maybe you shouldn’t take it personally. You’re hardly the most important person or the person Jin should make time for. He turns, eyebrows raising at you in the door, mouth hidden by the paper. Eyeing you expectantly. Your voice feels quieter, more strained than usual.

“Can I have your help with something?”

That’s how you and Seokjin end up sitting at the kitchen counter for the better part of the morning. H-mart and groceries forgotten, pouring over papers, lists, and deadlines written out in Seokjin’s neat script and your messy scrawl.

His hand presses between your shoulder blades, an affectionate touch. “I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” It doesn’t feel like he should be, because there are facts on the paper, dates, and thresholds that you know you just don’t meet. You twist your fingers over your lap.

“I should have thought about this at the beginning of the summer, I feel like I’ve already run out of time, now I’m gonna have to wait for next semester and-”

Namjoon makes a noise in his throat, stepping into the kitchen. Namjoon’s hair is wet and spikey, his body languid in that relaxed alpha way as he stoops to press a kiss to the back of your head and then Jin’s.

You fear you’re seconds away from the kitchen being inundated with packmates and you haven’t even talked to Yoongi about this. You almost want to cover up the sheets of paper and disappear. You feel approximately 2 inches tall when Namjoon’s eyes survey the mess.

“What’s this?”

Namjoon smells like nest-making, like the pack's pleasure, and it makes you shiver in your seat, all tingly. He smells similar to how he smelled a few nights ago;

After nest-making had finally gotten easier. after you'd finally started to get better, you and the other omegas had finally returned to your usual ritual.

Soft pushes at each other’s shoulders and sleepy scent marks over pillows with just Jungkook and Jin felt good while the others got ready for bed. Accompanied by the sound of Tae humming in the dressing room. The soft voices of Namjoon and Jimin as they chit-chat and brush their teeth.

Hobi watches, gaze darting away when he's caught staring, while he waters some of his plants that you've moved upstairs. turning at every giggle and purr. He watches as Jungkook bites the side of your shoulder, fingers skimming up your stomach to the bottom of your ribs, bare beneath your extra large t-shirt, you're not wearing much underneath. He stares too long, and his monstera overflows, watter dripping onto the floor.

"Shit-"

The curtains are drawn tight. The low alpha rumble of them excites your instincts; humming safe and protected. Humming see alpha, see what we can do for you as they wait to be invited into the nest. yoongi raises his eyebrows at hobi where he sits on the edge of the nest.

You and the other omegas are giggly and a touch closer to omegaspace than you usual. Fingers teasing at the expensive and new nesting materials but not lingering long on them when you have your pack, so close and underfoot. It's rare that you're all down at the same time.

The touches to each other's tummies make you feel softer and fuzzier. Nuzzling along the divots of Jungkook’s, nibbling when you can find something to get between your teeth. Jin’s is pillow soft and squishy like a marshmallow. And you rub your face into it over and over again, trying to get as much of your scent on him as possible, whining when it's just not enough.

“You like my stomach almost as much as the alphas do” Jin had teased, fingers dancing along your spine. His cheeks pink where Jungkook had actually bitten them, all of you are a little bitey.

“Can’t help it- so ’soft.” You’d slurred, half drunk on his pheromones.

Yoongi had waited patiently, eyes darker and warmer on you and Jin as you'd whined. But he'd been the first to be incorporated into the careful rings of fabric. His body arranged once you deemed the nest ready for packmates.

All of your hands lingering over him: his pink knees, his big hands, the curl of his too-long hair at the nape of his neck. Jungkook hummed and tugged at his pants until he shucked those off too. Fresh claiming marks sucked to his thighs, the same treatment that each of your packmates gets when your omegan instincts are roused.

Hobi had even tolerated your fussing with a small smile, when you’d nosed along his collar bones, ramrod straight and let you tug his sweatshirt off for yourself. Namjoon had kept you on a tight leash, fingers scruffing you. when you'd squirmed closer, "Alright, I think this nibbling has gone far enough."

Pheromones thick and comforting, You’re not the only one a little obsessed with Jungkook’s and Jin’s stomachs, for some reason it gives you pause, when you watch him lying prone, watching as Tae mouths at his stomach shirt pulled up, Namjoon letting out these little grumbly purrs.

Once Jin had elected that he was done with nest making, he’d nosed along your shoulders, pulling each of you down for a very thorough scent mark like he was verifying all of you were there, unharmed and happy before he’d been able to fall asleep. You’d curled up close by the wall feeling safe.

You hadn't been awake to year Namjoon and Yoongi's quiet conversation, "do you think this could be pre-heat?"

yoongi's pout had been a little too sullen, a reminder that as much as he's your mate, there are still things he doesn't know about you- what heat and pre-heat looks like one of them. you still haven't gone into heat, even though your last healthcheck went through without pause.

"i don't know. there's still Jin and Jungkooks skipped heats too- maybe its going to happen slowly." namjoon had just pet over the top of your head, "if it is, we'll be ready for it." you'd continued to sleep on, unaware and safe.

But the way that Jin’s looking over the papers is not safe, your anxiety climbing higher and higher. Especially when Namjoon picks up the tuition sheet.

Namjoon’s throat is thick with pride, this this is exactly the kind of thing that he’d been trying to suggest to Jin a few weeks ago. His eyes are a little shiny when he smiles at you. “We can help in any way you need.”

“It’s just community college Namjoon.” Namjoon leans in to kiss your cheek, the warmth under his lips foretelling your embarrassment. You are embarrassed to be seen trying. Embarrassed at the idea of failure.

“But still- we can help with tuition.” Namjoon is filled with glorious purpose, none of his pups will want for anything, and this is a real plan for the future. He's about ready to write a recommendation letter himself.

“Ah” you blink, “I can pay for it myself- Yoongi and I have-”

You were worried about this; talking about it. Acknowledging the elephant in the room. The reason why you and Yoongi don’t have day jobs, is what your blood and years of pain paid for.

“Nonsense- we can loan you the money. If that’s what you're worried about,” Namjoon is already considering this another cost of being a pack alpha, and it’s not even that much, the tuition honestly isn't expensive, at least not to Namjoon. Sure- he might not go around buying you nesting pods any time soon but this is important. This on paper in front of you, is a hint at a real future.

You press your hands flat across the counter, unable to meet his eyes. “No- what I’m saying is I don’t need you to.”

That prompts an entirely different kind of questioning. Namjoon and Jin pour over the documents that Moonbyul had dropped off what feels like months ago along with Hobi’s car. The documents that you’d shoved in the back of a closet are now under scrutiny. Routing codes and account numbers for a set of Swiss bank accounts with dizzying balances. Deeds to houses on the other side of the country and the globe.

Jin looks them up on Zillow just to know how much they’re worth. His mind reeling with the number of attached zeros. The penthouse, the brownstone, the beach house that you’ve never been to off the coast of some foreign country (is Mykonos in Greece or Italy?). The numbers scrawled on napkins add up.

By the end of it, Jin’s hair is more than pulled through. Plush lips pursed and bitten. As far as he can tell this is all by the book, these assets do not belong to the criminal empire but they do belong to you and Yoongi. Jin's FBI brain just can't shut off, not now and not ever.

The truth is, this is more money than any of them have ever dreamed of having, even Namjoon- who makes well into the 6 figures. This is enough money for everyone in the pack to quit their jobs and retire. They probably wouldn't ever run out even if they were foolish with the money, but even then it might last until they're 50.

He gestures at Namjoon wildly. “You need to quit your job,” you sip at the lemonade that Namjoon got up to get you a few minutes ago.

Nodding, teasing. “Yeah Joonie, become my live-in alpha, stay home with me like Taetae does now.”

Your and Yoongi’s accounts are mostly joint, the loose division between Geumjae's multi-million-dollar life insurance policy payout and Yoongi’s inheritance of the min family fortune only in mind mostly. But you’re on each other’s accounts as mates anyway.

Jin should have known, he knows Yoongi paid for the house in cash.

Namjoon laughs, dimples flashing, stooping to kiss your forehead. “You’re supposed to be my sugar baby.”

“We can trade off and on if it makes you feel better.”

~-~

It’s a soft night when you seek Jin out next. The blinds are drawn against the streetlights outside. The cul-de-sac is empty except for Noodle, hunting little mice in the brush. Inside the house with lip-up yellow windows, the pack is in various spaces of dress and undress, asleep and awake.

The one consistency as always, is the love.

The last time you checked, most of the pack was in the back room. Jin had unanimously decided for all your sakes that Jungkook's video games should go back there, the farthest away from the stairwell where sounds have a habit of echoing. Where their shouts and cries of dismay will not disturb the rest of the pack quite so much.

When you last peered in, Jungkook had Yoongi in his lap and Jimin and Tae were screaming and bickering over the right way to play something called prop hunt. Hobi reigns victorious with a green controller held over over a bowl of popcorn balanced between his crossed legs. They don't always do this, and you're resistant to sour their time with your lack of knowledge and lack of interest.

Namjoon is passed out upstairs, tired from his surgery today; a marathon 14-hour one to detangle a tumor from a patient's brainstem. Luckily successful or else Namjoon might have been weighed down by something more than just exhaustion.

You’d gone up there briefly to shower with him because he honestly needed someone to make sure he didn’t fall asleep in the shower but he’d been adamant that he didn’t need help. You’d asked ever so sweetly if you could do it with him for company. You missed out on the pack shower yesterday you whine, Namjoon has a hard time saying no when you pout.

Namjoon was too tired for anything salacious in nature and also too tired to protest against some grooming. You’d made him sit on the bench along the wall and washed his hair and body. Groaning and resting his head against your chest where you’d stood between his legs. He’d collapsed into bed so tired he could hardly mumble a thank you, but you’d still bent over and kissed his head before joining the others downstairs.

It felt good, to take care of him a little. Dr.Rima suggested that you make a bit more effort to spend time one-on-one with your packmates, and it’s been mostly a good thing.

You know soon you’ll all be up there. Cuddled to his chest probably, tired Joonie cuddles are the best when he lays all soft and heavy without worrying that he's going to crush you. But not yet. You’re not looking for the others shouting in the other room, you’re looking for a different sort of company.

Jin is in the living room, his glasses down on the edge of his nose as his eyes indulge in a copy of psychology today. There are several pages already flipped down and bookmarked already. You stand in the hallway. The pajamas you wear are some of the first Jin and Namjoon ever gave you, the white top and bottom dotted with red hearts.

They used to look so pristine and clean but love and time have done its damage. There’s an orange stain on the middle from some tomato soup a few weeks ago, and the bottoms are a little discolored from a late-night trip to the beach that left the hem soaked deep with sand. Even though the pajama set has seen better days, the non-irritating crepe fabric is worn in all the right places and it's still your favorite.

All things given with love eventually wear out (to love it to be changed) so you won’t be too upset about it. At first, you think that Jin doesn’t notice that you’re standing there, that you’re watching him, but he wordlessly holds out an arm without looking up from his magazine.

You collapse with him onto the couch. Lining your bodies up your bare ankle hits his. A small purr builds in his chest as a sleepy hello. “The others are being noisy,” you complain, it’s true, from here you can hear Hobi shout something like “hyung that is so not fair-“ and Jungkook shrieking “Kill him!! Kill him!!!”

“Want me to make them quiet for you sweetheart?” He asks, kissing your cheek softly. He shifts his position so that he can hold the magazine with just one hand and his other can stroke up and down your arm. Encircling your body in one smooth movement. You don’t pay the copy of Psychology Today much mind.

“No, just want to be quiet with you.” You stretch out and Jin parts his legs for you to recline into him. Letting out a small heavy breath when you lie your weight against his chest nosing at his throat. He continues to read in silence while you nose at his throat, mouthing sleepily and pupish at his scent gland.

He makes a noise, legs stretching out properly. But he has no other reaction until you ask, “What are you reading?”

Jin lets out a heavy breath, and the pages make a fluttering sound, “A debrief of a study that happened before pesky things like ethics was involved with psychological testing," You huff a soft laugh against this chin and Jin rests his cheek against the top of your head.

"It’s a little heavy, but I think you'd actually find it interesting because of-" Jin breaks off, and that word, the dirty one, therapy, hovers on the edge of his tongue. He looks back at the magazine and shifts you more properly on top of his chest. Your hand's toy with the button on his sleep shirt, undoing it and then another one. "Want me to read it out to you?”

You peck below his chin on his neck, and you can feel Jin’s body twitch beneath you, his hand going a little firmer. "Sure, just not the whole thing” The words on the page are small small. "You can just tell me what it’s about if that's easier."

Having you suck at his scent gland is distracting, and Jin’s voice goes a little deeper as you continue to lavish it with little kisses. the tops of his ears heating as he talks. Jin's neck has always been sensitive.

“In a time before ethics in the 1950s, in an effort to quantify willpower, a psychologist out of John Hopkins conducted an experiment on rats.”

You continue to kiss, and suck, teething on his neck, all cuddled ontop of him. Only half paying attention to what he’s saying, your hips shifting to nestle one of his thighs between. Not pressing down, not just yet.

“There were two test groups. The first group of rats was left in approximately 12 inches of water and left to drown."

You stop your shifting, pulling back a little to look at Jin, but he keeps reading. Lips carving the words roughly from the air in summary. Attention fixed on the paper in front of him, eyebrows pulled together.

“The average rat could only last around 30 minutes before drowning but-“ Jin swallows, and you feel it against your throat. “If the testers took them out just before they lost energy and dried them off…If they gave them a moment to rest, something to eat, before putting them back in the water they’d last hours longer. Sometimes a full day before eventually scumming.

"This only led them to one conclusion: If the rats believed they were going to be saved again they would try longer to survive, tapping into a hidden source of willpower. Hope has a dirastic increase on survival rates.” He still hasn’t looked at you. Index finger sliding over the last paragraph.

He continues to read his magazine, a hand loosely wrapped around your waist. Palm rubbing up and down your back. You shrivel your nose at the paper, “It sounds cruel.”

“It was.”

You think of the rats, their dried fur, the hands that saved them, and the hands that hurt them. Indistinguishable from one another. You shiver. Jin doesn't look at you, still at the magazine.

“This article is trying to relate it to patient outcomes, especially when it comes to giving therapy to military members half way through deployment. It’s never been replicated; a lot of people don’t think it’s factual anymore.”

“What do you think?” Jin doesn’t turn to you, instead turning the page to another article, this one about new antipsychotics for schizophrenia.

“I think it’s hard to test for things like hope.”

You pause for a second and then continue to drag your lips up Jin’s throat, and the magazine lands with a flop on the floor all the stories about rats and dying things and both of Jin’s arms embrace you.

“I’m being terribly rude; I normally talk about all this stuff with Namjoon.”

You huff, smile pressed to his skin. It’s easy to forget about the rats when you’ve got him close and giving you his full attention now. You’ll think about it later you’re too sleepy now, a little scent drunk too. Jin’s body is comfy and soft beneath yours, you nuzzle closer, hair getting messed on account of the rigorousness of your scent marking.

You unbutton the last button on his sleep shirt and push it away so that you can loop your arms around his waist, and the next breath that fills Jin's diaphragm feels shaky. you like jin's chest, his stomach, theres something about cuddling close to him like this that makes you feel taken care of.

You don't know that Jin likes it when you touch him like this, with a certain level of entitlement. Of course, you're allowed to disrobe him on the couch, of course, his body belongs to you in this way. He's your pack omega for a reason, Jin's body and scent belong as much to you as any of the other packmates. Any of his packmate's wants will be handled just as routinely as this. If you want him bare, he'll undress for you right here.

It's a good thing that he closed the blinds earlier.

Your pout makes him want to give you everything, Jin's hands tighten on your waist, pulling the hem of your pajama shirt up too so that your bare stomachs can rest against each other. Fuck. something about this always makes Jin's skin feel hot and taught. “You are.” you whine, pecking his lips sloppy and needy, licking into them a bit, "make it up to me?"

Jin’s hands go hard on your back, fluttering along your spine to the back of your neck. And his scent blooms sweet underneath you. “Ah Jungkook’s been rubbing off on you. My spoiled spoiled little pup.”

Jin’s hair against your neck tickles and you giggle as he pulls you more firmly on top of him, after the first kiss you’re not thinking about him ignoring you in favor of reading, and after the 5th you don’t even remember what the article was about.

You’ll think about it later, for now, the scent of the two of you sweetens in the room. Until it fills the house, so sweet that even Namjoon upstairs stirs, growling softly.

You'll think about it later.

~-~

Your therapy days have become something of a celebration. Is it weird that you're surprised by that? Of course, the pack would come to celebrate you getting better. Of course they would linger and reward you for trying to hard.

They’ve always liked to make big things out of small ones. Your therapy sessions have become mini-impromptu dates. Each of them takes their time and their day to take you.

It’s important to prioritize one-on-one time in large packs. To still date even when they’re very little wooing left to do. Even if everything sort of feels like a date with them. the intention is different when you name it.

They take their turns going with you. Namjoon when he has a rare day off. To the botanical gardens after just to give you some reason to get out of the cold and into the humidity. You take Hobi back there when it’s time for your next one.

The gardens help keep any seasonal depression at bay, with all the trees skeletal and the sky grey more often than not. You go with Tae the next time and then to a bookstore after. You get a new notebook while she looks at the covers with wide beholden eyes.

Today, you don’t know if you’ll get something so sweet after.

Today doesn't feel like the rest of the therapy sessions. The sessions with Dr. Rima aren't always easy. You don’t know why this visit in particular has you anxious but it does. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, a vague tingle in your fingertips. You can't not think about it. It's a little maddening, feeling like you don't have control over your thoughts.

You get ready hours earlier than you need to because you need something to do. But then find yourself with nothing to do. Waiting. Pacing.

You pick at your nailbeds until they bleed. Bad, bad pup.

The breath in your chest is a little taught and tight, like an overfilled balloon. There is no one but Tae home today, although Jimin will be here soon to take you to your appointment. You don’t want to feel this way. But you don’t know how to solve it on your own. You don’t want to disturb Tae.

Tae being home all the time now has been a good thing generally. But it’s also been distracting for both of you. Why would you spend time helping Yoongi with the house when you can cuddle up with her in her library room or nest with her upstairs? Why would she spend her time writing when she's got you underfoot?

Yesterday you did just that, Until the little kisses sloppy kisses, and nervous touches turned less little and more lingering. Hands firm and possessive, although there was no one for Tae to possess you from. moving against each other until the seat of your pajama bottoms were soaked through with slick. Until Tae's fingers stopped rubbing over you, stopped teasing. Crooning, "Oh pup, let mommy fix it."

It was the first time since Jungkook and your little mishap, that you'd sought out sex from Tae. It left you feeling glowy and a little dumb. A little ravenous for her touch, you wince when you think of how demanding you'd gotten. Tae's knot had left you feeling sore in a good way. A faint tenderness between your legs tempts you again to nest the day away.

Baby steps. Dr. Rima reminded you last session.

But you know you distract Tae from her writing. She'd said as much, cuddled to the side, fingers tucked into your cunt not even fucking you with them, just holding you. Grinning dumbly. "If you don't keep this sweet little hole away from me, I'll never get anything done. I don't know how Yoongi does it."

After yesterday, you know that she wants to get some real work in. She'd left the breakfast table saying that much. You've heard her leave a handful of times since then. To get water or snacks.

It’s not always easy, going to therapy, not feeling upset about it or vaguely afraid. You thought the instinct against being vulnerable had been trained out of you by the pack. it's hard to unlearn old habits.

Part of you wants to run away from her, not towards her as you knock on the library door. There's a soft throaty noise that you recognize as Tae's, inviting you to come in. She clicks away on her computer, not looking up at you.

You stand there in the doorway rocking on your heels for a moment. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, and her headphones are off one ear. Sometimes she gets so into her writing that her music shuts off and she forgets to turn it on. There is no hum coming from them and yet, she does not turn to you when you stand in the doorway.

“Tae?”

She does not react, and your shoulders curl in, the ache of being a bother intensifying. Her clicking. You waiting. You wait until you can't any longer, the fear building-

“Mommy?”

Tae stops immediately, her wide brown eyes coquettish in how she looks at you (like she doesn’t know exactly what you want. What you need). Her eyes flick down to your knocking knees.

She opens her arms and you fall into her, quickly you rush to be enveloped by her touch. Needy. You are always so needy for her. With Tae, it's hard to be self-conscious about it.

Since she’s been spending so much time at home, she’s taken to wearing flimsy little nightdresses at all hours of the day. Today's dress is white with cream-colored lace, down to her knees, rucked up by your sitting. fuzzy slippers and a thick robe keep out the chill. She probably doesn't even realize that it's midday, as focused and as dedicated as she is.

"Ah, baby pup,"

You nuzzle into the collar where her robe has soaked up her scent more. You know she kinda misses getting ready every day, that she misses doing her makeup and leaving for work like the rest of them. You’d promised that you’d accompany her to a coffee shop one of the days this week that you didn’t have therapy. Just so that she could get out of the house.

All of this takes Adjustments. You’re both learning to ask for what you want and to endure what you know you need. Like the therapy sessions.

The clock says that you have exactly 2 more hours until you need to leave with Jiminie but he’s not home yet. He’s not home yet and neither is Yoongi but your brain is swimming. Knots in your tummy. You don't want to go but you don't want to not go either. You don't know how to stop feeling this way, so torn up about it.

You need a settling.

“I don’t want to bother you, if you want to go back to writing you can- I’ll just-"

Tae catches your chin in her manicured hand. “What do you need.”

It’s more of a command than a question. You sit there and Tae’s looking. Scrutinizing you, breaking you down with just a single look. Your arms tighten around her shoulders, clinging to her when it becomes clear your neediness hasn’t escaped her notice. This thing clawing at your chest to be settled, to be constrained, is something she can handle.

Your response comes out of you in a rush, a franticness to your scent that isn’t becoming of Tae’s softest little pup.

“Can you make my brain shut off please?”

half plea and half polite. Tae’s hand instantly laces through your hair, tugging hard. A taught whine bursts from you. Any other time you’d be ashamed of the noise you let out but she only purrs in contentment.

She pulls on your hair gently, making you arch your neck until you can't anymore like she's testing how far you're willing to contort your body to obey her touch. Teasing your shoulders apart, making you not hunch without you consciously deciding to shift your posture (one of these days, Jin and Tae are going to posture train you).

The kiss she plants in the hollow of your throat is nothing if not understanding. You're so pliant and malleable when you're overwhelmed. The breathless whine you let out is not sexual, there simply isn't room for any more wanting when the fullest breath of Tae’s dominance rushes over you like a wave.

Tae never raises her voice and never snaps. She doesn't need to to get you to do what she wants. She doesn't need to force it. Your eyes are glassy when she lets go, smiling down at you as her fingers linger over your lips before she cups your jaw, fingers pressing hard into the joint until it opens. There you go pup, breathe.

“I’m going to tell you what to do, and it’s your job to do as I say pup, do you understand?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“I don’t want to hear another word out of you that isn’t 'Yes Mommy' or 'No Mommy'. It’s not your job to speak right now.” That somehow, being given permission feels like a relief. That's why you're anxious, isn't it? You want to go non-verbal today, but can't because of the session. Tae gives you relief in the form of permission.

“Yes Mommy.”

“Good, now sit on the floor.” Your knees go weak before you even hear the full sentence, and she grabs your arms hard when you stop to drop. Making your descent more controlled.

“Wait,” you hold your breath while Tae stands, retrieving one of the pillows on the couch and setting it down for your knees. She really ought to have thought of this before and set up the dark alcove beneath her desk with something softer, a thick cushion (If only she had a pup bed for you). The space is dark and warm, next to the heater, you drop, and Tae scoots closer, hands still on your upper arms as she guides you.

“Rest your head on Mommy’s thigh, stay put and quiet until Minnie gets home. I’ll cuddle you when you’re done. To bring you back up”

Your lips form the words without you having to think them, your brain already fluttering down softly into a lower state of concern and anxiety. Rhere is nothing that matters but this, there is only her. Her hands haven’t really left your hair, long nails scratching dully against your scalp. “Yes Mommy.”

“What do you say.” Tae’s words are clean and precise. No mincing them as she holds your chin and makes you look at her, finger fluttering across your lower lip and freeing it from between your teeth. "If you need to bite something, bite me. Not yourself."

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“Good girl.”

You rest your cheek against Tae’s thigh, not peering up her skirt because you don’t think she’d allow you to. It’s hazy and soft here, in the quiet under her desk. The light is warm and so is this place. Her warm calf pressed to your front, your fingers grabbing blindly at the hollow of her knee, her foot just beneath you curled around her thigh.

She needs both hands to write but you wrap your arms around her leg. Smooth. Your fingers skim up and down the skin there hugging her to your chest weakly, resting your cheek on her thigh. “That’s a good pup get closer.”

Encouraged to cling You move until Tae's leg is pressed from your core to your chin, sideways between her thighs, resting your cheek on the edge of her skirt, between her hip and thigh, looking up at her. Just looking.

The hormone shots make Tae’s scent glands sensitive and swollen under your touch, and you’re brazen enough to lap at the ones on her thighs, soothing them. You can smell that they're hurting, somehow your instincts tell you. her scent only smells strange where where injects them, a little artificial, a little sour from the pain. but mostly it's just Tae.

Your fingers curling the hollow of her knees, breathing in deep. Your brain is a mess of mommy mommy mommy over and over again like a hymn and prayer. Her long manicured fingers press at your scalp scratching. And your eyelashes flutter shut.

"Is this good my love?” She asks hesitantly, if you were more aware you might hear a bit of insecurity in her voice. You can only whine in response.

There is only Tae, her clacking on her computer, backspacing a bunch, and then writing more. A quiet hum under her breath. And the occasional gentle pet over the top of your head when she reads through certain paragraphs and doesn't need the use of both her hands.

you don't know when you close your eyes or if you fall asleep, the state you enter is kind of like that, if dissociation could be pleasant, it feels like that. Honed in, every single one of your instincts with a laser focus on her, everywhere you touch, humming and alive and as necessary as the breath in your lungs.

Soft huffs of breath tease the hem of her skirt. And the next time you're aware, it's because there's another scent in the air.

Vanilla, the smoky sort coats your tongue, complimenting your mommy's scent so beautifully. Enough that your tongue sticks out between your pressed teeth to taste it in the air.

Alpha, another one, not your mommy is here and you tilt your face up and into the light. You hear the soft smacking sound of brief kisses, and then another hand on your head running through your hair, tugging you to look up at him. Tae taps your tongue playfully and you open your mouth, wanting to suck.

"Ah pup, you're too small for that right now," You look up.

Jimin has his hand softly tangled in Tae's hair, tentative- like the touch has been negotiated- like he's not sure he's allowed. Tae's scent has not sweetened, it hasn't even mellowed out.

Jimin blinks once, twice, and then a third time at the sight that he sees. Eyes wide and glassy, scent sweet, not in that pleasure or I’ve just cum way that’s semi-addictive to the alpha's. He rolls him roll his tongue against his teeth when he can scent it. This kind of pleasure is a different kind of fullness.

A happy shiver works its way up Jimin’s body, and Tae hums, she’s only used to seeing him shiver for her.

“You’re in no state to go to leave the house” but Jimin’s voice is not disapproving, if anything it’s honey velvet fond. Tae shifts back and you move with her, letting out a small whine at the sudden vacancy against your front where you’d been hugging her to your chest.

it’s easily extinguished when Jimin picks you up and places you on the couch where she’s waiting. Alpha's so good and strong, your instincts pur and Jimin freezes. He hasn't heard you purr so much as Tae has, as the others have. But it makes goosebumps rise on his arms.

You whine, squirming closer. When he supports you.

“Hold on pup,” but Tae is already smearing the scent blockers on. You whine, but you know she needs it if you want to be clear-headed by the time you have to leave. Scent drunk and pupish is not an adequate mindset to get the most out of therapy. And you're reminded of that by Jimin, that's why Alpha's here isn't he? That's why he's softly detangling your hair, asking you questions until you answer with more than mumbles.

Your hair has fallen over your face and jimin tries unsuccessfully to do more than tuck it behind your ear.

She laughs, and it's half real, "Minnie. Like this." Jimin flushes, but you sit, gladly made a puppet while she teaches him how to braid. over. under. Tae puts some distance between herself and you until the room has stopped spinning, until you stop smelling only alpha and other things too.

You're much more clear headed when Tae presses a glass of cold water into your hands. Jimin listlessly stimming up and down your arms, the gentle tugging making you blink back the haze. Still quiet, but mostly back to yourself.

Jimin puts you in Tae’s coat, one of the cute quilted ones with a floral outside, warm and snuggly. Tae kisses your flushed cheeks in the doorway, promising more of…whatever that was when you get home.

Jimin always smells so nice, a nice mixture of cigarette smoke, barely hidden and washed away, and his vanilla musk, warm against your nose. He buckles you into the front seat when you sit, leans over to kiss your temple, hand hovering on your knee.

Minnie has always been a touchy alpha and the drive to the therapist’s office is no different. He always gets so close when it’s just the two of you, like he no longer has the others to distract him or needs to make up the lack of protection with touch.

You are just as quiet as you are close on the way to therapy, Jimin's hand loosely twined with yours on the driver's seat. Your phone buzzes occasionally.

Kookoocachoo (3:22): Hey just realized, it might be easier for me to like meet you and Minnie there, rather than for Yoongi to come all the way here and pick me up from work like usual???

Yoomie (3:23): Are you sure? It's really no trouble.

Kookoocachoo (3:24): Yeah makes no sense, I can run it in like 15 minutes!

Jinnie <3 (3:24): Just be careful!

And then in your private chat, there is this:

Yoomie (3:27): Fuck must have just missed you.

Yoomie (3:27): just got home.

Yoomie (3:28): Make sure Jimin texts when you're on the way home.

You know that Yoongi feels like he needs to come with you to every session, but honestly it's okay. The quiet with Jimin. It's a little nice. Not nice in the way that you don't miss him (because you always sort of miss Yoongi, even if he's barely an inch away). But just like when it's just you and Yoongi when it's just you and Jimin; neither of you needs to pretend.

You (3:30): It's okay! Minnie will take good care of me.

You (3:30): See!

You send him a picture of your clasped hands, Jimin's face a little blurry from how much the car is moving.

Yoomie (3:30): Cute. Good 😚

Yoomie (3:31): Literally I can come to meet you. It's no trouble.

You (3:32): 😑

He leads you inside with his hand laced in yours. Jimin’s commanding aura directs other alphas into looking away when their gazes happen to stray to you. Staying close, scanning the crowd for potential threats, tugging you along with your hand behind him quiet.

You and Jimin are often quiet when you’re together, but it’s that kind of soft understanding silence. Jimin speaks with his body.

You’re quiet when he kisses your forehead when your fingers tangle loosely with his, his fingers listlessly stimming with yours tapping tap tap across your knuckles in the waiting room, taking your coat when you tug at the sleeves, small and overheated. Small, you have small hands like his but he likes it, he taps your knuckles and you tap his rings.

“I like this one,” you say in the quiet of the yellow waiting room.

“You do?” Jimin says, already planning on either buying you a matching one or wearing it more often. You tap it again.

But it’s comforting, the way his fingers tease at the hair at the edge of your hairline. Constantly touching you like he’s reinforcing the idea that you’re there still safe. The contact is just firm enough for any lingering fear to fade.

He gets more antsy when the time comes for you to go into the room with Dr.Rima. Just like Yoongi did, he won’t leave the waiting room for the entirety of your hour-long appointment. Jimin whips his hands on his black jeans as he stands and shakes Dr.Rima's hands.

“I’m sorry she might not be in the best-”

You bound up to Dr.Rima and hug her loosely around her waist, she recoils slightly, not upset, just surprised. Most of her omega patients go physically affectionate after a few sessions. Her eyes go wide as you start to prattle on about Tae. Taetae this and Taetae that.

“Oh!” but Dr. Rima isn’t at all upset that you’re a touch too close to omegaspace to have a coherent conversation. Even though Jimin apologizes again and grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you away. “That’s quite alright, I suspected something like this would happen since we talked about O.s. last session.”

Jimin lingers, worries over letting you go through the door. It only takes a few seconds in her presence for your brain to right itself. Beta- not your beta but a strange one. The pheromonal response is near instant. You step away, eyes more lucid, cheeks warming in embarrassment.

Dr.Rima laughs and Jimin can’t help himself either, an unwilling grin cracking his smile open.You apologize, but Dr. Rima just shakes her head and tells you there's nothing to be sorry for.

“It's not all that abnormal. A lot of omegas who have been in traumatic experiences fall into omegaspace abnormally often, like 30-40 percent more often than omegas who haven’t-”

~-~

After the therapy session, you’re much more clearheaded. You didn’t cry this time but then again you’ve only cried for half of them. It's a calm clean feeling. You find Jimin again in the waiting room, texting on his phone, you've got half a hundred unanswered notifications. The simple contact of a hello hug is just firm enough for the last bit of discomfort and anxiety you had to fade.

“Good?” he asks, low alpha growl soothing,

“Yeah” answer, the reassurance simple but enough. You have plans to meet up with Jungkook at the coffee shop across the street- not the one downstairs, separated by a narrow stretch of road that’s closed on the weekends for foot traffic.

It’s gotten colder in the time of your therapy appointment, and the wind rushes over you funneled down the narrow streets. The sweatshirt of Hobi’s you wear today is stiff and dark, non-descript. Jimin tugs you under his arm, even after he puts Tae's jacket back on you.

“They’d kill me if they saw you shivering.” You nuzzle closer. And you sense he’s burning with questions. He keeps them in until you're in line at the cafe. It's got a dark tile floor and a similarly dark interior, minimalistic and vaguely retro with a row of bar stools and a line of black pleather booths. A few people are in line in front of you and a few behind, no one who might matter overhearing.

“What do you talk about with her?”

“A lot of things, Geumjae mostly.” Jimin wilts a little. His eyes turning a little darker with shame. You wish you were able to more accurately predict his emotions and make the truth less lethal. But somehow, you think Jimin would know if you tried to lie, you won’t spare him honesty for guilt. That’s not a fair trade.

Your foot skitters across the tile. Kicking the rough edge uselessly before your feet. “It’s good to like, talk it out with someone who’s not you guys, mostly because I worry it burdens you.”

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it burden us?” you sigh, and you do not want to pull your punches.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you talked it out with Tae yet?” Jimin does not wince. Jimin just looks at you and hands over his black card to the barista.

“What do you want?”

“Just a latte,”

“A latte and a triple shot,” Jimin jabs a finger at the glass cage where they keep the pretty pastries, naming half a dozen things.

“I didn’t say I wanted one,” Jimin raises his eyebrow, and you melt a little into him. Because yeah, you want one even if you didn't say it, you're just being contrary.

Leaning, he takes your weight, guiding you to stand away from the counter when he takes his card back. To the barista, you must just look like any other clingy couple. Something about Jimin makes you forget that you have an audience. Something about Jimin makes it feel like it’s always just you. His fingers are calloused (probably from a gun) and cold from walking outside. Clutching your hand softly.

“Tae and I will talk.” He sighs, but it sounds like the truth. He sounds so sure of himself. “We will just- I can tell she doesn’t want to talk with me. I never want to do anything she doesn’t want to do. You get that right?”

You think about Jimin- everything he’s ever done, your afternoon in the backroom where he and you made the painting in Tae’s library room. How giving he was then and how giving he always is. Jimin gives and gives and now looking at him, the curve to his shoulders, you wonder what he feels like he has to make up for.

Why he can't be the one to ask? To make it better. You know it's probably just respect (respect for Tae's wants and needs) but maybe sometimes respect gives too much distance. Maybe there is no love without mutually assured destruction.

Maybe you shouldn't be so critical of him. He got you pastries, even though you didn’t ask, just in case you wanted them.

His eyes are downcast, and when your coffee comes out, he sniffs at it before asking. “Milk? Sugar?” He hands it over and takes it back after you’ve taken a sip.

“Yeah,” Jimin pops off the lid and sets it up, not letting you lift a finger. Hitting the packets against the counter to break them up. He rips the sugar packets with his teeth.

Jimin speaks more as he pours them out, “Even if she’s still mad at me, I’ll wait until not being mad at me is what she wants. I can handle her being mad and disappointed, what I can’t handle is her not loving me. If she didn’t care at all, I’d be more worried. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.”

“I don’t’ think this waiting is helping anyone.”

Jimin takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll talk to her, if you think I should. I’ll bring it up if you think I’m letting it stew too long.”

You nod and sip your coffee, your phone jingles, and you look at it, it's just Jungkook, letting you know he's leaving the gym now. The selfie of him makes you smile. The jingle of your phone is interrupted by a similar jingle. The door to the coffee shop opened.

When you look up you almost do a double take, but the face sinking through the crowd enters just like the winter chill.

Moonbyul is absent from her usual entourage, not Hyejin, wheein, or Solar. wearing a thick wool coat over a smart 3 peice suit. She smiles showing her teeth a little too much. your smile falls just as quickly.

"Minnie"

Jimin is not quick enough to stand before she's upon you. he's up and out of the booth before he even sees who and what is making you scared. Jimin stands and growls, the sound alerting a few of the other people in the coffee shop. But Moonbyul just tuts. "Down puppy."

You find yourself lost for words. especially when she slides in and sets her coffees down. barely two breaths and she's there smiling at you. Jimin sits next to you, tilting his body almost over yours.

A moment passes in the silence where you take her in.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me? No warm welcome this time?" Her smile is like that of a cat. She already has a coffee, two of them in her hands.

Something isn't right. Somethings wrong. You don't know what it is as you look up at her. You stay quiet.

"Aren't you going to invite me to sit?"

Your brain finally gets back online, through the roaring in your ears. your voice sounds strange. Professional even to you. "Somehow I think you will anyway."

She sits, and Jimin's body is taught like a rubber band waiting to snap. Hands under the table, glaring at her like he wants to kill her. He probably does. He's probably already planning it.

Think think think, come on.

“It’s nice to see you happy, though less nice that it’s not with us.” Moonbyul’s words are almost acidic in how she spits them. Bitter. More bitter than she should be.

You grip the sleeves of your sweatshirt for comfort and you watch her nostrils flare, you wonder if she can smell Hobi on it. Suddenly- you don’t like the idea that she might know his scent, that she’d know any of your pack’s scents. Tae's included. She'd scented you so heavily earlier there's no way Moonbyul doesn't smell her on you.

You still feel like a schoolgirl under her gaze. But you’re not the same shattered omega you were when you needed their help to survive. And that has never been clearer than right now.

(If you’re being honest. You never did need her help. yoongi is the one who made sure you survived, she's just the one who helped you get revenge)

“I am happy,” it’s a simple fact but it only seems to anger them more. as her smile falters.

“Bullshit” she says delicately. (Did the snake in Eden whisper or shout? To what voice and tone is temptation but this, an unwanted earworm.) She tilts her head. "If you were happy, you wouldn't need Sharon. Or should I say- Dr. Rima."

You go cold, dripping fear seeping down your back. You swallow back your questions. It doesn't surprise you, that was one of the things that Geumjae always coached you about- not going to the authorities, not saying anything to anyone who might talk. How long has she been in Moonbyul’s pocket is another question that you'll answer later.

You feel strangely hollow at the betrayal. Hollower still when she looks at you, smiling. red lips lifting. She can tell she's unnerving you. Beside Jimin, you quake. His hand goes firm on your wrist. Squeezing once before he lets go.

The click of a knocking pin on a gun is unmistakable. Jimin smiles, resting his chin on his right hand. You don’t need to ask what the other one is doing. How he got the gun out from where it was tucked in his waistband, his underarm saddles, or where it came from is inconsequential.

“Careful.” His voice is a lethal purr, the iris of his eyes glinting red from the Eddison bulbs over the countertop. Reflecting them. “I’ll take a lot of jabs lying down but a threat” Jimin murmurs. “That might make me angry.”

Moonbyul does not look unnerved by Jimin’s exterior the falling of his most delicate disguise. Jimin looks and smells lethal, but so does Moonbyul. “You seem to be enjoying the claws my organization awards you, remember who sharpens them will you.” She makes a flippant movement with her hands. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Bullshit” Jimin parrots, “she’s my omega.”

Moonbyul laughs at that, loud enough that it drags the attention to you from other tables. A small pup is sitting across the isle from you with it's parents, a fluffy teadybear onsie pulled around its wiggling feet. Babbling and waving its hands, excited and making eye contact.

Your hand finds Jimin’s under the table, hand on the gun, making him put it away. Desperate. “Not here Minnie. Not-“

“If anyone has a claim on her, it’s certainly not alpha trash like you.” You can sense Jimin’s anger growing thinner, the tether between action and complacency going taught. You make your eyes wider, your scent sweeter, furrowing your eyebrows at Moonbyul like you’re just some confused little omega pup. You know the effect your scent has on alphas, and you hope the sweetness is enough for both of them.

“If you really care about me, shouldn’t my happiness be the thing you prioritize?”

Moonbyul searches for her phone and finds it in her wallet, checking it before she puts it around her shoulder. behaving like there isn't a loaded Gun pointing right at her abdomen. The chain jingles and you notice it’s the same make and model of wallet that Jimin bought you so many months ago, for your first courting date. You met her in such a similar circumstance that night.

You wonder how much she knows, how much she's been watching you. the intel she's gathered.

“You sound like you’re reciting something that they’ve told you.” she reaches across the table and cups your cheek. Her nails, they’re not normal, you can feel it the second they touch your cheeks, they’re metal-tipped, not just the usual gel extensions. “If your alphas ever tell you that, you should know they’re lying.”

Her fingers dig a little, and Jimin reaches across the table and yanks her wrist. Slapping it. They're both standing, alpha aggression urged into action before you have a chance to process what's happening. Standing between them until Jimin effortlessly puts you behind his back. Growing larger in the small space. He's the same size as her but it doesn't feel that way, his scent so obtrusive that several people around you fall quiet.

She flicks her hand, but she doesn’t scratch you hard enough to draw blood.

And then the truth: she hisses, it spits it, something feral and dangerous in her eyes that you only saw in those moments in her nest what feels like years ago. That nest never felt like the omegas or Hyejin's. Any nest that was ever in their den always felt like hers. Moonbyul is the kind of alpha that claims everything she touches and your cheeks burn where she held you.

“You should have never been Yoongi’s. You should have known that and returned to us in a timely manner.”

Once upon a time, you would have felt safe enough to say what you thought around Moonbyul and her pack but that time has long past. To call them hostile is an understatement. You’re not an idiot, no matter what they might think of you or how many years younger you might be.

“I’m not convinced that you met us here unintentionally.”

Moonbyul hums, all but a confession. She disengages with Jimin almost instantly. “We’ll be seeing more of each other soon.” She reaches across the table to get both of her coffee cups. A flourish of her wool coat sends her peppermint scent fluffing over yours, and you shrivel your nose.

You’d have thought that Moonbyul’s anger would smell stronger, but honestly- she just smells sickly sweet, like the first pop of peppermint gum. Almost crumbly. Like the fake snow that they put on fake Christmas trees. Artificial.

Her metal-tipped fingers tighten the waistband on her coat. She looks at you while she tightens it.

She turns without another word and seconds later the door is clanging and Jungkook is there, shirt rucked up and not wearing his jacket, sweaty abbs on display probably just because he’s overheated from running here. His grin is boyish when he spots both you and Jimin. Popping out his headphones, walking past Moonbyul, not her any mind even though you hold your breath.

“God Wonho put me through my fucking paces today, had us do this wicked circuit-” Jungkook’s expression falls, exercise high fading when he takes in you and Jimin, the anxious edge to your scents, “What's wrong?! Both of you look-” you struggle, and Jimin muscles his way around you.

“Just- bad therapy session.” You choke out. Still reeling.

“Oh!” Jungkook’s eyes go bunny wide, “oh- just here-“ Jungkook pulls you in, nuzzling over your hairline, scenting you a little.

In the window, you can see them. Hyejin is there, the person who Moonbyul must have been meeting. The other coffee is in her hands now. You watch as her hand tightens around the paper cup. Crushing it and sending hot milky liquid onto the concrete. In the thrum of people, it's hardly noticed. Jungkook scent marks over the top of your head and Moonbyul pulls Hyejin into a waiting blacked-out car that quickly speeds off.

Jimin watches it too, stoic.

“I think she’s going into heat,” Jimin says, lying effortlessly. Jungkook instantly straightens. Leaning in to sniff at your shoulder.

"Minnie, I don't-"

“Stay with her here while I get the car.” It's in the garage, top floor. Jimin is already moving, gun stowed away. Jungkook’s hands tighten on the top of your arms.

“Wait!” you struggle, Jungkook’s eyes on you, you settle, “alpha I can’t- can’t be separated from you.”

there is no emotion on jimin's face, none at all. “No- too dangerous.”

If you let Jimin go alone, something bad is going to happen. You can feel it in your bones. You slip out of Jungkook’s grasp, hovering in the doorway, cold air billowing around you as Jimin heads off down the sidewalk.

“Stay here Jungkook. I’m serious, don’t move.” whatever jungkook says is swallowed by the door closing behind you. You chase after Jimin. He’s walking briskly, just fast enough that it doesn’t draw suspicion in the crowd. If you had to call his walk something, you'd call it a prowl.

“Go back and stay with Jungkook.”

“It’s crowded there, he’ll be fine.”

“You know other people don’t mean shit. I’ve killed people in more crowded places.” It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, but the same might not be true for us. The unwritten confession, but you can’t be sure.

“No.”

Jimin hovers, a feeling rocking through him, and then he’s tugging you along, shucking his jacket off in one fluid movement. There is a bulge in his baggy sweater, the gun hidden by the excess fabric. you wonder if Jimin favors clothes twice as big because he needs them this way.

You can see the subtle criss cross of the bands under his shirt. The leather jacket is heavy on your shoulders and stiffer, Your fingers flutter across it.

"It’s reinforced with body armor- not enough to stop a bullet at point blank, but a far-off shot-“ he cuts through the crowd of people. It’s after work now, and the streets are thick with window shoppers intending to get an early start on holiday shopping.

Above you the sky hovers, darker, the clouds closing in. Snow starts to fall, fluttering by your eyes sticking to Hobi's black sweatshirt. The first of the year. Your walk to the car is tense and quick, your short legs struggling to keep up as Jimin pulls you along. One Hand itching always ready to yank out the gun from his back pocket. The other circling your wrist.

Your footsteps echo in the near-empty car garage. You almost fall over at the lurch of the elevator. He scans the cars before he jeastures for you that it's safe to come out.

He opens the door of his car for you, the back seat this time. You slide into the warm interior. The seat beneath you is still warm.

You freeze.

Jimin’s body goes ridged. Palm sliding across the leather. Feeling it for himself. You share a glance. Not a muscle in your body moves. You don’t shift a muscle.

“They’d never.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe you. As far as things he could have anticipated for tonight car bombs are not one of them. But every wicked thing is fair game when it comes to people connected to Yoongi’s family.

Jimin hasn’t had to remind himself that you are one of them for a long long time. You look so scared as he looks down at you. He promises himself right then and there that they’ll pay for this. They’ll pay for making you this scared.

“Can you get out of the car the same way you got in?” Your leg is still balanced on the concrete. You slide your weight across the seat and then sit up as carefully as you can, and the second your ass clears the base Jimin is picking you up and running away from the car. Behind one of the concrete columns, his body blocking you, pinning you there cheek pressed to the cold concrete.

You wait ten seconds, and then twenty. Both of you breathing, watching, waiting.

Nothing happens.

“Jimin maybe we should just-“

Later- you’ll be able to separate what happens from the sensations that assault you. You’ll realize that it wasn’t Jimin’s car that blew up but a sedan a few rows back. You’ll remember that the force of the blast sent the car hurtling up a dozen feet, shattering nearly every window nearby and setting off dozens of car alarms. They must have taken great care to shut off the video cameras in the carepark before they planned the bomb.

For a second all you feel is weightlessness and heat.

The blast knocks you nearly off your feet, hitting you and Jimin from the side. You'd have been thrown if it wasn't for Jimin. You bang hard into the wall an inch away from your face thrown up against it..

You feel the heat and burn fromt he fire- but mostly just Jimin’s body pressed to you until the sound ends. There is ringing in your ears. Jimin pins you where you stand, his body covering all of you, a bit of shrapnel leaves a gash in the concrete above you. Narrowly missing you.

You taste blood, but you’re blinking, the heat from the fire drying out your eyes.

The tinkle of glass falling around you is the first thing you hear beyond the ringing in your ears. Jimin's distraught face inches from yours shaking your shoulders. Just ringing. There is a bit of glass in his hair that shakes loose and falls onto you.

“Are you hurt- are you-” his hands touch everywhere, your chest, your arms, letting out a single heavy breath when he finds no blood, no nothing.

There are alarms are going off, not just the cars but the fire alarms. The fire rages. The car still burns barely a dozen meters from you. you watch as the one next to it starts to burn too.

Far away, someone shouts, far away you can already hear sirens. You touch your chin, there is blood on your fingers.

Your phone fell from your pocket in the blast, and Jimin scoops it up as he heards you into the car, practically throwing you into the back, there is a text message lighting up the screen from a number you don’t recognize. Jimin shouts at you to keep your head down while you look at your phone. backing up the car, tapping the one behind it before he peels off.

Unknown (5:21): I’d never hurt you. I’d never leave you for dead like he did.

Jimin shouts something at you but you can't respond. Speeding out of the car park so quickly that he almost causes an accident as he cuts someone off. Sparks flying as he hits a low part in the concreete.

Unknown (5:21): I didn’t put a bomb in his car, just

Unknown (5:21): Take this as a warning baby <3

You look up, looking back at Jimin, pealing out of the he’s pulling you up. Shouting something you can’t hear over the roaring in your ears. Your hands shake, still holding the bulletproof jacket over your shoulders. Jimin has his gun in one hand and is steering with the other.

Your blood chills as you scroll down your notifications

Jungkook (5:20) (Missed call)

~-~

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

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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Birthday list &lt;;3

idk why the idea of the whole pack showering togethar makes me??? so flustered??? like- fuckkkk don't think of the visuals if you don't want to stare off into space

okay so the rat part might seem esoteric and upsetting BUT i really really need you to remember it, because in a chapter or two the m/c is going to refrence it.

i was also missing jin lots and lots in this chapter because i realize we haven't had a jin focoused chapter in a bit so 🥺

"there is no love without mutually assured distruction" jesus christ this might be my favorite line in this chapter.

i wrote almost all of this chapter tearing through dominic fikes discography in particular the song think fast. idk but theres something about it that is just so !!!! very bily!!!!

i must actually be loosing fat volume in my ass because this is the first day EVER that sitting for +10 plus hours editing bily has hurt my booty 🥺 yes it actually does take me that long to write this.

honestly writing moonbyul in felt like a jumpscare lol

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.62)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: love becomes guilt, predator becomes prey, and Jin becomes...

Tags: Hospitals, medical talk, sicfic, seizures, angst, hurt/comfort, assassin! Jimin, implied autistic! jimin, meltdowns, settling, non-sexual biting, Mafia shit, murder, Dead bodies, Guns, violence, blood. everyone lives nobody dies, morality conversations, revenge, secrets

W/c: 10.9k

A/n: thank you to everyone who helped me make my birthday this year super special <3 im sorry if i was bad at thanking people publicly for their specific gifts <3 i figured that the next best way i could say thank you was to give you another chapter...be warned, this one ends on QUITE the cliffhanger....be warned

Previous part ~ Masterlist

The hospital is cold, maybe that’s just because of the first snow.

It gathers on the trees outside like a faint white outline where someone forgot to fill the image in. Cresting the shoulders of everyone who walks into the hospital and turning the streetlight into halos and the sky into one big white blanket. The whole world is a nest when the weather is like this. Maybe if the whole world was a nest, it would be enough to keep you all safe.

It’s useless to hope, as you wait with Jimin outside of Jungkook’s hospital room.

The hospital is a mess of glowing exit signs and endless beeping. A dull roar in your ears from coming down adrenaline and a telephone nearby blares. The scratchy intercom system overhead pages a doctor for a code red. Whatever that is. You sit and wait, worrying and picking at your nails, full of useless energy. There is nothing to do but wait until someone tells you if Jungkook’s alright.

You're not sure if he will be, this seizure was a bad one.

You and Jimin sit side by side, and you don’t talk. You don’t even touch. You don’t know what you prefer, the instant terror of the car bomb, or this slow terror. Slow terror feels like nails dragging down the back of your skull, like clothes that are two sizes too tight. A bad taste in your mouth, not blood and not soot either.

The relief of finding out that Jungkook wasn’t calling you because Moonbyul had done something to him was only temporary. instead of your packmate there was a stranger on the other end of the line.

He’d still been seizing when you’d got back to the coffee shop. Foreghein scents on him and a crowd of patrons and paramedics surround him. His eyes rolled back into his skull, on his side, blue lips and froth on the edge of his mouth. Luckily, someone in that coffee shop was a doctor, was able to keep him semi-comfortable but-

This seizure had lasted a long time. Too long. Jungkook has been a patient at most of the local hospitals before on account of how unpredictable his seizures are. He has directives as per Namjoon's guidance, in place since before they were even packmates. Anything more than 6 minutes needs an overnight stay and copious testing. This seizure had lasted almost 10. The longest he's had in years.

You'd watched horrified and all too familiar with it as they’d loaded your still twitching packmate into the red box. Unsympathetic paramedics unwilling to hear your pleas to just let Jimin ride with them to the hospital (he'd tailgated them the whole way) but even at the hospital you and Jimin still couldn’t see him. They whisked him right up for an MRI.

Maybe you’d be less unnerved if Jungkook had woken up, but he hasn’t yet.

They’re still running tests and keeping him under just to be sure. Not a medical coma, but the step below that. Something about Jungkook’s malfunctioned ocular nerve and not wanting to trigger more seizures with more stimuli until the lorazepam and half a dozen other medications have time to take effect.

Jimin is the one who okayed those. He signed those papers for medications as easily as if he were swiping his card or maybe firing a gun. You feel out of your depth here, even if Jimin is very used to this. It’s been a while. It’s not your fault the luck ran out. Maybe that’s why he’s angry, maybe that’s why he’s not touching you. You are at once, somewhere between a four-leaf clover and a bad luck charm. Intangible and unsure of your odds.

Maybe Jimin's not touching you because he hates you, maybe he hates you because you forced him to let you come with him. you'd have been by Jungkook's side while this happened if you hadn't. But Jimin might have died from the explosion then-

Jungkook might still die, you realize with a lurch. Jungkook might die because of the seizures and could die at any time really. It's so easy to forget. Maybe that's why Jimin's not touching you. Your thoughts rush over you, wave after wave.

But Jimin thinks you don’t deserve to be touched when he’s this angry. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of an angry alpha touching you and he won’t be one of them. Won’t make you worse when you’re sitting small and fragile. Barely there, barely alive. No, he'll keep his shaking hands tightened to fists on his knees and his angry tongue locked behind pursed lips. touching you would be more for him than it is for you he's convinced.

Too close, they were too close today. Jimin promised you that he wouldn’t let them hurt you. He promised and he'd failed. you still have the gash on your chin.

His worry for Jungkook is another monster entirely, one that can't be made better with actions, that can't be fixed with his own two hands.

Yoongi and Tae are the first to arrive. Your mate’s hair is wet and tousled, in a pair of pajama pants on like he’d just been showering for the evening before he’d come. Tae is close behind, a pair of pink sweatpants poking out from below her long thick coat and her long nightdress tucked into the waistband. The same dress you cuddled up beneath this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Yoongi holds your cheeks, searching your face. The words tumble from your lips, the first you and Jimin have said in what feels like hours.

“He was just- we were just getting the car and we thought he’d be fine for a second but then-” you feel like you’re going to be sick all over his shoes. In his hurry, Yoongi put on a pair of Tae’s Uggs, the platform ones. You don't know why your brain fixates on that.

“It’s not your fault,” is the first thing he says, although even he sounds unsure. You shouldn’t have left him alone are the words that he must be thinking, the words that no one’s saying.

(This is a lie. This is your brain making up the worst-case scenario and clinging to it. There is nothing anyone can do, no precautions that they can take that they already haven’t when it comes to Jungkook’s seizures. Yoongi just gets small and quiet whenever Jungkook is sick. Jungkook will always be sick, and this quiet devastation will always find your mate because he loves Jungkook so).

There is nothing to do but wait, even though waiting with them is better than waiting alone.

The people at the coffee shop said they saw jungkook lie down before he started seizing. That's the only way they were able to call you, because he'd had your contact open on his phone. He'd known he was about to have one and he'd tried to call you. He'd been afraid and alone and then he'd been nothing.

The movements of the hospital slosh the four of you like an unmoored boat while you wait. Every doctor coming closer prompts a turn of your head and pleading eyes. Hoping that they’re the ones that will relieve you of your misery. Your leg jumps up and down, jittery. Jimin by comparison is deathly still.

Yoongi goes up to the desk and Tae sits between you and Jimin, one hand a piece on either of your thighs. You lean into her and Jimin rests his cheek on her shoulder slowly. She holds around your shoulders, looking back and forth between the two of you. She doesn’t any anything.

Her fingers rub up and down your shoulder, feeling the crumbliness there. She picks her hand up, and you watch as she takes in the darkness. It's soot.

“It’s from the ambulance,” Jimin says before you can force your words to cooperate and lie.

Jin comes through with a flurry of his long felted coat, snow gathering on his wide shoulder. Holding his keys in his hand and almost dropping them when you stand to collide with him. He has just a choked-out "pup" for you but then there's the nurse, the one you've been waiting for. Telling you that Jungkook's fine- he's not awake yet- but that you can wait in his room with him until he does.

Jungkook doesn't have too many wires connected to him, nothing more than an electrode at his temple, one at his heart, and an IV in his wrist. His hospital gown is pulled down to his collarbones so that the electrodes don't pull, but his skin is absent of his usual healthy flush.

You wait, watching until you notice the rise and fall of his chest. Even and beautiful breath. Jungkook is alive, Jungkook is breathing of his own accord. You let out a single broken sob, but you're not the only one.

You watch Yoongi brush his hair back from his face, eyes glassy. Seokjin sits by his right side and tae takes the other. Jimin and you stand at the foot of his bed, just watching him. No one says anything. Every beep of the heart monitor is anticipated, every second more precious.

"There's nothing on his MRI that indicates any lasting brain damage from the seizure," the nurse states, fussing with Jungkook's IV. "but it will be hard to know until he wakes up. You might notice him unable to recognize you or speak for a few minutes- the location of the seizure may have affected his language and motor capabilities so-"

She continues to list his prognosis, but it's nothing you didn't know before. Every seizure has a risk of taking out part of Jungkook's faculties, his fine motor skills, and his speech. But a seizure has never damaged him beyond repair before. Tae takes one of Jungkook's hands from the bed and brings it to her face, trying to hide her tears but it's no use.

It’s startling, how much your body relaxes upon Namjoon’s presence, you feel the shift in the air before he enters the room. Nauseous one moment and then fine the next. He enters the room, hand skimming the top of your head and Yoongi's side as he be-lines it to Jungkook's chart.

His scent is so thick- comforting coffee even if it is a a little stale. You sway, and when he looks up, his eyes flicker from you and then the nurse.

Today is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it. It feels like it's ending every time Jungkook finds his way into a hospital bed, a good 3 or 4 times in a year. Honestly, they’ve been so quiet recently, so unnoticeable that they should have known a bigger one was building.

“Dr. Kim,” Jungkook’s nurse says, this is not Namjoon’s hospital, but he is on Jungkook’s file. This nurse looks at him and waits for his call. Namjoon flicks past one page on his chart and then another, pursing his lips.

“Why didn't Avery order a Ct? it’s not here.”

“The ct has already been run Dr. Kim, He put the order in 4 minutes ago” Namjoon hums, and you watch the clench of his jaw, the extra tight way he bites his cheek. And it’s then you realize oh, Namjoon is about to cry.

Yoongi gets to him before you do, Jungkook’s fingers twitch of their own accord against Namjoon’s wrist and Yoongi grips his shoulder. Namjoon looks back at him and at the same time, Jungkook opens his eyes blinking against the dim lights.

His words are all garbled for the first few seconds after a seizure, the Jumbled groan startling enough that you flinch. Yoongi backs up so that Jin and Namjoon can hold him down as he reaches blindly, startled and moving before his brain has a second to catch up.

"It's okay Jungkook, you had a seizure. You were out for a few hours, You're okay,"

"Come up slowly, don't try to sit up there you go."

Jungkook tries to get up and out of the bed but has to be held down by namjoon until his brain comes back online, he continues to speak garbled nonsense for a moment. Too loud, voice loud after so much quiet. It startles you; you take a step back.

And almost step right on Hobi’s shoes.

Hoseok is there, hand on the small of your back. Snowflakes that still haven’t melted in his hair. He doesn’t say hi to you, but his hand stays there. Pressed flat. He only has eyes for Jungkook. Jungkook relaxes, falling back on the bed, and gets one coherent syllable out and then another. It's their names-.

"Alpha- Joon- hughr-"

Jungkook pants, breathing heavily, and then his hand reaches up steadily, to touch the electrode on his head. Yoongi's hand closes around his just in case, but he doesn't rip it off.

Everyone waits with bated breath.

“You alright kookie?” Hoseok asks careful, with that same level of humor in his voice that you’ve come to need. His smile is as genuine as ever as he looks down a Jungkook in the hospital bed. Jungkook’s hand is tight around Namjoon’s as he stretches, muscles aching. He’s always so sore after a seizure. It's always so disorienting coming out of them like this.

Jungkook waits, testing out his words. “I feel like Like it got hit by a trucking fuck.”

He blinks, and the lights are turned low, but a breath passes and Tae laughs and so does Yoongi, and then everyone's laughing and sort of crying. Your knees go a little weak and you turn into hobi's chest hiding your tears.

Jungkook just blinks at the ceiling. “That wasn’t right.” But then everyone's smiling. Happy because he's talking, happy because it looks like the seizure didn't do any lasting damage. Jin rests his head on the coverlet and sighs a happy sound. All too relieved to hear Jungkook act something like himself. Wordlessly Jin brings Jungkook's wrist to his face, pressing his nose to his scent gland.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enter the room along with someone who Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon. Asking Jungkook how many fingers she's holding up, Namjoon's name, then testing his reflexes on his hands and toes. Stress tests and memory tests.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enters the room along with someone whom Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon and refers to him by name.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi. Tae opens the door and gestures. You step out because it’s surely more important that Namjoon Jin and Yoongi get at Jungkook right now even if your heart clenches painfully at leaving Jungkook.

Jimin is still vibrating out of his skin, has been since Jungkook opened his eyes. But Tae tugs him in for a hug in the hallway. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you watch him hug her back. But Jungkook was Tae and Jimin’s packmate first. It’s no wonder that this has shocked them both closer, their fight forgotten.

Or mostly forgotten, you watch as Jimin wraps his arms around her slowly, like he's not sure he's allowed.

Hobi jogs you out of your starting, turning your face towards his and, looking at you intently. Eyes flickering down to your chin and then to your eyes. You forget what he’s looking at until his fingers skim below your lips and you feel pain.

You drag your arm across it and it leaves a small rusty trail in its wake on the sleeve of Tae's jacket, just another stain on it. Oh, you fell during the blast and banged your face, you'd almost forgotten.

“Tripped, banged my face on the sidewalk.” it's close enough to the truth that the lie goes unnoticed. Hobi makes a sound, holding your elbow. Squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’m gonna get some snacks from the vending machine, can I get you something?”

“Didn’t eat dinner” you say, staring down at Hobi’s red Converse. There are scuffs on the linoleum and a drop of blood someone must have missed. You wonder who it’s from, another person from the emergency room probably. “You sure Jin and Joon won’t be angry if my dinner is just sweets?”

Tae is close enough to overhear, and she rubs her cheek across the top of Jimin’s head, scenting him sweet (or trying to.) “Yeah- junk food isn’t exactly the most nutritious.”

You stumble, stepping close, swaying suddenly on your feet. Hobi catches you around the shoulders and for a second, you must look like the mirror image of Tae and Jimin.

Hobi's scent smarts with worry and he pushes you back, making you sit down. “They can live with it, she deserves a special treat. I’m getting you a Band-Aid.” Tae looks like she wants to argue with Hobi, then doesn’t.

Hobi gets Skittles and Peanut Eminem’s and two bags of funyuns that you pick apart while you wait for the doctors to be done. The colorful packages are scattered across your lap as he tilts your head to put the Band-Aid on your chin (gotten from a helpful nurse). Fingers that tenderly curve under the wide part of your jaw, drumming there.

Tae nibbles on a peach ring. Inside Jungkook's hospital room, it isn't quiet, but the four of you are silent with exhaustion listening in. Jin sounds relieved, and the low grumble from your mate sounds just as happy.

Jimin still isn’t speaking much, just pacing back and forth in front of Jungkook’s door. When you say you feel nauseous, Hobi gets up and gets you ginger ale too. You know there just isn’t much for him to do, alpha instincts and no omega to cool them but you. Hobi holds your hand, he doesn’t say that Jungkook’s going to be okay. He doesn’t say anything but.

“Which are your favorite?”

The back of Skittles jingles and he picks out all the green ones, lining up his pants in an orderly little row for you to grab when the ones you suck on go small enough.

You don't realize you're crying until he gets you a tissue, dabbing at your cheek. "There you go, Kookies gonna be fine. He's always fine." His voice goes slower, honeyed.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, and he lets you. “You got a pair of headphones?” Your breath is shaky, and you think you might be shaking apart right now if it wasn’t for Hobi.

Namjoon stares at the packages for a second too long when he exits the door. His hair is pushed up like he’s run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t smell quite as worried as he did before. He looks at the package and you shrink underneath his disapproving stare.

He all but snaps his fingers, “Tae, would you please go get some real food.” Hobi does not flinch at Namjoon’s cross-tone, even as Tae shoots to her feet and chirps "Yes alpha!"

Hobi doesn’t do anything but stare Namjoon down, put a pink starburst on his tongue, slowly.

Jimin keeps pacing.

“We’re sleeping here tonight.” It’s not an order or a request- your pack alpha has decided that this is too great a danger to separate you so you won’t separate. Neither of you pipes up anything to the contrary, now is not the time for contrary voices.

Jimin is still pacing. Black leather shoes smoothed and silent, barely acknowledging the pack alpha.

He’s making you anxious, your scent sour even to your own nose as your eyes track him back and forth. Namjoon pulls you to your feet, hand lingering on the back of your neck. “Will you be okay in those clothes pup? Or should someone go home and get your things?”

You hear the request for what it is; Namjoon is asking you if you think the alphas need a nest to settle if you think they need a change of clothes and things that smell like pack tonight for sleep and safety. he's leaving this up to you.

Your hands stay buried in the pockets of Tae’s white floral jacket. Hoping he doesn’t notice the soot smudge on your shoulder. “It'll be fine just-” your eyes are half glassy, “are you sure Koo will be okay?”

The pack alpha pulls you to his front, and one of the nurses passing by gives you both a look, you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him. "of course he's going to be, we're making sure of it" Namjoon promises.

"I meant like, without a nest."

Namjoon laughs, and you watch the stress melt off his shoulders. he turns, guiding you inside with a peculiar look over his shoulder at Hobi. “I’m sure he’d love it if you’d help him make one. he already wants to start"

Jungkook looks a little bit better, with less of a pale-yellow flush to his face and more of a healthy glow. pouting down at the blankets and complaining that they're too rough.

For someone who looks so physically well/muscles defined even when they’re not flexed, it’s always a bit startling to see him lying prone and exhausted, lights dim to avoid the risk of another seizure.

Tae comes back with some food, and you all eat in silence, white Styrofoam containers balanced across your knees. The faint crinkle and drag of plastic spoons scraping plastic bowls. Jungkook eats hospital food. Nibbles it, and doesn't throw it up. One of the side effects of the medication is nausea.

The only one not at ease is Jimin, who doesn’t eat, sitting tacitly in the corner watching each of you, getting up occasionally to pace. The pack let him work off his restless energy until it’s clear it’s making Jungkook restless too. Shifting and watching him. His request of, “Minnie will you come and sit by me?” goes unanswered as Jimin flexes his hands from open palm to open fist again and again.

Jungkook watches the jello in his plastic tray jiggle with the force of Jimin's pacing, back and forth. Back and forth. Tae sighs, and Yoongi stiffens.

He goes like that, pacing one two three steps just in front of Tae before turning. He falls apart like this until Jin steps up to intercept him, and Jimin rocks to a stop rather than crash into him. He’s put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense ball there. Moving quicker than any of you thought possible.

“Breathe.” Comes his terse request. A little broken, a little begging. But Jimin’s alpha will never willingly disobey an order from his pack omega, that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Jimin’s alpha has taken over, took over the second he saw Jungkook lying between those two tables in the coffee shop. All instinct and no Jimin, all fear and pulse and get them safe get them home get them out.

But it’s like Jimin’s lungs are pried open from it. He gasps, and Jin pulls him in for a thorough scent mark, systematically dragging his teeth from ear to ear, hard enough to leave dull red lines in his wake. You watch Jimin’s eyes dilate and constrict, plush lips parting in a gasp. Looking at you.

Jin licks his teeth after, “There you go.” You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Jin settle Jimin or if you’ve ever seen him settle any of the alphas like this. Jimin asks for bites again and Jin obliges. Bending over him to drive his teeth, to nip Jimin's skin pink between his teeth. Bite after bite Jimin’s body relaxes inch by inch.

And so does the rest of the pack, underneath the covers, Jungkook shifts his hips, splaying them a little wider. Relaxing as Jimin goes boneless.

Jin’s voice is a dark croon, the tone he reserves only for Jimin and maybe Namjoon sometimes. He's a little firmer when the more dominant alphas need his touch. Jimin feels it as delicately as Yoongi's soothing thumb on the side of your thumb when Jin pinches his cheeks and shakes him a little bit.

“Now, do you want to tell Omega why you’re upset?”

“S’my fault” Jimin sways on his feet, closer to Jin’s touch than back again. a planet in orbit. the rest of the pack watched transfixed. You see Hoseok perk up slightly. “Wasn’t there.”

“Minnie, I know you,” Jin cups his cheek a little gentler. Fingers skimming stubble. “I know you,” Jin repeats, such an air of finality about it that you can’t doubt it to be true.

Jin could command the moon to shift its orbit and it would. “I know you’ll do whatever’s possible to protect the pack" Jimin's eyelashes flutter. "To your dying breath.”

“You don’t have to be so intense about it” Namjoon half snaps, any of them dying isn't what he wants to think about right now. But he's forgiven the second he realizes he's being too harsh, everyone’s a bit stressed right now.

Jin’s dark tone falls away as quick as it came, “But still- what happened with JK wasn’t your fault, isn’t that right kookie?”

Jungkook nods, eyes closed, licking his lips like he's tasting the settling in the air. “Not Jimin’s fault my brains fucked up, just how it is” Jin pecks Jimin’s head, pinning his blond hair flat. “See pup? Listen to the omega’s, You’re fine. Everyone's going to be fine."

Jin speaks the words so surely you almost believe it.

The hospital is a bit generous with the extra sleeping cots (Namjoon might have called his boss and asked him to pull privileges), and you get 3 that they roll up one on one side of Jungkook's hospital bed, and two more on the other side.

But you and Jin pile in just around him. Cuddled up close and scenting along his shoulders, sniffling and fluffing a few extra threadbare blankets around him in a makeshift nest, full of your jackets too.

You steal Tae's pants for the nest making, letting her untuck her nightdress and let it flutter around her. But when one of the nurses comes to the door Namjoon (panicked) throws himself across the exposed line of her honeyed thighs to conceal her nakedness. but she just giggles, she’s not some Victorian maiden full of virtue, but it makes Jungkook smile and scrunch his nose. and it feels like a win even if Namjoon's cheeks go bright red.

You cuddle up, trying fitfully to banish the medicinal scent by scenting him. It's sour and not all like him, but the medicine they give him for his seizures always makes him smell a little off for a few days. It’s no less distressing to you, but Jungkook just grins and tells the others to let you do what you need when you rest your body weight on top of him and stubbornly bury your face in his chest. His hand with the attached IV strewn across your back to cradle your ribs.

Before no time Jungkook is laughing and leaning into Yoongi’s stomach where he lies across the top of the bed. In no time he's taking a few bites of veggies and a few sips of water, eyes heavy. He is tried from the seizure and medication even if he puts on a brave face.

They’ll drag him into one more MRI in the morning just to be sure that nothing concerning has developed over time but until then, the beeping of Jungkook’s heart monitor is your lullaby. Every heartbeat is a new chance. You don't even mind the lumpy hospital pillow. The pack goes quiet when Jungkook's eyes flutter, when they shut and his breathing goes deep. yoongi puts his finger to his lips and jin shifts slowly, Jungkook's head resting on his thigh. your lovely packmate resting between jin's parted legs.

The rest of the pack falls like Domino’s once Jungkook's asleep. Hobi shucks off his jeans to be more comfortable and so does Yoongi. The room is full of heavy breaths and dreams waiting to swoop in. You struggle to settle until Hobi gives you one of his headphones, and you lie close to share them, one in each of your ears. he still has his sleepy time playlist, and it blocks out the sounds of the hospital. When Sleep takes you it's thankfully dreamless.

Somehow Hobi's hand finds your waist under the covers, bunching up and tangling in his sweatshirt. Clinging to you and holding on for dear life. His bare thighs between your thin leggings tangled up in the makeshift nest. Jin only glances at your particular closeness a few times.

Sleep evades jin until he gives up on it entirely. Nothing feels quite as good to Jin’s instincts as having all of his packmates sleeping in one room. Even if it's not quite good enough to get him to fall asleep himself. But still- Jin would rather they not be here; would rather they be in the nest at home.

That will have to wait until tomorrow.

The distant hum of the hospital and the sound of his dull typing fill the room. His work computer screen is the only light in the whole room besides the monitors. Jin's computer balanced on his back because Jin had to leave during a briefing on a low-level gang member and Koo said he didn’t mind being used as a computer rest so long as Jin kept running his hands through his hair. Jimin is curled up on the next nearest cot, within petting (and settling) distance if he should need it.

7 a.m.

A look at the clock says that the pack has 5 more hours until Jungkook is allowed to be discharged. Until then, Jin will get some work done and keep an eye on the rest. Namjoon sleeps by the door, he declined a cot on account of there not being enough room for the rest of them to sleep comfortably. Namjoon turns fitfully with every new person who walks by the door. He’s gone in and out of sleep a few times. If he flinches awake again, Jin will get him a cup of coffee.

Until then, there's paperwork and an endless array of evidence for Jin to examine.

There are documents he can look over again, the same ones, back and forth. There are about 300 crime scene photos for each murder that the family has committed in the last 6 months, it doesn’t hurt to skim them again and refresh his notes.

That boy from the coffee shop burned beyond recognition. A pair of 30 caliber bullets in his chest. One under his ribs the other in his head, evidence of deep lacerations and torture on his body, bitten tongue, and evidence of red paint under his fingernails. The only other bit of evidence.

The origin of these paint flecks have been a source of annoyance and frustration for jin and the rest of his coworkers. Maybe they're evidence from a third location between abduction and dumpsite? A bit of the killer's car scraped maybe? The paint was metallic, old-fashioned. After a few minutes, Jin moves on to other murders, other people who have lives and packs and dreams that the family extinguished.

Jin no longer spends hours looking at his picture. The one of Choi Beomgyu alive and grinning. He still gets weekly calls from his pack alpha, begging Jin for any updates and leads. Jin has stopped feeling guilty over being empty-handed.

Jin’s boss's crime scene photos are a little harder to look at if only because of the nausea that those photos bring. Although Jin has become so desensitized to them that his bloated face no longer makes his stomach swirl with revulsion. His missing hand, the torn stump of it induced post-mortem.

One burned and one drowned.

These two kills are by far the family's messiest and hastiest. Usually, they don't even find this much of the bodies. Just a few fragments of bone or a tooth in a pire. Most of the time people just disappear.

What did you know, he thinks, looking at the photograph of the boy and then his charred corpse, what did you know that you shouldn’t have? Why didn't they have time to properly make you disappear? Why couldn't they risk you talking?

It’s funny, out of all the evidence, he tries to look at your cookbook and the late Don and data’s autopsy reports the least. Their tox screen and that one page that might as well be your confession and Ahn Hyejin's (Jin compared the second handwriting to a sample they had on file and matched hers to it in about an hour). Their murder was a neat and tidy little thing, but it is the murder that got his boss killed so maybe Jin should treat it with more scrutiny.

But that’s so simple, it’s almost a wonder why such a slight thread of spider silk needed snipping. Or is Jin wrong and this is a thread that could send the whole thing crumbling down?

Jin’s not sure yet, but maybe after a few more hours of pouring over this, he will be.

It’s nearing 3 in the morning and Jin is still sifting through every little bit of information when a ding punctuates the quiet in the room. Jin panic smashes the mute button before any of his packmates stir.

A warm body away, Hobi lets out a particularly deep and easy breath, and Jin relaxes.

Jin’s first thought looking at the email, is that no one not directly connected to the bureau should be able to get ahold of his email address, let alone be able to send him anything.

The email doesn’t have a heading, and the email doesn’t even have a subject or a cc. Unlike half of Jin’s other correspondents to other people giving them guidelines and delegating tasks. It's only secure for him to look at these here because everyone’s eyes are closed.

On closer look, the sender is just a random email generated with an obscure amount of Xs. He hovers over it. Cursor blinking until he clicks it, he knows better than to click on the link without launching it on his firewall server but the contents of the email aren’t anything but a video and a short line of text.

Skip to 17:19:07 for the fun parts :)

The video isn’t infested with bugs planning on robbing his data and pilfering him for information. No, the data and danger is just right there when Jin skips ahead, Jin holds his breath as he watches the grainy imagery.

The security camera is an IPC-110 if the shitty quality is anything to judge by. Trust a parking garage to install the shittiest CCTV cameras on the market but still the blurry figures of two of Jin’s packmates is unmistakable as he watches. Jimin’s face terse and afraid, backing up against the wall and exchanging words.

The flash of light is so sudden it makes Jin flinch hard and Jungkook groans, before settling and smacking his lips. Jin hardly notices as he watches you and Jimin get thrown by the blast, tight nuckled watching Jimin tuck his body around you and shouting your name. Pauses the video just to look at Jimin's panic-stricken face. To see him yank you to your feet and put you in the car.

Jungkook makes another soft whine when Jin shifts him, jostling him “One second baby” Jin murmurs, putting his computer to the side. Your jacket is on the side of the nest, delicately folded into the border. Jin detangles it and brings it to his nose.

Fire, burning things, soot. The smell is unmistakable. If the timestamp is to be believed, this is the reason why you and Jimin weren’t at the coffee shop with Jungkook. Jin feels the last little bit of his frustration fade at this.

Oh, Minnie.

It’s no wonder why Jimin was too spooked to speak, why he’s been so laconic tonight. First you and then Jungkook so quick. The stress would have anyone shutting down, this is why Jin's smallest but strongest alpha was so quiet and afraid. Why he’d needed a bit of settling when usually he’s someone Jin can depend on during Jungkook’s seizures. One surprise is hard enough to handle.

Jin shifts his petting from Jungkook’s hair to Jimin’s, combing through his blond strands lovingly.

He rewinds the tape back to the beginning, as far back as it will go, and sets it to 3x speed. The first hour goes by in 5 minutes, The person on camera is in all black, but even in black and white Jin would know the kind of mask they wear. It's red at the top and a stunning grimace at the bottom.

He watches as someone slight and billowy, probably 5’7 in height- no 5’9- figure cuts through the cars, heading for Jimin’s like they know which one to go for. The CCTV footage doesn’t cut out at all. Usually, the family is better in concealing their crimes. Usually, they don’t even leave a hint of evidence.

Usually, they don't send the evidence to Jin.

Jin freezes the frame when the figure turns, with the mask fully facing the camera. It’s a traditional Korean mask, the same one Jin has seen photographed on the rest of the family. He drags up Google, doing a cursory search. The footage is in black and white but the images on file are all red and black.

He goes back to the first murder, those hands, the red paint chipped underneath fingernails and his breathing goes heavy.

He needs to go back to Beomgyu’s dumping site and see if there’s anything red, any other possible reason why he’d have that under his fingernails. Either that or this is all connected, and the same person who killed him is trying to kill you.

Jin's breath goes heavy when he thinks about what could have happened if Jimin hadn't been there.

Jin does not wake you and demand to know what happened, Jin keeps his breathing measured and shallow. Does not let his scent get sour enough to wake the others. Jin fully detangles himself from Jungkook and pauses to lean over you, thumb skimming the Band-Aid on your chin.

No one hurts his pack and gets away with it. No one.

He’ll think about what you know and why Jimin didn't tell him later. Poor thing was probably just too shocked to say anything. You might have convinced him that saying anything would have put Jungkook in distress. Jin's anger is a cool sort, it's not you that he's angry at.

It’s only 5 a.m. but Jin goes and gets a coffee anyways. When he gets back, he shoves it into Namjoon’s hands startling him awake. But one glance at the pack omega says that he means business. Shadowed face unreadable silhouetted against the bright and open hospital door.

“Get the doctor, we’re going home.”

~-~

You wake in the hospital bed, roused by Yoongi's gentle hand on your shoulder, feeling listless and sorer than ever with Hobi’s nose pressed to the nape of your neck and Jungkook at your front. You wonder when that started to feel normal. When Hobi cuddled you stopped feeling so forbidden.

you know that when you take off your clothes you'll find your front bruised from falling, that you'll find your body dinnged. you don't know what you'll say, how you'll excuse the marks away from them but in the meantime, you watch jungkook. get a washcloth from the bathroom and whipe his face for him, standing between his legs.

"do you want water? coffee? can i get you something before your MRI"

namjoon sighs heavy, "pup- he can't-"

jungkook leans into your hands, letting you drag the cloth over his face, it's as much grooming as you ever have, but jungkook just smiles up at you and shakes his head. "when we get home yeah?"

The golden light streams through the horizontal blinds and Jungkook shifts as he gets out of the hospital bed and into a wheelchair for his MRI, and you wait for him with the rest of the pack. Yoongi returns with bagels and coffee for everyone. The caffeine makes you all jittery.

After he's given a clean bill of health, Jungkook leaves the hospital under his own power, on his own two feet because he always needs that certainty. Declining the wheelchair that the staff offers because honestly, he’s fine, he'd run out of here if he didn't think namjoon would drag him right back inside.

You’re guided into Jimin’s car, Yoongi drives. Hobi is in the front, turning to look at you more than he should, asking you questions about what song you want to play. Really, it can go as loud as you want cuz Jungkook's in the other car. He asks too many for your brain to answer accurately. You're too tired too worn out too everything to answer.

But when you get home, there is even more movement too quick for your sleepy brain to comprehend. Jin has to go to work and so does Namjoon; something about a revision surgery that won’t take too much time and can't be rescheduled. He's barely changed and cleaned himself before he's heading out the door again. Definitely a bit too tired, but oh well.

But now at home, the rest of the pack has Jungkook well in hand and ready for a bit more babying. Jungkook will be fine by this evening. Is honestly fine now. Just a little tired of being poked and prodded and just needs to nest and rest.

Jin too seems distracted by something, checking his phone and kissing each of you on the forehead before he goes. You're tempted to whine and ask them to stay, if not for Jungkook then for you but before you can, Hobi grips both of your shoulders and tells Namjoon and Jin that he’s got it, and the moment gets stolen away from you.

“I’ll get your pajamas,” he says after the door thuds closed, while Jungkook says something to Yoongi. Noodle meows and darts around Tae's heels and Jimin carries Jungkook to the couch and gently, gently- sets him down. Your mate is distracted right now (as he should be) but that doesn’t mean Hobi can’t fill the gaps.

He thuds up the stairs, bare feet probably cold. The house is still cold from a night left empty even though Yoongi’s just turned the heat on.

Jimin gets a ding on his phone, standing up the second he’s seen it.

Unknown (9:18): I want to talk to you about a murder.

Unknown (9:18): One you might have a vested interest in.

The picture is grainy, but Jimin knows the faces of the two women like the back of his hand although Hyejin takes a few seconds of racking his brain to place. Jimin feels his blood cool to a simmer and the shaking in his hands stops. His phone dings a few more times, whoever's sending it through must be a fast texter, from a burner phone no doubt.

Unknown (9:19): Especially because of the sensitive nature of this, you understand why I’d want to meet in person.

Unknown (9:19): (See attached address)

Jimin's suspicions are immediately peaked, warning bells going off loud. But before he can do more than read over the messages again more come through.

Unknown (9:20): I’m willing to offer you 10x your normal rate for each kill. Two Mil upfront. And Three more when the hit is carried out. I understand how risky it is for you to even view these texts so here

Jimin watches the next notification from his bank account ding through and holds his breath.

Fuck, that's a lot of Zeros.

Unknown (9:20): As a show of my good faith in you. I'll see you in three hours. If not, enjoy the money.

Jimin holds onto the phone like it’s a lifeline, the black plastic case digging into his fingers. He knows it's stupid, he knows that it's dangerous, and a million other things but-

Jin's words ring in his ears. "I know you'll do whatever you have to do to protect the pack, until your dying breath."

The money means nothing to Jimin, he'd do this killing for free. Out of all the lives he's ever taken, this is the first one that maybe he's ever felt vindicated in. the first murder that he's ever truly wanted to commit.

He's gripping his phone so hard he doesn't move until you make a noise. And when he looks up at you, you have a glass of water in your hands, waiting there, watching him. There is still that fucking scrape on your chin. Jimin looks at it and his mind is made up. All of this karma has come due.

If Jimin's being honest with himself, it's not Moonbyul’s confrontation or her comments about you that had Jimin so bothered.

All that "you belong to me" kind of talk that bullshit alphas with something to prove say, like something out of a manhwa. If he's being honest, the thing that bothered him the most, that made him so very angry was how clearly you didn't want them, and how willing she was to ignore that.

He grins at you, tipping his head back and you think Jimin might look like more of a demon than a man.

“I have to go to work.”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he reaches for Mini and tries to cling but Jimin steps away, sliding back on his still-warm shoes. “I thought you called out already?”

Jimin tugs on his coat, The one with the reinforcement in it, hard panels that flap just a little bit too stiffly. The shoulders that seem just a little too crisp.

"Sorry Koo it's an emergency."

You know just by looking at him that this isn’t for his other job. (You don’t think of bodyguarding as Jimin's real job, not when this one is so much more prescient and dangerous.) You follow him outside, the door closing with that same rusty jingle of the old doorknob.

“It’s not from her.” The words are quiet, stolen. The empty birdfeeder clangs in a sudden wind and you shiver, warm only for a few seconds without a jacket. Jimin’s hand skims your shoulder and he pushes at it, urging you to go back inside.

“It’s not just her who hires me, this isn’t related to her.” He lies effortlessly. Turning and making to walk away, you wrap your arms around him and almost make him fall down the stairs but he catches both of you, swaying at the bottom.

“Pup, you need to let me go,”

“No!” you cling to him stubbornly, “if I let you go something bad is going to happen!”

Jimin is so quiet you think you might not hear him. He stops struggling and trying to twist out of your arms for a second. “You’ve got to, I have to do this, please.” his tone is so calm, so gentle. Jimin is smiling down at you when you pull back to look up at him. He gently but forcefully separates you from him, hands holding yours and prying them apart.

“I’ve got too much to make up for. You have to let me do this.”

You have a bad feeling about this, your instincts that you should listen to. Walking into this so soon after Jungkook’s seizure. Is this punishment for leaving him? Jimin slips from between your hands. Walking to his car, and you feel a lurching in your gut like something terrible is about to happen.

You say nothing, watching him, heart beating quick. but you are powerless to stop him, powerless to keep him from leaving.

You wonder if this is how Yoongi felt, leaving them. Powerless.

“You'll come back? you've got to- you can't-" you can't leave us is what you want to say. Standing on the steps of the house, Jimin by his car.

"I'd never dream of leaving you." Jimin says, swearing it. And all the fight goes out of your sails.

"Be careful Minnie.”

He looks back at you, hair ruffled by the wind. All the snow from the night before has melted but the cold will stay.

“Always am.”

You nod, giving him permission and Jimin gets in his car. You return inside where it’s warmer. And Jimin turns it on, but before he has a chance to pull away from the curb, his phone lights up with another notification.

Unknown (9:27): Make sure to wear your mask.

~-~

The location on his phone is a lot more desolate in person, the scrub brush that’s that's grown in is thick enough to hide his car. Green by the river and poisoned into sticks here. Jimin parks far away among the maze of what must be four-wheeler tracks and walks in. mask on and gun at the ready.

The rusted metal of the industrial park rises out of the soil and the fog. It has to have been abandoned for years given how poor of a condition it's in. There are a few half-fallen-down buildings and one big complicated warehouse flanked on one side by a wide and slow-moving river. The soil smells strongly of gasoline and rust. The soil here is probably soaked through with it. Jimin wonders if would burn and catch fire if a spark was lit.

The traditional mask fits snugly on Jimin’s face, the hole at the mouth just large enough for him to not feel like he’s suffocating. Eye holes are wide enough to see and not block his peripheries.

The doors are cracked and nearly rusted shut with age but Jimin slides through a crack easily. He’s a whole hour early on purpose. This is all by design, every moment of this. Every second is orchestrated like a symphony;

Jimin is the violin, with high and pointed movements, drawing his weapon like a cymbal. The crunch of his boots on the floor the drums, every breath a crooning saxophone. His thoughts flute spiraling up like high delights. All of this builds to one big crescendo.

He doesn’t take out his phone to check the time. The upstairs is mostly unlit but Jimin doesn't use a light, just lets his eyes adjust. He waits, stalking quietly, completely silent in his movements.

Jimin is not nervous about this handoff, mostly, he’s just wondering who it is in the family that's finally betraying her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t suspect that the conditions of this were a little too perfect. Money and all.

The main atrium of the industrial park is rusted up with age. Old metal shipping containers that used to hold smelting equipment or maybe molten metal long since rusted out even though the chains still hang from the ceiling. A suspended catwalk rings the room on all sides.

Jimin spends a few minutes casing the place, noting the exits, and the obvious places to hide. The old rusty fans at the apex of the roof turn and squeak softly from the wind outside. The whole place smells like chemicals and rust. It's all Jimin can do not to have a coughing fit.

It’s a wonder he doesn’t smell the blood sooner

(Trust me, I speak from experience. if you spend enough time around blood that's not your own, you’ll eventually be able to smell it. Even a drop in an empty room. like a hound the the hunt. You'll smell it.)

Jimin is almost done with logging the entrance and exits when he finds the body.

He rushes to their side, Jimin doesn’t recognize their face when he slides whats left of the traditional mask off their face, it's the same as his. Racking his brain to recognize the face but nothing. the masks is broken into pieces. A bullet between the eyes is a good shot.

Before Jimin can do anything, can decide if this is a setup or just a meet-up gone wrong, He hears footsteps behind him.

~-~

In the wake of Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin leaving, the rest of the pack is a bit forlorn. Jungkook is not so mobile, not so willing to make the trek upstairs. Worried about the stairs and any sudden seizures and all. But there is no shortage of cuddle spots on the ground floor, you've made many a nest in the living room before.

And besides, in such proximity to the kitchen, Jungkook can have all his treats this way.

Lately, it’s started to feel like the pack has several nests, the one upstairs, the nesting pod, and the one on the old grey couch when you shove all the pieces together. Yoongi indulges jungkook in half a bar of dark chocolate while you get some nesting materials. Blankets and your wet cheeks catching the dimmed lights.

You’re a little pouty and a lot quiet, and the others take note of it. Skimming comforting hands up and down your shoulders, always touching you like they’re making sure you’re there. They don't ask why you're upset at Jimin leaving. They don't have to wonder. you snap the blanket as you fluff it huffing.

Jungkook finds your angry nestmaking cute. he pulls you down on top of him nipping at your throat when you fuss a little too long. Testing out Jin's method of settling on you.

It’s surprising even to you when the action sparks tears in your eyes, the opposite he was hoping for. You rub at your wet eyes with a clenched fist stubbornly. It’s not even noon yet and you’re already crying. You're so exhausted by everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, so tired. You can't be blamed for getting a little teary-eyed.

Tae reappears, freshly showered. Her shoulder-length hair already starting to dry. tilting your face up to her's and says "Oh my little dove-

She piles into the nest and upstairs you hear Hobi moving around. tae stradles jungkook's thighs and shifts the two of you, lying you all flat,

"Don’t worry about Minnie, he’s always had something to prove.” You rub at your tears stubbornly, sniffling and nodding. Jungkook threads his fingers through the back of your hair, a little indelicately. But he loves without boundaries, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.

“But why-” your words are quiet but broken, “why does he always feel so-"

“Guilty?” Tae finishes for you, looking out the window in the direction that Jimin disappeared. Humming as she strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt.

Hobi appears at the bottom of the stairs smiling. "Are we talking about Jimin's guilt complex again?"

Your mate groans and finishes putting together a little snack board. "I swear we've probably had this discussion like- fucking 20 times?" Yoongi's not wrong.

You only get more teared-eyed, crying a little bratty, thumping weakly against jungkook's chest, he grabs your thigh and pulls you snug across his lap. "But why! Why does he feel like everything is his fault?"

Tae hides her sad smile behind a hand, and you're less upset looking at it. Calmed in a second, because they have talked about this you realize, everyone in the pack is well aware.

“I guess he feels guilty because," Tae sighs, "because he was so loved.” Tae's fingers dance along Jungkook's thigh, and you're all quiet. everyone is quiet when they hear tae talk about jimin. it's a little like listening to someone describe what it feels like listening to your favorite song for the first time, what it's like to taste your favorite food, the feeling of a first kiss.

Hobi comes close to tae, sets down a shirt and a pair of pants. "would you get them into this while i shower?" the curtains are drawn and hobi goes upstairs and Tae undresses you while she speaks. You're a doll, teary eyed and willing as she and Jungkook strip you and put you in clean clothes. You didn't realize how much you needed to not smell like hospital until it's done.

"The first love you lose always hurts you the most, whether that's romantic love or parental love doesn't really matters. Each person metabolizes it differently. Truthfully, I believe that Jimin lost love the first time and promised himself- never again."

Tae talks, playing with Jungkook’s hair. He pouts “he's never gonna lose us.” Tae hums, agreeing. But you can see in her eyes the sadness there. Wounds that might never heal and wanting that might never fade.

Yoongi sits down beside you and together, the three of you undress and dress Jungkook. He could probably do it himself just like you could, but he's a willing puppet, happy when Tae tickles his tummy and slides his shirt over his head.

A minute later, Hobi's back, wet head that drips onto your cheek when he leans over Jungkook's curled form to grab one of the grapes on the snack board that Yoongi made. And Tae stares off into space, thinking of Jimin, how they met and how they feel in love, everything between then and now.

Tae smiles just thinking of him. "i know that pup, he just- he can't let himself believe it no matter how much he wants too. It was really hard on him, how our parents treated us, Jimin has guilt built into him because they made him that way."

It's too simple of an explanation for what they went through. What does it mean to love a parent that hates you? Or at least to have a parent that does not strive to understand you. How many times did the words linger on Tae’s lips? Standing in the doorway wearing a little boy jersey and little boy clothes, listening to his mother talk about the things on the news.

Wondering, Mom, would you give up God for me?

Tae rests her cheek on her hand. Her nail polish has gotten all chipped, maybe she picked at it nervously while you were at the hospital. She has a habit of picking at it when she needs something for her hands to do.

“If Jimin had a religion- it would be love. And every time he feels even a little bit like he's not loving us the way he should, he beats himself up for it and guilts himself into loving harder, loving better. He considers a lack of love the greatest crime. So yeah, feeling guilty is par for the course."

Jungkook groans, tipping his head back against the sofa, “I’ve told him, I’ve told him a million times-“

“Doesn’t matter” Hobi interrupts, “he still hates it when he’s not there when you have a seizure. He's upset with himself, that's why he left. Giving him more love when he feels like he doesn't deserve it is like his worst nightmare.”

You think of the explosion. Of Jimin pining your body and putting himself between you and the blast. Maybe with Jimin it's so instinctual it's not even a conscious decision. You wonder if it ever gets easy, to make the decision to sacrifice yourself for the people you love. Does that make Mimin feel like he deserves them more? the sacrifice?

You don’t know if it would be as innate with you, You might have to think it through for a few seconds.

You don't like that. You don't like realizing that you'd need to think through it however briefly. You fear a world in which you don’t love him as much as he loves you, in which any of this isn’t reciprocal.

(But then again, most recipes have twice as much sugar as butter.)

You melt against Hobi’s side. “He shouldn’t,” you say, feeling useless, a little quieter, a little bit more upset. “He shouldn’t feel guilty, he loves us enough!” Tae’s hand rests on your ankle, and her laugh strikes high and sad.

Outside a mourning dove coos, a lonely soft sound.

“Trust me, I’ve been trying to love Jimin more than he loves me for my whole life. He wants to win the 'I love you more' debate every time.”

~-~

The Industrial Park is different than Jin remembers.

It rises a little more jagged against the surrounding area of 3-meter-high brush that disguises a network of other dilapidated sheds and half flooded buildings. Jin recites what he knows about this place; the facts.

An iron processing plant, decimated by the flood of a nearby river 2 dozen years ago and bought through a shell corporation. Vacant land with so many entrances and exits. A veritable hotbed and the perfect body dumping site. construction on a housing development delayed on account of how expensive the environmental clean up.

He scans the building for red paint.

He can be forgiven for not seeing Jimin’s car, parked on the fringes. The opposite side from where Jin came in because Jin had to stop at the office first. Jin can be forgiven for having his blinders on, so focused with single-minded intent that he misses some of the signs. The smell of gasoline drowns out Jimin's vanilla scent.

Jin sees the fresh footprints in the dirt and draws his weapon.

That's the whole reason why it took him so long to get here, (why Jimin got here first even though he left second) He couldn't just go into an unknown setting alone unarmed, he'd had to stop back at the office to grab his vest and his FBI-issued firearm, a standard-issue Glock 17. Forghein and unwelcomed in his hands.

Even Jin will admit that he’s not the best marksman, (Jin had barely passed his exam a few years back, and continually has to study and practice for his re-certification every 6 months.) Jin does not prefer to be armed. If he wasn’t alone, if he didn’t go by himself for this, He might not have brought his weapon at all.

Jin enters through the front door; the old hanger doors are already open. Feet crunching on the gravel. Jin can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, how hard he’s holding the gun, he’s never had to discharge it during a field excursion before. How unbecoming of a director, how green of him. He lacks this experience.

The tip of the weapon shakes because he's holding it so hard. Jin feels like he can feel the breath of unseen eyes on the back of his neck. Someone is here, he knows it.

Jin walks into the atrium, gun at the ready, turning the corner when he sees them.

One masked man is bending over another a body, already strewn across the floor and dead. the man's mask litters the floor in red shards. Jin sees the gun in the living man's hands, gloved, Jin snaps his hand up and aims before he can really take in the details of the scene.

“Stop! FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!”

The man at the other end of the room tilts his head and does not speak, red mask flashing in the half-light. There is a single breath where the man does not move, just looks at Jin with that tilted face. silent. But then he takes off, running like his life depends on it. bolting down a corridor and out of range of Jin’s accuracy on the best of days.

Jin fires a shot and misses. It hits the metal wall with a loud clink and a bright spark, ricocheting off into space.

Jin curses and takes off after the killer, skidding in the dust and bashing into the wall, gun banning against the door with a loud metallic clang as he slides through it, running from hall to hall trying to get a good shot.

Every time Jin crests a turn and tries to aim, the man rounds another, darting through the maze of hallways and shipping containers.

Jin has longer legs and is taller and faster than his target. He catches up to them by the stairs, the man turns and hesitates again. If Jin were less adrenaline high he might already realize they've tucked their gun away.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!”

The criminal bolts up the stairs and Jin goes too. Up and up and up onto the catwalk. Feet clangs against the metal, the suspended walkway sways under the force of their steps, The chains clanking.

And then, at the very end, he stops.

Jimin turns, casting one glance back at him. And hesitates, the mask catches the light again. And Jimin reaches up, about to take it off. The words, "Stop baby it's me." Already hovering on the edge of his lips.

He never gets the chance to say them. Jin’s finger finds the trigger, and the gun fires in a gorgeous explosion of gunpowder and force. Fire made small, and love made lethal.

Jimin hits the wall from the force of the bullet, hitting the latch at the back of his head.

The mask falls off.

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

Everybody lives nobody dies.

Let me repeat that again NOBODY DIES, no one, not even Jimin. He’s just gonna be a little bloody from this, that’s all, before you get angry and yell at me.

I could have made this more convoluted, but I decided not too because…I simply did not want to stage a chapter between this one and the next one.

Jimin’s autistic meltdowns look a whole lot like mine do, I know they’re not typically what other people associate with meltdowns. But going nonverbal and stimming with your body (pacing) is very on par with me.

I felt like we needed to see a little bit of the jinmin dynamic before you know…Jin shoots him, just for funsies. And to talk about how Jimin loves.

A lot of people expressed a desire for Jimin to have some sort of concenquence for the way he treated Tae when she came out, just the part where he needed space, and for him not helping the m/c when he could have. I think this is his penance for that, getting shot by Jin, getting betrayed- however unintentionally- by someone he loves is the justice for those moments. I’ve always been stalwart on the fact that the bily charecters act sort of terribly sometimes because real people act terribly too, they’re dynamic in the way that they love and handle their actions.

On the subject of like- who framed what and explaining the events of the chapter, moonbyul and Hyejin are orchestrating everything. They pay Jimin MOSTLY because they know how suspicious it is and are trying to do anything they can to expose Jin to him. The scene in the industrial park goes exactly the way they wanted it too…accept that Jimin will live. They didn’t count on Jin being a poor shot lol

They are trying not only to manipulate the m/c away from the pack, but destabilize them to try and make the m/c come to them. Having one packmate kill another is definitely they way they wanted to do this. They’d 1000% just kill everyone if they thought that would give them the m/c but they’re attempting to manipulate her into coming to them rather than just abducting her point blank.

Funnily enough this is one cannon-cannon event of bily like, Jin was always going to shoot Jimin. If you go back and forth in other chapters you can see that Jin is almost constantly touching Jimin’s shoulder. It’s up to you if you think that Jin’s bullet got close enough to Jimin’s heart to kill him or if by some luck he survived

That’s a lie I can’t lie to you guys he’s 1000% going to live through this I can’t keep secrets from you guys, no one dies in this story even if it seems like they might at times we only have one more almost death to get through.

I feel like this chapter had less flowery language than my usual ones in part because it’s got a bit from Jin’s pov and also because everyone is so scared and frozen through the whole thing.

I cannot even begin to tell you how much less stressful the next chapter of bily is than my life, like i would rather GET SHOT AGAIN then be where i currently am, with the same level of anxiety that i have.

i wish i had time to edit this more but alas! its only 2 hours until i'll post this and i'm just finishing it up.

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

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

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

W/c: 8.6k

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

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

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

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

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

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

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

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

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does Jin know?

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

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

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

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

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

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

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

8-7-5-8.

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

“You know-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(thump thump thump)

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

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

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

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

💜💜💜

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.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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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).

💜💜💜

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.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.70)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender. 

Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,

W/c: 12.6k

Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.

There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.

Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.

Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.

For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.

It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.

The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)

You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.

The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.

Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.

Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.

It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.

You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.

A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.

It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.

You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.

The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.

After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.

“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.

You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.

"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.

Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.

Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”

Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”

"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.

"Help me sit on the counter first?"

Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.

Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.

The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.

It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.

Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.

(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).

“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."

“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it” 

their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi. 

Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-” 

Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich. 

"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know." 

Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor." 

Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?" 

Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"

"Both?" 

"Both." 

You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."

"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.

“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.

He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,

"Did you just fucking bite me?"

"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.

Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears. 

"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.

You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head. 

"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.  

"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.

“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.

Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over.  “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is. 

“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!” 

Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise. 

Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.

Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs. 

“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”

Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-” 

Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.

“Come on- epic high is a classic.” 

“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”

At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.

(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)

Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.

Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.

You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever. 

It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.” 

You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 

You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.

"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands. 

Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you. 

“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 

Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-" 

"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 

Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.

He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy. 

“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 

“Still dry,” He says. 

You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from  Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway. 

You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 

Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree. 

Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 

He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 

“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 

“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 

Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through. 

~-~

Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.

"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.

Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.

Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"

Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,

"I don't have anything to wear."

Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.

"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."

"The blue one?"

"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.

"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."

Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."

They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.

You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"

Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.

Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.

It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them.   Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.

You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.

You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.

Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"

"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.

All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.

She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.

They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.

Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.

Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.

Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?

Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-

Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-

You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.

Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.

Tae chose it for you.

You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.

"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.

"I was thinking about my wedding dress."

Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.

But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.

Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories. 

Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?

(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)

"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.

"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too. 

"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."

"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.  

"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."

"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more. 

Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.

You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.  

The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands. 

When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles. 

"Jesus fucking Christ."  

Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.

Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung." 

Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.

"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering. 

"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me." 

Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. 

Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?" 

Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-" 

Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her. 

“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you. 

“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”

And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below. 

It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs. 

They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome. 

“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”

He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair. 

Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could." 

"No one's blaming you hyung-" 

"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.

“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying." 

Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.

Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.

“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized. 

Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”

And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.

Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.

Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.

Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.

The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.

“It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”

Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."

Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.

Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.

You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.

And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.

Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.

Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.

Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.

Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.

Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.

Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.

For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.

Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.

"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."

And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.

“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”

You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”

“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."

Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too.   They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.

Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.

By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice. 

~-~

You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been. 

They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.

You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.

He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul. 

But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying. 

Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck. 

You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's  ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.

You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.

Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there. 

"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-"  he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.

And yet, you still wash him.

You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.

Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.

Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.

His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart. 

You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it. 

Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.

He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook. 

And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol. 

You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon. 

“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”

“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.

“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”

“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”

“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”

Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,

“Yeah, I’d tell you.”

~-~

But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.

The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.

The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.

You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.

“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?

“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”

“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.

There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.

Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."

You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).

the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta. 

Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.

How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now. 

It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels- 

It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest. 

You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls. 

You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true. 

The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do. 

But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?” 

You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side. 

Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again. 

It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep. 

He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle. 

“I bet they were fucking delicious.” 

“Thank you Joonie, they were.” 

Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely. 

“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?” 

“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.

“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out. 

They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream. 

“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway." 

"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.

"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway." 

It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.

“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.

“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”

“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“ 

“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”

“Moonbitch Kookie.” 

You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.

“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it. 

Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”

You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.” 

Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good. 

“You have to be more careful.” 

“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)

The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened. 

Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”

“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.” 

“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.

“I don’t want you to think less of me.” 

Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”

“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.

"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.

"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it.   “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good."   Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.

He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"

"You never asked Yoongi."

"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.

Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”

Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”

Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.

“What do you mean by impartial?”

Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”

Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.

“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”

Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”

At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.

When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.

Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.

“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”

Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”

You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.

“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.

Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”

“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.

Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.

His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.

“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.

Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.

“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”

You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)

Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.

“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”

“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”

“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”

Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”

“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”

Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“

“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-”   “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”

Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!” 

His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.

The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.

You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.

Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long.   “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”

Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?”   Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.”   “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3

i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!

The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3

What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.

idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?

i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.

idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!

i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...

i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.

i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3

Until next time!

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.71)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Freedom isn't always a good thing... sometimes stupid pups get in trouble.

Tags: slight angst, lying, implied psychopath Jin, Confirmed autistic Jimin, discussion of murder and killing others, Jimin and Jin both have dubious morality, needy m/c, Frottage, Teasing, Knotting, knot-fucking, desperate sex, messiness kink, (slight) pleasure dom hobi 👀, public sex, riding, squirting, car sex

W/c: 15.6k

A/n: it's kinda crazy that this chapter, last chapter, and next chapter was supposed to be a single chapter (it would have been over 30k), this one is my least favorite out of the bunch! please give it a bunch of love when it comes out though 🥺 if you don't love it i'll be sad!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack goes back to work the next week, nursing hangovers and hurts and everything in between. Every injury both visible and not.

Hoseok's bruises get covered up by Tae's makeup every morning, color corrector applied in thin layers, and then foundation, and then Pink lipstick kisses over top. Tae's lips, your lips, everyone's lips, pressed to those thankful inches between Hoseok's head and his heart.

It becomes their little ritual- and on the nights that Hobi's nightmares keep him awake- her concealer goes under his eyes too. And his lips get pressed more reverently with kisses. Easing apart his tense pout and his frown like the sun parts petals into bloom. It's sweet, the way that Hoseok surrenders himself so willingly to Tae's doting.

Hoseok doesn't know if he likes the makeup as much as he likes the attention. From both you and her.

There’s barely a morning that you don’t wrap yourself around Hoseok’s back while Tae does his makeup, nuzzling against his nape, sneaking your cold hands under the hem of his sweatshirt. alternating between dragging your throat down the crest of his back so that everyone knows he has an omega to come home to, and sleeping curled between. Staying close to your alpha's (the easy ones, the ones that aren't still mad at you).

Hoseok's not the only one who's still dealing with the aftereffects of what happened. The physical side effects and the mental ones.

Jimin still says up and guards the door most nights too, perched on the edge of the nest listening for anyone or anything that might be coming to hurt you. The protective parts of him fester in the meantime before he heals enough to go back to work. He's got too much time on his hands to wory.

He's only diligent with his physical therapy because you tattle on him to Namjoon when he doesn’t do his exercises. Eager to be good, eager to do anything you can to please the pack alpha.

It hasn’t escaped any of them that you’ve been extra agreeable and extra obedient recently. Eager to please. Eager to make up for what happened. Jimin isn’t bothered by it so much- if only because having something to do seems to make you happy. He’ll gladly tolerate you hounding him.

Especially when you bound up to Namjoon to give him a report when he comes home from work, on the receiving end of a very genuine "good pup, making sure your alphas are careful' from Namjoon. especially on those days when that is the only praise that the pack alpha gives you.

It’s not that Namjoon and Yoongi have been treating you coldly, just that there’s a small distance between the two of them and you. Kisses that would have lasted minutes only last second (or they aren’t initiated at all when it comes to Yoongi). Jimin wishes it didn’t remind him of how Tae treated him after she came out but it does.

Hopefully, like with her, Namjoon and Yoongi just need time.

You ask him about it, midmorning stretched out in Tae’s library room where you both wait for her to finish deciding what dress she’ll torture you both with today. You three have taken to hanging out together here. You and Jimin cuddled up on the couch, doing PT, watching Tictok’s, napping, kissing cuddling. Placing shy touches below the pulled blankets to see how far you can go before Tae notices and stops you both with a disapproving lilt to her eyebrows.

“I said no sex- if you guys are gonna hang out with me while I work- you’ve gotta behave.”

You’d melted below the covers and Jimin had firmly placed his hands back over the covers, noticeably damper than they were the last time Tae saw them.

“Sorry mommy,” recalcitrant enough to avoid a spanking (but maybe that is what you’d wanted- what you’d needed). But getting scolded is part of the fun, teasing, seeing how far you can push each other until you break.

You'd squirmed against Jimin's thigh as she'd gone back to work. clicking away at her keyboard without giving you a second glance. "you're not even going to like, let him finish-" You're whiney. Need and wanting down to your bones, a wanting that is only heightened by the vision Tae strikes today; the peachy set of silky bloomers and ruffled top that shows off the little bit of cleavage she has now.

She'd just leaned over the back of her chair and eyed you up and down. "No, if you want to distract me from my book you can suffer pup."

You'd whined and Jimin had hid his laugh in your shoulder. "No buts pup. Maybe later, If you're good, then you can bounce on Jiminie's knot all pretty for me."

"Yes Mommy." But you hadn't ended up doing any of that. You'd fallen asleep curled up around Jiminie (whose hands had unfortunately remained on his phone and above the covers), to the others already awake and at home and would you please help water the plants with Hoseokie pup? You know he doesn't always notice when they overflow.

It’s been harder for you to ask for things since the day you almost ran away. A wanting that can't be sated by simple touches and kisses simmering low in your stomach. Burning through you at strange moments.

Like another moment when you and Jimin are in the library room again. Tae is reorganizing and fussing. What you'd call nesting if she was an omega. The desk is on the opposite wall today. it's Cramped, it won't stay like this for long. The couch moved below the bay window.

You watch Jimin's face as he looks out that window, at the way that the wind tears at the trees around your house, makes them bob and creek, showing the silvery underside of their leaves.

It’s easier for you to Jimin all sorts of questions because he’s not mad at you. (Sometimes you feel like he's the only one who's not mad at you for what you did.)

“Have you thought about how you’ll do it yet?”  

The paranoid bits stretch out and teem. The worst part of Jimin have festered in the meantime. Maybe he'd be less restless if he had something to do but the danger has passed now.

Moonbyul seems like she’s truly gone, you’ve heard neither hide nor hair from her- absolutely nothing since the day that she left. No one from the family has tried to contact Yoongi. Even Jin’s unceremonious exit from the FBI had gone without struggle or suspicion.

Jimin had just continued to watch the window, the spring raindrops drifting down the pain of glass all slow. “Thought about how I’d do what?”

You’d raised your eyebrow at him, and thankfully Tae had come in and disrupted whatever conversation you might have had about murders that might need doing. Twirling in the doorway and showing off her slinky dark green lingerie for you and tae to oooh and ahhh at. Your questions forgotten.

Sleeping bears don’t do well when they’re poked. Jimin knows that. The others know that. It might seem pity as far as retribution goes (Jimin still gets angry when he sees the bruises on Hobi’s throat or watches Namjoon examine the scars that crisscross your hands, red and angry. Or the nights that tae twitches in her sleep).

Maybe the best retribution is to live like this- free and unincumbered by anything like revenge. Revenge is also a burden. Revenge means you still care about what happened to you, that it still hurts, that you're still bleeding. Jimin doesn't know if he wants to be bleeding anymore. His alpha that hungers for blood and pain wars with what Jimin knows will logically help the pack more.

But Jimin’s not the only one who's feeling a little paranoid. A little unfulfilled.

The pack instills a buddy system for those who go to work still and for any excursions outside the house. No one goes anywhere alone. Jin starts driving Namjoon to work every morning and picking him up every evening. With kisses and coffee and snacks, especially on the days that Namjoon has long surgeries and he comes home exhausted. Jin like Jimin is trying his hardest not to be too idle. He turns in his sparkly FBI badge and his weapon the first day he's sober enough to drive. 

Your recipe book and an audio file of Jimin's, yours, and Yoongi's 'interviews' where you explain everything gets locked in a safe that Jin knows the code to. Gets built into the wall in the basement and plastered over. It’s an afterthought, something just in case (you’ll never need it).

There are a lot of other things for Jin to fixate on now. Not everything is good.   

It’s a difficult conversation that Jin doesn’t want to have. Especially not with the pups. This is a conversation that’s too big, too stressful, too much for you to handle- that Jin is certain of.

You certainly look very pupish this morning, still dressed in the matching pink pj’s that Jin left out for you last night, you’d firmly followed his showering instructions not to scrub too hard and even let him button you into them and brush your hair (something you don’t always let Jin do, sometimes you ask for your mommy to do it instead and Tae takes that pleasure from Jin’s fingers with a feral smile).

Your body perfectly moisturized and taken care of, skin glowing and supple and healthy under Jin's inspectory touches. A perfectly obedient pup. So so good it had Jin purring and scenting you so thoroughly you’d gone sweet and dizzy and dependent.

But for once, for this morning, Jin feels like he's dependent on you.

The whole pack will be dependent on you financially. If you decide what Jin thinks you’ll choose.

Jin looks at you across the table (small, yawning, still sleepy, tipping into namjoon and clearly itching for an alpha and a nest) and can’t help but wonder if this conversation, this ask, is best left for later. After having so many difficult conversations in such a short period of time he's lost his taste for them.

Without Jin earning an income right now, the pack’s finances aren’t quite as orderly as they could be. As they should be. Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon are the only ones working now, and Jimin won’t be bringing nearly as much in as he was before- something Jin knows the pup is worried about- he’d even asked if he should get a second job. Having any of his pups overworked is something Jin can’t handle.

And Namjoon is already overworked. Namjoon confessed a little thoughtlessly a few days ago after his first big surgery back- that it’s a good thing he hadn’t quit his job yet. He might not quit it at all now with the pack in limbo. That had been your last straw, and you’d asked Jin if there was anything you could do to help.

That’s a lie- you knew there was something you could do. Sitting in that little file that Moonbyul had dropped off with Hobi’s car all those months ago. The things you’d inherited from Geumjae’s estate as his late wife. The beach house abroad, the apartment in Miami, and the brownstone that had housed his final moments in a city far far away that you don’t ever want to return to.

What other use can it serve?

Yoongi had used most of his Geumjae’s life insurance payout to buy the house and renovate it. And you’ve been living off the leftovers since then, but even that sum won't last forever.

It's a good thing property in Manhattan never depreciates in value.

“This is a lot of money, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to-”

You roll your eyes at Jin, crossing your arms bratty, if Jin were less stressed he might be inclined to take you over his lap for that one. But he wants all of your faculties on board right now. Big financial decisions and omegaspace do not mix well.

Jin is to anxious about this to want to make you submit. Too worried about pushing you too far, asking you for something you might not want to give and overstepping. The clothes and doting are easier- Jin knows exactly how to take care of you that way. He knows exactly what you want when it comes to that.

“Jin, I do not give a shit, like honestly.”

Namjoon is wordless between the two of you, massaging down your and Jin’s necks to soothe you. You don’t understand why he’s pussyfooting around it. What Geumjae has left you and trying to find something to do with it, some way to help the pack, isn't something you're nervous or unsure about. Not even a little bit.

You don’t mind, you really don’t mind. If it helps them stay fat and happy, they can take all of it.

His eyes go softer, less cagey. You lean forward at the kitchen table. Reaching for his hand. He lets you take it. “Jin, just say it-” Jin bites his lip and throws the pen onto the table with a clatter.

“If you sell the house in New York City and put even like 1/3 of it into a trust. The pack would be set for the rest of our lives off the interest alone. Even more if we go the private equity route. Even our kids could-”

Tae calls from the library room, leaning back in her chair to shout through the open door. Clearly listening in on your conversation. “I am not raising trust fund pups hyung!”

Namjoon barks a laugh, “no one is talking about pups yet Tae” he strokes down the nape of Jin’s neck gently, delicately. And you know he’s fixated on the idea of /////yet and when that yet will become soon.

Jin's not getting any younger. Although you and Jungkook are still firmly in your 20's. Jin's going to have to make some big life decisions soon. Not this year and not the next. But the year after definitely.

It’s hard for Jin, to balance what he knows is logically here on the table and what is best for you. He's not sure that he'd make the same choice- the decision to support a pack that you have not known for a calendar year yet (although the anniversary of Jimin finding Yoongi again is sneaking up on you. You’ll have to figure out a day that you want as your anniversary.)

To make decisions with them in mind seems a little…illogical. From a practical perspective. Jin has had these sentiments shoved down his throat since he was a pup. all omega's have.

Don't mate someone until you've known them for a year, don't move in together until you've dated someone for 6 months, and certainly don't combine finances if you don’t like the shape of an alpha’s knot. be a strong independant omega!

You reach for your water and namjoon grabs it for you, holding it so that you can suck at the draw. putting it at the other end of the table to that you don't risk spilling it. wiping the moisture off the corner of your lip when he's done.

Jin huffs. Independance is never something you've wanted- clearly.

All said and done It’s an easy decision for you. Giving them space and time to heal after what you’ve brought down on them and a bit of financial freedom on top of your newfound physical freedom.

You don’t put 1/3 of it into a trust, you end up putting all of it after some discussion.

Jin handles everything involved with selling the brownstone. From contacting a broker to verifying through lawyers that still hold ownership over the property and getting everything notarized. He does all the legwork of opening up a fucking trust to put the frankly insane amount of money that the brownstone goes for in it. Your name on it because namjoon had insisted, and then the pack alpha and omega.

You’re incredibly thankful that you don’t have to go back to the city (especially since you hated it so much in winter and wet springs.) You don’t even bother going back there to get some of your things. You know it probably accumulated dust in the year since you’ve been there. Jin even contacts an estate sale company that sells all of your and Geumjae’s things.

Jin has spent most of his newly gotten free time doing exactly what he’s always done; taking care of his pups.

He’s got interviews with a therapist tomorrow for Hobi (this one has had a very cohesive background check done on him, Jin has learned his lesson). And there's a nail appointment on the books scheduled for Tae today, her hair appointment and facial 2 days from now. A doctor appointment for you and Jungkook the day after. A time slot for Hoseok’s car to get a tune-up later this week (after Jimin’s reckless driving it’s been running a little rough). And the final check-up with Jimin’s surgeon the day after.

You don't know how you'd keep everyone's appointment straight, but maybe that's why jin is the pack omega and you're not. Everything is where it should be. Jin rather enjoys it too.

Namjoon’s scrubs get steamed and hung up before he leaves for work every day, a lunch packed with cute heart-cut strawberries and carefully arranged rice and slices of chicken. Nesting materials warmed in the dryer before you and Jimin and Tae settle in for your mornings of undisturbed library time. Jungkook’s workout clothes color color-coordinated and his long hair brushed shiny and curly with a pat to his bum out the door.

Jin only realizes he might be going a little overboard when he starts a chart to monitor the pack's water consumption. You pressed along his spine trying to rub away your name on the little whiteboard. "If you make me drink that much water I'm gonna have to pee like all the time-"

"Careful," Yoongi had teased, voice rough and gravely from disuse. "You might make Jin want to keep track of that too."

Jin had hummed considering it genuinely, and you and Jimin had jumped up to drag him on to other things in the house before he got any ideas.

Jin spent the rest of this particular morning helping Tae do her hair. Jin’s pups need to look their best at all times. She curled the front, and Jin curled the back so that she didn't have to stretch her poor little arms. A kiss pressed to her knuckles and a "let Jinnie do it my pretty pup" sounded persuasive enough.  

Everyone is pup to Jin right now. In his element. Playacting as the perfect house omega.

Jin and Jimin do their assessment while you, Tae, and Yoongi are at the nail salon.

It's a Wednesday and a few days before he goes back to work from injury leave. Although Jimin enjoyed the first week of lounging with you and Tae in the library room watching her write her story (and get predictably nothing done with you and him there to tempt her) now Jimin has gotten too antsy to settle. Going to the gym with Jungkook yesterday helped a little.

It’s the last snow for the season and the big fluffy flakes hit the window with a faint clink. Jin and Jimin have a few hours of privacy to get this done; the psychopathy assessment that Jimin had asked after the other day, drunk and on the floor of the kitchen bellies full of your sweets.

Jin should probably manage the packs sugar intake too.

His pack omega instincts are settled in a way they aren’t usually now sitting here with Jimin in the spare bedroom (a room that will one day become the pack’s nursery and pup nesting room. But Jin doesn’t know that yet).

Jimin lounges on the window seat and stares up at the sky while he talks and answers Jin’s questions. Jin sits, legs crossed in a big blue velvet chair that you and Hobi found on one of your thrifting walks the other day.

You’ve been going on more of those- walks with Jungkook and Hobi around the neighborhood when the weather is nice. to see the flowers- the daffodils and snowdrops and magnolias starting to bud. You stumbled into an estate sale last week where you bought all sorts of things including the velvet chair and an old rug that yoongi had sighed over and then relented, dragging it off to the basment to work on restoring it.

Jin knows you're working up to attending classes at Jungkook’s gym (you have an open invitation from Wonho). Jin will never not be proud of you, that you seem to be at least trying to get healthier and be more active.

He lounges with a notepad and a few printouts in front of him. A copy of the DSM-five is under the chair just in case he needs to reference it. His silk dressings gown is yellow and green striped with blue and pink floral decals on the shoulders. A tad more eccentric than Jin usually goes because this silk robe used to belong to Tae before she switched to pink everything, folded over his striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Pink, also Tae's.

It’s easier for Jimin to do this if he doesn’t have to stare at Jin's face, dewy underneath the thick-rimmed glasses. Jin has had more time to devote to his grooming now that he’s unemployed.

Jin listens, and Jimin talks for what feels like hours. laid out in his most comfy sweats set, also cleaned and pressed by Jin earlier (do sweatpants even need to be ironed?) This one is rough in all the right places, worn familiar from years of wear. Jin doesn't even know where Jimin got it- he checked but the tag had already been cut out, probably years ago.

It's strange, how easy it is to ignore things until you connect the dots.

He sits up towards the end looking at Jin and fiddling with the new earrings in his ears. Teasing at the loose cool chain with the tips of his fingers like noodle bats at the tassels on the edge of the curtain in Tae's library room. It's an absentminded action- Jimin's body is too loud for his mind to think of should and shouldn’t’s.

You've warned him time and time again that if he plays with the fresh piercings too much, they might get infected. Namjoon has done his best to dot disinfectant whenever he gets home and, in the morning, too sometimes.

But Jimin always always fiddles. He can't help it. Small bits of paper, the ends of his hoodie that somehow always end up in his mouth. Tae's hands, the soft little ends of Tae's hair, Tae's jewelry, Tae’s everything. It’s weird to see Jimin talking if he’s not fiddling with something.

He’s nervous, so he fiddles. Jin has notes and a completed screening form in front of him. Looking at Jimin now with fresh eyes Jin doesn’t know how he never noticed. How he never put it together.

The psychopathy assessment below taunts Jin.

Failure to conform to social norms concerning lawful behaviors, such as performing acts that are grounds for arrest. Deceitfulness, repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for pleasure or personal profit. Lack of remorse, being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another person

"And did it bother you? When you killed those people?"

"Those bad people hyung," Jimin corrects, and Jin can't help his smile.

"Did it bother you when you killed the bad people, Minnie?"

Jimin fiddles, quiet, like he doesn’t want to admit it. "Only when it got messy."

"Why do you think the mess bothered you?" Jin’s asking half because he wants to know, and half because he’s genuinely curious.

Jimin’s hands rub up and down his knees and he shifts forward than backward. But his words come out even and measured. "Because it wasn't the way it was supposed to go- the way I organize it in my head, the same way you probably think through what clothes will make Namjoonie hyung blush the most. It didn't happen the way it should have."

Monsters aren't supposed to bleed.

"The only way I don't get overwhelmed by things is whey I make sure they happen they way they should."

"What does it feel like when you get overwhelmed minnie?"

"It's like- fear I think? My chest gets really tight, and everything gets extra extra loud. It makes my alpha like- riled. And I have to remind myself that I don't need to get angry about it."

They move on to other topics, different than Jimin’s apparent lack of remorse (it's not lack of remorse, but conditional remorse. Jimin only feels within the firm lines of what he believes he should feel) But they circle back to it because Jimin uses the words ‘bad people’ more than once.

"Why do you think that they needed to be bad to kill them? Why does if they were bad matter to you so much?"

"Because that’s the rule- bad people are supposed to die, aren’t they?" Jin cannot fault Jimin for that- because it is the rule. Generally. You do not Mourne monsters. You do not Mourne the villains.

"I'm not so sure about that, plenty of bad people never get punished."

"Like Moonbyul and me you mean?" Jin almost breaks the pen he's holding, almost.

"Do you believe that you're a bad person Minnie?"

Jimin bites his lips, looking down and away, not fidgeting at all. But his teeth work away at his lip. It takes a second for him to gather his words, a second to respond. Jimin has always been hard to read.

"I was hoping you would tell me. I can’t ask Tae. She wouldn’t be able to tell me the truth."

No, Jin always noticed. He just didn’t think of it beyond late-night musings wrapped in Namjoon’s arms. Gossiping about their pack because If there’s one thing that the pack omega and pack alpha like to talk about- it’s their 6 pups. They used to gossip about you the most that way- but Namjoon has been resistant to discuss you recently and Jin doesn't have to ask why.

He sees the conflict and love in his soulmate as easily as he sees the diagnosis written out on the paper right now. He'll check the DSM later for autism spectrum disorder but he won't find anything that varies from his notes.

Uses only limited facial expressions to communicate, frequently flicking switches or spinning objects, speaking in a repetitive way, narrow or intense interests, having trouble with changes to their schedule or changing from one activity to another, and hyper-reactivity to sensory input.

Sometimes talking about things too seriously does more damage. Jin keeps that particular diagnosis to himself.

Jimin looks at him imploringly, not reaching out to touch, because maybe Jimin is a little too overstimulated right now from bearing his heart to initiate contact. His eyes are bright and hopeful. They are not glassy and vacant. Jin has looked at countless pictures of psychopaths before- and none of them have eyes quite like Jimin's

They’ve been at it for 4 hours already, Jin has gotten up twice to pee when Jimin sits up without the intention of lying back down.

"So, what do you think hyung? Am I crazy? Am I a psychopath?"

I think you're a whole lot of things Minnie. Autistic for one with a hyper fixation on the people you love, Tae in particular.

Jin winces, looking Jimin up and down, and the alpha flushes but stays still under Jin’s evaluation. His sensory issues are painfully on display in an extra big sweatshirt, the ends of his sweatshirt pulled loose so that they're not tight around his wrists. His hips, baggy pants, and slides. Jimin’s toes flex, like he can’t help but push at the one item of clothing that constrains him.

He never has the same problem with the neat dark suits that his bodyguard job makes him wear. When Jimin knows what's expected of him- he doesn't have a problem following the rules or lying.

Bad people die. That's the rule, isn't it? Jin has a tallied kill count on the corner of the page, every time Jimin references a different murder over the last 5 hours, Jin has added a tally.

He's run out of room on the notepad.

Jin will bring it up to him later. Will tell him later, to be sure. Jimin asks after something much scarier, much more dangerous to his pack right now. Jin will do anything he needs to do to protect his pack- and that's part of the problem.

There are things that Jimin doesn’t need to know.

Jin covers that evaluation with his fingers. Only a few words are viewable between the narrow edges of his long fingers.

A peculiar lack of empathy, but not a lack of anxiety. An ability to distinguish between right and wrong but not an inherent understanding of those concepts. A tendency to lie. But is that really so scandalous? So damning? Is lying not a necessity and an instinct when the truth can do so much damage? Would Jin blame anyone for lying about these things?

“I do think that psychopaths don’t wonder if they’re psychopaths Jimin. Asking these questions of yourself isn’t a bad thing. If you were crazy, I’m not sure you’d care to be here.” And you’d be trying to convince me too.

Jin stands up and walks over to Jimin the one or two steps. Leaving his notepad behind to cup Jimin’s cheek, running his thumb along the alpha’s plush lips. Jimin’s eyes are wide and glassy, unable to tear themselves away from Jin. Jin’s omega wants to purr at the show of devotion, at the sight of Jimin below him almost on his knees. Jimin places a gentle palm on Jin’s thigh, Just to feel.

"I don't think you're crazy Jimin, I just think you're an alpha who will do anything for the people you love." Is it lying if he believes it to be the truth?

"And there's nothing wrong with that?" Jimin asks, Jimin’s hand fiddled with the tasseled end of Jin’s dressing gown with a delightful shiver of sensory pleasure.

Jin leans down and presses his lips to the alpha’s brow. Jimin almost sags against Jin’s front.

"There's nothing wrong with that at all. Come with Jinnie. It's well past time for lunch, and I won't be able to stand it if my pups are left unfed."

~-~

Jin spends his days gloriously unemployed putting the pack back together piece by treasured piece. But that’s not the only thing that needs his healing touch.

He spends most of his time helping Yoongi restore the house to its former glory. Switching out crown molding and cracked wall sconces. He rarely ever changes out of his matching pajamas and matching pink sweat sets even if they get speckled with dust and wood stain and eventually paint. He thoroughly enjoys sitting elbow to elbow with Yoongi and just- living. Just existing next to the beta without any thoughts or secrets between them.

They don’t talk much, sometimes Yoongi plays music, and sometimes he picks the paint splatters out of Jin’s hair, or the splinters out from his fingers oh so gently. Yoongi’s been quieter since everything went down- if that even seems possible. Less likely to joke, the smiles when Jin puts his paint-splattered hands-on Yoongi’s ass don’t last quite so long.

But unlike with Jimin, any words of wisdom and questions aren’t met receptively; Yoongi just walks away. And Jin knows he’s not ready to talk about it yet. Jin worries that your and his relationship is only part of the problem.

It’s a good thing Yoongi’s fairly organized and has kept all the paint buckets in the coat closet under the stairs. He teaches Jin how to fill the bullet holes in the banister with wood filler and sand it down. The muddy stain sits until they can hardly tell. After a few days of their hard work, it feels like the last few weeks are just a bad memory.

He spends his afternoons polishing away the bullet holes in the antique doorframes, re-spackling the parts of the wall you crashed into that got indented. Every little fleck of blood that leaves even the barest hint of a stain against the ceiling. The drywall cut out and replaced in certain spots. They spend it in companionable silence and Jin tells himself that staying by Yoongi’s side is enough.

Now that the pack knows that they’re not going to be discovered right away there is time to take care of the evidence beyond just bleach and cleaner. The cops haven’t come to their door even once. Not even a noise complaint from your days of revelry.

They're meticulous in the way that they check over every inch of the house. Jin goes over everything with luminol and a blacklight just to be sure. The bights of Yoongi’s eyes extra white as he watches. But no one is better at covering up a murder than them. (If they had a mind for it, they might have a handy side business. Jin jokes, but Yoongi just huffs and doesn't dignify it with a response.)

They dig up the body later.

They make sure everyone else is out of the house. Tae’s hair appointment serves several purposes beyond making sure the pack's prettiest alpha feels her best. Tae goes a little lighter- blonder, less red, and more chestnut. Long and brushing past her shoulders now. Perfect for the spring that hovers on the edge of every breath of warm air.

It won’t be long now. The daffodils are already coming up in places in the front yard. Yellow and bright and happy.

They put the man in a metal bucket, fraying clothes and all. Jimin and Jin mix up the chemicals wearing full hazmat suits. Lye bubbles and burns and leaves little left of the man other than some errant buttons that must have been on his pants and a twisted mess of a zipper.

Jin and Jimin toss them into the fireplace upstairs before anyone gets home, watching as they bubble and burn and disappear like a bad memory. The assassin and lye slurry gets poured down the drain, and carried out to the ocean to find rest- no longer haunting you. Yoongi mixes up more concrete and pours the hole and it’s like it never happened, like Tae and you never murdered that man.

When the pack gets home Jin has picked a few daffodils, put them on the kitchen table, and opened up all the windows. Tae twirls when Jimin asks to show him her hair. The way it falls in pretty ringlets.

"Beautiful"

“Fumigation” Jin will tell their neighbors when they ask about the smell. the subtly tangy chemicals that fill the culdisac. "You know our cat, the angry one, brought a whole punch of pests in. You might want to test your basement too."

Jin is the best liar in the pack for a reason.  

You come home laden with bags and just cuz gifts. You’d gotten your hair trimmed and Jungkook too- tight on the sides and long on the top. Jungkook’s bought new star-shaped pillows to go with the light blue couch and Namjoon brings home a pink moon one for you. A stuffed animal one with floppy feet and a tastefully neutral expression that you clutch to your chest during movie nights.

On nights like tonight, when it's so quiet that you need something soft to hold onto- least you remember other deceptively quiet nights.

The rain outside has lulled to a gentle pitter patter and the pack is likewise lulled to a similarly gentle sleep. Moving this way and that, settling like the bones of the house that creek with every harsh gust of wind. Asleep around you in heaps.

You nested earlier with Jin and Jungkook- fluffed every pillow and folded every blanket. It’s not quite as fluffy as your old couch but it is bigger, large enough to accommodate everyone lying this way and that. Jin purrs are sleep deep and soft. Almost pearly in the nighttime.

It's so quiet.

Your hair catches the highlights of the TV screen when it bursts bright and colorful. Hobi twirls a lock of your hair around his fingers while the movie drones on. Animated this time- because none of you have had the stomach for any movie that features too much violence. Nothing lifelike yet. You’ll stick to familiar fantasies in the meantime.

You're curled on your side and stretched out, your feet in Namjoon's lap. The top of your head so close to Hobi's thigh that you can feel the warmth of it along the top of your head. You're not touching him. But his warmth and safe alpha musk is close and thick. More satisfying to your nesting instincts than any blanket, to have your alpha nearby and alert.

Not that you're not welcome, Noodle occupied that spot until recently. Yawning and slinking off with a jingle of his bell collar once Hobi alternated from petting him to petting you.

He twirls a lock of your hair around his finger and watches the movie.

It’s a movie that you've seen before. It's familiar backtrack the perfect thing to fall asleep to here. The room is dark. The blue-red then pink light of the television flashes with scenes. Sounds too far away as your eyes get heavier and heavier. You're not the only one who's clearly feeling the effects of the nighttime or the smooth unaffected happy scents of your packmates.

Tae in particular smells rich and flowery, happy sprawled out between Jungkook and Jimin and Yoongi. Jimin’s hand sits under the hem of her white tank top, the translucent lace edge hides the movements of his fingers as he strokes up and over her hip lazily. Your mate's face is hidden in her hair, and Jungkook is belly down draped over their legs. Your mate's long fingers rest still against his spine. His shirt pulled up to the small of his back. His small huffs are infrequent and gentle. Like a puppy twitching in their sleep.

Namjoon's loud snore punctuates the quiet from the other side of the couch, his head tipped back against the cushions at an uncomfortable angle. Lost to the world like Jinnie tucked small into his side. His cheek fluffy and resting against the hollow of the pack alpha’s throat. Nose tucked to the safest place in existence.

Well, maybe the second safest. Hoseok’s lap is empty afterall.

You never would have said that Jin was skinny or waifish before, but after quitting his job it’s clear that the stress was affecting him. He looks healthier now. Less sallow-skinned and the space under his eyes is less hollow. Jungkook too has a pink glow to his cheeks- although that might just be where he’s rubbed it raw over Tae’s tight And Jimin’s side. He’s half asleep while he scents them. He mumbles and grumbles something like a purr before he goes quiet and still. 

Even Yoongi at the end of the couch, has his eyes closed, although you can tell they’re moving under his eyelids, his breath coming out with little huffs that tease the top of Jimin’s hair, sock feet stretched out. You close your eyes and open them, eyes drawn to yoongi at first sight. he's always the first person you look for when you open your eyes.

Only to see Noodle purring from his lap. Your and Hobi's company abandoned in favor of his new favorite person.

“Traitor,” you mumble. Hobi laughs quietly.

"We should take his treats until he comes back to us."

"Noodle? or Yoongi?"

"Both." you giggle and turn onto your side.

His fingernails itch down the back of your neck, not a scruff but close and you turn till you're belly down on the couch so that he has a better vantage point to play with your hair. Your eyes flutter, and when they open again Hobi is still staring at the screen. You're the only two awake and half his face is colored green from the movie.

When you look at the screen- Howl and Sophie are traipsing across flower-filled fields. colorful and bright.

"We should find a place like that, when spring really starts up in a few weeks."

Hoseok's eyes are dark and reflective when he looks down at you, huffing fondly, teasing, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"Maybe. You gonna say yes if I am?"

"Maybe." He teases, and you reach up to pinch his thigh, he takes your hand before you can and holds it, pinning it up there on his thigh. You tangle your hand with his pant leg and leave it there. He goes back to watching the movie and you go back to watching him. Quiet and peaceful in the silence of gentle nighttime

“It always bothered me” Hobi knows you’re watching him. Even without looking down. Yoongi's other hand rests on the back of his neck, you see his slack fingers twitch when he looks at you.

“What?”

“He didn’t use real flower types when he animated this- they sort of look like cow vetch- but they’re not.”

You snort, rubbing your eye, “only you would complain about the flowers in Howls Moving Castle.”

Hobi huffs, his fingers trailing over your forehead gently, smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. Hand sliding to your shoulder under your arm.

"Come here, I don't bite." You go with little protest. You let him usher you up onto your knees, scooting across the couch until your head and most of your body is sitting in his lap. Laying your heavy body down. You tuck your legs to the side and someone else other than Namjoon snores but it doesn’t matter who. The eight of you tangled here.

"We should wake everyone up and go upstairs."

"Leave them for a minute. This is my favorite part."

He hesitates, looking down at you, then slowly, like his hand can feel the weight of the gesture, he draws your hair away from your face, the pads of his fingers brushing the corner where your ear becomes your jaw, his pulse by your ear visible in every little tremble. You breathe, and Hobi touches your neck, just mindless circles, eyes eventually drawn back to the TV.

“This place is gorgeous Howl! it’s like a dream.”

You swallow, and you suddenly feel more awake than you have in years, in months. It's frightening the sudden clarity at which you are aware of him- of everything. The softness of his faintly calloused hands, the feeling of his flannel pj's rough under your cheek. The smell of the peach-scented body wash he must have used in the shower earlier. Everything about him in frightening clarity.

You like the way he's touching you, over your cheek and down your throat. None of you doesn't like it. None of you is afraid of what Hoseok might do next. You're not even thinking about it. An alpha has his hands on your neck and you feel-

You feel perfectly at ease, perfectly happy, perfectly in love.

It's like you've been sleepwalking this whole time, or maybe that your soul has taken a vacation, forsaken your body for greener pastures, and then snapped back to this moment right now. Your belly feels full of almost there laughter. You're tired but you're not exhausted. Your shoulders don’t even ache. There isn’t a lump in your throat.

Your breath is so smooth and so easy when you exhale and inhale. You can breathe.

Hobi’s face flashes blue, then the brightest chartreuse. His hand finds the popcorn bowl, and part of it misses, hitting somewhere in your hair but you don’t care at all. You look up at him, watching. Chest going all tight again- your body is fighting it, whatever this feeling is. You're simultaneously more awake than you've ever been and suddenly- not sure if you're not sleeping.

His wrist is over your nose and you nuzzle into it as he reaches for another handful of popcorn, fighting back tears. even as one curl falls from his overful fist and hits your face.

He mindlessly picks the popcorn out of your hair, eating it anyway (at least Jungkook didn't put too much butter in it) He doesn't realize that something is very wrong yet (that something is very very right).

“Sorry.”

“S’fine”

Hobi goes back to watching the movie and you wait a few more minutes, a few more seconds fighting back tears, before you disturb the quiet again. 

"Hobi," Your voice is quiet and scratching. He doesn't hear you over the movie. Not at first.

Your heart is so thick in your throat and you stretch out. Your body is truly lax for what feels like the first time in ages. Not a bit of tension in your muscles. Your head doesn’t feel so heavy, and that vaguely sick feeling that’s always sort of in your stomach is gone. You breathe and it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel tight. It’s easy.

Namjoon mumbles near your feet. And Jimin lies Tae down more properly, disturbing Yoongi a little, Noodle hops off his lap and slinks off into the darkness, and everyone re-settles. Everything is slow and simple.

And safe.

Your hand goes vicelike on Hobi’s wrist and he looks down at you, inhaling sharply. There is no hatred in his face, though there hasn't been in months. There is nothing in his eyes besides the most blush pink love, a love that speaks of roses and bumblebees and butterflies- every other small flying thing that has nurtured the world to life. The panic is immediate. This is not a feeling that you are used to. This is not a feeling that you remember.

You don't remember the last time you felt safe.

"I feel- Hobi I feel safe. I feel so safe right now- Hobi- I can't-" 

You’re frantic with the knowledge of it, words rushed and a little panicked, you’ve forgotten this feeling, how complete and peaceful it is. Peaceful and yet panicked because this is not a feeling that you're used to.

The knowledge thrums through you, the relief choking you with its pretty purple vines. His hands go ridged in your hair, knotting a little before they smooth it out. Your scent- it's not unhappy, but it is pungent. Hobi curls his body over you, bowing to protect it from any unseen threat. He would protect you from anything that came through the front door. Anyone.

He smiles down at you gently, petting your throat, down the side of your body. Oh so gentle. "I know it's- it's good, right? It's okay. Right?"

"Yeah- it's okay, it’s-"

And it is okay. More than okay. It’s okay even when the tears form at the corner of your eyes and find their death in Hobi’s lips as he leans lower to kiss them away so softly you hardly feel it. He knows what this is. He’s happy to hold you through it, the first time your body has let go. Relinquished the tightness and control of being on edge. That little thing that makes prey animals prey animals. The part of you that has always been more animal than human, more fight and flight than fawn.

But you're safe now, all the hard things are over. all the hard things aren't heavy anymore because you're safe. Here in Hobi's lap, here in the house that Yoongi made for you all. You're safe.

It’s a feeling you can’t explain. Like why the snow smells clean and why the air smells like a memory sometimes. Safety is one of those intangible things, you know when it’s here and when it’s gone.

He only hopes that this time, it’s here to stay.

You feel safe in his arms, and you feel safe when minutes later Namjoon wakes from a particularly loud snore. You're asleep finally, but your name is the first on his lips.

Namjoon smacks his lips, scenting the distress on the air without opening his eyes. “Pups? What’s wrong?"

Hobi smiles at Joon, his half-asleep pack alpha brain running paces while his instincts have gone miles. "It's okay Joon, she's just happy, go back to sleep."

"Okay, love you," the pack alpha grumbles out. Curling back over Jin’s body with his, all but pinning the pack omega to the couch. Jin just purrs louder.

"Love you too Joonie." Hobi looks down at you, holding you in his lap, and thinks. Yeah, we're both gonna be safe, aren't we?

(When you wake in the morning, you’re back in the nest upstairs. You smell like Hobi and Yoongi and You don’t remember being carried there at all; you just remember the comfort.)

~-~

You do not spend the next week helping Yoongi and Jin fix the house. you spend the next week baking.

Luckily the kitchen escaped most of the damage in your gunfight. Everything is unharmed except for a small spot by the coffee station where a bullet lodged itself in the drywall and one spot in the blue tile backsplash that needs re-doing.

Yoongi waits for that last, hovering, watching you hum along to the music and scoop out things into little trays. Onto the baking pans, you do not catch him watching. But when a glass breaks, he's there waiting with a dustpan to sweep it up.

He doesn't manage to protect you against every hurt however. there are some things that you just can't anticipate.

You go through every recipe you’ve ever made, honey cakes and macarons that take several tries to get right. Pretty Raspberry Charlottes with meticulously arranged raspberries and ladyfingers. Chocolate cookies with crackly tops. Red bean buns and pineapple cakes.

You make everything in your cookbook once and then again. Tweaking the recipes and adjusting them to copy them over into a new recipie book that Hoseok gets you.

(It's not a courting present, it's not- he swears)

(It's totally a courting present)

The book has a thick pink cover, a snap-in binding so that you can take pages in and out at will. And a small pink tulip on the front cover that quickly gets stained with butter, lemon juice, and a tiny tiny bit of blood.

“You need to be more careful.” yoongi says, in his pj’s. hair all spiky from where jin gave it a fresh cut in the kitchen last night. Short enough that it makes his cheeks look all chubby. A band-aid in his hands. You’re pretty sure there’s still a little bit of his hair on the kitchen floor, but you’ve never been one to complain about that sort of thing so you let it slide. you let namjoon wrap your finger with the bandaid with a small whine.

"I was being careful- I just-"

“I was watching her hyung,” Jimin says, a little fluffy, a little ruffled. His headphones pulsing dully around his throat. You read between the lines with that and make no comment. I was watching her hyung, I know she didn’t do it on purpose.

You got him a pair of nice over-the-ear headphones last week and picked them out with Hobi’s help. They’re the kind that makes everything- even the most grating hum – ease away into silence. Your gift has helped a lot more than any of them anticipated when you’d first set out on your “let's figure out what makes Jimin have grumpy pup time” Adventure.

Some things had been easy, and routine. No microfiber, no oily foods. other things are less anticipated- his leg hair. A trigger he didn’t even know he had. Discovered after he watched Tae shave in the bathroom, the air all hot, the sudsy pool of water foaming pink as Tae filled it up and sat on the edge. Jimin's heavy eyes followed her as he asked why she does it, why you do it too.

"Wow It's like- really smooth."

"Can I try?"

"Are you sure you don't just want to feel?"

"I'm sure."

Tae had shaved him, oh so gently, gripping around the back of his knees. and Jimin hadn't realized, hadn't known what kind of effect it had on him until he was sitting in the nest in utter bliss a solid hour afterward. Rubbing his legs together like a cricket, absolutely lost to the sensation of skin on skin and no tugging.

"Can you do it tomorrow? Please? I wanna feel like this every day," a relaxed laugh warping his words. "Wow leg hair like totally sucks- I didn't know I didn't- I didn't know at all, I didn't realize-"

There are so many things you don't realize that hurt. You and Tae hand cuddled up close to him, rubbing up and down his thighs to feel how soft Minnie's skin actually was. Gentle. Your touches ease away his distress.

"Sorry Minnie, it won’t feel the same, you have to wait a few days for it to grow out."

So no leg hair, no sellophane. Absolutely no tags on clothing. Headphones when things get too loud. Jimin goes quiet and soft and gentle with the headphones. He tries not to wear them all the time, but when the house goes particularly loud in the afternoons after he's come home from work- it's become his new favorite thing. To sit in Tae's library room with her and enjoy a few moments of companionable quiet.

It's good, it makes you happy that Jimin is leaning a bit more into the sensory stuff than usual since his tentative diagnosis from Jin. The rest of the pack had completely accepted it, almost without a second thought. A few careful nuzzles and a few reassuring kisses.

Jungkook had immediately set out to make a list of Jimin’s safe foods. “I don’t know if I even have any- I don’t know if it’s like an autism sensory thing Jinnie just said that I’ve got something.” But the secretive looks Jin had sent the rest of you had been proof enough. You all believe the pack omega’s words like they’re gospel. And really- when it just comes to loving the people you love and listening to them to love them better that's an easy concession to make.

And it's also a little fucking cute when Jimin leans into the sensory stuff. Yoongi ruffles his hair now where the headphones sat Making the hair that it pressed down poof up again.

“It’s okay Minnie, accidents happen.”

Everyone’s been sensitive to Minnie recently. So careful and intentional with the way that they love him. So much so that they’re letting other things slip through the cracks.

It’s not a big deal. It’s really not- you’d gotten used to a certain level of contact from them over the past few months and while you never audibly complain about it and you’d never admit it. One fact remains; unavoidable and inescapable, haunting you in your simple moments.

You’re fucking needy.

You can only take so much- so many times of Jungkook coming home with the front of his shirt sweat-damp from a run, pulling up and showing off his abs too cool off. Of Namjoon when he changes into pajamas, tiny little shorts that show off all his thighs straining and pulling. Jimin when he’s stretched out, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, all growly and close to Tae whose skirt is pulling high.

Your mate washing his hands in the sink definitely shouldn’t leave you with your mouth dry, slinking off to the upstairs bathroom to clean up just so that no one scents it on you.

It’s embarrassing. You feel like a freshly presented pup.

No one has…sought you out since your little mishap. No one has let their hungry touches linger and go hungrier. No one has given you exactly what you know you need since Hobi- before Moonbyul. Almost 3 weeks ago now.

But to put pressure on them now, when it’s clear that maybe- you need to tread lightly when you already have so much to apologize for. It Feels like too much too soon. You’re not a monster- you can control yourself.

In the meantime, you bake your heart away. Needing something to get your mind off them. The whole house is littered with powdered sugar and sawdust, dusted with frosting and wood filler. There isn’t a single shelf left in the fridge that isn’t covered with cakes or sticky custard tarts, or personal cheesecakes topped pretty with heart-cut strawberries.

The only one Jimin had said was slightly grating to him was the super sticky raspberry tarts. So Tae feeds them to him with a giggle, then Yoongi leans in close, demanding the same treatment, his lips gently swallowing tae's long fingers whole.

You shiver and watch.

"It's so sticky," Yoongi licks forward, lapping at tae's fingers, "but sweet!"

You can't stop your hungry look as you watch Tae lick the whipped cream off the top of a tart, her tongue darting out to lick over her lips. feeding tae a bit of whipped cream. some of it gets on his face and jimin smacks his pulsh lips, glossy.

You feel like you want to smack your face into the table. You actually do grip it hard. You wonder if it's normal, to want so much. To want things so hard. your cheeks feel so hot you might be able to back cookies off them.

Breath crusts your ear, lips just barely brushing your skin "these are really yummy."

You jump, Hobi's next to you and he grins, his fingers traitorously resting on the edge of the counter and you know he knows exactly what you were just thinking. What you were just wanting. You blush hot and needy, embarrassed at being caught staring at them. Busying yourself with pulling the remaining tarts off the drying rack and packing them away with parchment paper.

Tae's cheeks are speckled with powdered sugar. And she giggles- completely unaware of your obvious wanting. You nibble just a little at your own pastry. Appetite is suspiciously silent.

Jimin’s definitely not absorbing your conversation either, too busy watching Tae just like you were. Yoongi slinks off with a quiet thank you- intent on completing whatever project he's currently working on.

Jimin's eyes flick up and down Tae's face. Honed in, unable to look away. "The eye glitter-"

"Eyeshadow Minnie," Tae corrects, a little meanly, a little know-it-all in her tone. The same exact what she gets when she takes her knot and tells you exactly how to-

You need to get a grip. You forcefully turn away from the two of them and flip through your new recipe book. Searching for something sweeter, something else you can make other than fixate on this.

You clench your thighs together and watch Jimin cup Tae’s cheeks, her neck, hands skimming down her waist hungrily.

Jimin lets out a little pent-up breath, "It's like- super mesmerizing today- can you show me which one-"

Tae pulls him up from the table with a sweet giggle, leading him into the other room- Jimin looks a little dazed, stumbling on the carpet as he goes. Hoseok laughs and plucks another cookie from the tray before he helps you put them back inside, shaking his head.

These have powdered sugar on them too, you watch Hobi lick the white from his fingers. Hobi has nice hands, nobly in all the right places. You let out a breath and he licks them again, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Are you like okay or-"

"I'm fine." You whine, a little petulently. Setting down the container a little hard. Hobi laughs, and you wish it didn't make your knees a little weak. You need to get it together. You set the back of your hand against your flaming cheeks.

The fact of the matter is that You've gotten used to a certain amount of attention from the pack. Your body mostly, has gotten used to the near constant attention. Since everything happened, people have been- warming up to it slowly. Baking is also a good way for you to mediated away your sexual frustrations, bury them deep below layers of dough and batter and sparkly sugar.

Hobi's hand scratches under the hem of his shirt and you let out a heavy breath. He looks over at you and his nostrils flare.

"So, ugh- what's next- what are you baking next?"

"I wanna try to make this recipe I saw on Ticktok but I'm out of powdered sugar so-"

"You want me to drive you?" Your eyes flicker up. And you perk up at the idea of getting out of the house right now.

"Yes," you say, is your voice shaky? Are you the only one who notices the way that Hoseok's hand curls over his keys? or the way that you move restlessly? Pent up.

You leave, you tell others, but you find it hard to look away from Hoseok long enough to send a text to the group chat The same way that it was hard for Jimin to look away from Tae.

You make it to the store without any sort of comment from him, anything beyond his hand and your hand intertwined over the center console. Although you do see Hobi's mouth quirk as you stare and stare and stare.

There is something unfairly attractive about the way that Hoseok drives; one hand on the back of your headrest to back in the car. Something that makes you feel like you're melting when he follows you around the store. Taking one step for every two of yours, slow and leisurely, lingering close behind you protectively as you debate milk chocolate and semi-sweet. Reaching over you to get the sugar from the top shelf. His bicep brushing the top of your head.

Your jeans have rips in them, a courting gift from Tae who claimed they were cute (the pockets on the back are heart-shaped) His index and middle finger stay tucked into the back pocket of them, tugging you back close when you almost step in front of someone's cart, his thumb resting on the hollow of your back. Rubbing.

But when he gets into the car he pauses, "do you want to-"

"The beach?"

He swallows hard, "yeah- just for a bit?"

You drive, and instead of returning your hands to the center console Hobi’s hand creeps, settling on your knee. Hobi hooks his finger into the biggest rip in your jeans, one on your upper thigh, stroking the skin higher and higher. You go still, look down, and watch his hands rub smooth circles on your inner thigh.

Hoseok has very pretty hands.

A heat creeps up the back of your neck as Hobi keeps his eyes on the road and not on you. You try not to squirm, not to close your legs either. Although you know he'll be able to smell and feel your slick if he keeps it up for too long. You know your scent is swelling treacherously sweet, but you hope he won't comment- won't notice.

But when he pulls into the parking lot and the ocean is right there, turning dark green and a little violent at high tide. The air is stormy but sweet through the cracked windows. He turns to you, already smirking. The quirk of his lips teases and you realize he knows exactly what he's been doing to you this whole time.

You're already shoving his hand off of you, and he laughs at your flaming cheeks. "Oh my god shut up-"

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh, you little shit-" Hoseok grins.

"You're cute when you're flustered from being teased."

"Call me cute one more fucking-"

"Cute."

You put your head between your knees and actually scream. It's soft, not all that loud. Hoseok's laugh is louder as he throws his head back. And you regret ever making the mistake of falling in love with your best friend.

"Oh my god you are totally getting horny because of a car-"

"It's not the fucking car-" you whine, almost petulant.

"Oh, so it's me then?" The way Hoseok raises his eyebrow at you makes you want to scream. The smirk that has your omegan instincts rankled back on his stupidly pretty face.

"And if it is?"

Hoseok grins, reaching over to cup your cheek in his hand. Pinching the sides so that your lips push out. Holding you hard so that you can't squirm away.

"Then c'm here."

There are other things that you both crave beyond sugar and sweets. kisses that turn into giggles. Hoseok's lips move, good and gentle for a second. Exactly what you need, what you've been craving. His kisses offer a little relief.

And then he bites your lower lip.

It smells like gasoline and sea salt and blood when you pull it apart. rubbing at your stinging lip, a little angry. You're not bleeding, but it feels like you could be. A Hoseok-shaped space over your heart, wrenched clean, bleeding because where he sits is so far. If the distance and wanting could make you bleed- you would be.

(Hoseok bit you to keep you close because, for a second, it felt like you were about to pull back. His alpha didn't like that.)

You bristle an omega that needs settling. Hoseok almost wants to bare his teeth at how on edge it makes him. You smell so needy. Sticky sweet the way that Jungkook does sometimes. Hoseok's half surprised that the other omega didn't get to you before he did. Usually, Jungkook is the kinda of packmate who notices these things.

You flush hot. Half anger, half wanting. "Bitch-"

Hoseok reaches down between his legs for the lever under the seat to push it back. He pushes his seat away from the steering wheel and makes room for you. He parts his legs wide and gestures to his lap.

"I said come here."

The beach is empty and so is your part of the parking lot. It's getting late, past sunset and into twilight. The butter in the back seat of the car gathers condensation and starts to thaw but you don't even think about it a little bit.

You don't think about the people who might be nearby, the people who Could clearly see what you're doing in the car as you clamber over the center console. You leave your shoes behind in the passenger seat (you already have a habit of taking them off in the car). Bruising knees as you move over to the driver’s seat planting hungry kisses along Hobi's cheek, his jaw, every inch of his skin that you can reach, and then his lips finally. So shaky with wanting that you're clumsy. gripping the front of his shirt.

You can feel his grin against every kiss. You can feel it when he starts to grimace and you pull back. Hobi winces covering your banged knee with his big palm. You'll definitely have a bruise tomorrow.

You just take his hand and put it on your hip higher, and he raises an eyebrow at your brazenness. "Wow, you really want it huh?" He taunts, and you melt against his front past the point of pretending that you're not fucking needy, that you don't need him and need this right now if he's willing to give it.

"Hobi please-"

He just laughs at you, "though you were gonna spontaneously combust watching Yoongi eat that tart- it was fucking hilarious."

You whine high and needy. But he likes to tease, and you like he when he teases. Is this what having sex with your best friend is like? All jokes and jabs and fun. It feels nice when you can feel Hobi's laugh this way. Pressed against your stomach when you shimmy closer. It’s a bit cold, but he's warm and big against your front sitting in his lap like that. 

You lean back, and hit directly into the steering wheel and horn. You bury your blush in Hobi's chest as he laughs and laughs, and Hobi's hands fist on your hips, pulling you closer, then farther apart, then closer again.

"Hobi what if someone heard."

"They didn't- there's like no one here- fuck-" You feel his lips with every beat of your heart, kissing so hard it tastes like bruising.

He holds you around your waist and guides you into a subtle sloppy grind, he's only wearing his sweatpants, no boxers underneathand it's clear he's not as unaffected as he claims. The hardness tents in the gray frabric. Pushed up against you. His cock is already hard and firm and twitching.

The front seat of the Lambo is not as spacious as you'd like, but you don't care enough to move to the backseat. Already shaking from just a few kisses. You let out a small whine as he guides you to grind harder against his front, controlling your rhythm with two hands on your ass. You can tell you're getting sloppy, leaking slick. You feel hot all over, simmering as Hobi looks up at you and grins.

"You're like totally gonna cum from this-"

"Oh my god shut up-"

He leans in to bite the tip of your nose, "Make me."

A nearby gull caws loudly, dissonant with the darkness, it’s just a hair past twilight, and the streetlights cast his face in yellow and blue chiaroscuro. It's not private at all but it's perfect and as easy as breathing. Your hips, his hips, and not an inch of space between.

You curse Tae who finally convinced you to buy jeans again as Hobi helps you pull them off, jostling you, hitting your head on the top of the car with a muted "ow!"

Hobi kisses the top of your head holding it reverently while he giggles, and it feels like you're a pair of teenagers again. It feels like for all intents and purposes the last month hasn't happened- like you're right back to where you left off. None of this is heavy, none of it hurts.

The kisses don't stop. Migrating from your mouth down under your jaw, the hollow of your throat. You've soaked through the front of your panties, and Hobi pulls back to look down. Touching the little damp patch you've left against the front of his sweats humming thoughtfully. Breathing a little heavy. Hair all pulled at and messy from where you ran your fingers through it.

The quirk of his mouth is mischievous, "wanna rile the others up?"

You scoot back a bit, grinning, loving Hoseok is like a super special inside joke. "Just don't get my face."

Hobi snaps a picture of your thighs on either side of his, your pussy, barely clothed in semi-translucent fabric all dark blue. His cock wet and hard straining up against the grey sweats. He sends it and then throws it to the passenger seat to jerk you closer.

Hoseok’s phone starts vibrating almost immediately but texts go unanswered, every call goes unanswered in favor of shimmying his sweatpants down and letting his cock pop up, a pearly bit of precum already wetting the tip.

You still, and he guides his cock up at the same moment he settles you down, hand cupping your hip to guide you, pulling your soaking underwear to the side in his haste. His teeth grit and he sighs, you're so warm, so hot inside.

"There you go, is that better?"

"Fuck," you murmur, sinking down slowly, giving yourself time to adjust before your riding goes, still syrupy slow. “So much better.” You don’t want to thank him for something like this but you do anyway.

It’s unhurried as he pulls you closer and closer. You don't know why Hobi likes to fuck like this, so close and slow. Barely pulling back to fuck his cock in, he just keeps you close and lets you grind wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close as he can get you. The car starts to rock, squeaking, and the sounds of sex greet you as Hoseok fucks up into your wet hole. All sloppy and wet sounding, coupled with the smacks of your kisses.

“So fucking wet all the time, so fucking messy,” he growls out, and you whimper, pressing your face into his neck and gripping his arms helplessly.

“Can’t help it- can’t-”

He rises up, hands bunching in your short-cropped zip-up sweatshirt, to pick up up and down, up and off of his cock. Hoseok usually isn’t so physically strong, but he helps you ride him, making it faster and filthier. The fabric slides off your shoulders with the hastiness of your grinding, and the white tank top with the thin straps fall down to your elbow. He bites with his teeth when you clench around him, listening to the thud thud thud of your heart and counting every breath.

You get sweaty and sticky until the back seat of the car and all the windows fog up. Hobi kisses endlessly up and down your throat as his hands hold you loose and gentle and then tighter as he continues to force you up and down at a maddening pace.

Even with you on top, Hoseok is still an alpha, still needs to be in control. You can't move even a little bit without him controlling where you go. He pulls you back down into his lap and then pulls you tighter, forcing his cock deeper. You feel like you can feel Hobi all the way in your throat, letting out a weak sob.

"There we fucking go-"

"Fuck Hobi! I'm- please- I need-"

"You can- just-"

At the last moment, Hoseok's hand settles not on your side, but on your stomach, pressing down. you paw at his wrist helplessly.

"Don't! if you do that i'm gonna-"

But it's already too late, You cum, so worked up that it doesn’t take much, You'd like to think that you only squirt because he's making the fit extra tight with his hands, or because it's been a long time since you've cum at all. But you blush furiously as your cunt continues to spasm and drip.

Your Hand on the door keeps yourself up a little, almost forcing Hobi's cock out of you with how hard you clench down and drip slick onto his lap. Letting out a loud moan that someone could certainly hear if they were standing just outside the car.

Hoseok just fucking giggles.

You teeter, cumming so hard you're dizzy, Head lolling to the side until he guides you to rest against his shoulder. "I've got you, I'm sorry- that was mean," he drags his teeth down your scent gland and you tremble.

Hobi pulls back to look at the wet splatter. The front of his white shirt is translucent. He touches where it clings to his abs. Flexing and twitching. And then he looks up at you. As you shakily come down, keeping your pussy up, the head of his cock is still inside but not much else.

He pulls you back down, hard, and you yelp. hoseok has something in his eyes that's just as hungry as you were, something that you wouldn't be able to explain. You cumming doesn't make him quiet, it only makes him hungrier.

He guides you to bounce, up and down, at a faster pace, chasing his own orgasm now. "So, fucking needy, that's what you needed right?" He growls and you nod. Helpless. He forces you down on his slowly inflating knot a little, hard enough for you to feel it.

Your socked toes curl where you're kneeling, and he strokes up one of them. You jerk, ticklish, whimpering, body humming and oversensitive (is this how Jimin feels all the time?) His hand slides up your knee to grip you harder, and you squirm on his cock. 

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him. A little cock drunk, a little fucked out. "Like it when you call me needy, like it-" he kisses your slack mouth, bitten, pinker. "Cause it means you know I need you and you don't mind." you babble, and Hoseok just grins.

"Could never mind," His kisses interrupt his words. Like he can't be bothered to remove his lips from your skin long enough to speak. "need you too."

Hobi cums and his cock twitches. The smell of gasoline and burning tires on your skin. His knot inflates so quick and hard that you jerk, with little control of your body, curled to his chest- there’s little place for you to go. Shivering and twitching as his cum spurts, hot and wet filling you up with a sigh.

Which is how your face ends up hitting right up into his nose.

Hoseok has had more violent comedowns as he clutches his nose throbbing, wet and slimy blood. “What the actual fuck” you’re murmuring out sorry after sorry, still knotted together unable to move from his lap more than scrabbling at the passenger seat for some tissues, panicking until he starts to laugh.

And he's not angry no- he just laughs and wipes away the blood from his lips. “Not broken, don’t worry fuck-” it's payment for the teasing from earlier- karmatic because you don't like your alphas bloody. you hold the napkin to hoseok's nose and try not to move, his cock still occasionally twitching with a fresh spurt of cum. The nosebleed is over in a second.

It feels strange to laugh over something like blood, especially after the last few weeks you've had. But for once- it doesn't trigger either of you. He holds you close and gets blood on your sweatshirt probably but the car is full of the sound of laughter whereas 3 a minute ago it was full of the sloppy sounds of car sex and moaning.

“M’sorry”

His hands go up and down your waist, hungry, your slick is cooling and the sweat on the back of his neck is turning balmy. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean too.”

You try to pull back and squirm away from the way he’s holding you, but he holds you firmly against him. “Knots gotta go down soon, just stay like this a while.”

You settle, and he scents the top of your head, it’s useless, anyone will be able to tell what you’ve been doing after this, you can feel his cock twitch wet as he cums again a little more, and your pussy clamps down, milking his knot for all it’s worth. You sigh at the feeling.

Compared to your other packmates Hoseok is such a comfortable fit. Whereas when Namjoon knots you you can hardly move, Hoseok's knot is almost comforting. Soothing. The ache in you that wants to be filled truly quiet. (If you got a tape out and measured, you'd see that Hoseok's knot thickness is only a little wider than Namjoon's fully hard)

Alpha musk sweetens the air in satisfaction, but also challenge, the way that Hoseok smells when he and Jimin wrestle and he gains the upper hand- however briefly. Definitely not the way that the alphas usually smell after popping a knot.

You recognize the cross look on his face and aim to kiss it off of him. planting the type of kiss that almost always makes Hobi smile at the corner of his lips.

You pause for a second, for dramatic effect, but it still doesn't make him stop his pouting. “Okay- now you’ve got to tell me what's wrong you’re still literally inside me and you’re not smiling-” you laugh against his throat, pull back worried, “not that you have to be happy fuck- I didn’t mean-”

Your words jog him out of his thoughts and shimmies forward, Hoseok pecks your nose, your lips, still warm from your sighs and moans that he got out of you. His shifting causes his cock and knot to rub up and more fully inside you just slightly, forcing a tiny bit of cum to slip out, cooling and sticky.

But oh well- the inside of the lambo has seen worse messes in recent weeks. You sigh at the movement and rest your face against the hollow of Hobi’s throat, pouting petulantly as he continues the small juts of his hips, content to rip another orgasm out of you (although the front of his white shirt is already soaked translucent with it). He's competitive like that.

You grab his arms to try and slow him, already a little overstimulated and unable to feel your thighs, but Hoseok just grabs your waist and lifts you up, however briefly- to seat you more firmly on his knot, "Hobi fuck-"

There's an itch under his skin that just won't quiet down. Won't settle. You can see that now, his instincts are on edge, gnashing their teeth.

You tilt your throat, offering it up, bearing it to him.

Hoseok watches the action, eyes flinty. Sounding too serious. "How many times does Yoongi usually make you cum?"

Your eyes flutter, and he settles you back against his chest, his heart thuds quick against your ear, "like two or three times usually." Hoseok's knot deflated enough to pull out and he does it slowly, mindful of how sore you must be.

Hoseok goes slowly, but he’s still cum enough that you can’t clench closed enough to keep his cum in, you try and stop it but Hoseok catches your wrist so that you drip out, down, hitting the leather seat. He can’t stop watching you clench, hole pink and fucked, clit twitching because of him. Rubbing smooth circles on your thighs transfixed for a second but then reaching for his phone because.

“Fuck- Namjoon’s gonna go crazy.”

You cover your flaming face with your hands but you let Hoseok send another picture. This time of your wet and messy entrance, pink clit, a bit of his cum in the picture, dripped milky around the leather seat it's- fuck It's utterly pornographic. Might just as well send Namjoon into a rut with how fucking provocative it is.

Hoseok takes another, pressing the head of his cock to your hole, not inside, but just close enough that it's like they're kissing. Hot and wet and dripping with your slick and his cum. pooling a little on the head of his cock.

Hoseok sends it, and immediately gets another call from Namjoon. Hoseok sends it to voicemail only to grin at the amount that the pack alpha has already left.

“Guess how many voicemails he left?” You’re still shaking, still trembling from how hard you came, but Hoseok is so unaffected, all languid and satisfied.

“I don’t know, four?”

Hoseok laughs, husky, and pecks your shoulder. “Fucking seven” he clicks one and you laugh out loud for the scrabbling in the background alone.

“Jimin you are not going to drive to them- calm the fuck down.” Jin's says, sounding angry, in the background but Namjoon’s is deep. More of a growl. “Pups, come home right now, preferably before you end up knotted to each other in public,”

he snickers, "Too late."

You shimmy forward. Unwilling to separate from Hobi even though you're not knotted together anymore. You wouldn't mind just staying like this, cuddled up against his chest. But Hoseok knows what you want, what you need. He pulled out a little too soon (not for the knot, with that he was very very gentle) but because of your instincts. You still need him close.

He sinks inside of you with a sigh and you sniffle, “Keep it nice and warm yeah?” He teases, and you swat at his arm but let him. The drag is hot and filthy and slow.

You think that’s all he’ll do until He reaches down between the two of you to put his thumb and pointer finger around your clit. You jerk, scrambling to grip onto his wrist as he tugs.

“I thought you said Yoongi made you cum 2 or 3 times."

"Yes but- I'm sensitive."

"I like that you're sensitive, for the record, even though I'm probably going to tease you about this later." His voice is so husky, so deep and alpha that you melt and let him do what he wants.

You gasp and he plays with your clit, actually plays with it, rubbing it this way and that. Parting your lips to watch it tremble as you try and clench. His cock twitches where it fills you, starting to rock up and into you just a bit.

“That’s all you wanted right, just someone to touch you right here" He teases, eyes dark, breathing through his teeth as you clench. You tremble from overstimulation but nod dumbly.

Hoseok rubs the tight v of his fingers up and down, popping your clit up and down, such small movements that drive you crazy. You can’t clench any harder around his knot ( starting to fill out again, starting to pulse thick and hot) but Hoseok groans as you try to hold onto him, fingers going faster, sloppier.

You lean back, putting your hands on his knees, letting him see all of you, the damp hem of your shirt where you made it messy. Your pink cunt all for his viewing pleasure as you pop yourself up and down his length.

"Can't-" You're dumb, actually unable to speak as Hoseok starts fucking you again in earnest. The drag so much wetter with his cum already filling you up, squishing out around his cock again.

“Can’t come again?” He raises an eyebrow. “What? You’ll come 3 times for Yoongi but you won’t for me?”

“That’s not- it’s not-“ You can’t think with the way he keeps rubbing, tiny little movements as he continues to tug and rub, the small movements maddening. “Alpha!” you cry as he tugs again, cumming so hard and Hoseok’s fingers- tug again, milking a bit of squirt from you. Just a bit.

You clench so hard it forces his knot out, cum and slick dripping everywhere. Darkening his sweatpants with a dark laugh.

He doesn't leave you unfilled for long, guiding his cock back and forcing it to pop back in. The car rocks and you sob. And yeah- this is exactly what you needed. Your brain shuts off for a bit. You needed someone to fuck and knot the thought out of you gently, but not so gently as to let your mind wander.

You can tell hobi's close by the tone of his voice, how close to a growl it is. “Gonna make you milk my knot, gonna make you cum until Yoongi will have to compete with me. Until I’m the one who-“ Hoseok cuts himself off as his knot pops for the second time.  

His knot feels hotter the second time around, thicker too- maybe it’s just because you feel so tight and full of his cum.

It’s calm for a second, calm. The sound of the crashing waves, his breath as he breathes in deep. You don't know how long you stay like that, so close to each other that you can hardly breathe. His knot still hasn’t gone down. His breath and your breath, you kiss his temple his cheek. And when you pull back to look at him, his face has that same look to it. You don’t even have to ask him, he already knows that you're going to ask what he meant by the last bit.

“It’s nothing.” but you wait because you know it’s not and that he's just working up to it.

You kiss at his temple. (How lovely is it- that your favorite place to be kissed should be called the same name as a house of worship?) Hoseok kisses you back just as reverently.

Earlier when he was thinking about something, he got that competitive look on his face, and he wears that same look now. “It’s just, earlier I was thinking about it.”

“When you were frowning the first time?”

“No. At the house.” Hoseok is silent for another second, rubbing a soothing hand down your spine. And you realize you’re not afraid of anything he might say, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“You said, with Tae- that you wanted to marry her.”

Hoseok closes his eyes, just briefly. His eyelashes catch the light from the streetlamps. “I've never thought about getting married, not at all, and I'm not asking that's not- I'm not-" Hoseok sighs, frustrated. He's fine with dirty talk and teasing but this- this is so much harder to say.

"I was just looking at you and wondering...wondering why you chose her out of the whole pack and not someone else"

Why not me?

You and Hobi have agreed that saying the scary things is the way you get through it. Love will do you no good if you can’t do it scared.

You pull back and the look on your face makes Hobi blush, it’s so open and honest, like a hint of humor chased with all the love in the world. Hoseok pulls you tighter, more firmly against him in the front seat of the Lamborghini.

You’ve only been officially official for the last few weeks. But already Hobi can’t think of his life without you, can’t think of any world where you don’t mean just as much to him as the others do. If mating marks could go 8 ways it would be an easy choice, but they don’t work that way.

He’s never even called you his girlfriend for Christ’s sake. And he’s already talking about mating marks and marriage. and feeling hurt when you offer those shows of devotion to other people and not him. Jealousy in packs shouldn't exist, but it sort of does sometimes.   You nudge his nose with yours. A small little nuzzle. “You and I are more matching tattoo people, aren’t we? I thought you’d want more than just a ring.”

A laugh jumps out of Hoseok’s chest like lightning, surprising him with how little he expects it, “Really? Fuck- you’d get matching tattoos with me?”

You lift his palm up to your throat, the blank side and then the one marred by Yoongi’s mating bite. “I’ve already got one mark on me that I can’t erase, gotta give you the same treatment.”

He’s a little speechless, eyes glittering with stars (they’re just from the streetlights but still) you keep it going. “If you could bite me? Where would you put it?”

Hoseok sits up straight, dragging his kiss down the side of your throat, “here maybe?” the tops of your breasts, “or here maybe,” next to your heart, Hoseok brings his hand to his face, kissing the center of it. “Probably here.”

You cover his hand with yours and then grip his shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down his pectoral, your foreheads resting against each other.

“If you ever need, if you ever want- like today- you can just ask me.”

“You sure? It wouldn’t be like- too much?” you don’t say her name, you don’t say that it would be like before. But Hoseok closes his eyes, he knows you won’t ever do anything like that. He doesn’t honestly think you’d be capable of that…the guilt and the forcing.

Hoseok isn’t worried about it in the slightest. He knows if he ever felt even a bit like that, he could tell you and you’d stop without a second thought. Whatever you need.  (If that doesn’t count as marriage, I’m not sure what god is looking for.)

“I’m sure. I like this, it’s nice.” It’s nice when it’s just the two of us, you’re my best friend.

You’re coming down, still resting against his chest. Hoseok’s knot will have deflated enough for him to pull out without pain in a few moments, a few breaths as you exchange sleepy soft kisses. Nowhere to go and nowhere to be. The panic has worn out of you. The frantic desire simmering low and sated in your veins. The fire turned down low. The fear was non-existent.

Until a loud screech punctuates the quiet.

It’s pretty immediate how everything falls apart. One moment you and Hobi are curled up against each other. And the next second you look over his shoulder and see the red and blue flashing lights. You have seconds, maybe a breath before the sirens blare and those lights flash brighter. A foreign voice coming over the loudspeaker shattering the quiet. “Stay where you are!”

“Shit! Hobi!” Hoseok jerks, you are still knotted together but he pulls you off of him with little care for your comfort. You don’t blame him too panicked as you slide to the passenger seat and he tucks his cock back into his sweats. Reaching for your jeans a second too late.

“Crap- pull up your pants- oh fucking hell-“

Both of you turn syrupy slow when the police officer taps on his window. Shining his light inside of the foggy car.

~-~

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Notes:

yoongi gets fewer parts in this chapter because he's going to get a dedicated moment in the next chapter!!!

to be honest- i'm not really totally sure that jimin in bily has autisim or not- if he does have autism slightly or not, he does have the same sort of sensory issues that i do, i guess i can't answer the question for jimin because i can't answer it for myself yet.

jimin like me- realizes that the sensory stuff really affects him- i think he's never been allowed to realize how things make him feel. he's never been that sure of his emotions and his feelings.

if leg hair has one hater it's me, if leg hair has no haters then i am dead.

i wrote this chapter with the understanding that if jimin does have some form of psychopathy- then jin certainly does have it too- like out of all of them i think that the dynamic that fits them best is "jimin is crazy and knows it, jin is crazy and doesn't know it."

Song inspiration is just Rm's- Around the world in a day. i know we only have one song but!!! what a break of charecter!!

was i inspired by namjoons "she a pro-rida, Oo Oo Oo Oo rida~" for this chapter? yes i was. and what about it??

hoseok and the m/c are such a mess i swear to god i love them so much like- they're just so cute in their little car sex scene.

💜💜💜

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.74)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, a bit of spanking, implied d/s, under negotiated scene but everyone is okay with it, Mommy kink, mommy tae, baby dom tae, Brief daddy kink too, implied yandere Jin, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, discussions of free use, free use! jungkook, clothing control, dollification if you squint, forced caretaking if you squint, nudity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, implied omegaspace, preheats,

W/c: 21.1k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You are belly down in the nest when you first come too.

Your chest is pressed to the cuddle of blankets dragged beneath your tummy. Soft and cozy, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Your sweet sweet omega packmates have made you the best nest in existence. Comfy and plush, you can sense the high walls and the care that they put into the placement of every pillow.

The scents from both of them (milk and honey) flutter past your consciousness, tugging you down and down, covering you like a physical shadow. So sweet you want to roll around in it.

If only you had the energy for it, your body feels like a lead weight.

You're not alone here but you might as well be for how scent-drunk you are. Can omegas get scent drunk on other omegas? Distantly you can hear voices talking. Downstairs? Or in the dressing room? your brain moves sluggishly, not a single coherent thought filling your head other than how truly comfortable you are.

It’s perfect, Jinnie and Koo are the best at nest-making.

Your inner omega is not entirely satisfied until you can smell all of your pack, you nuzzle forward to search for them. The soft fabric by your pillow smells like Yoongi- like chocolate. Sweet and heady and almost melty. The cinnamon and caramel and coffee are harder to pick out, the vanilla less so because Jimin had suctioned himself to your back in the night, nosing at your shoulders until he settled. The whole nest smells like your pack. Smell safe, smells like home.

Someone has opened up the curtains early (or is it late into the morning?) rather meanly. Soft light turns yellow behind your eyelids. You shield your face from the light in a blanket that smells like Tae. Burrowing underneath it and hiding.

Something warmer and less ephemeral than sunlight dances up and down your spine. Arresting your escape into dreamland and waking you gently. Rubbing harder with every moment.

“Honey.”

You huff, voicing your protests at being woken. Screwing your eyes shut.

“Pup” Yoongi stresses. You chirp, a little bratty. He huffs a fond sigh before really putting his hands to use gripping you under your ribs to lift you up gently.

Or at least trying too. You flop back against the blankets limp, refusing to open your eyes. Fingers tangled in the nest like a child would clutch at a well-loved stuffed animal (there are well-loved stuffed animals here, mostly ringing the nest like little soldiers, your addition to the nest). Your body feels so good- listless and tired and sleepy. You don’t answer your mate with more than a grumble, trying to turn back over. Tummy, you need to be on your tummy.

Yoongi laughs, actually laughs, and despite your best efforts you start to wake you do starts to feel more awake. His sleepy giggle and the flutter of your heart is better than an alarm clock.

Why stay asleep when you have so much to wake up to? Your mind doesn’t get the memo, remaining fuzzy and sluggish.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late and…” Something smells very very sweet, almost syrupy on the air. You don’t mind the smell, but Yoongi smells a little sour. A little stress bitter- more 87% dark chocolate and not hot chocolate goodness. What could he possibly have to be stressed about when the nest feels like this? All he has to do is nest and he'll be right as rain, you wish you could tell him that, but your mouth remains sleep-slack and pouty.

His hand holds your hip, keeping your legs closed. Keeping your legs from parting. You cling to the pillow that smells like Tae. Intent on putting it between your legs and hugging it and not him if your mate is going to be mean and wake you.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. Yoongi stops you.

“You’re gonna get it all over the bed and that if you’re not careful, and if you do Jin definitely isn’t gonna let you go with Namjoonie without giving you a scolding. And you know how he likes his scolding’s-”

Your body warms and sweetens, You bring your legs together, intent on pushing up in the nest and telling him off. But it’s then that you feel it. The cold, the wetness of slick between your legs.

Oh

You sit up so quick the room spins. Hair fluffing, all cowlicky and messy all over your head. You look first at Yoongi then anxiously between your thighs where the grey fabric of your pajamas has already darkened.

You’re not proud of the way that you slam the bathroom door in Yoongi’s face. His voice is muffled and worried. “It’s alright- it happens with Jin and Jungkook sometimes too, leaking slick is perfectly normal-”

You whine, high-pitched, embarrassed. cutting him off. “Give me a second! I’m fine just-” You keep your hands pressed to the door, holding it closed. Yoongi waits for a breath and the doorknob stops turning. You can hear his sigh from the other side of the door.

Someone opened up the window in the bathroom and you're thankful now- the scent of your slick is not quite so cloyingly sweet. Cold spring air tickles your toes, at odds with the heated flooring.

“Alright, want me to keep the others away?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Your head hits the door. Resting your forehead against the wood.

A bit of slick trails down your thigh, threatening to land on the floor. You make an alarmed noise.

“Can you get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh yeah, shit- Sorry-”

There are bathing suits hanging on the side of the deep tub- from you and Tae and Hobi last night. from when you'd used the hot tub out on the balcony and soaking away your soreness last night. One of them slides to the floor (Tae’s, bright pink, crusted with pearls like a mermaid) as you hobble to the toilet. Feeling embarrassed and thankful that no one’s there to see you.

You’d gotten kissy and overheated in the tub. Water bubbling around you and concealing your wandering hands. Tae’s bathing suit pulled to the side and yours too eventually. Leaving Hobi pink-cheeked and watching from the other side- teasing himself with the distance.

Until they’d both sandwiched you. Bottoms pulled to the side under the water. Both of your alpha's working in tandem. Knots pressing between the chub of your thighs and sometimes up into the slick plush of your pussy lips. Neither of them slipped inside because you’d said you didn’t want it- that you just wanted to be teased.

And tease they had; with Tae’s cock sliding up between your body and the fabric of your bikini, sat upon her lap. Hobi’s mouth, trailing down the front plunge of your bikini and taking it off eventually. Both of them breathing heaving and nibbling.

You’d felt like a chew toy in the best way. Soft- turned on, not nervous, not anxious. Because neither of them seemed to have any intent on fucking you or knotting you or had been at all upset when you said you didn’t want to fuck. That you just wanted to be touched and nothing else.

You really liked it, being touched without it going anywhere. It’s not exactly surprising that you’d had what surely must have been a wet dream after.  

Yoongi had complained a bit about having to drain the water out of the tub when you’d come in dizzy and body humming, carefully corraled between your two pink-cheeked alphas, but you know he hadn't actually been upset. Just teasing.

You and Yoongi haven't been intimate in that way since your fight and blow-up and then eventual reconciliation but at least the kisses have been lingering and slow and not without heat. The regular intimacy is back, the cuddling too- and you know it's only a matter of time until that part of your relationship unfurls again.

Neither of you are in any sort of rush. You've taken your last three showers with him, had shampooed his hair and shaved his scratchy chin last shower, with him sitting on the shower bench and you standing between his legs. Yesterday after Tae and Hobi had dragged you into the hot tub.

But he hadn't taken you, even though his eyes had been on you and his hands had touched a little softer, a little longer. and he knew exactly what you'd just been doing with tae and hobi by your scent alone. His cock hadn't been completely soft against his thigh but he hadn't asked or initiated anything. Neither had you.

Granted, You hadn’t wanted to be sore for your and Namjoon’s travel day today. Yoongi is a very very considerate mate and packmate.

Now you sit on the edge of the toilet and pull down your pants, cringing when you see the mess of slick that soaks your pj's and darkens the fabric from grey to black. You wonder if it's just the stress of travel and leaving your pack or if there are other things at play here.

Given how you’d forgotten about your and Namjoon’s first date until several weeks after having made the plans for it- it's a little predictable that you’d also forgotten your plans to go on a little vacation with the pack alpha. Granted you'd made your plans shortly before you’d tried to leave them, and that had also kinda distracted both of you, but tomato tamato.

It’s been three months since all of that went down. Springtime is well on its way. The trees are going to leaf out any moment now and join the blooming cherry blossom and crabapple trees and magnolias that dot your section of town. You can barely walk with Hobi to work anymore without him pointing out the magnolia trees and promising that he'll plant one in your front yard before the summer is over.

Soon but not quite yet.

It’s the blooming trees that had actually inspired your trip with Namjoon; Namjoon got the idea when you’d been driving with him to another doctor’s appointment. You'd been quiet, nervous, nose pressed to the window to watch for trees, and you'd asked him to slow down so that you could look longer at the pink tangles of trees along the waterfront.

Namjoon loves to indulge.

You’d perused Airbnb’s together, knitted close one evening on the couch, a glass of wine and Jungkook’s pinky tucked into one limb and Namjoon pressed close on the other. Tae’s laptop balanced on his thighs and Jin on his other side. Because even if your packmates wouldn't be coming- they still want a hand in the planning. The nosey bunch that they are.

You’d planned it out with Jin watching with hawk eyes and deeming certain packages too pedestrian for you, not fancy enough or not romantic enough. You’d finally landed on a hot spring, up north- apparently known for its secluded views and cherry blossoms at this time of year.

Appropriately bougie and appropriately brief at 3 days and 2 nights but special enough for what Namjoon had dubbed your first anniversary present.

You’d talked about it, tangled up with Namjoon on the front porch under about a dozen blankets just to watch the birds getting fat and happy on spring suet and seeds. Hobi hung up the birdfeeders there just for you and Namjoon to enjoy on your mornings.

You and Namjoon watch the birds often on the front porch, now that it's warm enough to sit out here for extended stretches. With him working so infrequently, you've been able to spend a lot more time with him.

Your love with him has always been slower, gentler than the others. Namjoon loves being delicate with you and loves treating you like the fine china that you are. You feel the delicacy in the way he touches you all the time and in the way that he encourages your slow mornings.

Your mouth rounded out and kissed pink from his mouth a second ago, kissing you when the birds don’t linger near the feeder so that your squeaks don’t spook them. Your shirt pulled up as you slid down the cushion, bare skin that Namjoon’s fingers had teased at. A touch just to touch. Tickling at your ribs until you giggle at him to stop.

Petting up and down your sides, he can’t feel your ribs anymore. Hasn’t been able to in months. He indulges in the feeling of your soft skin while you watch the birds flutter. “I don’t know if we can call May our anniversary, you didn’t kiss me really until June.”

“Doesn’t matter, We met in May.”

You'd snorted, "thats not an anniversary Joonie. What was it love at first sight?"

"No," Namjoon says, honest, but that's why you love him, leaning in nose had pressed against your mating mark, sniffing deeply. Letting out a satisfied grumble. "Maybe home at first sight though. I think I could already feel it- that you and Yoongi were mated. I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.”

Anniversaries and special days aside. The rest of the pack had been predicably jealous when you'd shown them the pictures of the hotel. Not too jealous- because the pack has another vacation in the works at the end of the summer. An idea that’s only just starting to crest their minds. Why shouldn’t they travel now? They don’t have pups- and this might be one of the last summers they have.  

Tae had leaned in over Namjoon’s computer, “Wait this is so pretty- and for photos! I want to go look at all the pink” She’d whined. Jimin had just shaken his head and leaned close to press a kiss to her temple to distract her. Almost hitting one of Tae’s space buns in the process.

“We can always go to the botanical gardens for pictures honey.”

“Yeah! That way you can show me when we get back! and we'll have pictures to show each other” You’d chirped, trying to be comforting.

Sometimes in the pack, it’s hard to separate your relationships out into their single pairs, beyond soon-to-be mated pairs and soulmates aside. It’s hard not to want to do everything together.

But getting away with the pack alpha for a few days is probably going to be good for all of you. A day or two apart and some time to decompress. A brief stretch so that you only miss each other more.

To have the pack alpha’s undivided attention is something that you’re both excited and nervous about.

He’s taking you to a resort and hot springs up north. Surrounded by a cherry blossom grove that’s earned its spot at the top of several travel blogs as the number one event to do in the spring. It's not a terribly long trip and mid-week because the rest of the rooms had been booked up for the weekends already. But Namjoon had still insisted that you get a room with an attached private spring. T

here’s a cherry blossom trail on the grounds and a nice dinner planned for tomorrow night. But nothing else planned for the third day beyond your drive home. Namjoon had heard of this cute little roadside bakery that he wanted to stop at on your way for breakfast.

You’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement since last night- your singular suitcase packed yesterday morning by Tae and Jungkook- who had demanded you pack a quite frankly concerning amount of lingerie.

But even you had to admit that this is an undeniably sexy vacation. You hadn’t planned anything beyond your walk and dinner, mostly because you’d both expected to do something else for the majority of your trip.

Mostly having raunchy passionate hotel room sex… not that Namjoon even said explicitly that that's what he wants to do with you on this vacation. But he hadn't exactly not hinted at that either with the private onsen suite.

But looking down at your soiled panties, slick sticky, and darkening the fabric, you feel the least sexy that you have in weeks.

“What the fuck” you mutter. Quiet. Yoongi knocks at the door again. Softer.

“Can I come in?”

“One sec.”

The sound of crumpling toilet paper and Jin cursing downstairs becomes louder. The windows are open up here and down there and you can hear him and the cracking of metal pans against each other. Hobi’s laugh. The sound of the dishwasher going downstairs. Noodle meows at the front door. You can hear all of it. Yoongi’s footsteps back and forth by the door. Quiet words.

Is your hearing overly sensitive? Or are they all just loud? 

“Give us a sec Jk, sorry but can you go downstairs for a moment?”

Jungkook’s worried voice, the sound of kisses pressed to his lips, “Sure hyung, going for a run anyway,” Then quieter, so soft that you can’t hear- "Is she alright?”

"Yeah, it’s not nerves if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook breathes in deeply, and lets out a knowing sound as he scents slick on the air. "Want me to keep Jin-hyung away?"

"Please."

This is decidedly not normal for you. Normal for Jungkook sure- he has the most regular dirty dreams out of the whole pack. A few times a week you wake up to the smell of slick, sweet and tempting on the air and more than one alpha tempted to do something about it. Rewarded with Jungkook’s sweet submission when they give in to their temptations.

You've gotten used to his sleepy and quiet ah ah ah's waking you up.

You like morning kisses when Jungkook's getting fucked, it's almost like he forgets how to talk and kiss when he's being dicked down. when you wake up in the morning to gentle repetitive rocking and the sound of soft kisses. Hobi or Tae or Namjoon or Jimin tucked up behind him.

Jungkook likes it best when you pretend like you don't know what they're doing. When you sidle up to his front for a cuddle. You like to hear their croons of "don't be rude to your nestmate Jungkook, give her a good morning kiss." You like tasting Jungkook's shakey sighs against your mouth. Tucking yourself close to him and falling back asleep to the gentle hum of, "You better not cum, you might get the pup all messy, dirty little omega."

You like to be around when they're intimate, it makes you feel like you're still apart of it without any of the fear of being too much or not wanting sex enough. You've been easing up on the fine lines between all of you, on the more free-flowing and free-use parts of your relationship. Starting to explore it safely the way they haven't really had the opportunity too since before you became a part of their pack.

You hadn't really understood free use until jungkook explained it to you.

One afternoon, All of the pups having 'pup time' as Namjoon and Jin had started to call it- but is really just playing Mario cart in the backroom on lazy rainy afternoons. You'd snorted at his explanation. rearranging the plushies in your nesting nook. a note of skeptisizim in your voice.

"I'm not going to just like- push you down and sit on your face? That seems kinda mean Koo."

"For the record the idea of that is really hot." Jimin had tipped his head back, smashing buttons. Tae had hummed agreeing with jimin and combed her long fingers through Jimin's hair while she waits for her turn. Hobi had snorted smashing buttons and clicking.

"It's not mean though- not like mean mean."

Tae's fingers brushing between his legs had distracted him, touching him to tease and feel how hard he is. His little cock a chubby little secret, but jk knows to stay still under Tae's inspection. Jk's little cursor had slipped right off the rainbow road and fallen into space and Tae's hands had slipped off of him too. making him squirm.

"I just like how it feels sometimes, like I'm yours to have and take." Tae continued like nothing was amiss, had pet through his hair as if she hadn't just felt him up. Jungkook's sweet sweet scent is the only tell.

Tae had winked at you over Jungkook's shoulder. "It's kinda like how Namjoon was during a rut right?"

Jungkook's voice was rough, "Right. It's like- I don't know how to explain it- Soothing? That I know you're getting everything you want from me." Jungkook had shaken himself. "You don't have to join in if you don't want too- Hobi doesn't"

You'd turned to Hobi for confirmation, sat closest to you. his back leaned up against the rattan of your nesting nook. Completely focused on the screen and not on your conversation. "I'm like totally lapping you jk."

"No fair, I can't concentrate when I'm talking about sex." The round ends, Hobi wins and Jungkook and Tae swap controllers.

Tae flops down on Jimin's lap, his arms wrapping around her waist and head hooking over her shoulder fluidly. "If I beat you you owe me a kiss."

"Don't make me want to lose. It's not going to work."

"Oh it totally works you just don't want to admit it."

"I'm ready to Loose." Hobi snorts. and is rewarded by a kiss to his cheek.

without a controller, jk looks at you more fully. "We probably won't really start to do it for a little while, at least not not until-" Jungkook falls silent, and the next moment. Yoongi sidles up to the double doors, peering inside smiling at the sight of all of you heaped close. going quiet. "You know you guys could just sit on the couch instead of the floor."

"Not as comfy"

"Do you have room for one more?"

"Hyung you are so on."

Maybe Yoongi's distance with you would be easier to handle if you didn't also know he's been just as distant with the rest of the pack. Sexual needs ebb and flow, desire ebbs and flows too. Not everyone is like Jungkook- constantly in need, constantly simmering heat. Which is one of the reasons why free use for him is less of a want and more of a need. As much as you like to joke that Jungkook is a bit of a nymphomanic, he really does need that kind of gratification to feel loved.

This- the leaking slick, so rarely happens to you and Jin.

This feels disorienting. The bathroom spins. You’d leaked so much slick in your sleep that you’d soaked through your underwear and your pajama pants. they sit in a heap on the floor. Your panties are ruined.

You don’t think it’s just excitement for your trip. You don’t even remember having a dirty dream. You don't feel turned on, dizzy and a little dehydrated.

You can’t put back on your clothes but you tell Yoongi he can come in anyway. Sitting on the top of the toilet, your shirt long enough to cover your bareness but even you have to admit that he’s seen you in far worse states.

He lets out a small alarmed noise but keeps the door cracked behind him. He stoops to the floor to pick up your ruined pajama bottoms, putting them in the laundry. He’s got another pair in his hands and a pair of clean underwear too. He’s alarmed judging by the wide set of his eyes, looking up to your thighs and then your face.

“It’s just the excitement about leaving.” You don't even believe it as it comes out of your mouth.

He stoops and gets on his knees. He puts your feet through the leg holes, fingers on your calves. Humming.

Things have been better between the two of you recently, this isn't strange. Things are going back to the way they where slowly. There’s been little kisses here and there, laughter too; like when you both went out to the beach to stargaze a few weeks ago. just the two of you, a rare lone outing.

The lights were stark and cold up above and Yoongi's smile anything but. His back against the sand and the deep warm sound of his laughter chasing the winter winds away. A Lingering brightness dancing on the edge of your fingers, starlight jumping from your skin to his, close and warm in the night.

"What did you wish for?"

"Nothing"

Then after a moment, you'd admitted it. "For you to be happy"

"I'm already happy sweetheart"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Guess I wasted my wish then."

"I think you can make another wish, that one doesn’t count."

"Okay." A beat, a breath, a kiss to your cheek.

"Did you do it yet?"

"Yoongi-"

He still takes care of you- although the intention behind each action brews a little more balanced than before. He takes care of you and you take care of him too. You hold his latter when he gets up on it to paint, and hand him tools when Hobi’s car needs a tune-up. You follow him around the house the same way he used to follow you around.

You've begun minding his health the same way the others mind yours- you'd made him take vitamin C when he started coughing in mid-March. And nursed him through the unglamorous episode and illness that followed.

You'd held his hand while Namjoon had listened to his lungs and pouted at him each time he tried to get up when he should have been resting. Made him soup and babied him for the week he'd spent coughing and then cuddled him through his fever. Kept him plied with ice water and cough drops and miraculously hadn't caught the same mystery illness.

You’ve been trying to find a middle ground, a new kind of honesty that you hadn’t had before. He takes care of you now just as much as you take care of him.

Now, Yoongi’s hand hovers on your ankle. On his knees in front of where you sit and you’re nearly at eye level with him. You watch his nostrils flare, and his lips descend into a frown as he looks between your thighs. If it were anyone else you'd feel self-conscious.

“What are you thinking?”

Yoongi hesitates before he speaks his suspicion into life. He knows the power his words have and the joy that they have the possibility of ripping away. It's not just your high hopes he's worried about but Namjoon's too.

“Do you think you could be going into heat?”

Your stomach flips, but you instantly shake your head.

When you think internally, You feel no warmth, no wanting in your gut or instincts. You rub your hands over your face. Yoongi hesitates before getting up and washing his hands. Looking at you in the mirror.

“No, I don’t feel-” Your hand hovers over your stomach, and downstairs some pans clatter, and Jin curses loudly again. The pack awaits. You can hear Namjoon’s voice downstairs too. “It could be nothing. It was probably just a dream.”

You cover your face with your hand, quieting the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Turning around to rest against the sink and look at you, drying his hands slowly. You give him space to say something but when he stays silent you have to ask.

“Do you want me to cancel the trip? I can tell Namjoon, he'd understand.” 

He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he comes close again, making an alarmed noise when he sees the goosebumps on your thighs and dropping back to his knees, putting your feet through the holes of the clean pj’s and pulling them up slowly. Tender. His fingers hover on your calves treading higher and higher to the sensitive skin on the inside of your knees.

You have a bruise there, from roughhousing with Jk yesterday morning. A battle over prime nesting material you had not won (you'd been happy to lose when the punishment was being manhandled and several hickeys on various parts of your body. Jungkook likes to nibble.)

Yoongi's thumb covers the bruise in its entirety. “How far is the drive again?”

“Three hours.” Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip and it takes him a second to debate it internally

“You could come home, if something went wrong, Namjoon would drive you home.” Someone is coming up the stairs, you can hear the creek of the old wood, and you won't have your privacy for much longer.

You lean forward, hitting your forehead with his. “Yeah. You’re right.” Yoongi pecks your nose and stands up, stashing the last of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket where the smell of slick won’t be noticed.

Tae knocks the same second that you pull up your pants. Just in time, you’ll have to undress anyway to shower- but you don’t need her wondering why you and Yoongi are cleaning up your slick and hiding it from the others.

Tae grins from the cracked door once she sees it's just you and Yoongi, nudging it open with her toe completely unaware of the trouble brewing. If she notices the scent of your slick on the air she doesn't say anything. Her hips sway as she leans up against the door. Hands behind her back, holding something grinning at you.

“Can I pick out your outfit?”

“Something tells me you already have; I need to shower first.”

Tae has been taking a lot more free reign when it comes to you and your outfits. It's the one thing you had been interested in when Jungkook had first started to ask about free use. The one thing you'd been curious about.

You'd raised your eyebrow at it the first time you'd noticed Jin and tae set out Jungkook's workout set before work. Shivered and watched as they palmed and tugged and dressed him before letting him go with a kiss and a small tap to his bottom. Jungkook had that wide hazy look in his eyes, a slack grin on his mouth, subspace or omegaspace or some tangle of the two.

You'd been stuttering and unsure, "can we, can you- would you choose my clothes for me too?"

Both of them, Jin and Tae, had stood up straighter, both of them near purring- like they'd been waiting for you to ask. (You haven't forgotten and neither have they- how you call Jinnie daddy and Tae mommy. Although you've begun to use the latter name more casually with Tae).

You are still warming up to it, but Tae's been setting out your clothing most mornings and Jin's been selecting your pj’s each night. Your and Jin's routine usually comes with a hole check and settling if you ask for it nicely (a cock and knot if you ask even more nice, if jin checks your hole and finds you warm and wet and wanting)

While the clothing is not entirely a dominance thing, that needy gleam in their eyes is unmistakable. With Jin, you can almost tell yourself that it's just his grooming instincts, but with tae- the clothing is a little different.

You don’t mind that she likes it, deciding what you wear and how you wear it. You don’t mind that she finds some satisfaction from it- some instinct fulfilled, some pleasure gained. You don’t mind maybe because it’s her and she has good taste, because she so often chooses what you want to wear anyway.

And because, as she so often reminds you, you can tell her no at any time without fear of anger or punishment.

Panties or no panties? A matching set or a soft playsuit for lounging around and nesting? A lacy little bralette or nothing at all?

Actually- I'm going to go for a walk with Hobi today, to the beach. Can I wear one of alpha's sweatshirts?

Of course you can sweetheart.

Maybe because it’s one less decision you have to make, one more way you can let her take care of you. Tae packed your suitcase for this trip because of this newfound sense of give and control.

It's not all endless giving. Tae often checks with you before she does anything too risky.

Tae hadn't been interested in any dominance and submission before you, the one vanilla packmate before her transition. But now that it's here and it's with you, Tae wants and wants and wants. Some of the stuff like with safewords and aftercare she's well acquainted with, but other things are newer for both of you. You know she talks with Namjoon and Jin about it, you know that they are both guiding her with this and teaching her how to be a good dom.

Many evenings Jin looks and inspects what Tae has put you in, their attention makes you shiver and stand straighter, "what a good choice Tae-baby, my good little alpha making our omega so pretty."

One morning blends into another, one morning she doesn't decide at all and then the next she stands there and asks. "Can I push you today?"

You'd squirmed and sat in the dressing room, waiting, negotiating. Jin had already given you a hole check that morning and promised there would be another one later with a heavy look. like he knew before what tae is going to try and do. You'd needed a hole check too- you'd woken up whiney and in omegaspace, sweet and in need of someone to steady your instincts.

"Yes."

You'd stuttered when she'd showed you the dress, the short short hem, fumbled even more when she told you that you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath, that you wouldn't be going anywhere either until someone found out.

(Jimin had been the lucky packmate. Pulling you down onto his lap during breakfast, his bare thighs thick in his shorts. Your cries of "Minnie wait-" came too late when. His raised eyebrows had drawn more than one packmate's attention as he'd held your waist. Stopped you from squirming. his bare skin against your bare skin and wetness, because Tae knew, tae knew and she-

"What is it?" Namjoon had asked. Tae was doing nothing more than grinning and sipping her coffee over his shoulder, watching the situation that she created unfold with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Jimin's fingers had lingered on the hem of your dress. Glancing from you to Tae. "Why don't you come and see hyung?")

Now she holds out a folded dress to you, “guilty.”

You sigh, but Yoongi holds out his hand, helping you stand. You reach for the brush on the counter but Tae beats you to it, standing behind you. So close you can feel her heat down your spine.

You shiver. 

“Guys I can-“

“Nonsense, Mommy will do it.” Tae doesn’t let you lift a finger. And you guess you shouldn’t really be all that fussy or shy, you stay still while Tae detangles your hair and Yoongi starts the shower and sets out your towel and a pair of warm long socks that sit in a heap on top of your folded dress. They won’t have a chance to baby you for the rest of the week (or at least not until Friday when you get home) so you let them take what they can get.

It's not all sexual, it's loving too.

Tae detangles your hair gently, so soft that you're tempted to close your eyes again, especially with the warm steam filling the room. Yoongi stays close, watching you as he stands by the sink and talks to Tae about their plans for tomorrow. Distant plans that you are aware of.

Yoongi's quickly distracted from actually helping you shower by a shout from Hobi downstairs but he doesn't leave without kissing your forehead first. You undress and Tae washes her face and does her skincare routine while you shower. Chatting to you again about your itinerary for today with how she talks you’d almost think that she was coming with but she isn’t.

Today is just for you and Namjoon, the whole weekend really. She’s as excited for you to have some time with Namjoon as you are, maybe even a little bit more excited than you are.

She’s probably just thinking of the outfits.

You're still kind of tired, still kind of half asleep. The steam in the bathroom makes you feel hazy, Tae has to remind you every few seconds not just to lean against the tile under the spray and actually wash your hair. It's just so warm, so nice, here under the warm water surrounded by the scent of her and Yoongi. You paw at the nob to the shower turning it warmer. Sighing when it goes hot.

You must have nodded off for a moment because the rush of cold air from the big glass door opening shocks you into almost slipping. Your hands hit the wet tile to steady yourself. She leans around you, avoiding the water and turning it colder.

“your skin is getting red!” She's alarmed, but not angry as you blink down at your arms and your chest- turned splotchy.

“Yeah, shit, I didn’t realize,” Tae watches you warily, sucking on her lower lip before she prattles on.

"'You're like really sleepy today,"

"Yeah," you say, voice hushed,

"Excited though?" she double-checks.

You grin, dopey "Yeah."

After that everything feels a little hazy, maybe it’s the temperature of the house or just Tae being close. She moves you from the bathroom to the dressing room giggling as you almost bump into the walls, keeping your towel tucked even as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I really think I need some coffee," you say as you rub your eyes and Tae dots cream over your flushed cheeks. Her answering hum does not promise caffeine.

"In a second, I'm almost done. You can close your eyes while I do your makeup if you need to." You try to fight your drowsiness- you really do. But soon the scent at the apex of her shoulder and neck temps you too much and you squirm closer and closer in search of her warmth.

Tae put you in a robe when you got out of the shower but you still feel so cold. So needy. You squirm until you're sat across her thighs, each knee on either side of her hips in your familiar position. Whining when she finishes your skincare and has to scoot back to do your hair taking your only source of warmth with her.

Her giggle makes you want to bear your throat to her. "I can't curl your hair and cuddle you at the same time pup." You whine, but she's immune, "Be good." a small warning in her tone.

You straighten up, blinking hazily up at her and letting her detangle herself from you to stand, until she tells you that you can close your eyes again.

Your head lolls while she blow-dries your hair, tugged from side to side by the round brush. Tae's giggles and voice are a lullaby. The warm air from the drier sends more and more of her scent fluttering over your nose.

She reaches to pin your hair back and you nuzzle into her wrist. “Pup” she stresses. But you get away with it.

Tae keeps the makeup light; a bit of strawberry-colored blush deepening the flush on your cheeks, faint concealer.

She starts to dress you, pulling the underwear up your thighs and hips with a soft barely there kiss pressed over them that makes you squirm. She tugs the socks up to your mid thigh and guides your arms through the sleeves and over your head. The thick fabric feels a little like a blanket over your knees. Tae pulls it down until it covers all of you.

You don’t bother to look in the mirror quite yet, still nodding off every now and then as she sprays hairspray to set your soft curls in place. "There we go- you're perfect." 

Her fingers on your cheeks prompt you to open your eyes and when you do, you find you're sitting in front of the vanity. Tae's behind you, her dark silk robe at odds with the light flutter of your dress. One of her arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other grips your face, turning your face from side to side to show off her handy work. Her fingers pinch just enough that your lips stick out. Red but hazy around the edges like your lipstick got kissed off or maybe kissed on- it's hard to tell.

You look like a doll; You look pretty (you always look pretty once Tae has had her way with you).

"What do you say pup?" Tae and Jin have both ganged up on you a bit recently about your manners. You don’t mind her sternness if anything it just makes you feel smaller and more pupish- both things you like feeling around Tae.

"Thank you, Mommy." You pout, and Tae rewards you with a soft kiss that makes you squirm. her fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"You're welcome, honey. Let’s go show our boys what they're missing."

~-~

Tall dark boots wait for you by the door, another gift from Tae. Side by side with your suitcase. Prepared and waiting.

You giggle and tug her on down the stairs, going a little fast, ignoring her cries of "pup, slow down" The excitement builds until you hit the bottom step and almost slip, the socks from Yoongi fluffy and slick, Tae makes to grab you and the two of you tumble straight into Namjoon.

The pack alpha lets out a quiet oof.

It's a good thing he's so tall and strong, both of his arms shoot out to steady you.

You blink up at him, and his big hands hover on your shoulders. Dancing along the back plunge of the dress. It’s a baby doll style, checkered pink and blue. the front is boatnecked, but the back plunges open, tied closed with a bow. Namjoon touches your skin through the low backline. his palm rough and warm.

Namjoon steps back for a second. Making a pleased noise. Looking you up and down, “Look at you pup.”

Tae just leans back against the railing and preens. You look to the left and into the mirror.

You look so small compared to Namjoon and Tae. Doe-eyed and like something out of a cottage core fantasy in your outfit. It’s a little doll-like in cut and style, the bow on the back almost coquettish. Namjoon’s wide hands cover the open panel of your back. Running up and down again. You can feel his grumbly purr of satisfaction against your chest.

Tae tugs down the bottom hem of your dress. You sway.

Namjoon has put a bit more effort into his outfit today too. His jeans are new and his sneakers are the first pair of non medical grade non-slip ones he’s owned in years. He’s wearing a plane tee under a button-down, just his usual uniform since he’s started spending more and more time at home and only working 3 days a week. You bury your face in the front of Namjoon’s shirt, nosing aimlessly.

He looks every picture of a pack alpha, big and imposing. Unafraid of taking up space. The pack alpha grins down at you, all but bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement. The sight of him makes you leak slick again. Just a little. you wonder if both of your alpha’s can smell it.

Really- what is going on?  

“Tae, you-”

Namjoon’s tongue-tied but Tae just smiles, small, at the corner of her mouth in that special secret way that girls smile. She curls a lock of your hair around one of her fingers. “You’re welcome Joonie”

Namjoon squishes you a little harder to his chest in cute aggression and you feel your chest squish too. Huh, Tae didn’t put you in a bra. you're not upset just confused- obviously, you're gonna want to sleep on the drive and wearing one all that way would be uncomfortable but Your hand comes up, feeling.

“You fussed,” she says, “didn’t want it.” Reading your mind is just one of Tae’s many talents, but you blink. You like the way that the dress billows out, not hugging your body. The darts on the side still give the effect of hugging your figure without it being tight.

You peak up at him and Namjoon's blushing, so you hide your face in his chest instead of confronting it. His hand crests your shoulder pulling you in closer, giving you permission to rub your face in harder. You scent him sleepy until your breath is hitching.

Noodle yowls and slips through your ankles, purring and trailing after Hobi who just huffs happily, watching the three of you from the living room before he continues plucking blankets off the couch, a half-full basket of laundry in his clutches that he ferries down to the basement.

Namjoon's dimples are little crescent moons to the star of his smile when you pull back. immeidatly ducking back down when the sight of him overwhelmes you. “Having fun down there?” He teases.

“Yes,” you reply stubbornly and he laughs, his stomach pushing out against your sternum. You bury your face back in his shirt again, harder this time. Too shy to meet the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“I’ve just got to put the suitcase and my bag in the car and then we’ll be ready to go okay? Wanna get us some coffee?” You nod, and he pecks your forehead before detangling himself from you.

"Tae!" Hobi calls from the basement. "Can you get me your dirty laundry please?" Hobi, "Jk wants to do it when he gets home but I don't want him carrying anything down the stairs." Tae sighs and heads back upstairs.

A loud clang and more cursing interrupts you where you’re standing in the entryway. But it’s just Jinnie. You follow the source of the noise to the kitchen, hovering unsure by the kitchen island.

If you had a good night's sleep last night- it looks like Jin had the opposite.

Jinnie doesn’t look like his usually perfectly curated omega this morning; his striped robe has stains on the hems. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes are puffy. His coffee cup leaves rings where it sits on the countertop like his hands had been shaky when he set it down.

He's got about a dozen bags of flour- semolina and almond, caster sugar and regular sugar taking up every available space in the kitchen. Along with just about everything from the confines of your fridge too. He looks like he's half way between breakfast and a deep clean. Even though it's already almost 10.

You watch as he sighs and rubs a hand across his face furrowing his eyebrows when he thinks that no one’s watching. You sidle up behind him and he jumps a few feet in the air, “pup- I didn’t-” You nudge his shoulder with your nose (a special little omegan hello). Jin exhales, and his shoulders relax, no longer up to his ears.

"What are you looking for?" It's the wrong thing to ask. Jin puffs back up almost instantly. The mirror image of Noodle when there's a fly he just can't seem to catch.

Jin pulls the coffee mugs down from where they sit, one after another, putting them down a little hard and quick. "The syrup! I don't know who put it away last but when I find out who did I'll-"

You smile, and wordlessly go over to the sink, opening the door and bending down to reach around in the cleaning supplies, pulling it from all the way in the back with a quiet ah-ha!

"Oh, you-" Jin blinks down at you a little stunned. Then bristles, voice going darker. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did you put it there?"

You are not intimidated at all by Jin's pack omega shenanigans or his grumpiness this early in the morning. Smiling up at him absolutely unbothered by his sour mood. "No, you did!"

Jin pouts, gesturing at you to explain, you shrug and set it on the counter. "It looks the same as a bottle of cleaning supplies, and the last time you gave the kitchen a deep clean you weren't wearing your glasses."

"Oh." Jin's lips are a near-perfect circle, plush where they pout, annoyed with himself. "Thank you." You get up on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek and dart past him to put your sourdough starter and semolina flour away very very carefully.

Jin starts to undo the rest of his whirlwind, leaving out some of the ingredients so that he can get started on the pancakes. The house is quiet for now, the two of you work side by side in companionable silence.

When you're done, Jin wipes his hands on the cloth. “Do you have everything you need before you go?”

You nod, and Jin's shoulders deflate, leaning up against the counter, he barely manages to hide his crushed expression before he turns away and starts to get to work on the pancakes. He pulls a metal bowl down from the shelf without a word whereas he'd usually ask you for help with it- and starts adding eggs to it indiscriminately, cracking them with one hand.

“Jinnie?” You ask quietly. The eggs go tap-crack-plop. The pack omega hums, but doesn’t look up from the bowl. Pausing after the first few eggs to break the yolks with a large whisk. The scrape of metal against metal jarring.

“Do you, uhm-” his eyebrows are furrowed concentrating on what he’s doing, “Do you want us to stay home today?”

Jin looks up so quickly that he almost cracks the next egg onto the countertop instead of in the bowl. “What! No- what gave you that idea?” Jin sets the bowl down and reaches for you, but you look at his fingers, sticky, and the rest of him- covered with flour. The dress Tae put you in is new, and the flour will surely show.

Jin washes his hands, and dries them, while you get two travel mugs down from the shelf. One green travel mug for Namjoon and a pink one for you. He dries his hands in the cloth while he watches you.

Tae's really really mean, making you look so pretty before you'll leave for so long. Three days. That will be your longest absence from the house, the den, and Jin's nest since the beginning.

Jin feels a little like he's choking. Like his skin is crawling. You're not even going to eat breakfast with them. Even back when Jin still had his day job with the Fbi. Breakfast is your ritual.

Jin lets out a shakey breath, “Of course I want you to go and have fun pup. You and Namjoon have been looking forward to this for weeks.” You pour out coffee and then enough milk into both your and Namjoon’s travel mugs.

“I know, but that wouldn’t mean anything if you wanted us to stay- you seem-” You glance up at him, and miss the next dollop of milk in Namjoon’s cup, getting it all over the counter. “Shit.”

Jin just hums and uses his cloth to whip it up. Almost pinning you to the counter in the process, leaning around you so that he’s sandwiching you in on all sides. His chin hits the top of your head. And when he’s done you flip around looking up at him.

“You’re-” you choose your words carefully, “you’re off today?” he can hear the question in your voice. Tucking an errant hair behind your ear. But he’s not disagreeing with you. You continue to pry. “You feel like Mini does when he’s having a bad sensory day?”

“Yeah,” Jin breathes in and out, and it looks like it takes him effort. You wait for him to say that he needs you, that he really doesn’t want you to go, that the idea of having you outside of the nest is not something that he can handle today.

“Make sure Namjoon texts me when you get there okay? And I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight and show me your nest. If you want to pack some blankets or stuff that smells like us you should- don’t worry about missing the traffic- and- and-”

Hobi thuds up the stairs from the basement, an empty laundry basket in his hands.

“Hey no stealing her-” he wags his fingers, Jin pouts at your alpha, and you watch his eyes follow Hobi. You watch Hobi’s eyes flicker down your body and then back up to your face, and Jin’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Hobi she’s my pup-” but Hobi just wags his finger, you’ve never seen him even try to put Jin in his place before let alone scold him.

Is everyone feeling a little bit off kilter, or is it just you?

“Technically he’s not stealing me, technically I’m stealing his alpha.” Hobi senses the guilty lilt in your voice and shakes his head. Jin pecks your forehead, lingering for just a little bit longer than he might ordinarily before he steps back to his bowl, and adds a dark splash of vanilla to the creamy contents.

“No he's going to get substantially babied by his other three alphas-Jiminie and I are taking everyone out for dinner tomorrow tonight so that no one has to cook or anything- we’re gonna go to one of Tae’s fancy poetry readings and stuff.”

“Oh,” you say. You sort of like Tae’s poetry, sort of love watching her play around with words like she’s a little kid in a sandbox. Two seconds ago, you’d been worried that Jin would feel left out and now-

“Can you check the oil in your car before they leave?” Jin asks. Hobi’s eyes flicker to his and then yours.

“Yeah, when are you guys heading out?”

You pout, feeling guilty, “sort of right now.”

“Oh shit. I thought-” Hobi shakes his head, and for a second you think you see something like disappointment cross his features. “I’ll do it now.”

Hobi has graciously allowed you to borrow his car for the weekend because of its spacious and easy-to-travel interior. Namjoon loads your suitcases into the Lambo while Hobi grabs a wad of paper towels and makes him promise not to ding it- he only just got all the scratches from Jimin buffed out and freshly painted.

Yoongi lingers with you by the front door, watching Hobi pop the hood. Your hands tangled for a second and he drags you in. His cheek resting on top of your head for a second, while you rub your chin across his collarbones, scenting him before you go.

But Namjoon is already waiting by the car, watching you with a soft smile.

Hobi tops the oil off and slowly walks to the front porch, almost like he's prolonging your departure by going as slow as possible. You give a small shiver as the breeze rustles the birdfeeders and the windchimes casting your scent in his direction. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart from you to Yoongi who ever so subtly shakes his head.

Hobi walks up the stairs to you, sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows, curling his hand around your elbow in passing. “One sec- wait.” Namjoon rests his chin on the hood of the car, both your cups steaming into the open air. Yoongi taps his fingers against the balcony railing, and for a second you think he’s going to ask you to stay, that the worry of you going into heat is too much.

But then he doesn’t. You stand close enough to him that his elbow brushes yours.

“Take pictures,” he tells Namjoon. The pack alpha’s cheeks go pink and you make a face. “Yah not those kinds of pictures!” But your mate is smiling and that’s all you need for the last of your nerves to dissipate.

“Love you,” you say without looking at him.

“Love you too, please call.” He looks down at you.

“I will.”

Hobi comes back, he’s got a tangle of fabric in his hands, a scarf of Tae’s, and a hat of his. “It’s not that cold.” You try and wine. “It’s gonna be warm at the hot springs.” Hobi leans down to your level, purposefully pulling his hat over your eyes roughly probably messing up your hair. You whine "My hair- Hobi-" He just grins down at you.

“Do you want to take my jacket? How about some mittens?”

“Guys” You roll your eyes at your packmates, but Yoongi and Hobi wear twin grins. “It is like maybe 50 degrees. Jungkookie went running when it was 30 yesterday.”

“Jungkookie runs all the time.”

“He did it in shorts and without a shirt.” Hobi just messes up your hair again, rubbing around the hat and probably causing a fair amount of frizz. So much for tae's hard work.

“I’ve got the heat warmer on already!” Namjoon calls, and you give your last goodbye kisses before hurring after him down the steps.

“Bye!”

“have fun!”

“Be safe!” 

You ignore the tight feeling in your chest as you pull away from the house, ignoring the same way that Yoongi- still standing on the porch, starts breathing heavily. His eyes going a bit wild, panicking just a tiny tiny bit. Hobi wraps his arms around him in a hug and holds him through the anxiety. You are already down the street when Hobi lets go.

"Breath hyung, it's just a few days, she'll be back by Friday."

"Yeah, Friday." Yoongi replies sullenly.

“She’s gonna be fine hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, staring after you.

~-~

You fall asleep sometimes after the little roadside bakery. it was just as cute as Namjoon promised, with a pink interior and a whole bunch of different scones and muffins and cupcakes. A small purple box of them in the back of the car sloshes with the movement of the backcountry roads. a full belly of half-finished treats, blueberry scones, and coffee cake muffins, lulls you to sleep in the warm interior of the car.

Namjoon’s soft presence in the driver’s seat and his hand on your thigh does wonders to settle you from the fraught feeling that you’d had while leaving the house. Really, you don't know what you were so worried about.

Namjoon leans over when traffic’s paused, to wipe a tiny crumb from your cheek. Smiling softly. Is this how Hobi feels when he goes on drives with you? Namjoon can see why he likes it- watching your head lull, the soft sound of your breathing, and your sweet scent building and building in the contained interior of the car until Namjoon’s lungs ache with it.

You sleep almost the whole way, only waking when the sun is low in the sky and the scenery is starting to go all moss green and pretty. The country roads are not as maintained here- and the wheels of the lambo start to thud and bump over potholes and cracks. One particularly heavy thud makes you rouse.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and you sip from the water bottle and yawn, Your eyelashes feel so heavy. Gone is suburban sprawl and the lights from distant cities. You bob and weave through switchbacks and steep hills. The thick clouds cover the scenery like a blanket. Maybe it’s mist or steam?

It feels like you too are covered with something heavy and hazy.

The onsen is a tangle of buildings deep in a grove of tall pine trees. The forest is dark green and dotted with bright splotches of pink, the whole drive up to the front is lined with them. it's so pretty you press your cheek to the window. You’re not feeling any more awake by the time you roll up to the front of the onsen and Namjoon parks and tells you that you can stay inside while he checks in.

It’s a traditional style building with thick black tiled roofs and smooth polished wooden beams. Deep dark streams run from building to building, and a covered path crisscrosses back and forth. people walk past in white fluffy robes, clutching grey towels to their chests.

A child somewhere giggles, and your eyes flutter closed, leaning your cheek on the door, nose poked out the open window. You can feel the heat from here.

Namjoon gets your keys and your directions to your room from the kind elderly omega at the front. Your suite is at the edge of the property, secluded and far away from the communal baths that require bathing suits. But Namjoon booked this suite for a reason- because it’s private, you don’t need to separate by secondary gender at all.

You don't even need to wear your bathing suits if you don't want too.

It is far away from the main building though, by the time he pulls the car up to the front you have nodded off again, the warm air tickling your face. Hobi’s hat is discarded in your lap.

It’s really warm here, that must be why you fall asleep so easily, right?

You can feel the bob of Namjoon’s steps, his arms underneath you. The feeling of warm air billowing tickles your face. Your arms weakly wind around his neck, when Namjoon sets you on your feet and you teeter, still half asleep.

“Sorry pup, I just need to shut the door.” Namjoon steers you gently towards the bed and you blink, looking up at him, a little out of it. Yawning so wide and long that your jaw pops.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t seem to wake up.”  

“You’re a little scent drunk- it’s okay.” Namjoon presses a glass of water into your hands and you look around your hotel room.

The smooth dark floor compliments the white walls and earth tones of the furniture. The onsen staff were nice enough to open the doors to your courtyard and warm sweet air rolls in along with the steam. From your bed (king-sized, but smaller than you’re used to since your bed at home is two king-sized smushed together) you can see out into the courtyard.

The wide room looks out over onto a courtyard, a deep inset pool on the floor with water that flows freely from one suite to the others- quartered off between units by high wooden fences. Great swathes of grasses and half a dozen tall weeping cherry trees rim the edge of your courtyard.

Grown in and gnarled. They have to have been here longer than you've been alive. Thick roots push up the soil and the grasses and the tiled edge of the pool on the far side. Long tendrils of pink flowers flutter, you have to stand up and go to the opening to get closer.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Namjoon offers, close behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to rest against his chest while you look out at the deep pool. The dark green tile camouflages the bottom and makes the pink petals stand out. Its calm surface dances with flower petals and steam. It’s probably chest-high on Namjoon at its deepest.

“It’s so peaceful,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. Nothing beyond the gentle falling petals and your alpha’s breathing behind you disturbs it. Namjoon's thumbs rub up and down your elbows. His nose trails down the side of your throat.

“Apparently the hot water helps the cherry trees bloom a lot more vibrantly.”

“Do you think Hobi would plant us one of these if we asked him?”

“I think he’d do it the second you said you wanted it. Even if it was 3 in the morning, he’d start digging.”

You giggle and relax back into his touch.

They’re beautiful. You chose the perfect time of year because there’s still countless blossoms on the trees and yet big bunches have gathered on the outdoor patio, some even flutter inside falling like snow.

You squeal, and suddenly with more energy, Namjoon laughs as you pick up a big handful of petals and blow them in his face. "Oh no you don't- this is war!" He stoops, picks up his own handful and you go like that, throwing blossoms at each other like they're snowballs until you're both covered in pink. Giggling and clinging to each other. Namjoon picks one from your eyelashes.

"Wait! Yoongi wanted pictures." You send one to the group chat, your cheek smushed to Namjoon's cheek, both of you covered with tiny pink petals. Namjoon turns and kisses one off your cheek, and the resulting photo ends up becoming his home screen eventually.

“Want to put on our bathing suits?” You nod jauntily, starting to move in the direction of your suitcases to get them but Namjoon shakes his head. “Stay put, I’ll get them.” He pauses for a second, trailing his nose up the side of your throat again, eyebrows furrowed. your whole body goes shivery. He crosses the room to the suitcase while you hide your blush, turning away to watch the cherry blossoms flutter in another strong breeze.

But then there’s a crash and you look back.

Namjoon’s standing pink-cheeked. Looking down at the tangle of clothes and your suitcase upended on the floor. Looking from you to the pile and the rivers of pink and purple and pastel lace upended out onto the floor. The lingerie that Tae packed for you that Namjoon was definitely not supposed to see until they actually got on your body.

 You stoop to get them before he can, shoving them back inside. Cheeks aflame. “Tae- she- I don’t know why she-”

“It’s okay- ugh- uhm” Namjoon is so red you think he might be transmuting into a tomato. Namjoon swallows hard, picks up his swim trunks from the floor and you wheel your luggage into the bathroom, a strappy thong gets tangled in one of the wheels and you drag it with a loud squeak until it's inside.

You shut the door but the damage is already done. You let out a quiet embarrassed whine.

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff so that it doesn't get any more wrinkles. shaking off your embarrassment. It's just Namjoon, he's seen you in your lingerie before.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon nocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared.

You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled. Out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your blood.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little. but you don't let Tae off that easy. “Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark purr.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect. Love you. Have fun. Make sure Namjoon gets a nosebleed.”

“Love you too, tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

~-~

Namjoon does what Tae expected when you open the door.

He’s standing by the edge of the bed looking at his phone, tapping away while you stand, waiting. “I ordered us food, I know it’s a little early but we’re so far away from town, I just thought-”

He looks up at you and promptly drops his phone. He tries to catch it but fails. Then he tries to lean down to grab it and smacks his head on the bed.

It’s soft, so he sort of bounces back up.   

He grips his forehead and you cover your giggle with your hand. “Sorry I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay?”

“Totally fine. Yup. Totally- really good-“ and his mouth goes dry at the away of your hips walking over to him. Namjoon’s red all the way from his collar to his ears.

After a moment of just staring at you he tears off his shirt, over his head, quick. His hair is all fluffy and spikey when he comes out the other side.  “It’s like really hot in here, right? Not just me, right?"

You blink up at him. Your grin already teasing.

"That was not a pick-up line.” He tries to justify. Panicked.

“Sort of sounded like a pick-up line.”

Namjoon stares at your face, “I’m trying really hard not to look down. It’s taking like- all of my brain power.”

You put your arms behind your back, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. “You can look if you want.”

Namjoon does look, eyes drifting from string to string, words tangling behind his bitten lips. You can hear the growl build in his throat. He crosses his arms, biting his fist in an effort not to say something stupid as you twirl and show him your bikini. When you look back, his knuckles bear the red imprints of his teeth. 

“Sorry, let me start again- you look great. Awesome- 5 stars, want to swim with you so hard- I mean bad!  I thought maybe I should order food, so I did that- order food. I know I should have asked you what you want to eat but I just got like- a lot of food instead. And I also door-dash candy because you like sweet stuff for dessert. but the main house sells buns until 8 pm- not that they could be better than your buns- I mean the red bean buns you make a home! Not your butt- I mean that’s really nice too. I mean- shit- I mean-”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“I’ll stop talking yeah. Probably a good idea,” Namjoon leaves his phone on the floor, watching you, blinking like he doesn’t quite believe his eyes. Traceing the strings that cross your body. “Fucking hell-”

In a moment of bravery, you reach back and pull at the strings, and a sound dies in Namjoon’s throat as it falls off of you string by string. You keep eye contact with Namjoon the whole time. You watch him swallow hard, and it seems like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You reach to the side of your hip and pull at those strings too and the rest falls to the floor.

Namjoon forcefully keeps his eyes on your face, But his eyes are dark and gentle, honey and vibrant with the force of his wanting, lips parting in an unsteady breath.

“Fuck”

You turn and walk into the pool, not looking back at him as you go. your heart thundering in your ears as you struggle not to trip or slip on the smooth decking and then grab onto the railing like a lifeline and lower yourself into the dark water.

The onsen water is clear and clean- warm almost to the point of being too hot and stinging your skin. But some part of you, the same part of you that had you turning belly down in the nest earlier, loves the warmth and wants to roll around in it. Easing in with a sigh, looking back at him, your hair tickling your shoulders wet.

You don’t speak, and neither does he as he walks to the edge of the decking, following you as if he’s in a trance.

Namjoon stands there for a moment. And then he stoops, pulls down his swimming trunks too, somehow manages not to trip over them while he steps out of them in the process. And you can’t stop your flickering eyes south.

You lean your cheek up against the smooth wood decking and look up at him.

He's almost all the way hard, your pulse quickens at the way his cock lies against his thigh, the way he twitches just a little under your gaze. you push back and float into the middle of the pool.

He follows you in and when he moves through the dark water in your direction you don’t move back. you let him scoop you up and pull your slick body against this. Both of you bare, both of you hidden beneath the dark water. He feels so good, hard and strong and familiar against your front. The last of your fear disappears the second Namjoon touches you and you remember.

For a second you think his hands are going to slide south to grab at your ass, your chest, or anywhere else- but he doesn't. Namjoon doesn't make to kiss you, he just holds you to his chest, hugging you bare. The same way he hugs you in the morning, at night when he gets home. You're nude, but instead of making to have you. For a second Namjoon just holds you.

Safe.

“You know, even though we’re nude we don’t need to- if you don’t-” he pauses and you watch Namjoon war with what this calls for too. A very sexy vacation usually means lots of filthy nasty sex but-

Namjoon’s pectorals in the water cause little ripples. You wind your arms around his neck pressing yourself closer. The water might be warm, but it's him you reach for and cling to in the water.

“Can we just stay here for a while? Just close like this?”

“Yeah,” His voice sounds so husky, so rough, his nose traces yours, but he doesn't lean in to kiss you. Just holding you is enough. There will be more than enough time for kisses later. “Yeah, I like the idea of that.”

Namjoon takes you to the deep end, still holding you up, past the point where your feet can touch the bottom. The warm water and his warm body around you feels so good. You can feel his hard cock pressed between you and your stomach (it’s kind of hard to ignore the literal third leg that Namjoon has) but there’s no rush to do anything about it as he holds you. No rush to abandon the quiet and the gently falling dusk.

The pink petals that dance on the surface of the hot water like stars dance upon the night sky. The steam rises up around you and water gathers on Namjoon’s lower lip.

Namjoon does not try and touch you, he doesn’t slide his hands down to your ass, he just pulls back to look at you and yet keeps you snug. Your nipples are hard, brush his skin, and you hiss, sensitive. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to do anything but hold you in the water.

He sways on his tippy toes, and you kick your feet a little, he has a good hold on you but just barely, laughing softly. He meanders back to where it's shallow and he can hold you properly, an apology in his smile. You've got one hand around the back of his neck, your cheek resting against his chest listening to the rabbit hum of his heartbeat, your eyes drooping a little, eyelids heavy.

His hand pets through your hair, tangling at the nape of your neck. Cradling you close. “Thank you for coming all this way with me, I really wanted this, just-” His arms tighten around you, “Just this. Physical intimacy isn’t just sex and cuddling. This is perfect.”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice blocked out by the sound of his heartbeat- or is it yours that you can hear awfully loud? beating rapidly, thudding harder and harder.

It's weird, your heart is beating so fast but you still feel so tired. so tired you just might-

“I know I don’t say it often, but I- I really love you; I need to say it more often.” You want to say it back but your mouth is just so sluggish, so tired. Your arms start to go slack around his neck. “I love you so much pup.”

In the silence, the gurgle of the water grows louder and louder and louder.

“Pup?” Namjoon pulls away from you for a second to look at your face. Without your arms around his neck, you sink like a lead weight. The water slides past your mouth.

“Pup!”

~-~

(The pack, now)

In the wake of you and Namjoon leaving everything feels a little bit off kilter. A little bit not right.

No sooner has the car pulled out of the driveway and your scent has dissipated from the house than Jin is stifling his sniffles and excusing himself to the bathroom only to come back smelling soggy and hormonal and with red-rimmed eyes.

Yoongi casts worried glances in the direction of the driveway and Jimin and Jungkook come back from their run, with a huff and a giggle of thudding feet on the porch. Having nearly everyone home does little to settle or lighten the mood.

They come inside, sweaty and yet cold, scents sweetening until they don't. Hobi watches them realize, almost comically that the den is two packmates short. Jimin goes into Tae's library room and returns empty-handed. Jungkook looks from the couch to Jin's side, his smile falling. “Did they leave already?”

Jin covers his nose with his sleeve. Scowling in Jungkook's direction. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Damn,” Jungkook pouts, “I really wanted to see them off.”

Jin turns back to his pancakes with a huff before Jimin can catch his eye.  Jimin moves close, but Jin sidesteps him so fluidly that Hobi could almost convince himself that it is just that- fluid and thoughtless.

But Hobi’s not sure. Something feels off. Jin’s scent is too sour, too disjointed like the sweetness and sourness are separate notes for it to be entirely incidental. Jin wrinkles his nose, eyes on the batter, whisking it smooth (he'd deemed the first batch non-palatable and started all over again, under the threat of tears), “Can you shower Jiminie? And would someone open the windows- it’s stifling in here.”

Jimin is a good alpha, just nods and looks Jin over. “Okay hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Minnie just-“ Jin ignores Jimin’s puppy eyes and Jungkook’s and Tae’s (Yoongi still hasn’t torn his eyes off of the driveway) gesturing wildly with the whisk. “If you don’t all settle then you'll have to have breakfast on the table instead of the couch where I know you stinky little pups want to eat it. I’ll count to three. One”

That’s all it takes, and the three of them are leaping hand over hand to sit on the couch instead. Jin fluffs back, satisfied at being obeyed. Hobi stays close. Jimin scents over Tae’s shoulder and then heads upstairs.

“Let me help?” Hobi offers, and Jin nods, sidestepping him once again as Hobi reaches around him to turn on the electric griddle.

Hobi doesn’t play music while they cook for the sake of Saturday morning cartoons (they’re not cartoons- just the episode of the drama that Tae missed last night when she decided she’d rather retreat upstairs with you and Hobi instead of watching it with Jin. And it’s a Wednesday, not a Saturday) the familiar just-seen sounds do not lull Jin into a reverie, because Jin is not easily lulled this morning.

Something is wrong with Jin hyung, and he just won’t say what.

Instead of retreating to the couch to cuddle like Hobi can tell Jin needs, he just keeps cooking. Even though Hobi's usually the one who handles pancakes, makes them into nice hearts and stars and squiggles. Not the weird and lopsided ovals that Jin makes. Jin just can’t sit down or stop moving, can't stop the feeling like something bad will happen if he stops-

An animal claws at his chest, a feeling without a name, hungry and frightened. A wolf backed into a corner will bite and Jin feels claustrophobic- something pressing in around him from all sides.

Your scent and Jungkook’s scents are the only ones unoffensive for some reason (Yoongi's would be too- if he didn't smell so worried), maybe it's because you're among the lowest in the hierarchy. Hobi's is a little better- if only because he smells like soft alpha instead of heady strong alpha. Hobi’s caramel scent is mild. At ease.

For that reason alone, he's allowed to stay close. 

Something in Jin's chest purrs when he gets Jin a plate for the finished pancakes. What a good alpha, what a capable alpha. So thoughtful.

Pack Alpha chose well.

Pack alpha? Where is alpha? Abandoned? Alone? Pup? Where is pup? Stole pup. Bad alpha. Nest thief. Icky alphas shouldn't steal pups that don't belong to them. Need pup. Need nest, need pack alpha, need-

Jin breathes in for 5 and out for 9. Unsure why his instincts are making a rare appearance this morning, why he's feeling his inner omega chomping at the edges of his mind for a chance to get out.

He busies himself making more pancakes than any one pack could conceivably eat in one morning. No matter how many times Hobi and Tae ask him to just rest. To put the batter away for later, he just hums at them and moves on.

It’s like he’s worried he’ll lose his momentum if he sits. Standing in front of the sizzling griddle with a spatula in hand his pout ever-present. Making more and more pancakes even though almost everyone is full. Jimin comes back and takes a good stack. Jin almost purrs in satisfaction.

Jin hasn’t even eaten a single one.

Jungkook watches Jin from the kitchen island where he munches on his plate, not taking his eyes off of the other omega. Lips glossy from maple syrup.

The pancakes pile up high with no one to eat them and the hours drag on and on. Past the time when you and Namjoon should have arrived at the onsen. Jungkook’s cheeks are sticky and round with the bites. Jin says he’s not hungry, but the truth is his stomach is roiling with nausea.

Yoongi and Hobi cast glances at each other over his head, at least whenever Yoongi tares his focus away from the driveway.

Jin hyung might be inconsolable, but Yoongi's distress is a little more manageable. He steps close as they wash dishes, bumping elbows and trying to catch the beta's eye. “Want to go for a drive later hyung?”

If Hobi asked you he knows you’d be up and out the door without another word. But Yoongi is not you. Yoongi just glances, looking from Hobi to the front door nervously.

Something is definitely up.

After a moment Yoongi just shakes his head, and Hobi tries not to feel a little disappointed. “Sorry Daisy, just-” Something flickers across Yoongi’s face. He’s really bad at keeping secrets, Hobi doesn't know how he kept the whole mafia thing under wraps for so long. His concern for you is so palpable that Hobi almost wants to call you just to alleviate it.

(That wouldn't be right, the whole pack had agreed to leave your and Namjoon's time alone, to give you both space this weekend. It's okay. It's going to be okay; they'll survive.)

(This sucks, not having everyone togeather sucks, everything sucks.)

Maybe Hobi doesn't understand Yoongi's single-minded focus- not being mated and all. Does Yoongi feel your absence like a physical ache? Or is it more of a wound without any blood? What does it feel like- to have your soul-bonded partner so far away?

The beta hums, looking back out the window. Noodle is out there, in the middle of the cul-de-sac staring yoongi down through the kitchen window.

Yoongi flinches. "Jesus Christ that fucking cat-"

Hobi glances up and smiles. Noodle's tail goes up and he trots to the front door at the sight of Hobi in the window. Hobi snorts, "He's just like you waiting for her to come home."

“He is not like me, if I was a cat I'd be less fluffy. And probably black."

"Whatever you say hyung."

Jin snorts, getting in on it, acting normal for the first time in hours and Hobi wants to sag against the countertop in relief. "You'd have a rat tail. it would have like no hair."

"Would not"

"Would too-"

Jimin's footsteps thunder down the stairs. "I'd be a Calico!"

"You'd be a munchkin Minnie- not a calico."

"Can I be a Norwegian forest cat? The orange ones? They're so pretty!"

Tae prattles on about Warrior Cats, one of the first series that she ever read, and everyone lets her talk about the story because everyone is sort of hopelessly in love with Tae. As the only girl home right now- she deserves a little bit of indulging.

Jungkook stays silent, watching Jin. It's a little unnerving like Noodle watching Yoongi through the open window. Jin ignores him.

Hobi puts the bowl of pancake batter to the side. Reaching out to tangle his hand with Yoongi, kicking a hip against the counter. “You sure getting out of here might not help you for a little bit?” It's a weak offering even to Hobi's own ears. Yoongi tips his head to the TV.

"It's just getting good, maybe- maybe later?" Hobi hums in agreement, later he can handle. Later still means there might be more instead of outright rejection. 

On the screen, the K-drama villain has a predictable meltdown about a trivial work conflict. Tae sits with her legs folded under her at rapt attention.

There is a brush between her and Jimin on the couch. Hobi wishes he could capture the way that Jimin is looking at her and save it to show you. He's drinking in her little ohs and ahs like they're ambrosia as he combs her hair back and does her little French braids. Jimin has been practicing. Hobi watches as he delicately tucks her little baby hairs into the twist, not missing a single one.

Tae's bubblegum mouth widens at the love confession on screen. "I knew it! I knew he couldn't have secondary lead syndrome!" Jimin just huffs letting Tae shift moving with her before the braids have a chance to pull out of his hands.

"You were right" he agrees, "I shouldn't have been suspicious." Tae glances back at him, smiles in that told you so but I'm not going to say it way, and then turns back. Hobi smiles a little; he’s so down bad.

Jungkook sits at the kitchen island instead of the couch, alternating between watching the TV and watching Jin. Eyes bright with suspicion.

Jin flips each of the pancakes in quick secession, goes back to whipping up fresh batter, and then goes back to flipping so quick that it almost gives Hobi whiplash. Yoongi notices it too, goes over to Jin’s side trying to touch his elbow but is met with a short-tempered glare.

“Jinnie honey, I think you’ve made enough pancakes.”

Jin scoffs and continues, it doesn’t matter that it’s well into the afternoon now, that really- they could and should be making dinner at this point. The whole day has come and gone with the pack just like this, cooking pancakes and watching Jin like he’s a ticking time bomb.

“Just one more-” Yoongi sighs. Jin goes back to flipping the pancakes. Doing it with too much force, too much finesse.

Jin tries to flip one and misses. It lands batter-side down on the floor with a wet thwack.

Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jin all look at it for a second. And then Jin sort of predictably- sort of out of nowhere, bursts into tears.

“Hyung? Hyung, what’s up? Hey don’t-"

Jin scrubs at his eyes angrily, shaking his head and stopping Hobi from cupping his cheeks. Side-stepping Yoongi’s out-stretched hands, and slapping the entire metal bowl of pancake batter (still a quarter full) into the sink with a loud clang of dishes and ceramic. Maybe something breaks.

He waves off Hobi’s hands, big rivulets carving their way down his cheeks.

Jimin reaches to pause the drama. Getting up in about two seconds, detangling himself from Tae with a startled, “hyung?”

Jungkook huffs and everything feels dissonant. How is it that everything feels off with just you and Namjoon gone? Everyone is a little on edge. If Namjoon were here he’d just hug Jin and everything would be fine. If you were here- you’d bound up between both Hobi and Yoongi and make them go on a walk with you to see more flowers and it would be just that- easy and effortless.

This is not easy, and the effort is palpable. The way that Jin has to steady his breath and articulate his words. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine just-”

Jin shares a look with Yoongi and Yoongi looks away.

Now Hobi really feels left out, hands tightening, looking from one packmate to another, “what’s wrong? What aren’t you guys saying? Why are you crying?”

Jungkook’s lips smack together with the sound of syrup sticking to his plush lips. His fork scrapes dully against his plate and Hobi grits his teeth. 

“What?” he stresses.

Jungkook just shrugs and chews. “Yoongi's upset because he knew Y/n was in pre-heat but he let her leave anyway and now he's regretting it” The ice water feeling of shock settling over his whole body is enough that Hobi almost misses Jungkook’s next words. “-And Jin Hyung’s upset because he’s in pre-heat too and just doesn’t want to admit it. Because if he admits it then it means that his alpha left his nest with his pup and that makes him feel sad. He’s feeling sensitive so don't tease.”

Are you in pre-heat? Is this really happening? Hobi thinks back to how you’d looked when you’d left; How you’d looked cold just standing in the kitchen, looked a little ashen too- like you hadn’t been able to wake up all the way.

You hadn’t looked like you were going into pre-heat this morning- granted going into heat looks a little different on every omega but you were nothing like Jin is now; snappish, overstimulated, bratty. If anything, you’d just looked tired and a little cold. almost like…

Almost like your body was telling you to stay put. To stay and nest where it’s safe.

Only you hadn’t listened, and now you're three hours away from them with only one alpha instead of the many you'll need.

Hobi feels so many things in quick succession. One second shocked the next insecure and sort of disappointed in himself for not realizing it and being more attuned with his packmates. The next thing he feels is begrudging relief because Hobi's not being a bad packmate; none of them know just what your pre-heat looks like yet. They can all be forgiven for not noticing- Even Yoongi who despite the mating bond has never seen you in heat before.

There's also a possibility that they're wrong too- you could be going into a false heat, or you could just have been looking sick this morning. There is no real way to know without you here. If you actually are in heat, Namjoon will notice.

Jin is another story.

Jin's pre-heats never look like this.

Usually, he starts them feeling needy and over-tired. Sometimes his temperature drops because Jin's body is trying to force him to nest. the same way yours might have been this morning.

Then his body pushes him closer and closer to omegaspace. That's the first tip-off; because Jin doesn't need omegaspace the same way you or Jungkook do. Whereas you get almost babyish, sluggish, and tiny- Jin gets pouty and mothering like a broody hen.  It's the difference between pack-omegaspace and regular omegaspace.

Suddenly, the pile of pancakes makes a lot of sense. Jin isn't just making sure his own body is prepared for his heat, but the rest of theirs is too. His nestmates, his pups.

9 times out of 10 Namjoon knows before Jin does, tells him, warns him and the rest of them, and the pack has more time to prepare. Jungkook is a little more sporadic, rarely ever goes cold before he goes hot, just treads straight into a fever and omegaspace zoomies that slowly melts into a need to be bred full.

But when Hobi breathes deep he catches it- the faintest hint of cloying sweetness drawing them in. Breeding hormones are to an alpha like a moth is to a flame and Jin is only just starting to smell sweeter. He's so upset that Hobi can hardly make sense of the sweetness in the sourness of his scent.  

That's the thing about broody pack omega's- they go protective before they go sweet.

Jin goes from upset to angry quick enough to give the whole pack whiplash. Enough that Jimin has to get in between Yoongi and him with the way Jin lunges. Jin's teeth snap sending the rest of the reeling. Jimin is several heads shorter than Jin, and can’t contain him or the anger of an omega on a hormone high.     Jin's hiss is acidic as he grips Yoongi's shoulders around Jimin, “You let my pup go away, you let my pup go when she could be in heat? Have you lost your mind?”

For what it’s worth Yoongi does not flinch. He doesn’t even move away when Jin grabs him by his chubby cheeks. Jin looks like he hasn’t even absorbed the second part of Jungkook’s message.

“Namjoon’s clueless when it comes to heats! He’s an alpha- he’s not going to be able to help her nest or keep her safe or-” Jin pales, actually goes white as a sheet. Yoongi’s teeth worry at his lower lip.

“She wanted to go, she wanted to make her own choices and she said she wasn’t in pre so I trusted her.”

“She is a pup Yoongi!” Jin bares his teeth. Eyes wild, that picture of a pack omega whose nest has just been threatened. Whose pup has just been stolen.

“She deserves to decide what she wants to do for herself- if she wants to spend her heat with just Namjoon then we’ve got to respect that."

Jin doesn’t like it- how Yoongi’s talking back. He Likes what Yoongi's insinuating even less: that you wouldn’t want the pack to help you through your heat, that you do not need them.

But you do need them. You need them for everything like a pup would. To remind you to brush your hair and be safe and careful. You certainly need them to mind your pleasure and well-being like a garden. You need your pack omega. Yoongi is being stupid. He needs Jin to guide him too- Obviously.

Jin moves, dragging Yoongi over to the kitchen island. For what it's worth Yoongi doesn't fight him or tell him off. Looking just as shocked by the turn of events as they all are. Jin looks a little wild. Tae hides her laugh behind a hand.

It’s not often Jin takes the Hyungs over his lap for a spanking. Hobi just sighs from behind his ruffled apron when he realizes what's about to happen.

“In front of my pancakes hyung? Really?”

Jin holds Yoongi’s nape in between his fingers and bends him low over the counter before dispensing a volley of swats over his behind. they're not hard, Yoongi looks more shocked than scolded. More turned on than upset.

“My pup does not belong to Namjoon!” Yoongi does not push against Jin’s grip because even he can see this is what Jinnie needs. If Jin really is in pre-heat then this is like a balm to his emotions- friable and feeble. Jin doesn't tolerate feeling out of control and if doling out a punishment is what he needs to feel steady then the whole pack will get on their knees.

Jin’s almost teary when he says it “She should be with me- especially if she’s in pre-heat. She’s mine- not Namjoon’s- not yours- mine.”

Other omega’s serve a purpose during the pack omega’s heat; they're there to make sure the nest stays tended to, prepared for pups and alpha’s. Other omega’s are there to warm and fluff and cuddle between the spikes of heat when the need for a knot becomes a need for simple closeness. With scent and touch sensitivity heightened- a soft omega is the equivalent of a fresh breath of air.

(Even then, Jin’s anger at you for not being home is a little over the top. Especially given that out of all of them Yoongi has maybe the greatest incentive to want you home).

Jungkook knows this, he lets Jin have a few spanks, a dozen before he stands up, wipes his hands clean of sticky syrup, and reaches out to pinch Jin’s scent gland.

A whine shocks out of Jin’s throat and he clamps a hand over his mouth, blinking rapidly. The rest of the pack watches as the wild threatened look vanishes from Jin’s eyes and it’s like he’s lucid for a moment. He seems to realize what he’s doing looking down at the position he has Yoongi in. The beta’s flaming cheeks and shocked blinking. The vaguely amused look in Tae’s eyes, the gentle resignation and concern in Jungkook’s. He lets Yoongi go quickly, hands trembling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Yoongi gets up, pink-cheeked, and Jin backs away from all of them. “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t even want to do that.” He’s close to tears again.  It’s not the first time one of them got an impromptu spanking from the pack omega. But what is shocking is Jin’s guilt.

There is a certain level of dominance that they've all agreed to all consented to being a part of this pack. Jin didn't even hurt Yoongi, and he's not thinking clearly. Hobi doubts there's even red marks.

Jin just needs an outlet for his instincts.

Jungkook stalks towards him, determined, and the hair on the back of Jin’s neck stands up.

“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried about her when you’re so clearly in pre-heat too hyung. Don't ignore me.”

Jin nearly snaps his teeth with how quick he goes toe to toe with the youngest. The alpha’s do worse regularly when tensions are high, but still it’s so strange to see Jin act anything like aggressive- especially directed against the youngest and for hardly anything more than a cocky tone. Jin and Jungkook go toe to toe.

“I’m not ignoring you, you're just wrong. I’m not in pre-heat."

Jungkook just grins and reaches out to touch Jin’s chest. Cupping him where he knows he’s sensitive. Jin lets out a high-pitched keen and almost sags, would probably fall if Jungkook didn't catch him by the elbow. 

It makes every alpha in the room stand to attention. Sit up. Nervous. “Sensitive here, right? And you still want to say you’re not- when you’ve been snappy the whole day because you just want to nest and not be upright- when you just want what your alphas aren’t giving you- your omega’s and your knots.”

Jin bites his lips, covering his chest with his hands and stepping back. Looking a little stunned. “You’re in pre-heat hyung.”

The whole room is silent, but after a second, Hobi reaches for Jin’s phone on the counter. “I’m calling Namjoon.”

Jin’s hand wraps around Hobi’s wrist stopping him- his upper lip lifts in a near feral hiss.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

~-~

(You and namjoon)

You wrap the terry cloth robe around you more firmly, fighting back a blush as the manager of the onsen stands up from your side. If she were an alpha, things would be a lot different and you doubt that Namjoon would let her get at all close to you. But Namjoon doesn’t have any problem with letting her check you over, verifying that the water wasn’t too hot and that everything is fine.

Everything is far from fine.

There had to have been some reason for you to pass out no more than an hour ago. You didn’t just fall asleep- that much you know, after coming too to black spots in your vision and dizziness so complete you doubt you could stand without falling over right now. To Namjoon frantically calling your name and covering you with a towel.

Everything smells a little off too- a little dampened, you paw at your nose, wondering why you can’t seem to smell the omega- given she’s old. But you can’t smell Namjoon either. It’s a little distressing, not being able to smell your pack alpha. Your nose doesn’t feel stuffy.

Weird.

Namjoon checked you over too. You’d already sort of been coming around after he dragged your limp body out of the hot water, but he’d been a little startled. You’re kind of thankful that his frantic call had fucked up, that he’d accidentally called the front desk instead of 911 if only to spare yourself the embarrassment of a trip to the hospital and probably a trip home.  

You feel too sluggish for that- like everything is moving at 2x speed and your brain is on pause. Now, you rub at your nose and let Namjoon and the omega duke it out. “It was probably just the heat of the onsen. Young omegas tend to be a little more affected by sharp temperature changes.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, “she’s taken hot baths before.”

The elderly omega raises her eyebrow, “In magnesium-rich water?”

Namjoon deflates and admits “No” after a second. She stands from the bed and nods like her work is done. “it was in the pamphlet. I recommend you rest well tonight and then enjoy it in the morning, you’ve traveled far.” Namjoon holds your hand tight. His fingers pressed to your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his skin.

“The pamphlet?” The manager hunts it down, and after a second digs it out from under the bed, cast from the bed to the floor by the mishap with your suitcase. Leave it to Joonie to be so excited he didn’t look before he put it down. Properly scolded, Namjoon takes the pamphlet.

Namjoon says something to the old lady in the doorway, comes back inside with a few plastic shopping bags, and you remember the food. It must have been delivered sometime in the last hour, because it still looks and smells hot when he sets it on the side table.

Huh, your nose doesn't seem to have any problem smelling the food- just Namjoon. Weird.

Namjoon’s looking at you in a way that you’re familiar with. The same way he looks at Jungkook after his seizures. “Can you get me a shirt?” Namjoon gives you one of his, probably the one he’d planned on sleeping in. He watches as you pull it over your head, watches as it pools on your bare thigh.

It’s nighttime now, and the lights outside are mainly pointed up at the trees lighting them from below. You leave the large glass doors open, cautioning in some of the warm sweet-smelling air and a few cherry blossoms inside. They flutter and stick to the big puddles on the wooden floor. Puddles from you when Namjoon dragged you out of the water catch the light like silver.

Namjoon’s medical bag is already on the side. He must have gotten it from the car although you’re not sure when. You look at him and he tucks his chin looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The concern in his eyes makes you feel all warm in your stomach.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like that until you check me again?”

“Yes” you make a noise, and surrender yourself to him again, Namjoon moves- almost jaunty.

He checks your blood pressure again, the movement behind your eyes with a small flashlight, you follow his instructions like the good pup you are. Everything quiet except for the faint trickle of water outside and the low hum of his voice.

When Namjoon asks you to lean forward so that he can sneak a stethoscope onto your back and listen to your lungs and heart, you nose and nuzzle at his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering. After a few moments, he makes to stand back but your arms tug him close, keep him that way, almost purring.

Now you know why you couldn’t smell him earlier- it’s because you weren’t close enough, now you’re under his thumb you can finally smell him again and he smells so musky. You drink him in, rubbing small circles with your nose.

"Pup" he stresses. You pay him no mind.

Namjoon smells good today. Really really good. you’re not sure what it is but- he smells richer, maybe not any different than usual- but almost like you can sense more. Pick up on every little thing, every pulse of his heartbeat makes his scent flutter out stronger like a ripple. Promising safety and protection. You really are going to start purring.

Namjoon stops you the second before you try to bite him.

You blink up at him, mouth open. His hand grips your cheeks and you close your mouth with a faint click. "Sorry- I don't know why I-" Namjoon bites his lip while you rub your eyes, he waits until you can quiet the purring in your throat. You search for the word, “purry? bitey?”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon’s still watching you like a hawk.

You blink slowly, eyelids heavy. You’re still really tired, really drowsy. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your heart rate is a little slow. I’m worried.”

“I’m fine Joonie.” He looks at your lips and then your eyes, “really.” You shake yourself awake a little. “Wanna eat so much food we get a food coma and then sleep it off?” It’s barely 6pm but it sounds like a good idea. Namjoon tosses his stethoscope into the chair in the corner of the room and sighs.

Luckily- someone else but Tae seems to have a hand in at least packing you one or two comfy sets of clothes. You’re mostly clean, too sleepy and dizzy to think about showering again. You dress deftly in your pj’s and Namjoon dresses with his and sets out the food you rest up against the bed, it’s not as good as your nest but still- the sheets are smooth and soft.

You wrinkle your nose, you can’t smell anyone but Namjoon, lifting your sleeve to your nose you breathe a deep breath and get a bit of Jin and Jungkook- that does more to settle you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve nested without either of them or their scents. You’re not sure you like it, you’re not sure you want to nest here.

Namjoon comes back with the rest of the food, but leaves it in a heap on the side table. There’s a lump in his throat and his scent sours. “I’m sorry this isn’t more fun.”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Joonie, and this is fun. I’m sorry I passed out.”

Your pack alpha shakes his head, “not your fault. We’ll just wait until you get a bit more rest. We can enjoy it tomorrow, right?” You nod, and shuffle over to the edge of the bed so you can kiss him. His pout turns into a smile against your mouth but it still feels like an apology.

“Even just lying here- pinging out on food is still gonna be fun.” Your tone turns to tease. “I mean I know we both through this was supposed to be like a romantic vacation rather than a vacation vacation but-"

Namjoon shakes his head, “I just want to spend time with you.”   

The two of you get fat and happy on dumplings and pork fried rice, the kind of salty bad American Chinese food that you and Namjoon are both familiar with, that you both like even if the rest of the pack doesn’t.

Over the next hour with the TV droning and the warm air wafting into the room- you talk about everything. Spilling peach rings and gummy bears and red vines onto the bedspread. Your feet against his shins, your legs over his lap.

You talk about everything- your childhoods, the fact that yoongi's really close to finishing renovations on the house, getting Noodle a sibling. All of it. That one time that Jimin and Hobi had a competition to see who could eat the most crab Rangoon's in a single sitting and almost vomited. Everything. Reclined back against the bed. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that you’re alright, that nothing is wrong.

But then you get up to brush your teeth.

Namjoon is just shutting the door and the outside lights, turning your room into a pocket of dim yellow light. half of the food put away in the mini fridge but the other half still out and open for grazing. Everything has started to feel cozy and sleepy again and maybe- maybe tomorrow when you wake up, you'll finally feel better.

You’re just rounding the corner into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when the cramping hits you.

“Ow ow ow what the fuck-”

You almost drop to your knees at the pain, crouching over, catching yourself on the doorway. curling over, anything to release the pressure, the horrible tenseness and unfamiliar pain in your stomach. You go white as a sheet and Namjoon looks so startled. Shouting your name and jumping over the bed, knocking over an open and nearly full container of fried pork rice plain onto the ground. Your toothbrush falls onto the hotel room floor.

“Pup! What’s wrong!? What’s-” Namjoon’s hands are on your shoulders and You’re still holding your stomach, blinking back the tears in your eyes and whimpering. Namjoon pries your fingers away from your stomach to see- but there’s nothing. Namjoon touches your stomach- and you keen.

Namjoon’s nostrils flare. And he picks you up from where you’re crumpled on the floor. It’s not so difficult for him, although he sets you down on the bed with less finesse.

The cramping lasts for a few more seconds. You’re panting by the time it dissipates. Namjoon makes it so so much better- rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine, tucking his chin over the ball of your shoulder, and holding you. Ushering you as close to his chest and neck as he can. Something about your alpha being close makes all of this better- makes the cramps subside.

“It’s okay pup, it’s okay, I’ve got you, alphas got you.”

Namjoon’s muscles are shaking. He waits until the cramping stops and you're just breathing heavily. But then he sets you back gently against the bed. You’re dazed and dizzy where you lie. Whining in displeasure when Namjoon pulls away. Trying to guide your hands away from your stomach. shanking your head as he tries to get you to stop holding it.

“Let me see pup, let me see- Omega.”

Your body breaks out into full body shivers, hands going limp, you freeze and bear your throat so quick you don't even realize what you're doing. Head spinning. room spinning. Your Focus narrows down to Namjoon and his command, Namjoon and what he wants Namjoon and-

His eyebrows are knit together and he’s concentrating on something- thinking hard as he gently detangles your hands

Namjoon swallows, then leans down. Ducking in and sniffing at your stomach. Breathing deep. Nose brushing your naval.

He jerks back abruptly, eyes wide.

Namjoon bursts into action, crossing the room and going into the bathroom where he starts to shove your clothes into your suitcase. Everything from the crumpled lingerie that had tumbled out earlier, to his dirty clothes and bathing suit, everything shoved back inside with little care.

“Fuck- fuck-“

You sit up, hair ruffled, “Joonie?” Your dress for tomorrow night gets stuffed into the suitcase roughly, with little care for the delicate silk he can’t get it closed around the hanger.

“We’re going home.” Namjoon looks so stressed, you half wish you’d never driven all the way out here in the first place.

“What? Why-“

Namjoon’s phone is on the bed and buried in the sheets, but it starts to ring, its tone loud and shrill. Namjoon hesitates, looking at you and then at the phone. But it’s Hobi's contact, and you reach for it almost before he does.

“Hyung thank god-” someone's shouting in the background, it’s Tae even if Hobi's phone is calling. Namjoon put it on speaker but the overlap of loud voices makes the speaker on his phone crackle.

“Give me the phone- I can-” “No let her speak!” You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so bratty, Jungkook whines and it’s hard to tell exactly who hit the phone and Who exactly called. Their voices overlap, everyone is trying to speak at once. “Stop squirming-” "hurry up, Hobi can only distract him for so long."

Namjoon doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to comply, just says “Guys!” in a slightly stern tone and they all fall silent.

“Something’s happening, I’m coming home- we- she’s-” Namjoon looks at you, and you get the sense that he knows something and he’s just not telling you.

“Oh, thank god” Yoongi sounds relived.

“Please hurry,” Jimin asks, but Jungkook comes over, snapping his reply.

“We need to tell him- Jin hyung-" There’s a sound of skin hitting skin, and muffled voices like someone just put their hand over Jungkook’s mouth.

Namjoon does not look away from the phone, hand tightening around it. “Wait what’s wrong? What’s going on with Jin?”

You perk up at the sound of his name. The pack omega? What possibly could be going on that they need to tell you about. “Omega?” You ask, and Namjoon almost hisses.

“Pup" The relief and tiredness is palpable in Jin's voice, he sounds substantially less stern when he hears your voice. "I’m fine, pup, just-” Silence again. You wish they’d face timed, that you could see their faces and they could see yours.

“We waited until we were sure and Jin hyung didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin your vacation but- but-” Jungkook stutters and Jimin comes in behind him. At the sound of one of your alpha’s, you chirp. Slapping a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“Jin hyung is in heat.”

You hear a sound, something like a door opening, and Jin's stern tone comes through the line. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I told you I didn't want to tell them until tomorrow morning."  Jin sounds cross, sounds actually angry.

Namjoon looks down at you, gaze conflicted. “Fucking hell.”

“I know- I’m sorry, we waited until we were sure but he started feeling crampy a few minutes ago-”

You touch your own stomach, crampy. Huh that means-

"No, I'm not upset just-” 

You take the phone from Namjoon, “alpha.” Your keen is so breathy, you don’t know what tips Hobi off if it’s that or the breathlessness to your voice, the way you sound close to tears.

Leaving the den was a very very bad idea. Jimin falls silent on the other line, everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the phone explodes with the sound of arguing.

"I was right! I told you she was in heat hyung's- I told you so!"

"Jungkook, now is so not the time-"

"Ow!"

There's the sound of squabbling, someone pushing at someone else maybe. something hits the phone and it makes a muffled crackling sound. "Jinnie- no biting- hey- no- guys."

You and Namjoon look at the phone, and everyone is silent for a second before you lean over it. "Daddy?"

the sounds of a tussle cut off. “Pup” Jin sounds so sad over the line, not at all like he just bit someone. “Can you come home? I think I’m gonna go crazy if you’re not-”

“Yeah, Namjoon’s already packing.”

“Thank god,” Jin sounds close to tears, you’re dizzy, but not so dizzy and out of it that you don't grasp the gravity of the situation. not so dizzy that you can’t do what you need to. Jin sounds so so sad.

"I didn’t want it to be this way, I wanted your first heat with us to be just you- so I could take care of you, but it doesn't look like it's going to turn out that way.”

“Can you make me a nest Jinnie? A heat nest? I can’t, I don’t know how.”

“Yes.” Jin says, voice going husky. “Gonna make you the best heat nest, gonna be so cozy. Gonna be perfect.” He promises, and you smile. He’s already feeling hazy, you can tell.

You’re feeling hazy too. Cheek falling against the bed, trying to nuzzle into the phone. “Can’t wait, wanna nest with you-”  

“Shit.” “Jin don’t fall over- here-” you hear a thump, like someone’s guiding him to a chair.

Namjoon takes control of the situation. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”

“No- don’t text and drive.”

“Love you, bye, see you in a bit.” Namjoon hangs up and heaves the suitcase up onto the bed to finish packing. You start to move, but he shoots you a look. “Stay here, I’ll carry you.”

“Joonie it’s just pre-heat, I can still walk-”

Namjoon shoves your clothes, your bikini, into the confines of the suitcase. Red strings tangle in his fingers. “Don’t care.”

“But-” Namjoon darts forward, looming over you and you have to fight the urge to tilt your head to the side and show your neck. Holding you by the chin a little roughly. It has the desired effect.

Your instincts preen, alpha's so good. Alpha's so strong, knows just how to handle you. Your heartbeat quickens, and Namjoon glowers. “I think if I don’t get you home right now, and back to the den I might go-” Namjoon hesitates, and you see it, how he trembles. How he gently guides you to sit back on the bed. And you recognize the stress in his voice.

An alpha and an omega outside of their den during a heat is a scary thing. Namjoon's instincts are so close to the surface. You hope you don't see anyone on your way out. If anyone looked at you too long you don't know what Namjoon might do. 

Namjoon will not go feral at the idea of his omega suffering through a heat outside of the Den. Namjoon will not go crazy. He will drive you back to the house at an appropriate speed, and you won’t go into heat on the way home because realistically you have at least another 24 hours before either of your heats hit fully.

Most pre-heats last anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, Jin’s are always a little longer because he's older.

Yours? He’s not so sure about.

Your eyelashes flutter and your scent spikes. He strokes reassuringly down your scent gland and you pant, you feel it all the way at the tips of your fingers, trembling. It's so good having Namjoon touch you there. You clench your thighs and whine as he pulls away. And you know that's as much as he can give you right now. To settle your instincts for the drive and to settle himself too.

This is the moment the pack has been waiting for. The moment they’ve carefully coached you towards with every meal and every bit of encouragement. In many ways- each courting gift was meant for this moment. Every blanket and pillow, every stuffed animal and matching pajama set was all for this; the moment you’d need every soft thing, every strong alpha you have at your fingertips.

They won’t fail you now. Namjoon won’t fail either of you.

“How long was your last pre-heat last pup?”

You blink, thinking back while he stoops to put on your socks, you are a little cold you realize, your body reallocating heat to your internal organs, leaving your extremities chilly and trembling. Contrary to popular belief- heats don’t always mean fever. Sometimes they mean you get so cold that you need other bodies to keep you warm.

You’re at that stage now, no wonder why the water earlier made you sleepy- complete and total warmth is what you need right now- what your body craves is a nest and your packmates. You can’t regulate your temperature on your own- you need the others to do it for you.

“It wasn’t quick, like- maybe 30 hours, granted I didn’t really realize I was going into heat so I’m not sure, I don’t-” Somehow, you don’t think this one will give you quite so much time to adjust. Namjoon soothes you with a finger running down the back of your neck, he won’t scruff you unless you need him to- worried that it will send you prematurely hurtling into heat.

They need to be careful- Namjoon needs to be careful. This is your first heat in a long long time and your body might behave unpredictably. They need to be careful not to bring it on too strong.

You need people who won't trigger you too quick, you need Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi.

You think it might come quick, with how intense all of this is feeling. Every step Namjoon takes away makes you anxious. Excites that prey part animal of you that knows you’ll be vulnerable for the next few days- probably the whole week.

Namjoon locks the door while he puts the suitcase in the car and then comes back for you. Taking no chances. “Namjoon,” you say, when he comes back into the hotel room. You gesture to the mess on the floor between your feet. The box of takeout that he upended on his race to get to you when you collapsed.

“What are we gonna do about the mess?"

~-~

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Notes:

this chapter ended up alot more sexual than i planned for it too. i know i promised fluff but- it is really sexual in nature and i'm only realizing that now.

i realize that in my head the actuall toilet part of the bathroom upstairs was in a seperate little room like- almost a half bath inside the bath? but i can change it just for this part because it's like- bily is my sandbox and i can play in it <3

i don't know why sertian parts of the omega x omega dynamic really really apeals to me like- almost more than the alpha x omega parts do sometimes.

its really soft and just a tiny easter egg- but when hobi talks about planting the magnolia tree- i need everyone to know that namjoon and jin's first daughter ends up being namged magnolia- or maggie for short, and she's a little carbon copy of namjoon and a total tom boy and ands up climbing it like, basically every day, it's like her chill spot <3

if we're getting down into the nitty gritty of what had happened in the hot tub scene between tae and hobi and the m/c i think hobi had been really really curious about the m/c's addictive slick but obviously- he's triggered by giving women oral sex from moonbyul so he's like- obviously nervous and doesn't want to like- actually have the m/c ride his face, tae tae knows this and probably spent all of that, scene feeding hobi little drops of the m/c's slick from her fingers, had probably made the m/c sit on the edge of the hot tub and bend back to show hobi how wet she gets and nose and nuzzle at her hole over her bathing suit before pulling it to the side and showing him that her pussy is so cute it's hardly scary. obviously hobi does not eat the m/c out but maybe tae can't resist.

i know there are alot of flash back's and little scenes in between the scene that's actually happening- i wonder if this is the way i should write them? do you guys like the part where they're talking about the free use? yoongi's flue? or should i have edited those parts out?

where it not for the m/cs heat- i think it would have taken yoongi and her until the following fall to be intimate again. it would have happened one day when she came in from her classes all cold and damp from october (is that a spoiler?) and he'd crumple and give it to her slow and warm.

tae and the m/c's scene in the bedroom was supposed to be alot more breif but i made it longer because i love mommy tae and i missed her<3

tae kissing over her panties is so???? feral and horny of her??? when will that be meeeee on both sides of it honestly? can you imagine having a cute little girlfriend that lets you dress them up???? the fantasy of having someone who wants you so much they just cuddle into you all the time??? tae is one lucky girl 😭

i worry that this chapter is going to be like the others where i delve too far into each little thing and the bigger picture of it all is lost by the end of it but! maybe i don't care- i want mommy tae so bad :(

i really really love that tae calls the rest of the pack "our boys" because really- they are tae and the m/c's boys like- thats so soft for her to call them that. how much do you think jimin would blush to be called "my little boyfriend" by tae??? i think he'd short circuit.

listen, i know that canonically bily takes place in boston but i just couldn't resist with the onsen- i know nothing like this exists on the east coast but still <3 i wanted to write it so i made it my own.

i really like how you kind of get a taste for the dynamic of everyone at home without namjoon and the m/c- like the moment when they're talking about what kind of cat they'd be if they where a cat is so cute and packy <3 i wish i had a pack like that.

broody jinnie broody jinnie brooody jinnie <3 i love love love describing him as a broody hen, because if you'd ever been around a broody hen you know they are so sweet! but protective!!! and fluffy! we have a hen thats broody right now and her name is wonton.

The m/c having cramps as apart of her pre-heat symptoms is because i was also having cramps while i was writing this part. as was the american chineese food part! cuz i was craving it <3

namjoon deserves some major kudos for this chapter because tell me why that boy suffers

I'm Yoongi's bitch so I can have one “What was supposed to be a one night stand with a member turned out to be more when he couldn’t let go” with him?

Where You Belong

Pairing: CEO!Min Yoongi x Secretary!Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Light Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I too am Yoongi’s bitch. Also I wrote this while I had six glasses of whiskey if there’s error, pls do forgive sksks. I hope you enjoy this! <3

3000 celebration

“Fucking finally,” Min Yoongi growled as he thrusted his hard member into you. The loud sound of flesh slapping against each other was loud in his bedroom. He had always thought it would be good with you, but fuck if he expected it to be this fucking good.

You were like a custom made for him, like one of those bespoke suits he was always fond of. The moment you entered in his office four years ago, he had felt the growing attraction he had tried to squash to no avail. Min Yoongi had tried so many things, but you were engraved in his skin…so deep that he knew removing you would be fatal to him.

You were his trusty secretary, someone he could really leaned on. But you were more than that. You proved to be more than that. You were his friend, his confidant, someone who took care of him when he overworked himself which he tended to do a lot.

You were his.

Simply his.

Yet the moment you casually mentioned that some other firm reached out to you to recruit you, he lost it.

Yoongi really thought he could rein his intrusive emotions, but he was proven wrong.

It was late at night when the two of you reached the hotel. You were in another city after finishing closing a partnership when you quietly brought it up to your cold boss. You wanted to slowly integrate him to the thought of you leaving, knowing full well that he didn’t do well with sudden changes.

Not when it came to you.

Never when it came to you.

You had developed feelings for him two years ago, and you knew it wasn’t healthy for you to stay. It wasn’t good for you to wait for him, not when he proved time after time that you were just a secretary to him. Not when he looked at you as though he never saw you for who you were.

You needed to move on from this stupid crush.

Having just finish debriefing with him, you thought that now was a good time to tell him your intentions slowly.

Yoongi closed his laptop, the workaholic in him finally feeling at ease now that the contract was done, and it was all because of your hard work. He looked at you with his dark eyes, admiring your strength and professionalism- yet he knew he couldn’t cross the line…unless you did first.

“Let’s go to the museum you want to visit tomorrow-“

“Enhypen company reached out to me,” you cut him off, your voice strong despite feeling the exact opposite. You almost wanted to take the words back when you saw his face lost all its emotions. You were now facing the Yoongi that people feared.

“Excuse me?”

“T-they want to interview me next week-“

Yoongi chuckled lowly before slowly placing his laptop on the coffee table. He loosened his tie, his movements precise even as his eyes were on you. “And what did you say, kitten? I hope you put them down gently…”

You gulped as he stared at you as though he could see through your soul, as though he knew the secrets you kept.

As though he knew you were in love with him long before you admitted it to yourself. And it was because of that that you knew you had to leave this stupid crush behind and move on with your life. “I told them…” you trailed off when you saw him tilted his head, his dark eyebrow raised as he waited for you to continue with nonchalance in his movements. He leaned in, his elbows resting on his knees as he waited for you to decide on his face.

“Yes, kitten? You told them no, right? That’s good. No one deserves you as much as I-“

“I told them I’ll go next week.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room. The silence was suffocating, his glare was like vines keeping you in place. It took forever before he scoffed. He couldn’t believe you were considering leaving him.

“No.”

You blinked owlishly at the man sitting in front of you. “No?”

“You heard me,” he postulated as though it was a done deal. “You’re not going to that fucking interview. You’re not going to leave. You’re going to stay by my side.”

Your could feel your heart beat faster as though it was warning you of the danger that was slowly standing and sauntering to you.

And when he was close enough, he leaned in to whisper, “No one can have you but me.”

You cried in pleasure as Yoongi drew another orgasm from you. He was relentless when he heard you would leave him, became unhinged with the thought of never seeing you again.

He couldn’t have that, could he?

Yet, the moment he fell asleep, you knew you had to leave. You couldn’t survive when morning came and he looked at you with indifference once again.

Or when he would tell you it was a mistake.

You just couldn’t.

And so you left his embrace that felt like home.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked in barely contained anger as he looked at your direct subordinate. It was nine o’clock and yet, you were nowhere to be seen. You were usually here by seven in the morning. When he woke up without you, he lost it. The hotel room was the telltale sign of him losing his ever loving composure. It took you running to crumble his nonchalant facade.

“S-she resigned, sir-“

“You’re fired.”

But the letter neatly placed on his desk was notice enough of you leaving the company, of you leaving him.

As if you could.

He would make sure there was no place on earth you could hide from him.

“Are you insane?” You seethed as you saw him. He was calmly sat down, his evil lawyer looking at you with soulless eyes. “Fifty million just because I left?”

Min Yoongi shrugged, his eyes looked bored. But he was anything but bored. He felt alive now that he could finally see you.

It took tons of lawsuit before you agreed to meet with him.

“You breached the contract.”

“It specifically said that I can leave whenever I want!”

“Tsk tsk,” Yoongi shook his head in faux sadness before smirking at you. “You should have read the contract carefully, my kitten. It says here you can’t leave me. Ever.”

You slammed your hands on the desk, your anger getting the best of you. Couldn’t you just moved on in peace?!

“I know what I signed! This isn’t it!”

“Then prove it.”

But how could you when he had all the resources in the world to make you stay? He knew it. You knew it. That smug smirk of his was a sign he knew he had you cornered.

Kitten, you really should have known you couldn’t leave. Not when he finally understood what he felt for you, not now. Not ever.

At your defeated expression, he softened his expression and reached out his long, veiny hand to clasp yours. “Or come back to me. This is the only way, kitten.”

Come back, and he swore that he would always make you happy.

That he would be the best husband for you.

That you would never, ever want to leave him.

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Hyung line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Attempt at ending one’s life, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: why on earth is this 5kish long? This part is darker than the maknae line (for me at least) precisely for the reason that hyung line would plan before springing into action which makes them more…dangerous. I hope you enjoy this! And for real, read the warnings okay.

Namjoon

You blinked in surprise when you entered the house. You thought it was a nightmare came to life when you saw Namjoon sitting there with your mom. The two of them were chatting and laughing, hot cup of tea on the table.

It was Namjoon who first saw you, his eyes flashing a certain heat before he smiled at you sweetly. “Flower, you’re here!”

You frowned at him before turning to look at your mother who was smiling fondly at the two of you. “He said he wanted to surprise you. Your fiancé is so sweet, darling. Despite his busy schedule, he had it in him to go to our province. What a sweet man,” she cooed at him before tapping his hand.

Fiancé?

“Of course. I wanted to see how my future mother-in-law is doing,” he replied with the sweetest smile on his face that even you were almost fooled. “I worry about your health.”

Your mother laughed sheepishly, “Namjoon, son, you can call me mom. There’s no need for formality.”

“Okay, mom.”

What. The. Fuck?

Your mother excused herself, saying something about making dinner seeing as Namjoon would be staying.

Once she was out of earshot, you marched to him and pulled him outside the house. And he was all too willing to be pulled by you. After all, it had been three months since you started ghosting him after he pleasured you in the studio. It was heartbreaking, really. He woke up without you and hadn’t seen you since then.

He lose it the moment he found out you left.

You were just too intelligent about evading him. He hated that.

Consequently, your intelligence was what also attracted him to you.

He was smiling down at you as you faced him. You looked behind him to see if your mother was anywhere near before completely laying it out on him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed, dropping his thick wrist. It was already dark and the only light was from the house and the street light situated outside. At your smaller form, his shadow was tauntingly touching you. He was so tall that you had to tilt your head to meet his intense stare full on. “And what do you mean fiancé?! You know what, I heard intelligent people tend to lose it but I never thought you would! And who said you can visit my mom, Kim Namjoon?! I need you to leave. You know she’s not well and any additional stress would be detrimental for her!”

You were breathing hard when you stopped berating him. Yet, he remained smiling at you, his dimpled cheeks would be considered charming if not for the fucked up thing that he did to you.

“I miss you,” he admitted softly, his eyes taking you in. God, he did miss you. It had been hell without you. You weren’t completely wrong, he did lose it. And he only managed to get his sanity back when he saw you. “Let’s not separate from each other this long again, my flower.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t miss you-“

“Don’t say things you don’t mean…you’re not a liar,” he teased as he shook his head a little. “And besides, do you have it in you to tell your mother the truth? Hmm? At her state, are you willing to break her heart?” He taunted you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “After all, isn’t it her wish to see her only child happy and married?”

Your eyes widened at his implication, at how he carelessly talked about your mother’s health. There were so many truths in what Namjoon said. He had you backed in the corner, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. “You need to lea-“

“Dinner’s ready!” Your mother shouted, her face relaxed, a rare sight since she started her treatment. It left you no choice but to nod at her assuringly before turning to look at you ex-boyfriend.

“You’re going to excuse yourself. You’re going to say you have a work emergency. You’re going to leave tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

His dark eyes twinkled with delight. “Yes, ma’am.”

You did make yourself clear, but you should have known he was a stubborn man. You were the one for him, and if that was the case, shouldn’t he fight with all his might to stay with you?

“I’m so full. Thank you for the meal,” he said politely, rubbing his stomach with a smile.

“You must have been so tired, Namjoon. Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

“Mom!” You called her in disbelief, your eyes widened at what she suggested.

“What?”

“W-we have no more room. I’m sure he’s needed back in Seoul.”

“No, I’m not. And you’re right, mother. I’m so weary I don’t think I can make it back safely to the city tonight.”

“See? You can sleep in her room.”

“Mom!” Wasn’t she the conservative type?

“It’s fine. He’s your fiancé. He’s practically family by now. If it was up to me, you two would be married by now.”

You were full on glaring at him as he entered your room after your mom bid the two of you good night. Namjoon smiled sweetly at you before putting his bag down. Wasn’t he too ready to stay here with that huge bag of his?

He looked around your small room, his huge frame making your bedroom looked even smaller.

“I thought I told you to leave?”

He nodded before standing in front of you, “Yes, you did.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember agreeing,” he murmured, gently sauntering to you similar to that of a hunter. His deep voice was making you feel things you didn’t want to feel, his proximity weakening your resolve.

You pushed his muscular chest non too gently. “I’m not playing this game with you, Namjoon. If you have any respect for me, you would leave me alone.”

He chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes gazing into yours. And before you knew it, you couldn’t stepped back anymore, your back completely against the wall. He lost all playfulness in his face, his hands on either side of you. “Who says I’m playing, flower?” He murmured, his face slowly leaning down to your neck. You felt him inhale your scent, the hair of your neck standing up. Perhaps, it recognized the danger you were in. You dared not move, waiting for the large man to do something. “And it’s because I respect us that I know we deserve another chance. I’m fighting for us, flower…regardless if I’m fighting alone.” Or fighting even you.

Seokjin

You scoffed at another bouquet of flowers delivered at your temporary apartment. Beside the flowers was a velvet box containing a gold necklace with a diamond pendant. The letter you were holding in your hand read that he missed you. It was the same thing everyday. You thought he was just wasting his time. You thought he would stop after a month. But it was almost three months and yet, the gifts kept coming. It was getting more ridiculous and more expensive as the days went by. At your anger, you threw his gifts one day. But then the morning came and he sent you a message that sent shivers down your spine.

‘Don’t throw away my gifts, sweetheart. You know it hurts me.’

But how did he know?

You weren’t even surprised that Seokjin was able to trace you, not when he had too much resources in his hands. You should have known the extent of his power. He never liked to wield his family’s power. Your Seokjin before was the most humble man you ever met, never boasting about their inherent wealth and position in the world. Yet, this Seokjin didn’t hesitate to use it when it came to you.

Apparently, you were his breaking point.

To be honest, you were terrified of him now. You felt like you were threading a thin line, and one of these days he would snapped.

You didn’t want to know what would happen then.

And so it felt like a blessing in disguise when you started working in a new company, only to find out that one of your closed professor was affiliated there as well. Now, you were offered to work a big project abroad. You didn’t even hesitate. You agreed and now it was only a week before you leave the country for a year.

You needed the space to think and heal yourself. The moment you left him was the moment you started focusing on yourself, giving your all to your career. After all, it was all you had left of you. You were no longer crying every night. You knew you were healing slowly.

As opposed to what your friends wanted you to do, you didn’t want to go out and date yet. You wanted to focus on yourself and be the best version of yourself. But his constant presence despite his absence was halting your progress. How could you move on completely if he kept reminding you that he was just there patiently waiting?

Perhaps, your own breaking point was when you received yet another gift from him. Only this time, it was a small, velvet box. Inside sat a ring with a huge diamond that almost blinded you from how it reflected back the light, as though it was taunting you. You knew what it was. You didn’t need to read the card he carefully wrote on to know what it was, ‘Sweetheart, let’s get married in June.’

At your unrestrained anger, you messaged him without thinking about where he was. In an instant, he replied that you should meet him at his restaurant, the one he secretly bought and showed you before in excitement. It was his first child, he said, something that was only his without the public knowing. You were there when it was merely starting, doing the hard work with him, dreaming with him, helping him.

Perhaps, that was why you were reluctant to go there. But you knew this had to stop. If you wanted to start anew with nothing and no one holding you back, you needed to speak to the man who broke you.

You parked your car in front of a dimly lit restaurant. With a pinched brows, you warily looked around. The place was usually full of people. Customers needed to book a table for a month before they could be catered.

So why then was it empty?

You would have turned around if not for the warm lights swarming a small area of place. You were surprised to see the door open. You were doubtful about his whereabouts, almost certain that he was messing with you if not for the message he sent that he was already there. The sound of your footsteps were deafening to you as you ventured further. You turned a corner and saw his seated form. He was looking at the floor to ceiling window, your personal touch. His eyes were focused on the scenic view outside as though he was deep in thought. With his legs spread apart and his hands resting leisurely on the table, Kim Seokjin looked as breathtaking as the day you met him.

You thought he looked even more handsome now. Of course, why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if it was him who lost sleep over a broken heart.

With a deep breath, you walked to him with a purpose. You shouldn’t feel self-conscious, but you did. His head turned to you slowly, his eyes taking you in. You didn’t even prepare for this. You were wearing your casual clothes, your hair in a tie and you weren’t even wearing an ounce of makeup. Yet he looked like that. He was wearing a white long sleeves, the one you bought him before. His hair was brushed away from his forehead. Kim Seokjin looked expensive.

You may looked however you liked and he would still think that you were the most precious person in the whole world. He still looked at you like you were the moon itself.

His lips tilted up when he met your eyes, “Sweetheart, you looked good-“

You marched to him and drank the glass of wine in front of him to completion. You needed the liquid courage to face him. He was watching you with raised brows, before signaling for the waiter to bring out the food and another glass.

“I ordered all your favorite food, sweetheart. Come on, take a seat-“

“Jin,” you called him with a gritted teeth. You slammed your hand on the table, leaning in to look at his eyes, willing him to see how serious you were. “You need to stop.”

He blinked, before tilting his head to the side. He leaned in closer to you, “Stop what, sweetheart?” He whispered with a tone of confusion.

“Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop.”

“Oh, you meant the gifts?” He asked in a thoughtful voice. You were appalled with the way he was acting. Was he really this delusional to think that what he was doing was in any way normal?

You took the offensive velvet box from your bag and placed it in front of him. He so slowly looked from your eyes down to the box you placed in front of him. “Didn’t you like the ring?”

Suddenly, you felt like you lost all strength just from dealing with him. You sat down in front of him, willing the heavens to give you the patience you didn’t possess at the moment.

“Why on earth would you give me an engagement ring, Seokjin?”

“Hmm, but aren’t we dating to marry?” He asked, flashing you his sweet smile. Yet, his eyes remained empty. “Isn’t that the goal, sweetheart?”

“It was the goal before you broke my heart.”

He reached across the table, and you were too slow to evade his touch. He held your hands in his larger ones, his face contorting into regret and sadness, “And I said sorry…numerous times, sweetheart. Until when are you going to punish us over an oversight? Over something that I would atone for the rest of my life? Until when are you going to be away from me?” His eyes glistened with tears, his voice sincere- so sincere that you were almost swayed.

But apologies meant nothing when you were still shattered on the ground.

You shook your head slowly, meeting his eyes with you determined ones. “I know you are sorry, Jin. And I am, too. But it doesn’t change the fact that we broke up.”

“Sweetheart, no-“

“You need to stop,” you squeezed his hand before he could even say anymore. You needed to finish this, you needed to close this chapter of your life. “No matter what you do, I’m not coming back anymore. I’m leaving Korea. I need to move on,” you whispered, looking at the eyes of the man you once loved more than yourself. You offered him a sad smile for all the things you two went through, for all the happy memories and love that had nowhere else to go anymore. You smiled for the life you had with him, and now you were turning your back on it. “And you need to move on, too.”

You left him sitting there, alone with his head bowed down.

You felt lighter than you did in the past few months. You felt like you could breathe now. With an unhurried movement, you walked to your car and opened the door when a large hand suddenly pushed the door shut again. Heart beating faster, you turned around only to find Jin towering over you. He was breathing hard, his eyes burned with something you couldn’t name. He had yet to turn to you, his body so close to you that you could feel heat emitting from him.

“J-Jin-“

He shook his head, strands of his dark hair falling on his forehead. “You’re not leaving Korea,” he stated, his brows furrowed. His jaw was clenched when he finally looked at you. “You’re not leaving me.”

Yoongi

“Honey, he’s here..again,” your friend warned you knowingly before walking past you to her cubicle. You looked heavenward and groaned. If Yoongi thought bombarding you with his presence would do him any good, he couldn’t be anymore wrong. It had been a full month since he started showing up wherever you were, uncaring if anyone recognized him. No matter where you ran, he would show up with a sad look on his face as though you kicked his dog. As though it was him who was hurt and not you.

The moment you stepped out of the building, Yoongi smiled at you. He was sporting an undercut- a thing you noticed despite him wearing a cap. It was for another of the group’s music video, another concept that the fans were anticipating. He walked near to you, his hand reaching for your bag when you evaded his touch. He frowned when you did, sadness clouding his features. “How was your day, kitten?”

You glared at him, the words of your officemates still fresh in your mind. They thought you didn’t hear them, but you did. His actions were making them think that he was the one to be pitied when it was you that he broke. It was you who cried herself to sleep for so long that you thought you were going to die from sadness.

“I know. It’s such a bitch thing to do.”

“Right? Who does she think she is?”

“That poor guy.”

Was it your fault that this was how you wanted to move on?

Was it your fault you wanted nothing more to do with him?

“Until when are you going to do this?”

He blinked slowly, his face showing all the seriousness he had. “Until you come back to me.”

“I’m not. I’m never going to come back to a cheater,” you said with a smile on your face before walking away from him.

“Maybe you should date again?”

“What?” You sputtered out, shifting your focus from your laptop to your friend who was standing beside you, leaning against the stack of paper you had in your office table.

“Well, Yoongi wouldn’t stop, right?”

“Right…”

“What if he see you out with someone else? Then maybe he’d accept that the two of you are finally done.”

You thought long and hard about what she said, and maybe…just maybe this would work. You chose to ignore the warning thump of your heart, the one that knew how possessive he was, the one that knew how he reacted before when you interacted with other men.

You found yourself thoroughly enjoying someone else’s company. It was the first date, yet he managed to intrigue you. His quick wit, sense of humor, and gentlemanly ways softened your heart. You were still smiling when you entered your apartment late at night. In your arms was the beautiful bouquet of flowers he got you. You turned on the light and walked to your home when you saw him.

You screamed when you saw Min Yoongi sitting on your sofa, his eyes staring at nothingness. He looked…dangerous, as though he was one wrong move away from losing it. Slowly, so slowly, he looked at you and then at the flowers you were holding.

You wanted to hide it from his vicious eyes. You wanted to hide it as though you did something wrong. But you didn’t…right?

“What the fuck are you doing here?! This is trespassing!”

He chuckled humorlessly before tilting his head to the side, “How was your date, kitten?”

You stepped back without a thought when he stood up. “Y-you need to leave,” your voice trembled, your eyes widened and your breaths were shallowed. Yoongi looked…unstable.

“Are we equal now, kitten?” He murmured, his legs carrying him closer to you. He looked really curious, “I broke your trust, so your broke my heart.”

“It’s not the same-“

“Does that mean all is fair now?” His low voice scared you now that he was nearer. His dark eyes taking you in. “Will you take me back now?”

“I didn’t cheat on you. You did. We are done. How does that count as cheating?”

“I’m getting impatient, kitten,” he confessed, looking down at his feet. He poked his tongue in his cheek, before slowly looking up at you. “I need you back or else…I think I’m really going to lose it…”

You tried to push his body away from you, eager to create distance between the two of you. But his body remained grounded in front of you. “You need to leave-“

“You’re going to love me again,” he stated, so certain that you would. His dark eyes bore into yours. You were so distracted and intimidated with his proximity that you failed to notice the syringe he was holding. And before you knew it, a stinging pain could be felt in your neck.

And then you lost consciousness. But you need not worry, kitten. He was there to catch you.

“It’s done,” he said as soon as Hoseok picked up the phone. “Meet us in front.”

Hoseok

You frowned as you looked down at your ringing phone. Your ex’s sister had been endlessly attempting to contact you, yet you didn’t bother to read any of her messages. You only messaged her once to inform her that her brother and you were done, and you thanked her profusely on the kindness she showed on you. After all, she was almost like a family to you. Perhaps, that was why his betrayal hurt more. He wasn’t the only one out of your life, but for your peace of mind and healing, his family as well.

It had been more than two months since you escaped from him with the help of Namjoon. It had been that long since you blocked every communication you had with him.

His betrayal still burned, but you were in the path of healing.

In fact, your friend convinced you to go out and try again. She said you didn’t have to take the dates seriously, that you could just dipped your toes into the water again. You were in a relationship for so long that she wanted you to see what was out there. And so, you were trying.

You realized there was so much out there than what you originally thought.

Your phone rang once again when you got off work. Your finger hovered over the screen, and something told you that you should answer her. You brought your phone to your ear, your voice small as your greeted her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you finally answered!” Her voice was oozing with worry, and if you could see her now you would pity the kind woman.

“W-why? Are you okay?”

“It’s about Hoseok-“

You were shaking your head before she could even finish, “I don’t want to know anything about him anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know, I’m so sorry what he did was so wrong that I haven’t been speaking to him. I am on your side, Y/N. Completely. B-but…he’s my brother, too. I’m not asking you to take him back. I just… I just don’t know what to do. He needs help, Y/N,” she hurriedly stated, scared that you wouldn’t hear her out. She knew what she was going to ask of you was too much, but her love for her brother outweighed the shame.

You were quiet for so long that she thought you dropped the call. You were thinking hard about what she was saying. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t even want to care.

“What are you asking from me?”

“Just go to him. Just once. J-just convince him to seek help. Please. My mother and I no longer know what to do.”

You found yourself waiting outside the apartment you once shared with him, your eyes focused on your shoes as you waited for Hoseok’s sister to open the door. You didn’t want to presume that the code didn’t change. You didn’t even want to try, you didn’t want to know.

“You’re here,” her worried voice woke you up from your reverie. She wrapped her arms around you gently like an old friend would before stepping away and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “I’m really sorry for what happened. And I’m so sorry for dragging you back into this mess.”

You couldn’t even say it was fine because it wasn’t. Instead, you squeezed her hands and offered her an understanding smile. She lead you to what was once your room, pausing outside the door. She hesitated before looking at you.

“H-he’s not the most stable lately. Ever since Jimin saw you out with someone else, he has been like this…”

“Jimin told him that?” You asked in disbelief, racking your brain on the past few dates you went to, all of which were harmless. When did Jimin see you?

She sighed before shaking her head, “He really shouldn’t have told him that. He knew how…intense Hoseok is when it comes to you. You’ll see.”

She knocked lightly on the closed door before opening it. The room was dark and cold, extremely opposite to how it was when you lived there. The only light that seeped through was now from the hallway. You could barely see a man’s form lying down on the bed, his back facing the door.

“Hoseok, you have a visitor,” she called him tenderly, opening the door further so you could step in. Yet, you didn’t. You didn’t know if you should.

“Send them away,” he answered in the coldest and lowest voice you had ever heard from him. He didn’t even lift his head, didn’t even want to acknowledge whoever it was.

“Hoseok, maybe you should-“

“I said I don’t want to talk to anyone! I want to be alone! I deserve to be alone-“ he suddenly screamed, turning his head to your direction. The vein in his neck was protruding from the force of his emotions. And the way he suddenly lost all his anger, the way his face mellowed down from fury to disbelief shocked you.

Suddenly, he had the strength when it had been months since he felt like he lost all his firmness. He stood up and ran to you, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you with wander in his eyes. His lips were trembling, his eyes looked desperate and borderline crazed as he finally saw the love of his life standing in front of him after you evaded him for months. It had been so long since he broke your heart and you in turn shattered his very being.

Didn’t you know he wouldn’t survive without you?

Didn’t you know he’d rather perished than live in his world without you by his side?

His tears were falling from his eyes, drenching your hands that were trying to push his hand aside. “Angel,” he called for you sweetly, his trembling as he gazed into your eyes. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, my angel. I’ve busied myself buying you everything that you deserve. Our closet is full of things I know you’d like. Would you like to take a look?”

Your eyes widened the more he opened his mouth, the more you listened to his words that made no sense. You turned to look at his sister who was looking at you with worry. This was what she meant. Her brother did nothing but to fill his days with the thoughts of you, and yet he failed to take care of himself.

It didn’t get past your notice that he looked tired, that he looked as though he hadn’t been paying attention to himself. It was so opposite to what you knew of him. Hoseok was particular with the way he presented himself. He was disciplined in himself. But the man holding you right now was anything but the well-made man you knew.

Hoseok looked thinner.

“I-I’m not here to come back to you,” you said in a wary voice, pushing him away but this time, you were successful. You tried to be as gentle as possible. After all, before the worst, he was the best. Before he broke you, he completed you. You were gentle to the version of Hoseok who loved you with all his heart, not the one who cheated on you.

He looked confused and saddened by your actions, his head tilted to the side.

“No. No! You’re here because you forgive me, right?” He insisted, his form kept on coming near you despite you evading his touches. “You’re here because those boys can’t love you the way I do, right?!”

“Hoseok,” your voice trembled, your eyes shining with tears by just seeing his current state. You understood now why his sister was worried; Hoseok was on edge of the cliff.

He suddenly stopped, his arms falling lifelessly to his side. His head was bowed down, his dark hair obstructing his face.

“I hurt you,” he concluded sadly. The tall man in front of you looked like a lost child, like he had lost all the hope in the world and had already given up. “I hurt you. And I should just die.”

What?

You hadn’t even processed what he said when he walked briskly to the kitchen, his strides purposeful. You and his sister ran after him, and you were almost too late. He had opened a bottle of pills and poured the contents in his open palm. He was about to put them inside his mouth when you hugged him so tight that he accidentally let go of them. They clattered on the floor around his feet.

You were openly crying now, your shoulders shaking. Your unstoppable tears drenched his shirt- and it was enough to snap him from whatever he was doing. He turned around, his brows pinched together as he looked at your unconsolable form.

“W-why are you crying, my angel?” Hoseok asked, tilting you chin to meet his empty eyes. “You don’t want me gone?”

You shook your head, pained that he was even capable of doing what he was about to do. “N-no. Please-“

“You love me?” He asked, hope in his eyes. “You take me back, then?”

His sister was watching the two of you, and at your hesitation, she mouthed ‘please’.

And so you nodded, and Hoseok pulled you in his arms, never to let you go. You didn’t see the smirk he had in his face.

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2 sneakpeak, Part 2

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Let the darkness begin.

GIF by sugajimin

Part 1

Tuesday Night, Day 1

Kim Namjoon opened the door, his dimples on display as he welcomed you in the mansion for the second time that night as though he was already expecting you. He looked warm and comfortable, donning out simple white shirt and grey sweatpants instead of his usual formal clothes. A damp towel hanged on his broad shoulders; his hair still wet from the shower he obviously took.

“Welcome home, little one,” he greeted lowly, pulling your reluctant form in. If he felt the way you dug your heels on the ground, he didn’t mention. He was just elated that you were here now. He couldn’t explain the excruciating pain that went through his body almost more than an hour after he dropped you off. He was only able to manage it when Hoseok messaged him, letting him know that you would be coming home with him, and only then did he feel the pain subsided.

For the second time, you stepped foot in the grandiose place of theirs. It was a strange juxtaposition, your cautious movements against Namjoon's determined pull. Funnily, you thought it was similar to the depiction of Lucifer dragging Persephone down to hell. Walking behind you was the intimidating man, Jung Hoseok. He was carrying your bags in his hand in a relaxed manner, opposite to how he was before. The amount of clothes he personally packed were staggeringly ridiculous. It was like he packed your whole belongings with the intention for you to never set foot in your own apartment again. In his other hand was your traitor of a cat that was purring as the man carried him in his arms. It was like your cat left you for a better life.

"You must have been exhausted," Namjoon's voice broke through the quiet, drawing your attention to his warm smile. His concern softened the edges of your weariness. “The day is too long for any of us. You should get your rest.”

You eyed Hoseok, unsure of how to act when he offered you a reassuring smile. “We readied your room, little one," Hoseok's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his prior demeanor. Namjoon bade you good night, his large hand cupping your cheek tenderly before letting you go. With a beckoning gesture, Hoseok motioned for you to follow him, and you fell into step beside him, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders.

He opened the room to the far end of the right wing. Similar to the aesthetic of the house, the room was equally grandiose. The bed, positioned prominently in the center of the room, commanded attention with its regal presence. It was fit for a princess, you thought, with its lavish canopy and layers of plush bedding inviting you to sink into its embrace. Every detail spoke of luxury and refinement, from the gilded accents to the soft, muted colors that suffused the room with an air of tranquility.

Any other time you would have gushed over the beauty of this room, but not this time. And not with the stress that that love potion brought you! On top of that, you were in a strange place with your CEOs who were practically strangers up at this moment! It was more than understandable that you were acting wary of these two men. They were only two of the seven, and you were already displaced by them! What more if the remaining five were to face you now?

You looked over your lashes at the man who was putting your bags down in front of what looked like a huge walk-in closet, his face void of any negative emotions but the people pleaser and the anxious child in you made you voiced out what you were thinking.

“Are you mad at me?”

Your cat, on the other hand, was now roaming freely and inspecting his new home with a purr, uncaring of the stress that you were feeling. You knew that traitor had such an expensive taste that your cat would literally sell you for a piece of chicken. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of cat toys that were kept in the corner of the room, prompting you to think that this wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing.

Hoseok blinked owlishly as though you asked an utterly absurd question, one that would never happen. His brows furrowed before he offered you a reassuring smile. “What brought this on?”

You sighed dramatically before plopping down on a surprisingly soft and comfortable mattress. You were even unknowingly pouting, making him want to squish your adorable cheeks in between his hands and cooed down at you. “Well, because I may or may not have ruined your lives because of that drink. But in my defense, which I think is a very good and plausible one and it may actually stand in court, it was never my intention to make you ‘fall in love’ with me and that drink was only gifted to me! Don’t you think I should be given a less harsh punishment?”

“Punishment?” Hoseok repeated to himself, his head tilted to the side as he pondered the notion. Was living with them meant to be some sort of a punishment when this was a big house and you had seven men to cater to your every whim? They would literally give you the world should you asked. “No, honey. Listen, I’m not mad at you. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“I’m mad at you?” you asked with a hint of humor in your voice before flashing him a grin of your own. You were too adorable and funny, he gushed as he kneeled in front of you. Slowly as though gauging your reaction, he held your hands in between his, running his thumb in a soothing manner when you didn’t pull away. Hoseok couldn’t help but smile widely when he held you. It was such an exhilarating rush, he observed, one that he had never felt before.

In fact, it was an addicting feeling…one that he could not bear to lose.

“We’re not mad,” he began, his voice earnest as he looked up at you from his kneeled form on the carpeted floor. He never knelt for anyone, but for you, he would without any questions asked. “None of us are mad. This is merely a…unique conundrum. But we’ll figure it out. We always do. So don’t worry, okay?

We will take care of it.”

It was well after midnight when the five equally annoyed men strutted inside the mansion. Their faces were painted with discontent, their eyes carrying a certain weight of physical exhaustion and their movements that of strain from being physically away from you.

They were, in fact, practically gritting their teeth from the discomfort and pain.

Kim Seokjin was the first to stride into the room, the heavy oak double-doors slamming against their hinges so forcefully that even Namjoon grew concerned. He meant, for heaven’s sake, he had it custom-ordered from his favorite artist that specialized in wood carving! Anyway, it was a rare sight to see him display any negative emotion as he was always the brother that brought lightness to whatever tense situation he found them in. He was known for his penchant to be kidding around, cracking dad jokes left and right and his laughter was contagious. But those traits were nowhere to be found.

His voice was surprisingly deep as he directed his equally captivating eyes to their lead CEO with darkness even Jimin who was walking behind him found startling. “Don't forget, I'm the one who prepares your food, Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon blinked at that, his hold on his laptop loosening at his hyung’s words. “All is fair in love and war?” he supplemented sheepishly, his fingers lifting to flash him a peace sign to which his hyung merely rolled his eyes to before plopping down the huge sofa and closing his eyes, his long leg stretched out in front of him.

Next to display his displeasure was Park Jimin, the one that was the scariest when mad. “You should have just shipped us to Japan then I’d be able to at least buy my skincare products,” Jimin sassed as he rolled his eyes at the lead CEO. His nose was turned up high as he strutted in the room. Despite the long hours spent travelling, Namjoon could not see any evidence that any single blonde hair was out of place on Jimin’s. “I think I finally know what hatred feels like.”

Last to enter was Taehyung and Jungkook. In his own peculiar way, Taehyung was fake sobbing in Jungkook’s arms while the latter was pouting at Namjoon as he patted the back of the former. “I never thought I’d be betrayed by the person I look up the most!”

“Yah!” Seokjin suddenly opened his eyes in disbelief “You trust him the most when I spend all my money on your food from when you were 13 to now?!”

Jungkook merely nodded, his doe eyes seeing nothing wrong with what he said. Taehyung, on the other hand, suddenly stopped acting and stood up straight to face the occupants of the room. “How are we reduced to this: betraying each other?” his deep voice resounded over the room, holding a tone of certain seriousness. His dark eyes met theirs. “Aren’t we better than this? We are brothers. We are better than animals that kill each other in the wild to survive. We are civilized men who are in the top performers of the society, who are featured in every reputable magazine. We are men that are leaders of-”

“Weren’t you the first to betray us, hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asked, effectively cutting off his speech. His head was tilted to the side as he sat beside Seokjin who was actively pushing him away to no avail, grumbling about how he should sit beside the brother he trusted the most.

“That’s neither here nor there!” Taehyung’s volume increased from guilt, his eyes comically widening.

“How?! It’s literally here! And it’s still here!” Jimin shouted, further antagonizing his agemate to which Taehyung gladly took on. The screaming match went on, with Jin joining, whereas Jungkook chimed in every once in a while, clearly enjoying the ensuing chaos. Every now and then, though, he voiced out how much he missed you. Namjoon was massaging his forehead and quietly telling them to stop and to keep quiet because someone was sleeping. It was only Hoseok who was silently watching his brothers and doing a quiet headcount only to come up short.

“Guys? Aren’t we seven?” He broke his silence for the first time, effectively stopping the loud bickering of the brothers. “Where’s Yoongi?”

The loud bickering of his brothers faded as he slipped inside the mansion without them noticing. To be honest, he did not have the required energy to deal with them, much so when he could barely keep himself upright. He didn’t want to see that traitorous bastard, Kim Namjoon, for more than a second. They all had a piece to say but they were all morons, Yoongi thought. As he trudged up the last step of the stairs, he looked up and there was you.

Min Yoongi couldn’t believe his own eyes. He thought that it was his sanity breaking down from the physical pain he had been feeling since he parted from you, and decided to play cruel games with him in the form of you. But there was no way that you were actually here, right? There was no way you were standing in the hallway in your sleepwear…right?

On the other hand, you blinked and looked at Yoongi’s pale face. He looked like he was straining to hold himself upright, evidenced by his grip on the stair’s handrail. His hands were shaking and you were worried that any moment now, he would fall.

You were proven correct not even a second later.

You watched as his body swayed, his eyes closed and you were moving before you could even think of the repercussion. Without heeding to any of your friend’s warning about touching them, you stepped in just in time to steady his body. The momentum from his combined weight and the gravity made you stepped back as his head found its place on your shoulder. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad back to anchor him to you.

“Daepyonim Min,” you called for his attention, gauging his alertness while tapping your hand on his back with a sense of urgency. “Daepyonim Min, you need help. Let me call-”

“Little one,” you heard him breathed you in before speaking so slowly, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You’re real, aren’t you?” His hand slowly cupped your cheek, needing to feel you, needing to know if the object of his love was truly here. “How?”

“I’m here…but it’s a long story. First, we need help. You’re not okay!”

“You’re here,” he repeated to himself, his voice that of wonder. “I-I’m okay now,” he replied with so much warmth as he struggled to lift himself up to look at you. “I just need to sleep. It’s been a long ass day,” he groaned, the ache from his head was slowly dissipating from the proximity to you, yet its intensity since they landed was at its highest. He knew it would take him the whole night to recuperate. But somehow, he knew he could do it easily with you by his side. He didn’t even care why you were here, or even how you got here. What was important was you were now here where you belong- with them.

Against your better judgement and completely unaware of the thoughts running in his head, you nodded as you followed his directions to his room. Just like his personality that you knew him of, his room was no non-sense in a way that all things were functional. It was apparent that the man favored minimalism and comfort over luxury. It was clean and uncluttered, with just the essentials neatly arranged. The bed, large and inviting, dominated the room, adorned with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. A single nightstand stood beside it, holding a small lamp and a few books.

You helped him settle onto the bed, arranging the pillows behind him to support his weary body. He let out a contented sigh as he sank into the softness, his eyes closing momentarily in relief as the weariness slightly subdued.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. His eyes held sincerity and warmth. The way he was looking at you, the way he was holding on to your wrist because he didn’t want to let you go only served as reminders of your guilt. He wouldn’t be acting this way if this was normal circumstances.

Your negligence that day brought you here. And those emotions he was showing you were not real, you reminded yourself.

"You're welcome," you replied softly with utmost sincerity, a gentle yet sad smile playing on your lips. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

He had you now, why would he let you go?

It was his rationale as he pulled you to lie beside him, the surprisingly comfortable bed and his enescapable hold were enough to tire you out, you pushing him away did nothing. Despite your inner turmoil, you found yourself yielding to his pull, sinking onto the bed beside him. The warmth of his body radiated against yours, a stark contrast to the chill of your guilt-ridden thoughts.

And when he whispered for you to stay, you did.

It was barely an hour later when Yoongi was awakened by the annoying buzzing of his phone. He looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips at how your mouth was agape as you slumbered off in his arms. You were just so adorable that he wanted to put you in his pocket. He grinned at that thought. He already felt better.

You were the cure, he was sure.

However, the headache seemed to be returning from the persistent phone calls he was getting. He sighed, picking up his phone carefully to not wake you up only to find out it was a videocall from Taehyung.

“Hyung! Where are you?” his deep voice resounded over the quietness of the room. Yoongi, on the other hand, had to lower the volume immediately.

“Shut up,” he admonished him quietly, careful to not arose you from your sleep.

“Are you…sleeping?! When we’re all worried about you?!” the camera spanned out to Seokjin who was eating calmly, lacking any evidence of worry that Taehyung was claiming while Jungkook was running in the background, looking for Yoongi in every corner and even under the furniture. Meanwhile, Jimin was on his phone trying to rank up on his games.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s clear that you’re all worried about me,” he noted in a deadpanned voice, not believing any bullshit coming from Taehyung’s mouth.

Namjoon entered the frame casually, his eyes taking in his hyung’s rested form. He had an inkling of suspicion as to why. “You look well-rested, hyung,” he stated his observation, his complexion looked healthy in comparison to Taehyung’s. Yoongi raised his brow at that. His initial theory that the span of time spent without you was making them sick only got stronger because of Namjoon’s healthier look.

“Did you find our gift?” Hoseok asked from behind the two men, casually hanging his arms on their shoulders. He was smiling. But his eyes held a certain darkness they usually didn’t have.

“I did. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Wednesday, Day 2

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to effectively stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

Suffice to say, no one made it to the office today.

You were seated beside Taehyung on the sofa, his thighs plastered to yours as though any space was considered a sin. He had your hand tenderly imprisoned in his. On your other side was Jimin who had his head in the vee of your shoulders. You were their medicine, they were sure.

Meanwhile, you were anything but comfortable. You were never really a fan of skinship, always the one who was reserved and preferred physical distance when surrounded by people. And yes, you were aware that thousands, if not millions, would kill to be in your spot right now but that didn’t make you any more receptive to their proximity. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, not with the way they were watching you.

Especially not with the way Hoseok’s eyebrow raised whenever you even so much as attempted to move. His pointed gaze held you in place, a silent warning against any attempt to flee.

You were stiff. But you knew, and quite frankly you were starting to believe the effectivity and potency of that wretched potion. You already witnessed five of the seven men almost crumbled to the ground from the unbearable pain. There was no way that that was not connected to that potion.

 “When did the pain start, Taehyung-ah?” Seokjin asked as he flustered over the younger CEO. He was pouring hot tea for the two agemate, his innate mother instinct surfacing. Despite that, he couldn’t help but look at you with small smile on his lips. He was happy that you were here, truly happy for the first time in ages. It was like his heart calmed down, the darkness slowly vanishing from his mind now that you were in their vicinity. Now, he could just focus on taking care of you

“At around 6 pm…less than 12 hours after little one ran from me,” he finished with his signature pout, turning to you as though he was a puppy you kicked aside and was begging you to take it back. “I was so sad when you ran from me, little one.”

“You also ran from me,” Jimin added, his pouty lips protruding even more as he glared at you. “It deeply wounded me. I am still hurt over that, you know? I woke up so early just to see you.”  

“She also ran from me…” Jungkook's voice joined the chorus from his place on the floor with his back leaning on your knees, adding his own layer of disappointment.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Namjoon asked the peculiar man in concern, his worry lessening as Taehyung started to gain back his colors.

“Because! Hyung looked sicker than me!” Taehyung response was quick while pointing at Yoongi who was looking at them stoically. He looked bored, except when he turned to look at you and then all of a sudden, he was shooting sweet smile at your direction, his fingers forming heart sign. You blinked owlishly at his sudden display of affection.

“You idiot, he’s just naturally pale!” Seokjin admonished him even as he continued to feed him light snacks.

“Next time, say something when you’re not feeling well,” Hoseok broke his silence, a smile forming on his lips and you just knew it was fake. “Our little one is with us now. We no longer have to suffer, right, sunshine?”

The weight of Hoseok's words hung in the air, wrapped in the softness and faux innocence of his tone. It almost seemed like an innocent question, but you couldn't shake the feeling of caution that settled in the pit of your stomach. After all, it was Hoseok who ensnared you in his web and brought you into this situation.

Seokjin, sensing the tension between the two of you, directed your focus on him. His body was now turned to you, his form relaxed as he offered you a gentle and encouraging smile. “How did you get here, little one?”

“Daepyeonims Kim and Jung-“

“I take back what I said last night. I love you and you’re the best leader anyone could ever have!” Jimin suddenly said, jumping from his seat to cling to the aforementioned CEO. After which, the five of them listened to your retelling of how you got here.

“It’s true that we had an inkling of why we are acting…well, the way we are,” Seokjin noted after a lapse of silence, looking down at his hands as he did so. “It was the only plausible explanation, regardless of how illogical it was.”

“We weren’t- aren’t behaving normally. We thought back to everything that transpired during that day and the only deviation was our interaction with you.,” Namjoon took charge of the explanation, his voice steady and authoritative, as befitting a leader. “At first, the symptoms were bearable to say the least. I even managed to hold off for the whole day until I saw you in the elevator. And even then, I was already suffering. The pain was nothing I ever experienced before. All I could think about was you. All I craved was your presence. All I wanted that whole day was to go to you.”

Yoongi nodded, experiencing firsthand the excoriating pain last night. “Everything was a struggle. It’s like our organs were not functioning properly, like oxygen struggled to enter our lungs no matter how hard we breathed.”

“And you are the cure.”

You lifted your eyes to Park Jimin who sounded serious for the first time this morning. His smile was even missing from his face, but his eyes held genuineness. “You’re the only one we need, little one.”

But instead of feeling relieved, you felt suffocated, overwhelmed by the weight of their dependence on you. The realization that you held the key to their well-being filled you with a sense of panic, the walls closing in around you. You wanted to help them, to ease their suffering, but the burden felt too heavy to bear. With all seven of them relying on you, the pressure threatened to crush you under its weight.

As you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The repercussions of that potion were far greater than you could have ever imagined, and now, you were left to grapple with the consequences. “Until when?”

You untangled Taehyung’s arms from you and moved away despite the whine that left Jimin. You stood up, your back almost to the wall as you regarded them with your eyes. “Until when will you need me?”

“We don’t know, yet, my love,” Namjoon answered truthfully at the same time Taehyung.

“Forever,” his deep voice resounded over the room, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Silence descended, thick and palpable, as the gravity of the situation settled upon each of you like a suffocating blanket. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within your mind.

Forever. The word echoed in your ears, reverberating with both promise and dread. The thought of being tethered to them indefinitely sent shivers down your spine, a chilling reminder of the magnitude of their reliance on you.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes pleading as he reached out a hand towards you. "Please, don't leave us," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Your shoulders dropped down at his plea. You knew yourself all too well. You had to help them. You had to go at the bottom of this. You were going to be patient.

But patience was never your best suit.

You finally had it at exactly five in the afternoon. See you didn’t even last for 10 hours and you already felt suffocated. Anywhere you went, there would be at least two of them tailing you. Every time you turned to ask for space, they would be flashing you the sweetest smiles you were ever given. Every time you ran into Yoongi, he would blatantly offer you all his stocks; Jin was always seen to be carrying snacks around for you and trying to feed you; Namjoon would always try to herd you in his display room of paintings and sculptures; while Hoseok would always look at you then his phone and order you clothes that you wouldn’t even dream of buying from the price alone.

Meanwhile, the maknae line was always around you, beaming with energy and trying their very best to rizz you up. It was safe to say that they were doing their absolute best to make you lose your composure.

Which is why you abruptly stopped walking, turned around, and glared at the men behind you that almost crashed into each other, including your cat that was following you around the house.

“May I help you?” you asked, your brow raised as you waited for their answer as they looked at each other.

“Yes, little one. You definitely can help us. Let’s go over there and cuddle!” Jimin smiled angelically at you as he pointed upstairs to what you assumed was his room. See, this man looked so harmless. In fact, you thought he looked the sweetest among the seven, but his eyes could never fool you. You physically saw someone blushed so hard when he smiled at them, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he brushed his hair up like he was fond of doing.

On the other hand, Taehyung, ever the agreeable companion to Jimin, nodded vigorously, his boxy smile widening as he looked at you expectantly. Jungkook was bouncing on his feet, excited with the prospect that he got to have you in his arms despite his inability to meet your eyes at the moment.

Wednesday Evening, Day 2

“We need to talk,” you huffed as you pushed the three men inside what you assumed was the common room of this huge mansion.

Seokjin, who was already inside the room and enthusiastically playing his game, rapidly turned it off despite obviously winning to give you all his attention. His back was straightened after kicking his gaming console away. The way he was looking at you made you blushed, but you were deathly determined to not show it. You were terrified that if you gave in even an inch, then these men would gladly take a mile. You couldn’t let yourself drown in this scenario, and most of all, you shouldn’t let yourself fall for them.

These were just effects of that wretched potion. None of these were real.

“Yes, little one? What’s on your mind?” Namjoon’s voice suddenly disrupted your thoughts as he walked in the room, his posture relaxed. He intentionally brushed against your side, his hard muscles softly swaying your soft one, satisfying the call inside him to have you near him. He leaned against the table where Hoseok and Yoongi were working. They both gave you their attention as soon as you declared that conversation needed to be had.

“Speak your mind, sunshine,” Hoseok urged you gently with a smile on his face as though he didn’t terrify you the night before. Your eyes lingered on him, still unable to read his true personality. Or which among the versions he showed you were his realest?

Yoongi nodded when he saw you hesitated, giving you assurance you obviously needed to continue.

“I need space.”

Cue the tears from Jungkook, chaos from Taehyung and Jimin, rapid reasoning from Seokjin, dramatic clutching of heart from Yoongi partnered with a deathly glare to the who he assumed made you say those wretched word; maknae line, clenched of jaw from Namjoon and deafening silence from Hoseok. Despite the expected mixed reaction, one emotion rose above them all.

Panic.

As though they had one mind, the six CEOs turned to look at Namjoon, a plead for him to make sense of what was happening and to fix this for them. It was obvious that they needed you like air, if not more. Their survival hinged on you, and that was not even an overstatement.

Seokjin, ever perceptive, sensed the uncharacteristic struggle within the lead CEO. Namjoon’s jaw was, a sure sign of his struggle to maintain composure in the face of the unexpected. In a move only Seokjin could execute with dramatic flair, he jumped away from you, creating a symbolic distance that echoed your plea. He pointedly looking at the expanse of space between of the two of you as though this was what you meant when you knew he understood what you truly meant by space.

“There, little one,” Seokjin spoke softly, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through the room. His eyes were dark that held a mix of understanding and yet, a stubborn determination. “Space.”

You sighed, looking up at the peculiar-looking chandelier you just knew was Taehyung’s idea. “That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what do you mean?” Taehyung cut you off, his earlier tirade and childlike rebellion with his agemate were nowhere to be found and instead, who stood before you was an entirely different man. Had you looked closer, then perhaps you would have seen the swirling darkness in his eyes.

“You know we’d die without you. Why are you doing this?” Yoongi, who was still clutching his heart, spoke lowly. His eyes that you thought to be always emotionless were brimming with sadness. His words tugged at your heart.

But if they just let you speak, then they’d understood-

“Is that what you want?” Hoseok asked monotonously, and this time he didn’t look like the lively and full of sunshine CEO. This time, he looked like a dangerous man who was about to go off. He lifted his dark brow before standing up and circling to where you were. He was close, too close and yet, none of him was touching you. The height difference between the two of you made him seemed more intimidating as he leaned down to meet your eyes. “You want us to die, is that it? Hmm?”

“No-“

“Then what?”

“I just need space for myself-“

“But noona! I need you. We need yo-“

You turned to glare at Jungkook who actively gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. “Can you let me speak? Can you all let me finish?”

“Yes, noona. Sorry, noona. You’re so beautiful, noona,” he rapidly said as he formed hearts with his fingers, his smile was lovely as though he didn’t just annoy you.

“All of you,” Namjoon’s commanding voice echoed in the room, his draconic eyes set on you even as he addressed his brothers. “Sit down and let little one talk.”

Once they were all settled in with the five men sitting on the sofa, Yoongi not moving from his seat, and Namjoon standing tall- a deliberate choice, you thought, to let you know that you might have the floor but he still held the reins, you started explaining to them how you could not do this if it meant that you wouldn’t have any time for yourself. In order to leave this house once this was all over with your sanity intact, then you had to have rules and regulations like civil men did.

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing your resolve. Jin shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable. Hoseok glanced between you and Namjoon, silently absorbing the tension. Taehyung and Jungkook remained quiet, their eyes fixed on you, waiting for your conditions. Jimin scoffed lightly.

“What do you propose?” Jimin asked, his velvet smooth voice seemed to be innocent had you not known that he identified as a Slytherin.

“2 hours each. I think that since there are seven of you, that would be 14 hours of my day-“

“Dibs to the remaining 10 hours!” Yoongi suddenly said, his hand shooting up and his face held determination and a hint of mischief. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Yoongi as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Bold move, Yoongi," he remarked, his tone light but edged with amusement. "I, myself, am also vying for those ten hours, little one."

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, uncaring of what Jimin was saying. "I know what I want," he stated simply, crossing his arms as he leaned back further in his seat, looking supremely confident. “And anyway, now that I had her in my arms last night, I really don’t think I can sleep alone, anymore.”

“Excuse me?!” Taehyung stood up, facing Yoongi with disbelief in his face. “How did that happen-”

“Does being the oldest not mean anything anymore?!”

“You might as well step on me, hyung! You might as well kick me where it hurts the most- oh wait! You did!”

 You shook your head as maknae line plus Seokjin screamed at each other. Meanwhile, Hoseok was trying to keep the peace. Namjoon was the only one who kept on watching you, his mind going over an overdrive as to how to resolve this all while maintaining their leverage over you and keeping you happy.               

“Fine, we accept.”

They all turned to Namjoon, their eyes comically large at how easy their leader agreed. “We do?” Hoseok asked.

“Either that or lose her. Or die. So yes, we agree. In return, within those two hours of your undivided attention, you’ll cater to our every need.”

You blinked owlishly at what he said. And also, did he have to say that like that?!

“F-fine! But those ten hours will truly be mine, okay?”

“What will you even do within those ten hours, noona?” Jungkook asked innocently, his doe eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Shower, sleep, eat, meditate so as to not lose my mind-“

“But why can’t we do all those things together?” Jimin whined, swaying his body in emphasis of his desire to be included.

“Because! That’s private-“

“But we’re close!” Jungkook added, his eyes wide and earnest.

“Oh my God, you idiot,” you heard Seokjin murmured under his breath, disappointed and quite frankly, embarrassed by the youngest’s stubbornness.

“Two hours start when?” Hoseok finally asked something that could be answered logically.

“7 in the morning and ends at 9 in the evening.”

Thursday morning, Day 3

“Rise and shine, my one and only!”

Your room was gently engulfed by light as Kim Seokjin opened the door at exactly 7 in the morning. He was still wearing his blue pajamas and in his hands was a tray with what looked to be a delectable mug of coffee. You blinked your sleepiness away as he stepped in the room. He carefully placed the tray on your bedside table, before cupping your cheeks in between his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Okay.

That woke you up.

His gesture was unexpected, and it most probably showed on your face from the way he chuckled as he booped your nose.

“Ah, you’re so beautiful even in the morning, little one!” He exclaimed before stepping back and flicking the curtains open further, letting even more sunlight stream into the room. How was this fair, you wondered. How could he look so perfect and put-together even when he was still in his sleepwear? You glanced at the mirror on the wall and was horrified to see how opposite you looked to the man who just declared that you were so beautiful in the morning.

If you didn’t believe in the effectivity of the potion before, then you definitely did now. Your hair was all over the place and you had sleep in your eyes.

And oh my God, was that a dried drool on the side of your lips?!

You immediately made yourself presentable the best you could before Seokjin sat on your bed, lifting his own mug to his lips…his very plump lips. He was unfazed by your awkward demeanor.

“I am so glad I have this schedule. Nothing beats spending the morning with you,” he murmured warmly, his eyes shining with sincerity and love(?) “I made breakfast, little one. Get ready and come down, okay?”

It was quarter to eight when you finally joined him in the patio where he set up the breakfast. He was already dressed for work like you, his hair now sleeked up. Also, how could a forehead look that good? Did that even make any sense?!

He turned to you and smiled. His eyes traced your form before standing. He gently tugged you in his arms, completely engulfing you within him. You could hear his heart and hoped that he couldn’t hear yours; it was definitely embarrassing how fast yours was beating in comparison to his. You weren’t really used to being physically close to anyone, let alone your CEOs that you never had personal interactions with before this.

“I didn’t put on at tie yet because I wanted us to match,” he easily shared in your ear before guiding you to your seat as though what he did was not meant to make your heart beat faster.

You looked at all the mouthwatering dishes he prepared and wondered just how long he had been awake for. “Where are the others?” you hadn’t seen nor heard any of them in the house and you wondered if they had already eaten.

Seokjin merely smiled at you before artfully cutting pieces of the croissant he made for you and putting them on your plate. “Little one, it’s my time. You’re mine.”

“For two hours…” you added, suddenly feeling ominous by the way he worded his schedule and his dark eyes despite the sweet and seemingly harmless smile he was sporting.

“Sure.”

After he dropped you off in your office wherein he held your hand all the way from the car until he delivered you to your office chair, he planted a kiss on the back of your hand despite your reluctance. You couldn’t help but noticed the grip he had on you, nor the way he looked around the office and glared at any men glancing your way.

And of course, everyone in the office saw.

At exactly 9:01 am, a bouquet of flower was sent to your office. The sender? None other than Jung Hoseok himself.

He was sure to be punctual, not wasting any second off his scheduled time. He thought that time was gold, and he wanted nothing more since he woke up to be with you.

Sufficed to say, Jung Hoseok craved you so bad.

Your eyes widened from the sunflowers to him as he flashed you his sunny smile as though he didn’t scare you the past days with his warnings. “For the most beautiful part of my day.”

You could hear the murmurs of your officemates, and you were already dreading the gossips that would surely come. You wondered how they would look at you once this was all over. For sure, you’d be the laughing stock of the ton.

You most probably have to resign…

“Darling?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hoseok tilted his head as he leaned in you, his hand on your armrest. This close and you could smell him. And heavens. He smelled heavenly. He smelled clean and crisp, like the subtle touch of ocean breeze. This close and you could see how perfect his features were, how harmoniously proportionate they were. This close and you could see the darkness he always kept in bay.

“What are you thinking?”

“N-nothing-“

“Tell me,” he demanded gently, his eyes trained on your lips like no one was looking, like you and him were existing in your own world where no one could touch you and take you away from him.

Where no one could take you away from them.

“I-“

“Good morning! I have great, great news!”

Your friend breezed into the office, fashionably late as usual, her face lit up with excitement. The room buzzed with curious glances as she made her way to her desk, her eyes searching until they landed on yours. The grin she was sporting faltered off as the CEO turned to her with an expression she didn’t like before it all went away and Hoseok flashed her a smile.

“G-good morning, Daepyeonim Jung.”

“Good morning,” he answered cheerfully, fully straightening up and granting you the much-needed space to catch your breath. “What’s your good news?”

She looked at you, and only when you nodded did she whisper the news that her grandmother knew someone from the mountains that had the answer and solution. Her voice was hushed enough that your coworkers couldn’t hear her, yet clear enough to give you hope. Your grin was so wide as you stood up and hugged her.

It was only when you turned to Hoseok to share your happiness did you notice something unsettling. His expression had darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his features before he hastily composed himself with a bright smile.

What was that?

Before you could dwell on that, he declared it good news and pulled you out of the office.

You found yourself standing in the middle of his office as he plopped down on his chair, stack of paper on his table that grew in size from missing yesterday’s work. He seemed busy, yet he was looking expectedly at you. His eyes were serious as he gestured for you to come closer.

It was apparent he wasn’t happy with the distance when you decided to stop three feet away from him. His eyes remained impassive as he sighed and without any warning, pulled you to him. You landed on his surprisingly muscular lap, your hands automatically going to his shoulders in an effort to steady you.

Your eyes widened at his actions and any attempt to stand up was squashed by his ironlike grip around you.

“Didn’t you promise you’d cater to our every need when we agreed on that ridiculous two-hour schedule?”

“And having me on your lap is a need?!”

“It is. I want- no. I need you close,” and only when he confessed did you see the miniscule tremors in his hands. He was nuzzling his face on your neck, breathing in the scent he missed so much. Your soft skin against his touch somehow calmed the demons. If he was already like this despite you seeing him last night, then it meant that their symptoms were worsening like what your friend warned you of. The more time you spent with them and the more that your skins touched meant that their lovesickness would only worsen in time.

You were dreading to think what would happen to the remaining CEOs and how they would act, more so when Jimin and Namjoon were in the last two.

Namjoon's schedule sneakpeak

Before I Leave You (Pt. 26)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Getting wine drunk with Tae causes several problems and countless discoveries. But after the week you’ve had- you deserve to let loose a little.

Tags: themes of recovery, relapses, discussions of anorexia, brief bulimia mention, vomiting not specific to bulimia, non-verbal characters, non-verbal episodes, alcohol, drunk conversations about kinks, discussions of past underaged virginity loss, drunk sex, conversations about consent, kink discovery, mommy kink, mentioned collar kink, voyeurism, cuteness kink, Dom/sub undertones, Trans characters, mentioned dysphoria, Trans taehyung, Mommy Dom Tae, Submissive reader, non-sexual dominance, fluff, courting gifts, hurt/comfort,

W/c: 13.5k

A/n: two different people vomit in this chapter, this is your warning for that, it builds on a few of the angsty themes and im not saying the end isn’t funny but to me it is. i really liked exploring not only the tae m/c dynamic in this chapter but also the hobi m/c one! they are very quietly becoming friends and i think this is the first chapter where the affection is really aparent. 

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Your first courting present comes a few days after the hospital in the form of an unassuming brown paper bag. Stamped with little flowers and a neat pink sticker that reads ‘Stella’s luxury omega emporium’ on the front and tied with a pretty purple ribbon. 

A perfect batch of love lined with sparkly rose-scented paper just for you, much like the cheeks of the pack alpha that had presented them to you. His large hands holding the bag so gently, chin tipped down but watching you- like he’s waiting for some reaction. 

No one ever said that Namjoon wasn’t shy, wasn’t stuttery like a schoolboy presenting a confession even though he’s already told you he loves you. But it’s endearing to be reminded of it, his shoulders pinned to his ears as he stammers through an explanation. 

You’re tucked into the hallway outside your respective bedrooms where he’d cornered you after getting back from work. Private but only for the distance between you and the kitchen where Yoongi shouts about someone putting their flour-covered hands on his ass (not that he’s really upset about that anyway, but afternoon teasing is one of his favorite hobbies). You’re unable to resist your curiosity and anticipation, pulling the gift from the delicate crepe paper confines.

Keep reading

When you found out they cheated on you

Pairing: Hyung line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: because if there’s maknae story, there should be the hyung line story! Work and school have been exhausting me lately sksks I’m glad I made time to finish this! I hope you enjoy!

Namjoon

“It was a stupid mistake!” Namjoon, who rarely raised his voice, implored you to believe him. But you were done believing him. It didn’t matter if it only happened once, or that it was a mistake- none of that mattered because what mattered was that for that short span of moments, his lust overpowered his supposedly love for you.

“Stupid mistake? Namjoon, you’re one of the smartest man on earth for fuck’s sake! What you did wasn’t stupid! It cannot even be considered a mistake!” You screamed at him, your emotions getting the best of you because he kept on blocking your path. You gentle giant would never put his hand on you in anger, but he sure did use his form to stop you from leaving the studio. Jungkook looked traumatized as he inadvertently watched his hyung that he looked up to, and his noona in this terrible scenario.

“Flower, it’s the truth. It was nothing but a mistake! You’re the only one who has my heart! You’re the only one I love-“

“Do you? Really? Do you really love me?”

“I do!”

You shook your head before he could even finished his sentence. “No, Namjoon. I love you. I would never cheat on you. I would never betray your trust. But you did. And now I can’t even love you,” you argued softly, feeling all the energy draining out from you. Suddenly, you were just too tired of it all, and your words made Namjoon faltered.

He felt himself panic, felt himself at lost for the first time. He was a man who always knew what to do, always soldiered on through the toughest of times. But you saying you could no longer love him made him lose his composure. And with his stoic form, you walked past him.

You thought you could leave, really thought you could escape this messed up situation when the golden maknae suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking you from opening the door.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, closing your eyes as tears fell. “Please. Move.”

Jungkook’s lips quivered as he looked at your broken, desolate form, and to his leader who looked so lost, his head bent down as he looked so forlone. He knew he had to help just like how Namjoon was always ready to lend him a helping hand. He was always there to make the difficult decisions, always there to make sure that the members were doing fine.

And now, his leader was anything but fine. And you were the only one who held the great leader together. If you left, Jungkook was terrified to think of what would happen to his hyung.

You attempted to walk around him when he only moved with you, softly stopping you from leaving.

“Please noona, just listen to hyung first, okay?”

“No. I have nothing to say to him anymore.”

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t let you leave-“

You forcedly pushed him to the side, but the muscular golden maknae barely even moved. You were full on crying as you felt so emotionally drained and physically helpless that you didn’t notice Namjoon was standing behind you. His huge hand, the one that you always admired, snaked around you, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Let me go! Let me leave-“ He cut you off, his head bent to nuzzle your neck, his voice deep as the words he said made you paused.

“You and I know that I can’t ever let you go, flower. We’ll talk. We’ll resolve this. We’ll be happy again. You’re mine, flower. You’re never going to leave me.”

You whipped your head to look at him. Was he so disillusioned that he thought you would stay with him after cheating on you? Did he really think you’d still accept him?

Namjoon met your eyes with his determined ones, his other arm wrapping around your waist, effectively preventing you from leaving his side.

No.

Never would you leave him.

Never would he let you.

Without breaking eye contact, his deep voice resounded on the quietness of the studio. “Thanks, Jungkook. And lock the door when you leave.”

Seokjin

“I just can’t stand and see you live a lie. Y/N, we saw Seokjin and a girl kissing…I’m sorry you had to hear this from me.”

You heard what she said, could understand what she said. But why then were you frozen in tracks? Why then were your hands suspended as you poured her coffee? Why then did you desperately not want to believe her?

Why then did you want to run away from this situation?

She was your close friend, practically grew up with you. And you knew she would never lie about something like this. The picture she was showing on her phone was all the proof you needed.

You wouldn’t live with the disrespect, would never allow yourself to stay on a relationship that didn’t value honesty. And so, immediately you resigned from their company after spending so many years working in finance. The HR refrained from asking as though they had an inkling of idea why you were leaving. You set the effectivity as soon as possible, sacrificing your career just as he sacrificed your relationship for a fleeting lust. You were as though on an autopilot, your face stoic as you went out of the house and faced the world, only breaking down once you were safe in the four walls of your house.

Your house.

You were so glad that you didn’t jump right at the prospect of living with him when he begged you to move in with him. You were smart not to uproot your whole life and independence and space. But God were you tempted to wake up everyday in his arms, to see his sleepy face first thing in the morning, to cook and experiment with him.

But all of those were now gone with the wind.

You were avoiding him successfully from the day you were informed, leaving his messages and calls unanswered, leaving the door locked whenever he knocked which made him think you weren’t home.

So where were you?

If only you saw Jin right now, you’d feel a little bit pity for the man you still loved. That was the thing with love, it didn’t just fade away because someone did a mistake. It stayed, it lingered…until it festered from the inside.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, his messages getting increasingly agitated, angry, sad, and frantic- all of which were left unanswered.

You owed him nothing but your silence, yet his last message sent shivers down your spine.

‘You know I hate being ignored, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m capable to do if I ever lose you.’

Everyone knew Jin was a good man, someone who was always soft and always looking out for the members. Everyone knew he was selfless. But only you saw the swirling darkness in his eyes whenever he looked at you, only you felt how tight he was holding you whenever someone was near you, or how hard he made love to you on nights when he had no choice but to leave you for work.

But this was different. You felt like his message was a form of promise…or a threat.

Finally, his company contacted you for the documents you needed in order to secure another job, as well as your final pay. You were glad to get this done. You were planning on accepting another job far, far, far away from Jin, his lies, and the relationship you thought would survived. You went to the company after asking your friend that worked there if the group was in the building. Apparently, they were doing a guesting on a radio show which made you feel some kind of thing.

The last time you saw Jin was when he left your apartment before going abroad. You remembered how tight he hugged you, how warm his chest was, and how you were almost crying just thinking about him being gone for a week- which apparently was enough time for him to cheat on you.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he said with a small laugh, wiping your tears with his thumb. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to call everyday! Every hour!”

You laughed at his ridiculousness, and once you did, he gifted you with his beautiful smile. “That’s impossible. You’ll be busy-“

“Nothing is impossible for your boyfriend. I’ll even call you every thirty minutes!”

You scoffed at his cuteness. “It’s true! I’ll even be more clingy or else some asshole might snatch you up while you’re all alone.”

And when you stopped crying, he kissed you so tenderly, so slowly, savoring every moment with you that when you opened your eyes, you were smiling from how much he loved you.

You were an idiot.

You stepped out of the office after bidding your coworkers that turned close friends goodbye, and after securing the documents, the radio station where the group was guesting was playing on the huge screen on the hallway. You frowned when you noticed there were only six of them…with no Jin in sight.

“I see there’s only six of you. Is the world wide handsome doing okay?” The radio host asked the group members in concern, in which Namjoon took the lead.

“He has an emergency right now that sadly cannot wait. But I assure you, our hyung is okay, and he will be resolving the issue as soon as possible.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t believe your ears. And you certainly cannot believe your eyes when you suddenly felt a hand gripped your wrist, and dragged you down the hall. Your eyes were wide as you stared at Jin’s broad back, his breaths hard as he pulled you with him. You were too shocked to even resist, not until he pulled you inside his office and locked the door behind him.

His jaw was clenched as he took you in, his face missing the usual playfulness in it.

“I thought something bad happened to you,” he began in the deepest voice you heard him used. His form was rigid as he took you in, searching for any harm that may have come your way since you started ghosting him. And only when he were assured that you were unharmed did he meet your eyes. You were unharmed and that should calmed him down, but it didn’t. It didn’t get passed his observation that you appeared thinner than the last time he saw you. And he loathed that. Jin took pride in the fact taking care of you, of making sure that your well-being was his main priority that your weight dropped was like a knife to his heart. “I thought someone took you away from me,” he continued, walking closer to you as though he was a predator, and you a prey that had been successfully evading him for quite some time. And it enraged him, that when he got closed enough to you, he trapped you in his arms never to let you go. “Sweetheart, I thought I lost you,” he whispered in a dark tone, yet an underlying terrified emotion passed through his eyes.

You looked at him with hard eyes, “Don’t touch me.”

“First you ran away from me and now you don’t want me touching you?” He scoffed in disbelief.

“First you claimed to love me and then you threw our relationship to the ground and cheated on me,” you snapped back, pushing the tall man away from you with all your strength and the asshole only moved few inches.

“W-what? Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” He visibly paled, his hand was shaking with sudden stressed and anxiety.

“You’re not an idiot, Seokjin. So stop acting like one.”

“I don’t understand. Is that why you’re avoiding me? Because you think I cheated-“

“Don’t you dare make me feel like an idiot, Kim Seokjin.”

“I’m not, sweetheart. But that is not true! I’ll never cheat on-“

You showed him your phone, the one that your friend showed you and broke your heart. His eyes were on the screen of your phone, his eyes went round that you had proof of his infidelity. After a moment of silence, you deleted the picture.

“Don’t worry. Your image is safe,” you smiled at him sadly, assuring him that you would never use this against him despite how much he devastated you. At this point, you were just damn tired and his presence would never put you whole again.

You wanted to be away from him.

You managed to render him speechless, managed to put much distance between the two of you, before going straight to the door.

“She meant nothing,” his voice was pleading, watching you with pitiful eyes.

“Apparently, I mean nothing, too.”

You were about to open the door when his words stopped you.

“Do you want me to destroy her? You know I can…Just tell me what you need so we can move past this, sweetheart…”

You knew your Jin’s family was powerful, something that he never bragged about. He was so humble that he even chose to start from the very bottom, growing with the members through hardship despite the fact that he had a rich family. And now that he was saying these words, offering you to destroy someone just because he could proved to you how much you never knew him.

Your eyes were terrified as you looked up at the tall man, his jaw clenched, seriousness and madness crossing his face. “What I want is for you to go back in time and be faithful to me, but we cannot have that, do we?”

His handsome face visibly flinched from your verbal attack, but you had to get this out of your chest. “What I want is for you to leave me alone. I’m done with you, Kim Seokjin.”

And finally, when you opened the door, he didn’t stop you. Yet, his parting words to you assured you that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of him.

“I’ll give you time. I’ll give you space. But please don’t make me be the villain in our story, sweetheart. Because I can be the villain if it means keeping you with me.”

Yoongi

Your Yoongi was staying up late in his studio for almost a month now, pouring in so many hours just to perfect his craft that more often than not, you slept and woke up alone. And you would admit that you were feeling quite lonely, the fancy apartment he got for you and him was screaming in elegance, but you had never felt so alone than you did right now.

You missed your Yoongi.

With your mind made up, you cooked him his favorite food. You’d surprised him in his studio.

But when you got there, it was you who was surprised.

You wished you didn’t come, wished that you never locked eyes with him. You wished you never met him.

Yet most of all, you wish you never knew. It was true what they said, ignorance was a fucking bliss because having seen him thrusting behind a bent girl, one that you recognized, sent sharp stabs of pain and betrayal in your heart.

Did you ever really know him?

Because the man who opened his eyes in time to see your tears fell was not the one you fell in love with, he wasn’t the man who promised never to cheat on you because he knew how it felt, knew how damaging it was,

He experienced it, he lived it- so why then was he making you live the nightmare he escaped?

Yoongi’s movement faltered when he saw you. He wanted so bad to wake up from this, wanted so bad to consider this a mere nightmare. But it wasn’t. You were really looking at him with hurt and betrayal in your eyes.

But didn’t he mean for this to happen? Wasn‘t he the one to always self-destruct when things were becoming too good to be true? And weren’t you too good to be true?

You were too good for him.

And now he was regretting giving in to temptation, he regretted destroying the one good and pure thing in his life.

“K-Kitten,” he called out to you as he removed himself from the woman. And you winced when you heard the sickening sound of the proof of his infidelity. Before he could even tucked himself, you left.

You couldn’t even stay one second with him.

You couldn’t even breathe in that room because it reeked of them.

You couldn’t breath. God, you couldn’t breathe.

You heard him screaming for you as you ran, his deep voice resounding on the hallway as the remaining staff looked at you with bewilderment in their eyes. They never heard the Min Yoongi that desperate and fearful until that day.

You didn’t know how, but you managed to pack your stuff and left him and his lies. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to go after you. It did hurt, but you were glad he didn’t. You couldn’t believe he made a fool of you when you did nothing but love and understand his hectic schedule. And now you didn’t want to see him.

You thought you’d never hear from him again. You were sure he was ashamed of himself that he’d never show up in front of you again. But you couldn’t be anymore wrong.

It was almost a week when you came home from work. Your apartment was small, and not something you’d rent for a long time. But it was exactly what you needed- somewhere far away from him. So imagine your surprise when you walked to your apartment only to find him waiting for you.

Yoongi looked thinner, he looked paler and his eyes looked like they had not rested since forever. He stepped near you but you acted like he wasn’t there, fishing your keys from your bag.

“Kitten-“

You evaded his touch, not looking at his way and instead, attempted to open your door.

“Kitten, let’s talk. Please. I haven’t slept since you left. I’ve been going crazy because I couldn’t find you,” he said desperately, his voice showing agitation despite him trying to say his piece calmly. You pretended to not hear him. You promised yourself that the next time you’d see him, you would act as if he didn’t exist, because why shouldn’t you? In the first place, he acted as if you didn’t exist and proceeded on fucking someone else.

You cursed when you dropped your keys in your haste. You bent down and tried again, praying to heavens that your hand stopped trembling.

“I didn’t know where you were. I went around, I looked for you. I went to your family, I went to your friends but none of them knew where you are. I thought something bad happened to you. I thought I’d never see you again,” he sputtered out, his eyes desperately searching yours as he stood beside you. His form looked defeated, yet you knew he was a stubborn man.

He wouldn’t let this go.

“As you can see, I am alive and well. So leave,” you said in a cold voice, not once removing your eyes from your door that was as equally stubborn as Yoongi.

“Why would I? My girlfriend is here. Shouldn’t lovers stay together?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

You sighed in frustration before finally, finally looking at the lunatic beside you.

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought our relationship was done from the time you cheated on me.”

If he was affected by your verbal attack, he didn’t show. Instead, his eyes lost their desperation, and in their place was determination. He stepped near you that it left you no choice but to back away from him until you felt the door behind you.

“Oh, kitten, you thought we were done? That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” He whispered as he bent down to look into your eyes. He smiled at you, his smile so sweet yet so cold, as though some switch was turned. “That’s okay. I understand. But we’re not done because you promised me before that you were never going to leave me, isn’t that right, kitten?”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. Having touched you calmed him down enough to know that you needed space from him. But it was alright. He’d give you space. He’d let you breathe.

But there was no way he was going to let you go.

But you were smart, because the very next day, you moved.

Hoseok

“Don’t! Don’t touch me. You disgust me!” You screamed at him as you pushed his desperate hands away from you.

You couldn’t believe how idiotic you were. You thought surprising him in the hotel he was staying in Japan was a smart move. You thought he’d be happy to see you because why wouldn’t he want to see you when it was your fucking anniversary today.

And yet here you were, shocked to see him in bed with another woman.

The staff were hesitant to tell you his room number this time. But it would rather be more suspicious if they didn’t give Jung Hoseok’s longtime girlfriend his room number when they were used to you surprising him.

As soon as Hoseok opened the door wearing only a robe, you jumped and planted kisses on his handsome face. But when you finally opened your eyes, you saw a woman hastily wearing her clothes with her hair all over her face, and her lipstick smudged. Slowly, you turned to look at his lips only to find the same shade there.

You never laid hands on him, not even in playful fights.

But this time, you slapped him so hard his head turned to the side.

“Angel, I-I’m sorry!” He sobbed as you pushed him further away from you, your eyes never leaving the crumpled bedsheets, his scattered clothes on the floor, the glasses of wine on the table. You couldn’t believe he could do this to you. You couldn’t believe he would ever do this to you.

He was full on sobbing as he held you to him. And you were still too shocked of everything- yet you knew you didn’t want him touching you.

You struggled against him, pushing him away. He still smelled like her. The girl had long ran out of the room, yet her presence still lingered.

“Don’t touch me. We’re done, Hoseok,” you declared in a strong voice before turning away from him. You didn’t even make it halfway to the hallway when you heard his scream that were so loud that the members all went out of their rooms thinking it was an emergency.

You heard him before you could even turn to look at him.

“Please please please, don’t leave me please,” he croaked as you looked at his tear-stained eyes. He was inconsolable, his breathing rapid as he implored you to believe him, to not leave him.

You shook your head at him, aware of the members who were all watching the two of you with anguish and surprised in their eyes. They weren’t used to see Hoseok this vulnerable, and they had known you for so long and yet this was the first time they saw the two of you like this.

What happened?

He was so in love with you..

Hoseok attempted to touch you when you slapped him once again, your anger getting the best of you. “I told you not to touch me. Never touch me again,” you fumed at him, never minding his distressed state. “Not when you fucked someone else minutes ago!”

“I’m sorry. Don’t leave me. Don’t. Please.”

At that point, Hoseok was even more incoherent, his cries making his words come out short that Jimin couldn’t take it any longer and went closer to his hyung in an attempt to calm him down.

“No. You deserved to be alone,” you spat at him before walking away only to be once again stopped by him. He tugged your hand, and to your surprised, he knelt down. He bowed down his head as though he was praying for you not to leave, your hand trapped in his larger ones.

“Hyung-“

“I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything for you to forgive me. Just please!” His voice was loud as he wailed, his shoulders shaking. He looked up to you. “Please don’t leave me.”

But his tears wouldn’t move you. Not when you gave him all of you. Not when you loved him with all your heart only for him to cheat on you.

At your cold stare and silence, Jimin squatted down beside him. “Hyung, maybe you two should talk again when both of you are calmer.”

Namjoon’s mind started shifting gears. He knew no one should see Hoseok like this, knew that the dancer could not control his emotions. He stepped near you, touching your elbow gently as he leaned down to look at you.

“Right. Hyung, the two of you will talk tomorrow. I’m sure Y/N is still exhausted from her flight,” he started before looking at the still crying man. He nodded his head at him in assurance. And only when Hoseok nodded did Jimin helped his hyung to stand up. “Jimin, bring him to his room first. I’ll take care of Y/N.”

He didn’t leave, not before telling you he loved you and that he’d talk to you tomorrow. Not before you and Namjoon left first.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” you whispered to the tall man beside you.

“I know. It’s just to calm him down for tonight, Y/N,” he assured you, knowing that what his hyung did was wrong. He heard enough to know that his hyung was in the wrong. “But I hope you know he’s never going to let you go that easily.”

And when you looked behind you, there he still was, standing with tears in his eyes- yet his face was clouded with darkness and a promise that he would make this right, whether you wanted to or not.

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

Love As Soft As a Distant Star

Author: vyduan Pairing: Min Yoongi | Reader, Min Yoongi | Park Jimin Genre: one shot, witch au, arranged marriage au, slow burn, friends to lovers, angst Word Count: ~23.6k Rating: Explicit Warnings: swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, light mentions of domestic abuse, explicit descriptions of masturbation, use of sex toy in masturbation/sex, m/f oral sex (female receiving), explicit descriptions of consensual m/f sex, woman on top, light mentions of consensual mxm sex, discussions of difficulty achieving female orgasm, sex is considered a part of their duties (but is all consensual) AO3

Summary: You didn’t mean to fall in love with your husband and fellow Witches’ Councilmember Yoongi, but here you are: in love. (How gauche and not the thing. You’re co-workers, not lovers.) It’s particularly inconvenient since he is in love with someone else.

Notes: Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @colormepurplex2. I hope you like it!! Happy Halloween!!

World inspired in part by melodiousb's "Trust in the Weather."

Special thanks to @hamsterclaw, @sugalaritae2, @thatlongspringnight, @minisugakoobies, @booboobutt, supertaster, lawyerjin, and superstars for your handholding, encouragement, and quite frankly, for listening to me complain and cry and whine and just throw a tantrum every five minutes because this fic was supposed to be about 5k and here we are at almost 5x that. (This is actually the second fic I had started for this fic exchange. I had shelved my original idea because it would have been too long. The irony is annoying.)

For more of my fics, here is my Masterlist.

Love As Soft As a Distant Star

You awaken to the smell of eggs and bacon. The soft morning light filters through your sunshine yellow curtains and you hear the birds and burbling fountain outside your open window. You allow your awareness to sink back into your body and stretch. You had slept restlessly in the night and there is a crick in your neck and a twinge in your shoulder.

There is a tap at your door and you mumble a blurry, “I’m up.”

Your husband, colleague, and fellow witch opens the door just a tiny bit and peeks in, his button nose and dark eyes glittering underneath the black wave of his fringe. It’s too early for you to see him full in the face so you pull the gray and green checkered duvet over your head.

“I made breakfast,” Yoongi says, his voice a pleasant low burr. “Come down before it gets cold, Y/N.”

“Mmmph,” you grumble in reply. “You could just spell it so that it doesn’t.”

You sound whiny even to your own ears. You don’t know why you’re so grumpy except a sudden memory of Yoongi and Jimin’s desperate panting and grunting traveling through the open windows last night reminds you.

Even now, the mere recall of their fucking leaves you burning and breathless. It doesn’t help that Yoongi had been so out of his mind with pleasure that his control over your psychic link had slipped and his orgasm had reverberated through you, leaving you wanting and weeping. If that had been merely an echo of Yoongi’s release, you can only imagine how mind-blowing it had been in reality.

You feel an ache behind your eyes.

“You know if I did that, you’d stay in bed all day,” Yoongi reasons. “Come on, Y/N. Jimin wants to see you before he leaves.”

Your gut twists and you choose to blame it on needing to relieve yourself. “Gimme a few minutes,” you say carefully.

Yoongi chuckles. “Alright,” he says and shuts the door.

You hear him pad down the wooden hallway and thunk down the stairs. His footfalls are surprisingly heavy for such a slight man (although you suppose he isn’t as lean as he used to be — years of physical and magical labor have filled him out nicely). You throw your covers off yourself and reluctantly swing your legs off the edge of the mattress and set your feet on the carpeted floor.

You shiver even though it’s still the beginning of autumn. The morning carries a slight chill, but you know it will burn off by mid-afternoon once the shadow cast by the forest is behind your cottage rather than over it.

You quickly grab the burnt orange sweater you were wearing last night from its resting place over your wooden desk chair. You head to the bathroom and get yourself both physically and mentally ready for the day. You wonder how long you can delay, but then you remember how Yoongi will have no qualms about dragging you downstairs by the ear.

You remember how much you also love Jimin, that it is neither Yoongi nor Jimin’s fault that you had been foolish enough to fall in love with your husband.

You are once again grateful that early in your marriage, you’d mutually agreed to keep the boundaries of your psychic link tightly wrapped around yourselves. It allowed you to maintain the privacy of your feelings (both emotional and sensational) and only in moments of extreme duress would they leak through to the other person.

The two of you are only married because that is part of the job description as Tranquil Valley’s witch representatives to the Witches’ Council. Every town or village’s witch representatives are married regardless of gender or sex. Such unions are perfunctory and pragmatic. Like all coworking relationships, some matches are lucky enough to eventually fall in love, but they are few and far between. More often than not, councilmembers just take on lovers or companions. It is a much simpler solution (and one which Yoongi has clearly availed himself).

Sometimes, marriages have to be dissolved due to irreconcilable differences between two parties. (And sometimes, sometimes, they have to be dissolved due to abuse. The Witches’ Council tries to keep these cases hushed lest humans and regular witches lose the respect they feel is their due.)

(Jimin was one such case though he never spoke of it. His husband had been removed from the council and their marriage sundered years ago, though Jimin had refused to keep his seat. He’d balked at the inhumane requirements for him to be re-bound to another person almost immediately after in order to retain his position as witch representative. The council had wanted to save face and Jimin had unceremoniously told them all to fuck themselves. You had not blamed him.)

“Y/N! Sometime this century!” Yoongi calls from below, effectively pulling you out of your reminiscing. You’d taken too long.

You dash down the wooden stairs and sheepishly slide into your small kitchen. Jimin is already seated in the nook, happily occupying the sunny spot. The sunlight reflects off his cotton candy pink hair and though your heart is sore, your eyes drink him in anyway. You marvel at the sly curves of his lips, the round of his cheeks, the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jimin is so, so beautiful.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer,” Yoongi teases in his gravelly voice from the wooden kitchen counter as Jimin preens and bats his dark lashes at you. “It’s not like we’re living in the olden days.”

You feel your face heat at being caught, but you push through it. “Pictures can never fully capture our Jiminie’s beauty,” you say as you slide into your seat at the table opposite of Jimin. There is, after all, no point in denying what you were doing. Jimin knows you appreciate his appearance. So does Yoongi. He’s found you looking at Jimin often enough in the past. (Jimin is looking especially fine and soft this morning in a fluffy sky blue sweater that allows peeks of his collarbones.)

“Hmmm,” muses Yoongi, “just so.” He hands you a cup of coffee (no sugar, a splash of oat milk), chopsticks, and a plate of eggs over medium, bacon, kimchi, sourdough toast with ample butter and jam, and a peeled tangerine. Despite how long you took upstairs, the food is still warm (except for the tangerine) and your coffee is still hot.

You thank him and wonder if Yoongi has ever discovered you looking at him, and if he would tell you to take a picture. If he knows you appreciate his looks. If it causes Yoongi to preen. (He is in an oversized black hoodie and low slung pajama pants and looks delectable.)

You mentally shake yourself off this line of thinking. What does it matter if you find your husband attractive? The two of you have a duty — and you do it.

You consummate your marriage during every harvest moon to honor the moon and as thanks for a bountiful year. You consummate your marriage on the winter solstice as prayer for the grounds that lay fallow and the grounds planted with winter crops. You consummate your marriage on the vernal equinox to symbolize the literal sowing of fields. You consummate your marriage on the summer solstice to honor the sun and its life-giving force.

You do your duty. You never shirk it (though you are not quite sure you ever enjoy it either).

(You tamp down the disappointment that Yoongi always enjoys it enough. You remind yourself that releasing his seed, too, is part of his duty.)

You wonder if Yoongi loves Jimin because consummation with him has nothing to do with duty and everything to do with pleasure. You wonder why you do not seek out the same for yourself, except the thought of consummation with someone you do not know down to the depth of your bones is repellant. That and it rarely ends in climax for you anyway so why bother?

You decide for the countless time this morning to divert your thinking. “You wanted to see me, Jimin?”

Jimin beams a smile at you, his crooked front tooth charming you as always. “Jungkook has been asking after you, Y/N,” he says.

Your stomach churns. Jungkook is pleasant enough, but his energy is too bold for you. He feels like a puppy and it makes you tired to be around him. “Oh?” you reply.

You can tell Jimin draws the incorrect conclusion from your muted response when his face morphs into delighted calculation. “Yes,” he says. You can practically see the glee vibrating off his compact form. “He was wondering if you were going to attend Namjoon’s councilmember ascension event next month.”

You grimaced. You had known Namjoon when you were both young witches and though you had ascended to your position with Yoongi at Tranquil Valley more than a decade ago, no township or village had ever fit Namjoon quite right. Though most of the witch population chooses to settle somewhere and become part of that community by marrying as humans did and starting families, he had become a traveling witch (much as Jimin was) and wandered from territory to territory, apprenticing himself to many different talented witches until he chose to move on again.

Jimin is friends with him through his wanderings so you know more than you care to about Namjoon and his eclectic tastes and penchant for absorbing as much magical lore as possible. You secretly contend that Namjoon is petty and tedious (though competent enough), and that’s why he is constantly passed over. Perhaps he’s finally found a place as tiresome as he is.

“I had no intention of doing so,” you say harsher than you had intended, “Yoongi already agreed to go. The event doesn’t require both of us to be there.”

Yoongi shoots you a puzzled look because you hadn’t yet told him of your intentions to stay home, but you ignore him. When Jimin quirks his head at Yoongi, your husband merely shrugs so slightly that you almost miss it were it not for the fact that you are always aware of him when in his presence. It was not always so, but ten plus years working and living with a person will do it to even the most self-absorbed (and you are not self-absorbed — or at least, no more than the average person).

But as much as Yoongi knows how to read you, he still doesn’t know all of your story — only the bare bones of it. You prefer it that way and had taken the position years ago as a chance to start over. You do not wish to be reminded of your past, let alone revisit someone you find obnoxious.

Besides, you also aren’t going because you can’t stand the idea of Yoongi leaving you alone in your shared quarters while he is off fucking (or being fucked by) Jimin. Though you know distance doesn’t mute your psychic link — what good would the link serve if that were the case — you hope being at home will distract you enough so that you won’t notice as much if Yoongi’s control slips again. It doesn’t happen often and for that, you are exceedingly grateful.

“Jungkook will be disappointed,” Jimin remarks, his expression sneakier than you like.

You wave him off as you take a sip of your coffee, grateful for something to occupy you before something uncharitable slips from your lips. “He’ll get over it,” you say after you get your mouth under control. “I’m sure there will be plenty of witches who will be willing to take his mind off of me when he’s at Namjoon’s ascension afterparty.”

“Oh, I’m sure, too,” agrees Jimin. “But they won’t be you.”

You sigh. “He’ll eventually figure out that I’m not interested,” you say and dig into your eggs with feigned gusto.

“Well, if it’s not Jungkook, do you have your eyes on anyone else?” asks Jimin. He leans in as if this crafted intimacy will divest you of your secrets.

You do not bother replying and Jimin wisely keeps any additional comments to himself (but not before shooting Yoongi another glance).

The three of you continue breakfast and Yoongi changes the subject to the library re-opening that he knows you won’t object to. You allow yourself to settle into the safety of town administration and Jimin pipes in occasionally with observations and advice of his own. You know your contribution to the discourse is half-hearted at best, but your thoughts are scattered and you want to sulk.

You do not understand why you want to sulk. You do not sulk; that is not a thing you do.

Soon enough, breakfast is over and you clear the dishes into your kitchen’s farmhouse sink as Jimin goes to gather his bags from Yoongi’s room.

You are staring at the mess debating whether you will do the dishes with your own two hands because you need something to do or if you will expend the requisite energy and magic to spell the dishes clean when Yoongi says, “You’re moody.”

“Am I?” you murmur distractedly. You turn on the water and pull on your teal dishwashing gloves. You need the meditative task today.

Yoongi ambles to your side and bumps your shoulder in a friendly gesture. “You’ve seemed moody a lot lately.”

You turn, startled to see him peering at you with such scrutiny. “Have I?”

“Yes. Have your courses been bothering you? I know some months the pain is considerable,” he continues, the picture of solicitousness. “Are you nearing the change? Or perhaps you are with child?”

You are surprised. Jimin is still here (though in another room) and Yoongi is casually discussing your work-related duties as if Jimin can’t just waltz back into the kitchen at any moment. As if he is also part of your marriage. It is inappropriate.

“That’s unlikely,” you glare at your husband.

“Just because it’s unlikely doesn’t mean you can’t be,” Yoongi says.

“As you know, our last consummation was mere days ago,” you reply coldly while you turn back to the task at hand, “and I was menstruating then. I doubt I am pregnant.” You scrub a plate with more force than necessary. “Also, I resent the insinuation that I’m anywhere near perimenopause let alone menopause.”

You know Yoongi thinks that should be the end of it, and you normally would stop, but a frisson of fury forces itself up, emerging from your normally impassive waters.

“This line of reasoning is outdated and sexist,” you continue. “Should I blame your intrusiveness on your testosterone rising thanks to an increased proximity to Jimin? Too much fucking is stirring up your baser emotions?”

Yoongi sucks in a breath, sharp and astonished. You know it’s out of character. The two of you were chosen for Tranquil Valley because of your temperaments: calm and steady, even-keeled. Though you are the grumpier of the two, no one would ever call you hot headed let alone spiteful.

Your last comment was spiteful.

Your day is doomed to be one unacceptable humiliation after another when you sense more than hear Jimin as he comes back into the kitchen and tries unsuccessfully to go back out.

“Jimin and I are concerned,” Yoongi continues. You can tell he is trying very hard to dredge up as much civility as he can.

You resist the overpowering need to smash the plate in your hand. Breaking dinnerware is only satisfying if you cannot magic it back together, the evidence of brokenness swept away and hidden by a neat party trick.

You do not wish your cracks to be temporal, tempered, or temperate.

“You’ve discussed me with Jimin?” You turn to face him in full.

“I’m worried about you,” insists Yoongi as if he’s in the right. “And of course we talk about you. You and I talk about Jimin all the time. You’re our friend.”

“But I’m your wife,” you hiss, your gloved hands dripping over the floor as you gesture between you. “Our marriage is none of his business. Tranquil Valley is not his town. He is not our superior. He isn’t even a councilmember anymore.”

Anger rushes across Yoongi’s face and his eyes dart to where you know Jimin is frozen by the kitchen entrance. Of course his primary concern is for Jimin’s feelings. You wonder if he even realizes you have any.

You feel strangely vulnerable, ashamed of the ugliness you never suspected was buried within you.

You don’t need to see the younger man to know you have breached trust. You know why Jimin is no longer on the council with you two anymore. You and Yoongi had been his staunchest advocates, documenting the abuse and providing refuge for your friend.

You are uncertain whether Jimin will still allow you to call him as such.

“I guess I should be grateful you chose to be nosey then, hmmm? I can’t imagine what would have become of me had everyone continued to mind their own fucking business.” Jimin’s voice drips with calm though you know he is not. He whips you with his dignified composure.

“That’s not what I mean, Jimin,” you protest, “of course we couldn’t allow that man to —”

“I know what that man did,” Jimin bites, cutting you off. The air cracks and shudders with Jimin’s magic. “I was there.”

Yoongi crosses the kitchen to Jimin’s side, leaving you to stand alone against the sink. He approaches slowly and fissures spread across your heart as you witness the way Yoongi asks and Jimin permits with just subtle inclines of their heads. Theirs is the language of lovers, the casual intimacy of people who know each other’s bodies thoroughly. Yoongi wraps his strong arms around Jimin, his forehead kissing Jimin’s forehead.

You cannot bear to look. You cannot bear to look away.

The electric hum recedes as Jimin allows Yoongi to soothe him. You watch as they hold each other with a devotion you never before begrudged but now find yourself doing so.

The water is still running and it is too loud, too alive, too clean.

You break your gaze and move to turn off the faucet. When you turn back around, Jimin is gone and Yoongi is alone.

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In the days following, you and Yoongi assiduously avoid one another. You hide in your workroom and Yoongi goes out in the field early and returns home late.

He no longer wakes you for breakfast, except when you finally go down after he heads into town, your food is always still warm and your coffee is always still hot.

It shames you.

Though you know you need to apologize to him, you cannot bring yourself to do so. (You can’t even bring yourself to think about Jimin.) You know if you do, your husband will try to get to the root of your outburst and you do not have the emotional wherewithal to discuss it at length with him.

You do not know if you will be able to keep your dignity intact, if your jealousy of Jimin will only spotlight the unfortunate happenstance of you being in love with Yoongi. It is embarrassing and gauche.

You presume Yoongi avoids you because he is angry on Jimin’s behalf (though he doesn’t take it out on you because that is not his way). He has every right to be, and for the first time since your ascension day, you are afraid.

What if Yoongi chooses Jimin and leaves you? What if he quits his position and you no longer have a husband or a friend and have to consummate quarterly with a new husband — one who would be a stranger? (You recoil at the thought.) Or worse yet — what if he reports you to the Witches’ Council and asks to have you removed?

(It is irrational. It is extremely difficult to depose a sitting councilmember. You know from seeing how they dragged their feet when Jimin was actively being harmed and controlled.)

You’d spent your childhood dreaming of being a councilmember, of working so hard to be at the top of your classes and excelling not only at spellwork and potion making, but also at management and administration. Namjoon had been your main rival for top marks, but he had never seemed to care for the trappings of success.

You’d had no choice but to be outstanding. Your family lacked the connections and wealth to influence the Witches’ Council into providing a position. (Unlike Namjoon, but you suppose if he had really wanted a seat, he could have prevailed upon his family to procure him a spot. You reluctantly allow for this point in his favor.)

When you and Yoongi had been selected for the sleepy town a few hours out from Tech City, you’d been so anxious, desperate to please both him and the councilmembers you would be replacing. It was rare for both councilmembers to be replaced at the same time, but Chirawan and Saanvi had served the town as wives for more than four decades and were waiting for Yoongi and you to finish your apprenticeship before retiring. The two witches had been kind and patient and you and your fiance had thrived under their tutelage.

Yoongi was the better people person and better at raw magic whereas you were the better administrator and loved intricate spellwork and practical potions. Chirawan helped Yoongi get to know the citizens of Tranquil Valley as he learned how to visualize what they needed (and wanted), and then used his raw magic to create it — sometimes in conjunction with local craftsmen, sometimes without.

The sheer power and magnitude of Yoongi’s abilities had always seemed more useful than your own, but Saanvi had helped you see the need for both of your talents. Your wards kept shops and streets safe from crime, your potions helped the local witches with supply issues during the heavy cold and flu season, and your knack for administration kept the town government in good working condition. Saanvi had even shown you how the townspeople liked you just fine (and they still do).

Though Yoongi had been a stranger to you at the start of the apprenticeship, by the time of your ascension day, you two had become good colleagues and friendly enough. You’d found him restful and hardworking, and he had not seemed to object to your company, even occasionally seeking it out during your downtime. Your practice consummations had been textbook (if not very exciting), and overall, Saanvi and Chirawan had assured you both that you would be fine.

Up until now, it has mostly been fine. The two of you, like all people, argue and differ in opinion, but eventually, you two usually come to some sort of accord.

This detente does not feel like one of those moments.

But when the days turn into weeks and your superiors have not fired you and you each have resumed speaking to one another (albeit stiltedly), you hope that perhaps given enough time, Yoongi will remember that you are not the monster you’d shown him. You hope he will remember that as much as he knows Jimin, he knows you, too. That there is also an intimacy between people who have steadily lived and worked together for over a decade with minimal friction.

You may not know Yoongi’s body like a second skin, but you know enough.

You know the slow, steady rhythm of his days, how he wakes before you and starts breakfast, does an immediate triage of any bureaucratic fires that have erupted overnight before leaving the long term solutions to you, and then heads out to make the public appearances and networking events around town he knows you hate.

You know his favorite stews and soups, how he takes his coffee and whisky, his favorite sweaters and slippers, his favorite playlists and sports teams, and most of what he is going to say before he says it (especially when it comes to the town and its residents).

You know the way his shoulder aches in the winter and the exact pressure points to push so his pain can ease. (It helps that you can feel an echo of the pain in your own body when he is too tired to shield you from it.)

You know the way he will hum under his breath as he prepares your cozy cottage for winter and the way he likes to peer into the forest behind you, smiling softly at the deer and tiny foxes that wander into the clearing around your home.

You know the way his weight settles over you during your consummation rituals, the way his eyebrows scrunch and his breath hitches right before he spills into you and onto the fertile soil below.

You know by the way he comes back from Namjoon’s ascension ceremony just as weighed down as before that he did not spend his nights with Jimin in heartfelt reconciliation and joyful celebration.

You know the way he will hover near the windows to check the road into town on days he anticipates Jimin making an appearance, even so.

You know the way Yoongi shrinks into himself as the days pile into weeks and then into months, and Jimin never appears.

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When Yoongi finally returns to his tiny cottage after a long day of clearing snow from blocked roads and parking lots, he is relieved to see the warm lights through the windows. He is exhausted, his left shoulder aches, and his magic needs replenishing with one of your reconstitution brews and hopefully, his mother’s kimchi jjigae that you learned to make years ago. Instead, he is met with an unfamiliar sand colored Toyota Highlander parked on the side of their driveway.

Yoongi sighs and checks his phone to see if you’d texted him about the guest and absent any, sighs again. Maybe it was a last minute drop-in from the locals (they try to discourage such drop-ins, but sometimes, it just can’t be helped). He hopes that whoever it is will take the hint and leave as soon as possible, but Yoongi isn’t confident.

He stomps into the mudroom, flops onto the simple wooden bench, and slips off his muddy boots, debating summoning the energy to spell them clean. He ultimately decides against it. After all, tomorrow will be more of the same shit. At least his thick woolen socks are dry. Not only are they made with some sort of fancy dry-weave sweat-wicking technology, you have painstakingly stitched in spells to make doubly sure his socks stay dry and always maintain his preferred temperature level.

Yoongi sheds his gloves, woolen beanie, checkered scarf, and his thick, shearling lined flannel jacket, hanging them from the wall hooks. He checks the convenient mirror you’d hung and ruffles his hair so it doesn’t look quite so matted down. His cheeks are ruddy and wind-chapped and his eyes are lined with weariness. Yoongi doesn’t bother to straighten his flannel shirt or the thermals underneath. If his guest is offended at his appearance, they shouldn’t have dropped by so late in the day.

He sucks in a cleansing breath, holds it a few seconds, and then whooshes it out his lungs. Though Yoongi does not mind dealing with people, he is still an introvert and he is all peopled out. That’s in great part why living with you used to be so soothing and comfortable. You, too, are an introvert and content to leave him to his own counsel.

Yoongi is sad as he realizes that you no longer seem to be his resting place. He doesn’t know why — has given you ample chances to open up and tell him, has even given you months of space — but you never say anything. That combined with Jimin refusing to answer his calls and texts has made this fall and winter season the worst he’s weathered in years. The lack of sun always makes him feel a little down, but he’s usually had you and Jimin to help him through.

Yoongi is worn out and he hates that he doesn’t even know how it happened.

He forces himself into the kitchen and is pleased to see kimchi jjigae simmering on the stove. He doesn’t know why he didn’t smell it when he got in. He idly wonders if he’s catching a cold and reminds himself to ask you for one of your immune boosting teas before he goes to bed.

Yoongi hears lowered voices and when he pops into the common room, is stunned to see Jimin — now with gunmetal gray hair — sitting on the couch in the arms of a beautiful man. Beautiful is an understatement. Yoongi thinks this might be the most arrestingly attractive man he’s ever seen — and he grew up with Seokjin Kim. The otherworldly man is saying something in a low baritone (which would be distracting enough) except he is also nuzzling Jimin’s face with his own and playing with Jimin’s tiny fingers.

The stranger’s dark brows are sensuous slashes above smoldering brown eyes, and they lift when Yoongi grumbles a greeting.

“Oh, Yoongi,” you say as you scoot over on the forest green loveseat to make room for him. It’s the first time in months he’s heard you address him with anything but passive politeness, and yet, he hadn’t even realized you were in the room until you’d spoken. “Jimin requested a last minute meeting and he brought a friend along. This is Taehyung Kim — they are old elementary school friends.”

Yoongi finally takes you in. You are in your favorite tangerine colored angora sweater and soft, gray lounge pants. Your face and body language are forcibly placid and he sees pity in your eyes. Suddenly, he hates you.

“Hello, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, remembering his manners. What he does not remember, however, is Jimin ever mentioning this Taehyung. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting,” he adds, though he had no idea to expect guests tonight. He used to consider Jimin family — but since his radio-silence and this surprise Taehyung, Yoongi doesn’t know what Jimin is to him anymore. “Clearing the smaller roads took longer than I thought.”

You make some small sound of commiseration and then pour him some tea from the tea service on the coffee table. Yoongi must be out of it if he didn’t even notice how you’d taken care to bring out his favorite tea set with the little cartoon cats. He can’t even smell what he’s sure must be his favorite valerian root tea and when he notices the beveled honey jar, he knows he is right. He must be coming down with something if he didn’t even smell the bitter, earthy tea.

Yoongi sits down on the loveseat and nods a thanks as you hand him a cup with a cat eating tangerines. He scoots as far from you as possible without it making it seem as if he’s doing so. He can tell from the way Taehyung’s eyes bore holes into him that he is unsuccessful.

“They showed up about fifteen minutes ago,” you say, acknowledging not giving him a head’s up. “Said it was urgent but wanted to wait for you before telling me. I had just started apologizing to Jimin right before you got home.”

Yoongi almost spills his cup of tea. He waits for you to say more, but you do not. He peers at you and Jimin but does not see any of the previous comfort and love you used to share. He only sees strain on both of your parts as Taehyung hugs Jimin tighter (if possible).

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

He is gratified to see your grip on your teacup tighten just a fraction before you release it. He’s glad you haven’t apologized yet. He’s glad he gets to witness it. Yoongi doesn’t care if that means he’s a bitter, petty person. He is feeling bitter and petty.

You turn to face Jimin, your face contrite and nervous. “I’m sorry for throwing your status as a non-councilmember in your face, Jimin. It was not only classist and elitist, it was also cruel considering both your history and our friendship.”

Jimin considers you for a few long beats. “Is that how you really see me? As someone who doesn’t have a say in your life because of my status?” His face is strained, and Yoongi can tell he’s holding back his hurt.

“Oh, no, Jimin. I was just lashing out, and you were there.” Your face crumples. “Of course I value your opinion — both on my personal life and about our Tranquil Valley duties. I truly am so sorry.”

“Why were you lashing out?” Jimin asks, “and what’s to stop you from doing that again?”

Yoongi thinks he sees genuine pain and hurt in your eyes, but before he can wonder why you are hurt when it is Jimin and him who were the injured parties, you answer.

“I suppose that’s fair.” You seem distinctly more ill at ease, as if you’re trying to figure out what story to spin them to make this line of questioning go away as quickly as possible. “I — I was upset at the idea of you two discussing me. I know you were both concerned, but it felt — I don’t know how to explain it. It felt like I was on the outside, like you two were a team and I was not.”

“That’s stupid,” Yoongi says before he can stop himself.

Your head snaps up and he cannot decipher your expression. He suddenly realizes that as much as he knows you, there is still so much he does not.

“Well, sorry you have such a stupid wife,” you say so matter of factly that it takes Yoongi several beats before your sarcasm registers, “but that’s the reason, or as best as I can explain it.”

Jimin and Taehyung keep glancing back and forth between you and Yoongi. It is clear that there are also unresolved issues in his marriage and he is somewhat embarrassed that this is being carried out in front of a stranger. He wishes again that Jimin had come alone, and his gut tells him that Taehyung is here for more than just emotional support.

You refocus your attention on Jimin. “I’m sorry it’s not more specific. But truly, I love and care about you so much. I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you and I understand if you can no longer trust me.” You pause and grimace as you look at Yoongi. “I’m also so sorry if what I said has ruptured your relationship with Yoongi.”

This time, Yoongi looks away. He does not want you to know just how angry he still is at you. Instead, he watches Jimin. He misses Jimin with his entire being.

Jimin does not move for several long moments and to your credit, you do not rush him or pressure him to accept your apology.

Yoongi hopes (even though he knows that perhaps he has none).

“I see,” Jimin finally says.

A look of regret flashes across his angelic face and Yoongi knows. He knows Jimin does not love him in the same way Yoongi does (and perhaps always will).

“Taehyung asked me to be his husband. I agreed.”

Yoongi hears himself gasp. You tentatively place your hand on his arm, but he shakes you off. He feels as if he’s underwater.

“I thought you said you’d never get married again,” Yoongi spits. He knows he is being ridiculous. Plenty of non-married councilmembers fuck each other. There is no rule that prohibits it. Except, some foolish part of him had hoped that perhaps one day, when Jimin wanted to settle down, he would settle with Yoongi and you. “Is this because of what Y/N said? Did you miss running a city that much? We could have made space for you here.”

Yoongi doesn’t turn to look at your face even though he can feel you freeze by his side.

He knows he has never discussed this with you — and truthfully, it’s not common for there to be triad representatives in a marriage, but it’s not unheard of either. Usually, triads and even quads are reserved for large, bustling metropolises, not sleepy little townships nestled in picturesque valleys.

Either way, the point is now moot. Jimin is marrying Taehyung.

“I realized recently that if I hate the council so much, I can change it,” Jimin says, his voice trembling with emotion, “but the only way to change it is from the inside.”

“So this is a political move?” Yoongi asks.

He asks because though Jimin has never said so, Yoongi has always hoped the wandering witch returned his feelings. He has always hoped that one day, when Jimin was ready, they could all settle down together in Tranquil Valley.

“It is political,” confirms Jimin as he straightens himself, as if his body could lend his voice resolution, “and it is also more. Taehyung loves me.”

Yoongi cannot bear it. “I love you,” he grates out, uncaring that you and Taehyung are witnessing the first outward confession of his heart.

Grief steals into Jimin’s eyes right before he glances away, refusing to meet Yoongi’s gaze. His Jimin, who when they’d made love, would force Yoongi to look him in the eyes as he came.

You and Taehyung avert your eyes, too. As if your not looking provides him the dignity he’s abandoned. As if your not looking makes the fact that Jimin does not want him anymore less true.

It is not enough.

“I know,” Jimin says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi tries to salvage the situation. Jimin has not said he loves Taehyung (though he also has not said he loves Yoongi). Perhaps, they can at least continue their arrangement.

“Where is Taehyung’s city?” Yoongi hates how his voice is so raw and hopeful.

Jimin winces. “It’s in the Southern Territories,” he says to the floor, “a 5 hour flight from Tech City. There are talks of the Witches’ Council forming a southern council and letting the Southern Territories self-govern.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi does not bother hiding the hurt in his voice. He is reeling and all he wants is to go back to thirty minutes prior when he was driving home, anticipating some kimchi jjigae and sinking into his mattress, lonely but still dreaming of companionship with Jimin. “I thought we were at least friends?”

“I — I’m telling you now.” Jimin stutters. Yoongi has never known the younger witch to stumble. Perhaps, this is affecting Jimin more than he is letting on. “I know it seems sudden, and I suppose it is,” he explains. “But after what Y/N said — how I wasn’t part of your Tranquil Valley, how I wasn’t even a councilmember anymore —”

Jimin cuts himself off and stares at his hands which are currently hidden in the frayed sleeves of his oversized hoodie. Yoongi vaguely registers that it’s one he gave Jimin years ago.

Taehyung leans in even closer to Jimin and whispers in his ear. Jimin’s dark lashes flutter and Yoongi feels twin daggers twist in his heart and gut. Jimin used to flutter his lashes for him, his cock heavy in Yoongi’s mouth, his hooded gaze pinning Yoongi down while he thrust. Yoongi hates how he remembers exactly how Jimin’s lush lips used to glisten, parted to pant his name or pinched between Jimin’s teeth.

A wave of despair crashes over Yoongi and he grits his teeth. He’s flustered and frustrated at his reaction. He is normally not so emotional. He knows that love is not usually in the cards for witch representatives, that the nature of their duties prevents them from what the rest of their world considers normal, healthy relationships.

Yoongi’s younger self had not cared, had been more than satisfied to run a town in his parents’ footsteps, to have meaning in his work, to have companionship with you and his carnal needs met by other people. He had thought Jimin would be a convenient melding of friendship and physicality. Yoongi had not expected to love him, had not expected for love to come in his thirties when Yoongi had never before loved anyone.

Yoongi did not love until he did and now that he does, he regrets. He thinks that perhaps you have the right of it, never attaching yourself to a particular person or even seeking a paramour.

He reels himself in, forcing himself to call upon over thirteen years of dealing with irate citizenry or pompous councilmembers trying to lure him into pissing contests. Yoongi forces himself to remember that it is not about him, that though his heart is breaking, it’s Jimin’s life, and ultimately, he wants Jimin to be happy.

He gentles his voice. “Jimin-ah, if you think this will make you happy, then I’m happy for you.” When Jimin lifts an eyebrow in disbelief, he adds, “I wish you had told me when you were considering this, but a lot of it is because I hate the idea of you struggling with this alone.”

“Taehyung helped,” Jimin says.

Yoongi pretends that it doesn’t cut deep. He can make it through the next few seconds, the next few minutes, the next few hours.

Taehyung has the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t do much,” he mumbles in a deliciously low voice. Yoongi hates that he can’t help but notice. “Whatever my family can do to help you in spearheading change, we will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Your family?” you ask. “And who is your family?”

It is only when you speak that Yoongi recalls that you are still here. You have been so quiet, so still — almost as if you wanted to disappear and give him as much privacy as you could.

Taehyung’s honey-colored skin deepens. “Ah,” he says as he clears his throat. “I’m from the southern Kim clan.”

Your eyes widen. “As in Kim Magus Industries and Kim Thaumaturgical Enterprises?” Your face suddenly screws in suspicion and Yoongi cannot help but be grateful. “How did you end up at Jimin’s elementary school? He grew up in the Western Territories.”

Taehyung hesitates before deciding to share. “There were some succession issues when I was small,” he explains. “They sent me with my mother’s youngest sister to live somewhere far away to protect me.”

“Her youngest sister?” you scoff. “Sounds like they weren’t particularly concerned.”

“My imo is Seong-Min Chae.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe, immediately recognizing the name of one of the most powerful elemental witches in modern times. “I stand corrected.” You sweep your eyes over Taehyung as if with renewed respect.

Yoongi takes this moment to more carefully look over Taehyung in his brown cabled sweater, maroon corduroys, and black woolen socks. His hair is a white blond with a centimeter of black roots. He doesn’t look like he’s from one of the richest and most powerful witch families of the last century.

“And is the succession issue adequately resolved? Will Jimin be in any danger?” you doggedly continue, as if trying to make up for your prior behavior.

Taehyung regards you approvingly even as Jimin rolls his eyes. Yoongi knows that Jimin is likely chafing at your protectiveness. Jimin hates being perceived as weak, hates showing any sort of weakness.

“You have my word that Jimin will be more than safe and secure with me. No one will dare fuck with the Kim heir and his husband,” Taehyung says, his soft tone belying the steel in his words. “My family would annihilate them.”

“That, um, seems adequate,” you choke and shake your head ruefully. You sigh. “Well, I did ask.”

Yoongi wants to hate Taehyung, but even he cannot deny that is more than Yoongi could ever hope to provide. And if Jimin truly wants to change the council from the inside, the Kim clan would be the muscle and money influencing decisions. Loath as Yoongi is to admit that outside powers have any sway over councilmembers, everyone knows that is patently untrue. The only reason you and Yoongi are generally unaffected is because Tranquil Valley is too small to be considered worth affecting.

“We’ll do whatever we can to help,” Yoongi finally offers, “but you have to tell us. No more shutting us out, Jimin.”

“He can shut us out if he wants to, Yoongi,” you interject softly. “We hope you don’t. We hope to be worthy of your trust, but I understand if there are times you cannot or choose not to. For all the changes you wish to push, you will have your own city to worry about and consider first.”

Yoongi wants to glare at you, to scowl and throw a tantrum like he did as a child. Except he knows you are right. He knows that once a witch ascends to the council, they are no longer their own. Their people, their land, their city — they all clamor for priority so much so that Yoongi sometimes forgets that he is his own person. It is a huge reason why he’d found such solace in Jimin.

Jimin had just been for him.

Jimin nods and accepts your offer graciously. “I will do my best.”

His face rifles through expressions so rapidly that Yoongi only recognizes them because he has spent so many hours studying Jimin’s ethereal face. Yoongi cannot decide if he prefers Jimin vulpine and predatory or tender and vulnerable. He is unsure if he has ever seen Jimin truly with his guard down and Yoongi’s heart pangs.

Jimin clears his throat. “We’ve taken enough of your time.” He picks up his neglected tea cup and gulps down a few tepid sips. “Thank you for your apology, Y/N,” he adds for your benefit and something in your posture loosens, sagging in relief. It is a small thing, but Yoongi notices. “And Yoongi,” Jimin starts before stopping, his tenor voice hitching with emotion.

You suddenly stand. “Taehyung, would you mind helping me clear the dishes?”

To Taehyung’s credit and Yoongi’s surprise, Taehyung unwraps his body from Jimin, collects a few cups and then follows you into the kitchen.

Yoongi shivers.

Jimin reaches across the coffee table for Yoongi’s hands and Yoongi lets him. He does not want to admit that he is busy memorizing the feel of Jimin’s smaller hands in his larger ones. He does not want to cling, to beg for one more night of mapping out Jimin’s body with his palms and tongue.

Yoongi is afraid to make eye contact, but he is more afraid to lose this chance to drink in Jimin’s warm, brown eyes. He wills himself not to tremble, to not reveal himself as he did so gracelessly before.

“Do you love him?” he inquires before he can stop himself. There goes Yoongi’s resolve to not reveal himself.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” Jimin says, all honey and regret. “I was a coward.” Yoongi notes that Jimin does not answer his question. “I was afraid you would talk me out of it.”

Yoongi flinches. He removes his hands even though he immediately wants Jimin to regrasp them. “Do you think me so selfish?”

Jimin shrugs. “I know how love goes,” he tosses carelessly.

“That man did not love you,” Yoongi snarls. At Jimin’s nonchalant waving off of his words, he feels a throbbing build at the base of his skull. He does not want to argue. (It is an old argument, at any rate.) “I’m sorry,” he utters, though he is not sure what exactly he is sorry for. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, and he means it.

Yoongi watches as Jimin gets up from the couch and settles next to Yoongi on the loveseat. Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi and nestles his face in the curve where Yoongi’s neck meets his shoulder. Yoongi hates how weak he is. He hates how he cannot help but embrace Jimin, desperate to have the man he loves enfolded and clasped to his chest.

Yoongi breathes Jimin in, letting his scent of light gardenia and tuberose wash over him. He hates how even now, even knowing that you and Taehyung are in the next room over, Yoongi wants. He wants to run away and use his magic to construct a fortress or castle or both and sequester himself with Jimin to love and to fuck for the rest of his life.

For the first time he can recall, he despises their societal strictures. He hates how his foolish, younger self dismissed love out of hand, consigning it to lesser mortals who did not have his sense of duty (filial or otherwise). He does not think his parents ever loved each other, though they had seemed congenial enough. They have long since retired and gone their separate ways and Yoongi hates how what had seemed so normal to him at the time now strikes him as cruel.

He suddenly realizes he does not want the life his parents had and set as an example for him. Yoongi does not know what this means. He only knows that the love of his life is holding him (or is Yoongi holding Jimin) and the thought of living the rest of his life with you and no prospect of Jimin makes him want to scream.

Yoongi chokes back a sob and Jimin leans back to cup his face, using his thumbs to wipe at Yoongi’s cheeks. Yoongi had not even noticed that he’d been crying this whole time.

“If I could love, I would have liked to love you, Yoongi,” Jimin says.

It is cruel. It is merciful.

Yoongi does not think it is remotely true though perhaps Jimin doesn’t want to leave him with nothing. Perhaps this is the best Jimin can do.

“I’m glad Taehyung loves you,” Yoongi says, shocking himself even as he realizes it is true. “You deserve love, Jimin-ah,” he continues, “and I hope even if you don’t love him, that you can feel it deep in your bones. I’m glad he already told you and didn’t hide it like I did. You should be loved. You should know that you’re loved.”

Jimin huffs. “I never knew you were such a sentimental sap.” He aims for light and teasing except somehow, he misses the mark. Instead, Jimin sounds full of wonder and confusion.

“I guess that’s your effect on people.”

Yoongi wants to curl up and die. How can such ridiculous words flow from his mouth with all sincerity and no irony whatsoever?

Jimin lifts his hand and places a finger lightly on Yoongi’s lower lip. Yoongi resists the overwhelming urge to flick out his tongue and taste Jimin one last time. As if reading his mind, Jimin slowly cants forward and places a soft kiss over his own finger and Yoongi sighs at the slight contact on his mouth. Before he knows it, Jimin has slipped his finger away and deepened the kiss and Yoongi, greedy fool that he is, drinks Jimin in one last time.

All too soon, Jimin pulls away, his eyes glassy and hazy with want. Yoongi swallows and desperately wishes he could swallow Jimin and keep him for himself.

“Goodbye, Yoongi,” Jimin whispers and then heads to the kitchen.

Yoongi is alone.

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Yoongi moves as if in a stupor for the next few days. You don’t say anything and though he thinks he keeps his feelings tightly wrapped, thinks none of his devastation leaks down your psychic connection, there is one moment after he’s awakened from a particularly heartbreaking dream where he thinks he feels comfort and consolation pulse down to him. He immediately falls back asleep (though now that he thinks about it, that seems odd) and Yoongi later tucks that memory away to examine when he’s in a better headspace.

He struggles to get out of bed and he vaguely recalls you taking on all his in-person meetings and going into town on his behalf. It’s something you only do when he is too sick to meet safely with people, and because he is rarely sick thanks to your brews, you’ve rarely had to do so.

Yoongi is not sick now, but still, you go.

His meals magically appear (literally) and tisanes are pressed to his lips when he wakes, boneless and dried out from all his tears. And then on the fifth day, he wakes up right after sunrise, runs a steaming hot shower, and then plods downstairs to make you breakfast.

When you show up about ten minutes later, eyes half open and hair in a messy pile on your head, you pause in confusion. Your sleeping shirt is wrinkled and your flannel pajama pants are slouchy and clearly too long. (In fact, he suspects those are actually his missing ones. They look familiar.) You grunt something that resembles a garbled “morning,” plonk down at the nook and promptly cradle your head in your arms, closing your eyes as if you’re in pain.

Considering how much you hate mornings, Yoongi suspects that might actually be the case.

When he slides a plate of french toast, sausage links, and cut fresh fruit in front of you, you finally stir and show some signs of life. You prop your face up with a reluctant palm and your cheek is adorably squished. You groan and make grabby hands in his direction and Yoongi finds himself amused for the first time in days.

“Yes, yes, I’ve got your coffee,” he says agreeably and carefully sets a mug of your chosen poison (no sugar, a splash of oat milk) in your impatient hands.

He brings his own plate of food over along with his iced Americano (it doesn’t matter how cold the weather is, he always has his coffee cold and black) and sits in his regular seat across from you. It’s a bit jarring to have you with him in the morning, but he finds that he does not mind.

Yoongi has missed you.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he begins to say but is unable to continue when you grunt and grumble what he guesses is “Let’s never speak of this again,” and so he does not finish.

He smiles and eats in companionable silence with you.

When he gets up to clear the dishes, you wave him away with marginally more energy and remind him of the meeting he has with the Garcias in town. You hate the Garcias. (You find them way too pushy and entitled, but Yoongi just thinks they’re enthusiastic and invested. The truth is likely somewhere in between.)

He goes upstairs to his room, changes the sheets and then changes into his “town” uniform of thick lined jeans, heattech shirt, and a black and gray flannel shirt. He snorts when he realizes the ungodly amount of flannel he owns and then shrugs because it’s winter. Of course he has to wear flannel. He smiles when he pulls on a pair of socks and hears you in his mind griping about how he should wear socks first then pants.

His heart is still sore, but he remembers that he chose his life and when he’s not moping over Jimin, he actually likes it.

Yoongi fishes around for his favorite beanie and startles when he realizes you knit it for him years ago. If he looks carefully, he can see the warmth and dry spells you neatly stitched into the charcoal gray hat. Though you do not accompany him into town, you cover him all the same.

When he comes home late that night, covered bowls of galbi jjim, steamed rice, and various banchan are laid out on the kitchen table, spelled to stay at the right temperatures for him. He putters around and finds you in your workroom, bent over the heavy wooden work table, peering at some bit of machinery under a warm, yellow lamp.

“I know you already ate, but do you want to join me for dinner?” he asks from the doorway.

You blink owlishly when you look up, the magnifying loupes on your spectacles ballooning your eyes to cartooned proportions. Yoongi suddenly feels a rush of affection for you. He wonders why he had thought the two of you strained, but then he remembers and his smile falters.

Your eyes narrow and you remove your glasses quickly, settling them on your table, heedless of all the assorted gears and gadgets scattered on the surface. “Just gimme a sec to wash up,” you say, and Yoongi heads back to the kitchen to wait.

When you show up a few minutes later, you seem to debate whether or not to ask how he is doing. Yoongi knows you are curious, but he also knows that he can’t handle that sort of intimacy right now. You seem to read the sentiment on his face and ask instead how the meeting with the Garcias went and the tight knot in Yoongi’s stomach settles.

He tells you about how the Garcias want to close off one of the main streets and form a short promenade on weekend nights.

He eats the galbi jjim and slurps up the soup.

He is warm.

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When he shuffles downstairs the next morning, you are already there, glasses sitting crooked on your nose and doggedly trying not to yawn (but failing) as you make jook. Yoongi ambles to the family room, grabs his laptop, and brings it to the kitchen table, taking care of the more urgent emails before he puts it away and sets the table.

When he gets home later that evening, you have two servings of grilled cheese and tomato soup at the table.

He goes to your workroom and invites you to dinner.

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It goes like this for days until it is no longer out of the ordinary, until it is now the new way of things. Yoongi recalls how the two of you had spent the early years like this until it slowly hadn’t been. He muses you two must have been slowly but surely drifting away like this new routine is slowly but surely coming together. You’d likely slept in one morning and then, one morning became two and then became all of them. He’d likely come home late for dinner one night and then two nights, and then it was many of his nights.

It has worked fine until now. It likely still would have been fine had it continued (except Yoongi is glad that it has not).

Yoongi likes how the two of you have always been attuned, circling and touching each other at the edges of your daily living. Except now, now the two of you are recalibrating your schedules, attuning them to each other in the new normal.

He knows not everything is magically fixed. He knows that one day soon, you two should address what happened all those months ago, but he also knows that it is unlikely to happen. Whatever it was that had you so upset and emotional all those months prior seems to no longer be an issue.

He is not sure why his subconscious whispers for him to pay attention, but he once again shelves it for another day.

His subconscious still whispers too much at night. His dreams are still sad and he still wakes up with tears tracking down his face. He still falls back asleep with a strange sense of comfort that reaches through walls and the edge of consciousness.

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“Y/N, do you enjoy our consummations?” asks Yoongi one day as the two of you are cleaning up after dinner. It’s been at least half a year since Jimin’s left and he doesn’t know what has come over him.

That is not quite true. Yoongi knows.

Yoongi hasn’t had a truly good orgasm in almost a year and he’s going to go crazy.

It’s not for lack of trying. He knows he cleans up well, that men and women alike go sort of crazy when he pulls his long locks into a half ponytail. He knows that despite his soft and snuggly insides, he projects a sort of savagery that he doesn’t dispel when he is on the prowl. He leans heavy into his inner asshole and it’s like a beacon, drawing all sorts of options to him.

Except, well, it’s been thoroughly unsatisfactory.

Yoongi is desperate.

“What?” you query from your spot at the farmhouse sink. You are up to your elbows in suds and your spectacles are once again askew.

Yoongi wipes down the kitchen table and repeats himself. “Do you enjoy our consummations?”

“I mean, I guess?” you reply, quirking your head at him.

“If you don’t know, that means you do not.”

“I don’t not enjoy them,” you say after a few more moments of thought. “I’m not sure why that matters though. Unless there is new research that shows enjoyment makes for better harvests?”

Of course you would consider the harvest first and not your own pleasure. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s proud of how responsible you are or aggravated that you don’t seem to care much for your own physical gratification. He briefly wonders if you perhaps have never had an orgasm and thus, it doesn’t matter because you don’t know what you’re missing. Then he rebukes himself. He knows sexuality is a spectrum and not everyone derives pleasure from the act. As long as he doesn’t hurt you during your quarterly consummations, he should be satisfied.

Except he finds that he is not. It seems criminal that you do not particularly enjoy having sex with him (though if he is honest, he doesn’t particularly enjoy having sex with you, either).

“No, there’s no research,” he acknowledges.

Yoongi wants to lie, but there are no new studies he can cite (at least none that he knows of). He’s not even sure if consummations are anything other than a holdover from the old ways. He is not convinced they make any difference to the harvest, but he is not bold enough to risk his town’s food supply on a hunch.

He decides to let the matter lie and gathers the broom to sweep the floor.

“Do — do you find our consummations enjoyable?” you ask hesitantly.

You seem concerned, and Yoongi feels somewhat ashamed for causing you to question your performance. He also cannot bring himself to lie. He is flummoxed.

“I find it enjoyable enough to complete the ritual,” he says.

You rinse off the remaining dishes and Yoongi thinks that’s the end of that. Your brow furrows. “That’s not quite the same as finding it pleasurable though, is it?”

Yoongi returns the broom to the mudroom attached to the kitchen. “No,” he says when he re-enters the kitchen. “No, it’s not.”

You shake water off the teal dishwashing gloves and slip them off, folding them over the lip of the sink. He watches as you wash your hands and dry them on the checkered dish towel. You shift to lean against the wooden counter as if you need to brace yourself.

“Is — is pleasure during the ritual so very important to you?”

Your face is carefully blank, and Yoongi realizes that you are hurt though he is not sure why. After all, he is not hurt by your lack of pleasure.

“It’s not a criticism,” he says quickly, but your face remains withdrawn. “Your performance is within our ritual parameters. I have no complaints.”

You chuckle mirthlessly. “Yes, I can see that.” You seem to shrink inside your peach colored sweatshirt and knee-length lounge pants and Yoongi’s heart contracts.

“I’ve hurt you,” he says. You do not react to his statement and Yoongi is unprepared for just how sorry he feels. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to.”

You turn your face so he can only rely on the way your back is ramrod straight to give you away. “You haven’t,” you say, except Yoongi knows you are lying.

You are quiet and Yoongi doesn’t know what to say and so he, too, remains quiet.

“Are you not receiving sufficient physical pleasure in your supplemental activities?” you finally ask, still not quite facing him. “Is this why you suddenly ask about my pleasure after almost fifteen years? Surely if it were that important to you, you would have mentioned it sooner?”

Yoongi is chastened.

“I’ve tried,” he says defeatedly, knowing he is caught. “But it’s — I can’t — I hate it.” He hangs his head and slumps into the kitchen nook. He resists the urge to sink his head into his awaiting palms. Instead, he swallows his pride and regards you with his dignity in tatters. “Do you think we could — that is, would you be willing to — maybe if I made it good for you —”

You flinch imperceptibly. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you say, cutting him off.

He is marginally grateful you do not allow him to finish his request. It is humiliating. He is not a man with so little self-control, but he’s also never had such difficulty slaking his needs.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer we keep our consummations as is,” you disclose. “You receive adequate satisfaction as is required, and I am satisfied when the ritual is performed correctly in accordance to our duties.”

You make to move closer to him but change your mind.

“I’m not Jimin, Yoongi,” you add, a tremor in your voice. “I can’t be Jimin even if I knew how.”

This time, it is Yoongi who flinches.

“You think I don’t know that?” he unintentionally snarls. It’s been so many months and yet, still, he is heartsore and heartsick. Your presence has helped, but you are right. You are no Jimin. Jimin is the blaze of a wildfire, an inferno that turns him into kindling. You are the muted warmth of a candle, a comfort in the dark. “You think I’m not trying to get over him?”

You sigh and cross the room to join him at the table. “It’s all my fault,” you confess faintly. “If I had not reached for more than was my allotment in life — if I had not coveted — if I had only been content with the status quo, this would have never happened.”

Your words tickle a memory but Yoongi can’t quite seem to place it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks.

He takes a strange sort of satisfaction at seeing you visibly quail at his demand for clarification.

“Jimin was — is — the love of my life,” he states evenly though he wants to wail. He lets anger and frustration sink their hooks into him. “I deserve to know what you mean.”

You regard him, eyes veiled even as you meet his own. “Hasn’t this last year or so between us been nice?” you ask feebly. “I mean, other than the thing with Jimin.”

“You mean other than my heart breaking?” cries Yoongi. Confusion and hurt swirl in his chest, and the pressure makes his lungs feel too tight.

You remove your glasses and fiddle with them instead of looking at him. You take a deep, steadying breath. “I was jealous,” you finally divulge, and it is the last thing Yoongi expects to hear.

“You were jealous?” he repeats.

“And insecure,” you say. You flick your wary eyes to him. “I always feel that way around Jimin.”

That niggling feeling that he’s forgetting something is back, but Yoongi can’t think and listen at the same time. “But you love Jimin.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive.”

You pull the sleeves of your vermillion shirt down over your palms. It is not quite time for the harvest moon consummation, but there is already a slight chill on some nights and the kitchen window is open.

Yoongi gets up to shut the window. He leans against the sill instead of sitting back down.

“Why? What could you possibly have to feel insecure about? You’re an amazing witch,” he observes, genuinely puzzled.

You shiver despite the window being closed. “Because you love him.” Your voice comes out as a ragged whisper.

Yoongi cannot compute your words. He hears what you do not say, but his mind balks. “But we’re married.”

“Now you’re just being purposely obtuse. You know it’s not a choice I would make.” Your face is agony. “It is inconvenient at best. Ruinous at worst.”

“And so, what? I don’t love you like I love Jimin and you wanted to hurt me for it?” Yoongi is being unfair, but he seems to have temporarily lost control of his filter.

Your countenance shatters. “That’s not — I would never —” You pause.

He hates how you can rein your tongue now. Why could you not have done so that horrible, horrible day?

“It hurt, okay?” you spit out. “It was mortifying for me to hear you discussing my poorly hidden emotions about Jimin with Jimin and I lost it.” Your outburst fizzles out as quickly as it flares up. “I’m a person, too, okay?” you continue plaintively. “I have feelings and they’re messy and I didn’t want to hurt Jimin or you but it happened and I have to live with that.”

Yoongi feels sick. It’s as if you’ve suddenly snapped into focus, and the change in his emotional depth of field unseats him. You’ve tilted his world, and he can’t right himself quite just yet.

He rests his hands on the sill and grips them, the wood digging into his palms. The bite grounds him.

“I’m sorry I wrecked everything.” You sound and look miserable.

Yoongi is torn between wanting to comfort you and wanting you to suffer. He needs to get his shit together. “I think I need to process all of this and go to sleep. I need to help with the harvest again tomorrow,” he gruffs. “We can discuss it another time.” He pushes off the wooden sill and brushes imaginary lint off his heavy duty work pants (work pants you spelled with durability and stain resistance).

You nod, your face a grimace. “Ok,” you agree meekly.

It is your meekness that angers him the most.

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Tomorrow comes, but despite you waking up early to eat breakfast with Yoongi as you are now accustomed to doing, he has already left. You tell yourself that he just wants to get a jump on the day’s work, but you don’t believe it.

You stare at the bowl of grits, the two eggs over medium and sausage crumbles Yoongi had added on top along with some wilted greens. You stare at your coffee (no sugar, a splash of oat milk). You mechanically eat and drink your breakfast. It is warm and hot and though it is filling, you taste nothing.

You go about your daily tasks and prepare a large batch of bath bombs for Yoongi to use and soak his weary muscles. You brew restorative potions and prepare salves for his bad shoulder.

That night, you wait up for him and fall asleep at the kitchen table. When you wake up the next morning, your back aching and head all cottony, you see last night’s beef and Guinness stew, wild mushroom tartlet, and Yoongi’s tonic untouched before you.

It is still warm.

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On the morning of the harvest consummation, you drag yourself out of bed. The sun is already high in the sky and you would feel guilty, but there is no one to apologize to. There is no one waiting for you in the kitchen.

You only know that Yoongi will be home tonight because he has never been unable to fulfill his equinox and solstice duties.

You are busy with finalizing details for the upcoming harvest festival and tell yourself that once the busyness passes, you and Yoongi will return to normal. Not for the first time are you grateful that modern consummation rites do not require an audience of townspeople.

You would not be able to bear it.

By the time late evening rolls around, you have already gathered the offerings of grain, meat, fruit, and wine. You have purified your body in the ceremonial baths and have slathered all the sacred oils and emollients on your body. You have lined your eyes with kohl and slipped into the perfumed robes. You go to the back of your cottage near the holy copse of trees and light fires in the deep bronze bowls of the ceremonial fire pits.

You lay down a thick sheepskin on the grass in the center of the circle of braziers. On the ground by its side, you place a flask of clove oil, some small washcloths, and two bottles of water.

Yoongi is late.

You normally would not be worried except these past few weeks, you have barely seen him and when you did, he wouldn’t speak to you. It was worse than the cautious avoidance of last year. At least then he had been worried about you in addition to being angry.

This time, however. This time, it feels like hate. Or worse: indifference. It feels like neglect. It feels like dereliction of duty.

You wrack your brain for consummation protocols for instances of a lone witch representative. You know you and Yoongi have lucked out over your term, neither of you ever being too sick to perform. (You also know that you have somehow dodged pregnancy all these years and part of you is melancholy and part of you is relieved. You are not allowed to prevent conception during the rite. Its power stems from fertility, and so many councilmembers conceive during these quarterly congresses.)

You check your texts but Yoongi hasn’t sent you any.

The thought that he has abandoned you, has left his position to chase after Jimin, slides its way into your mind, oily and insidious. You don’t think that is the type of person Yoongi is, but you are admittedly not in the best frame of mind right now.

You order your brain to shut up and look up the consummation rituals for a solo witch, hoping desperately that it does not require you to find a partner. After some searching, you find that the main requirement in the ritual is an orgasm — and not even a male one (which makes sense when you think about it, otherwise, how did Chirawan and Saanvi manage all those years?).

You’d forgotten mostly because it’s incredibly difficult for you to climax, especially during penetrative sex. In fact, you’re not sure that you ever have. It is in great part why you don’t particularly care for sex and ultimately, why Yoongi’s orgasm has been your focus all these years. (And even then, you just assume Yoongi knows what to do and you are more of the receptacle than an active participant.)

When the reality of the situation hits you, you lowkey begin to panic. You rarely masturbate and even then, you don’t really see the point because you don’t come more often than you do. (And yes, you’ve tried all sorts of toys and watched all sorts of films. You’re just not wired that way. It normally doesn’t bother you.)

You glance at the time and it’s nearing the lunar culmination. It’s best practice to have the ritual complete as near as possible to when the moon reaches its apex position in the sky and you haven’t even thrown the offerings on the fire.

You run back into the cottage and up the stairs to your room. You rummage through your dresser drawer and finally find a tiny vibrator that you hope still has a remaining charge. You turn it on and the smooth machine quivers to life. You suppose it will have to do.

You go back outside and set the intimate massager on a washcloth. Then you take a few cleansing breaths and try to silence the worry coursing through your veins. It is only the psychic link that prevents you from complete panic. If Yoongi’d been harmed or injured — or worse yet, if he was no longer on this plane — you’d know. You’d feel it.

You offer the grain and throw it in the bowl over the designated fire pit. If Yoongi were here, he’d boost the fire and the grain would roast quickly. As he is not, you wait and when it is ready, you take a few grains in your mouth to eat and then leave the rest to burn.

Next, you place the meat on its designated fire pit and again, because Yoongi is not here to manipulate the fire and heat, you have to wait for the meat to cook naturally. When the steak is at about medium rare, you carefully slice a piece and slip it into your mouth. Again, you leave the rest to burn.

You slice a perfectly ripe pear and close your eyes as you consume it, letting its sandy sweetness wash over your tongue. You place the pear in another fire pit and watch the flames consume the fruit, the blaze flaring and sizzling when the juice evaporates.

Lastly, you pour a cup of pomegranate wine that you’d made from last year’s pomegranate crop. You down the whole thing and lick your lips. If Yoongi were here, he would sip the wine first, then take a mouthful and transfer it into yours. After you’d swallow, he would lick any wine that escaped down your chin or neck, and you would do the same for him. You surprise yourself by missing that part of the rite the most. You pour some of the wine into the fire, careful not to douse the flames. Then you pour the rest out onto the ground before the fire.

You look around your surroundings, hoping Yoongi has appeared since the start of the ceremony, but he has not. You walk to the sheepskin, remove the robe, laying it carefully on the grass. Your bare skin breaks out into goosebumps thanks to the chilly air. If Yoongi were here, he would physically warm the air so that neither of you would be cold, but alas, he is not, and so, you shiver.

Your belly churns with nerves, and you lie down on the sheepskin. You feel cold and exposed, and you hate it. You drizzle the clove oil on your fingers. It’s blessedly warm thanks to the spellwork you’d etched on the bottle. You tentatively stroke your belly and the insides of your thighs, working up the courage to touch your core.

Some time passes and you don’t feel any more relaxed or aroused. You are annoyed that you’d never thought to spell in more aphrodisiac-like properties into the oil, but you suppose Yoongi had never complained and you had never particularly seen the need for it.

You check the location of the moon in the sky above you and are dismayed to find that it has risen considerably. You need to get a move on, but you don’t feel any closer to a climax than you did when you’d started. In fact, it’s quite possible you are even less ready.

You reach for the vibrator and though it isn’t unpleasant, it’s not what you need to complete the ritual. The more you press, the more it starts to sting and hurt. You feel the edges of hysteria start and you turn the vibrator off, casting it aside in disgust.

You remind yourself that there is no actual deadline to your orgasm, that as long as someone climaxes, the ritual is complete.

You reach back into your memory for the calming exercises Saanvi had taught you all those years ago to prepare you for your initial consummation practices with Yoongi. You had been a virgin, having never cared to explore sex prior to your duties, and the prospect of your first time being with someone who you were just getting to know did not appeal at all.

You hear Saanvi’s soothing voice tell you to breathe, and so, you do. You inhale a deep breath, hold it for a count of five, and then let it go in a slow whoosh. You repeat the breathing exercise and again hear Saanvi telling you to notice the way your skin feels alive thanks to the cool air. You slowly run your fingers over your arms, your belly, and inner thighs, the light tickle teasing your senses alert.

The memory of Saanvi reminds you to sink into your sensations, to sit and receive versus chase. You lightly rub circles over your erect nipples, the cold already doing most of the work for you. You think of getting massages after a long day, of your muscles relaxing under Yoongi’s expert hands. Though those massages were strictly platonic, the pleasure of relieving tense muscles is still pleasure, and you grasp onto it.

You think of Yoongi’s hands, capable of great feats of elemental magic and yet so gentle, so nimble, so quick. Your thoughts inevitably slip to the rest of Yoongi. You remember his weight on you, how his black hair framed his kind face in artful waves when he fulfilled his duty and pumped into you. You remember the sounds of his and Jimin’s moans, the creaking of his bed and the smacking of lips and skin. You recall the echoes of his orgasm ripping through you, how you’d lain in your bed gasping and sweaty, burning with desire and need.

You reach for the vibrator again, but this time, instead of placing it directly on your clit, you first run the toy along your belly, your nipples, and your thighs. You add more clove oil and glide the vibrator along your folds, careful not to press too hard. You slowly drag the toy closer to your entrance and allow yourself to feel its vibrations deep in your body.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you begin to grind into the buzzing tool in your palm. You feel a tiny build up of discomfort in your gut, and you hope it is the stirrings of desire and not pain. You focus on the growing ache between your thighs and squirm, desperately wanting it to subside in a way that helps rather than hinders your plans.

The more you pay attention to your body’s pleasure, the more your pleasure builds. Your tentative touches become bolder, more assured, and your anticipation builds higher and more urgent. Eventually, you feel as if you are on the edge just waiting to tumble over, except no matter how hard you try, you can’t tip over.

You are so close, and just when you think you might weep from frustration, you feel a tantalizing breeze lick across your forehead, caress down your neck, swirl around your nipples, and then curl deliciously against your core like a breath.

Your eyes flash open and you see Yoongi kneeling on the edge of the sheepskin, sweaty and covered in grease. You open your mouth to protest when he admonishes, “Shhh, you’re doing so well, Y/N.” The gravel in his voice goes straight to your cunt, and you clench around emptiness.

“Yoongi,” you pant as you reach out to him, your hand clasping his thigh. “I can’t —”

“Let me help, Y/N,” he murmurs softly. “I can’t make the offering for us since I haven’t cleansed myself and we’re too close to the lunar peak, but I can help you. Will you let me help you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “yes.”

Yoongi shifts so that he is sat directly behind where your head lies. He pours clove oil on his hands and before you know it, his rough fingers massage your temples, ears, and neck.

You melt.

He leans down and you smell sweat and engine oil. He kisses down your hairline and then your jawline and his hair tickles your face. Your vibrator is still working steadily near your core and his hands move down your body to massage the area above your breasts and then your actual breasts.

You arch up to proffer him more of you, and Yoongi takes.

He plants kisses down the curve of your belly and his shirt hangs low from the hem, allowing you to look up and see the flat rounds of his nipples and the dusting of dark hair trailing from his belly button into the heavy material of his work pants. When he travels further down your body and stops at your sex, your nose is level with the thick bulge in his pants.

Your mouth aches but you do not move. He has not given you permission to touch him, and so you close your eyes.

The memory of it all falls out of your brain anyway when Yoongi breathes a low breath over where your vibrator is buzzing and you cannot hold in a tremble. His hands slide under your ass and grab, bringing your cunt closer to his face. He mouths wet kisses over your fingers, your labia, and your toy and you cannot bear all the sensation washing over you.

“May I?” he mumbles into the heart of you and when you gasp your consent, he takes the vibrator from your hand and slowly dips it into your center. You arch again and his wet heat closes over your clit.

He is so warm and hot and wet. The busy throbbing of the toy works you open and you have a sudden craving for something thick and long. Your desire coils in your belly and the grunts and whines he pulls from you would be embarrassing except you are so full of feeling, you cannot think enough to be self-conscious.

Yoongi flutters his tongue over the center of your desire a few times before he sucks and slurps so loudly, so juicily, so steadily, that you finally, finally break. He eats you out through the tsunami of endorphins until you push him away, unable to handle any more stimulation.

He plants another kiss on the inside of your knee and rolls to the side. Your immediate instinct is to cover yourself and hide, but before you can, Yoongi wets and warms a washcloth. He gently wipes your thighs and abdomen before he hands it to you to finish cleaning yourself off.

“I’m sorry, I was late, Y/N,” he says hoarsely.

He grabs himself a washcloth and wipes you off his mouth and face.

You sit up and reach for your robe, wrapping it around you. “For a moment, I thought you didn’t want to be my husband anymore. That this was your way of telling me you were stepping down from your position on the council.”

You hear him suck in a breath. “Even if I were still upset, I would never do that to you,” he says quietly.

“I know,” you say sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I’ve made you doubt my commitment to you and this position. I know I’ve been distant lately,” he says. “At first, it was because I needed space, but then, the harvest and all the extra work our people needed me to help with used up all my energy.”

You pull your robe even tighter and the air around you warms even more. You want to tell Yoongi that it’s okay, that he can release some of his magic because he must be exhausted, but you are wrung out. You allow him to take care of you in this small way. You allow him to make up for his withdrawnness these past few weeks.

“Today’s been the worst day,” he explains even as he’s gotten up and starts clearing the burnt remains in the fire pits. “They needed me to stay late and harvest with magic when one of the combines broke down. Of course, by the time I realized how late it was, I discovered I’d left my phone at home! And then the truck got a bad flat on the way back and somehow, I also got stuck in a ditch and had to first push the blasted thing out.”

You listen, interjecting your small grunts and hums to acknowledge his words. You lean into the familiar rise and falls of his low drawl and somewhere in there, you make a mental note to figure out how to spell his tires without the spellwork fading due to regular wear and tear.

He eventually stops talking and when he does, he gently escorts you back into the cottage, up the stairs, and tucks you into your bed. Alone.

“I promise I’m committed to you, Y/N,” he says quietly. “I get where you were coming from, and I know it must have been so difficult. I’m sorry I couldn’t support you better.”

You can’t decide whether you feel relief or compounded mortification and don’t reply.

Yoongi slips out your door and closes it with a soft click.

It is finally silent, and your mind catches on to what you have done. What you had allowed Yoongi to do to you.

You only know that every consummation in the future will be a mockery. How can you go through the motions of them, lying there bored and focused on the solemnity of the event until Yoongi spills into you when you now know how it could be?

You feel betrayed by your body, this same form you’ve embodied and had never been able to coax into a climax remotely close to what Yoongi did tonight.

You feel robbed.

You are a husk. A hollowed out facsimile of who you used to be.

You pull your covers over your head, curl into yourself, and cry.

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Yoongi staggers to the bathroom and efficiently strips himself. He stares at the hard-on he’s had since the moment he stumbled upon you splayed out in the clearing, close to coming but not able to get there on your own. He gets under the stinging hot water and slides a palm around his length as he closes his eyes. All he can think of is how you tasted, the slight sting of the clove oil on his tongue. He strokes himself to the memory of your softness under him, of your wanton mewls, and the echo of your climax reverberating down your psychic link.

Yoongi comes in thick, white ropes. The water sluices his release down the drain, the only evidence of his orgasm residing in his muddled, pheromone-high brain.

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When Yoongi heads to his truck the next morning after a hurried breakfast, he finds you squatting by his spare tire. You are writing in a very tiny, careful script with a fine-point Sharpie pen.

“I’m just going to replace the tire when I get into town,” he says, amused.

Without skipping a beat, you say, “Then this will take you into town safely. You know spare tires are spindly and worthless little things.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, “just so.” His heart aches in a queer sort of way as he watches you finish up the spell, stand up, and dust off your bottom.

“All set,” you say.

He grumbles his thanks and hops in the cab, settles his bag on the passenger side of the bench, and drives off. He does not understand why he keeps glancing back in the rear view mirror until you finally make your way inside.

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The days pass quickly. Yoongi’s life is an endless cycle of sleeping, eating, and working. His body is spent and so is his magic. He makes marginally more effort to get home early or text you updates throughout the day, but mostly, his mind is consumed with the physical work of harvesting and storing crops.

When the harvest festival finally comes and goes, Yoongi sleeps for a week straight.

Again, he has bleary memories of food and drink magically appearing by his bedside and the emptied dishes magically disappearing when he’s done. He knows the magic is you.

Even in the haze of sleep and rest, his depleted brain tries very hard to make him realize that the quiet ways you care for him should have made your love for him obvious from the start. In his rare moments of lucidity, he wonders if the way he cares for you is also love — and if it is, if it’s the same sort.

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“Are you getting up today or do you need one more day of being completely unconscious?” you ask from Yoongi’s doorway.

“Why?” he croaks as he barely lifts his head from his pillow, “do you need me to open a jar for you or something?”

“As if I need your help for things,” you scoff and then immediately color.

“Hmmmm,” he hums thoughtfully. He thumps his face back on the bed. His mind flashes to that night, of your slick body spread underneath the moonlight, of your desperate need and his offer to help.

You seem acutely embarrassed. “That doesn’t count,” you sputter.

“Cute,” he replies, gently teasing.

Yoongi doesn’t know why he goads you except that your scowl is all the reason he needs.

You tug at the frayed edge of your old sweater, which now that he thinks about it, seems awfully familiar. He thinks it’s one of his that went missing last fall.

“Is that my sweater?” he asks.

“What?” you stammer. “No! This is mine!”

Yoongi sits up, his blankets a mess around him. He squints and peers closer. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s my sweater. I’ve been looking for it.”

You peek down and lift your arms to examine the sweater more closely. “Oh, I suppose it might have belonged to you at one point.” You shift cagily. “Weird.”

“What else of my clothing do you want to steal?” He grins lazily. “Don’t think that I don’t know you also have my favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.”

This time, your expression is absolutely one of guilt.

Yoongi has a flash of mischief. He stretches and doesn’t miss the way your eyes drink him in. Then he pulls off his sleep shirt and throws it at you. “This one’s for free,” he says as he gets out of bed and stalks toward you.

He’s not even a little bit ashamed when you bolt down the hall to your room and slam the door.

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Yoongi’s cackles follow you into your room even as you are desperately trying to banish the images of his bare chest, his strength rippling under his skin. He isn’t buff or hugely muscular by any means, but he is broad and strong and solid.

He is safe. He is secure.

He is a menace.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s mocking you for loving him and needing his help that night, except that seems completely out of character. Instead, you choose to believe that it is his way of signaling to you that your feelings are okay.

Yoongi may not return them, but he’s comfortable with it — and he wants you to be comfortable with it, too.

You sniff his shirt. It is still warm from his body and smells of sweat, earth, and whatever is ineffably Yoongi.

He is a gift.

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“I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N,” Yoongi says as he clomps down the stairs.

You look up from your book. You are sprawled over the couch in the family room, trying to grab the sunny spot before it disappears and you have to turn on a light.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” you ask as you arrange yourself in a less dissolute position.

Yoongi sits down next to you on the sage green sofa. “For teasing you, I guess. About, you know,” he falters.

Apparently he can pester you but he can’t talk about it straight on. Interesting. You decide that you can be an adult about it. Especially if it will make him squirm more than you expected.

“About being in love with you or about you giving me an assist during the harvest moon consummation?” You tamp down your own need to squirm. You don’t enjoy talking about this in the open, but perhaps if you act as if it’s no big deal, Yoongi won’t bring it up anymore.

Yoongi unexpectedly lowers his face into his palms like he is shy all of a sudden. “Um, the ‘in love’ bit,” he replies. “The other night was to help you fulfill our duties. It was my fault for being so late anyway. Truthfully, you were covering for me.”

“That is true,” you say as if you’re considering his point (and you are). “But you were also fulfilling your obligations,” you add charitably.

“Look, I know I reacted poorly at first,” Yoongi expresses, “but at the time, it was all mixed up with Jimin in my mind.”

To your surprise, Yoongi’s words no longer feel accusatory. You don’t know if that is growth on his part or yours. Maybe both.

“And now?”

Yoongi flashes a bashful smile — a heady contrast to his smirky, cocky confidence from before. “Now, well, now I think it’s sweet.” He pushes up the sleeves of his black long sleeve tee and you can’t help but admire his corded forearms. “I keep thinking how I would have wanted Jimin to react to my loving him, and I think even if he didn’t love me back, I would’ve wanted him to be a good sport about it.”

“Yes, that’s what we would all hope for, our beloved being a good sport,” you intone dryly.

Yoongi shoots you a pointed look. “Well, obviously, we want them to love us back, but we can’t control how people feel.”

You hear the dual apology and warning in his words. “Do you still love him?”

“Sometimes, I think I do.” Yoongi shifts in his seat. “And sometimes, I think I love a memory and not the reality of him. We don’t talk as much as we used to, and I know marriage with Taehyung has changed him.”

“He’s different, but he’s still our Jimin,” you say, trying to comfort Yoongi. “Maybe the core of who you love is still there, but he just manifests differently.”

Yoongi leans forward slightly and then crinkles his brow. “I suppose you’re right.” He stands and his sleeves fall past his wrists. You try not to watch as he combs his fingers through his hair. “At any rate, I know how precious loving someone can be. And telling them you love them is entrusting them with a part of your heart.”

You quirk your head. He is perplexing. “I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to say, Yoongi,” you admit.

Yoongi rakes his fingers through his hair again, a little frustrated and, you think, also a little sheepishly. “I just mean that it means something to me, that you love me. That you trusted me enough to tell me.”

“Oh.” You feel your cheeks heat. You want to look away even as you’re not sure if you can.

“I’ll try to be worthy of your love is all,” he mutters, “to not betray your trust.”

“That — that’s actually really sweet of you.”

He muffles a curse. “Jesus, I’m not a monster, Y/N,” he grumbles and then asks, “what are you in the mood for for dinner?” as if that’s the end of that. At your shrug, he merely mentions he’ll think of something, and then he disappears into the kitchen.

You try to resume your reading, but the sun has moved and you know you should get up to turn on a light. Instead, you shift to the window and look out, wondering what Yoongi thought of when he used to sit here waiting for Jimin.

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Yoongi has been incepted.

That’s the only explanation he can think of even though he knows his favorite movie is merely a work of fiction. Even if such a thing were possible via magic, it would go against so many ethical tenets about autonomy and agency that there is no way the Witches’ Council would ever approve of such a thing.

Nevertheless, he cannot think of another reason why he is suddenly obsessed with you. At first, he thinks it’s because he’s never had someone love him (shocking as that is — the world is full of people with exceedingly bad taste). Then, he thinks it’s because he’s just trying to figure out how to be mindful of your feelings with his actions (he has a lot to make up for). And now, well, now he thinks it’s because you’re adorable.

He’s not sure why he never noticed. Yoongi attributes it to the unfortunate byproduct of living and working together for so long. He has taken you for granted and stopped seeing you as you are. He wonders what else about your work and personal relationship he’s taken for granted (your choice to cede ritual completion to him, for instance).

He wonders if love can manifest differently, feel differently, inhabit his body differently depending on the person he loves. He does not know. He has only ever loved Jimin, but maybe, maybe he has loved you, too. Maybe it was too quiet and soft for him to notice, like the light of a distant star in the sky next to the full moon.

He decides that it’s time to see if a distant star can become his sun.

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“Hey, Y/N,” Yoongi says at dinner about a week before the winter solstice. “I want to try something new for the upcoming consummation.”

You look up from the gaeng ped gai faktong you’ve been shoveling into your mouth. After the day you’ve had, the hearty Thai red curry with chicken and pumpkin is perfect and comforting.

“What? Why?” as you continue eating.

If you’re honest, nothing is more boring than the quarterly consummation duties and other than your out of character breakdown right after the last one, you have given very little thought to it. (Mostly because you’ve been busy, and why brood over what you can’t have?)

Yoongi eats a spoonful of curry and rice and wiggles in happiness. “The last time made me realize that we need contingencies in place in case one of us is indisposed again.”

You level him a look. “Stop being oblique, Yoongi,” you say. You set down your spoon. “We both know that if I’m not available, you won’t have an issue.”

“Ok, fine,” Yoongi sighs. “You’re right. I most likely won’t.” He also sets his spoon down and props his chin on his palm. His fingers tap his cheek. “I just didn’t want you to feel singled out because even though it seems as if it’s your problem, it’s not. It’s our joint concern.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t see how it can be anything other than my problem. I’m the one who has difficulty achieving orgasm.”

You are proud of yourself for how matter-of-fact you sound about this, but inside, you want to scream. You know Yoongi is not trying to humiliate you, and technically, this falls within the bounds of work-related performance. He is right to plan for the future in this manner. You just wish it doesn’t make you feel somewhat worthless when it generally doesn’t bother you at all.

“Well, we’ve always gone about it in a rather clinical sort of way,” Yoongi says reasonably. “I can’t imagine that to be very conducive to getting off.”

“You always seem to manage,” you grumble.

Yoongi winks at you. “I do have a rather vivid imagination,” he rejoins, “but it would be a lot easier even for me if we went about it differently.”

You feel awful. “I didn’t realize it was so terrible for you.”

Your husband reaches out and grabs your hand. “Y/N,” he intones gently, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. It really isn’t your fault. Your body is your body and it responds the way it responds. I think most people wouldn’t enjoy our consummations much — and if they did, they would most certainly be the male.”

He squeezes your hand in comfort.

“Besides,” he continues, “how come you aren’t upset at me for not making the experience more pleasurable for you? Why are you only focusing on what you perceive as your body’s failure when it is equally mine for not helping?”

You are at a loss for words. “I — I don’t know,” you finally say. “I guess I never really gave it much thought. And since I’ve never particularly wanted to have consummations with other people, I figured it was me.”

“Well, you clearly are capable of being the one to complete the ritual. I think we just need to practice.”

Yoongi states this so nonchalantly that you almost agree. And then, you recall him begging to sleep with you because he’d had a string of unsatisfactory relations.

“Wait, this isn’t because your sexual activities have yielded less than favorable outcomes is it?” you probe.

Hurt flashes across Yoongi’s face. “Y/N, you told me you didn’t want to do that, and I respect your boundaries. I don’t need to trick you to sleep with me.” He withdraws his hand and yours now feels too empty. “I meant that we could try new approaches during our quarterly consummations.”

“Oh,” you reply. You don’t know why you are slightly disappointed, but you don’t stop to overanalyze it. “I suppose that would be alright, although we’ll have to do our best with the timing.”

“There is no restriction on how many orgasms we have, just that it’s better to culminate near the apex of the moon,” Yoongi reasons. “We’ll figure it out.”

You think Yoongi is a touch too optimistic, but you don’t mention it. He changes the subject to the winter festival you’re in the midst of planning (there really are too many festivals but you suppose celebrating and gratefulness are good for town morale), and you fall back into the rhythm of discussing less consummation-related aspects of your work.

Later, as the night winds down and you are both heading upstairs to your respective rooms, he says, “Oh, one more thing.”

“Hmmm?” you hum, mind only on taking a shower and then collapsing into bed. “What’s that?”

“We may want to consider letting our guards around our psychic link drop during the consummation,” he says. “I’ve read that it may help.”

Your mind harkens back to the times Yoongi has lost control — even for mere seconds — and how it left your body roaring with desire. You swallow. “Oh, sure,” you say, even though you feel vulnerable just thinking about it. “I guess we can do that.”

As if he can read your thoughts, he appends, “But only if you are comfortable doing so, Y/N.” He pauses by your door as you head into your room. “It can just be me opening the link, too, or neither of us.”

“How will you opening your link help me if you’re not really getting anything out of it?” you ask as you mindlessly fix your bed covers.

“Oh, trust me,” he chuckles from your doorway, and you can’t help but be drawn to him. “I’ll get plenty out of it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Giving you pleasure will give me pleasure,” he says, laughter still laced in his tone. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You mumble a “good night” and get ready to shower. Your skin tingles and feels hot, as does your heart. No matter that you are apprehensive, you cannot bring yourself to regret.

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When the day of winter consummation finally arrives, you wake up feeling out of sorts. Your tummy will not settle and you keep running to the bathroom to pee or poop. You are glad that Yoongi is out most of the morning and won’t return until the early afternoon for a late lunch.

You occupy yourself with administrative duties for the town and when that no longer effectively distracts you, you lock yourself in the workroom and decide to clean and calibrate all your spell-making tools. When that is done, you inventory your pantries to make sure you’re all stocked for both cooking and potion brewing.

And so, your day passes until your alarm sounds around 5pm. You swing by the kitchen to eat a light supper with Yoongi, and then, before you know it, it’s time to prepare.

“You ready, Y/N?” Yoongi asks after you’ve finished clearing and washing the dishes.

You swallow and nod. “Yeah.”

Yoongi smiles softly at you. “At any point you feel uncomfortable, we can stop. I can just finish the rite on my own like we discussed.”

“I know.” You shudder in a deep breath and then let it loose slowly. “I trust you.”

“This means a lot to me, you know,” he murmurs. He reaches a hand out to you, palm up, and you put your hand in his. “I’ve drawn the bath. Come.”

You follow him into the bathroom and though you’ve done the bathing and anointing by yourself for the last fifteen or so years, you are nervous. You are grateful that despite the cottage being small, the bathroom can comfortably accommodate you both. There is a double sink vanity with ample counter space by the door, a tiny shower stall with clear glass panels, a toilet in the corner, and a giant cast iron clawfoot tub taking pride of place.

Yoongi has already filled the old tub with hot water and the scents of sandalwood, geranium, and ylang ylang fill your nostrils. Your special robes are folded on a wooden stool nearby and freshly washed towels are stacked on another.

You are about to remove your clothing when Yoongi stops you and merely says, “Please. Let me.”

He enters your space and lightly brushes your hair from your forehead. He taps your chin so that you meet his gaze. He runs his fingers down then up your arms and back down your torso before hooking them under the hem of your favorite sweatshirt. He smirks when he realizes that this, too, used to be his.

(Very well, you may have a problem with stealing — though you prefer to see it as reappropriating. Yoongi has a shopping problem, and you are merely helping him keep his closet clutter-free.)

Yoongi begins to lift your sweatshirt and you raise your arms to assist him. What you don’t realize is that he has also pulled off the long sleeve tee you have on underneath it as well. You don’t know why the reality of you standing in a bra and leggings in front of your husband has you off-kilter.

“You okay?” he checks, and you assure him that you are fine.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” you insist.

“That’s true,” he replies, “but I don’t know that I’ve truly looked. You deserve someone to take you in with intention.”

You roll your eyes at the cheesiness of his line, but you also allow his words to seep into your heart just a tiny bit. (You would chastise yourself, except you tell yourself this is for your actual job.)

Yoongi leans slightly against the sinks and pulls you in closer between his legs. He reaches behind you, efficiently unhooking your bra. The straps slide down your arms and they tickle your skin as he pulls it down and places it on top of your discarded garments.

“Wait,” you say, and Yoongi’s fingers hover at your waist. “I want to see you, too.”

Yoongi’s mouth crooks in pleased confidence and spreads his arms, bracing them on the counter behind him. “Have at it then.”

You smooth your hand up his stomach and chest and begin to unbutton his yellow and black checkered flannel shirt. When you’re done, he shrugs out of the sleeves and tosses his shirt on top of your clothes. Yoongi’s white heattech undershirt hugs his torso tightly, the contours of his pecs and stomach filling it out nicely while you can just see a hint of the dark brown of his nipples through the material. You unceremoniously tug his undershirt up and pull it over his head.

“Oh,” you breathe even though this, too, is not the first time you’ve seen your husband naked. You cannot resist running your fingers lightly down the trail of fine, black hair down to the low-slung waistband of his joggers.

Yoongi draws in a sharp breath.

Your eyes flit to his. You have never seen his eyes quite so black or gaze so focused. You wonder if this is how he used to look at Jimin. You decide to ask.

“Is this how you used to look at Jimin?”

Yoongi places his large hands around your waist and strokes at your skin idly. “Oh, Y/N, I’m just getting started,” he rasps, both not answering and answering your question at the same time. “May I?” he asks as his fingers start dragging down your leggings.

“Please,” you reply evenly. (It takes great effort, but you manage.)

He first rolls your leggings and panties down your thighs and then kneels so he can finish taking them off. When he slips them off along with your socks (he really is very efficient at skipping steps), his face is level with your mound. His eyes flick first to your sex and then to your gaze. His tongue slips out and then slips back in. His lower lip is shiny with spit.

He slinks back up into a standing position and is about to pull his own joggers off when he instead quirks a brow at you. “Your turn,” he says, like a challenge.

The nerve.

You follow his example and drag down his joggers and black boxer briefs as you sink to your knees. You also pull them off along with his socks and when you dare to look up, you are confronted with his cock right at your face. He’s still mostly soft, but you suppose there is plenty of time before the ritual. You do not take it personally. You know you are nowhere near the main event yet.

You stand back up and make more room between you two so you can take in Yoongi in all his naked glory. His shoulders are broad, his arms are strong, his stomach is flat, and his legs are lean. Yoongi is also drinking you in, his gaze heavy and hot as it trails from your head down to your toes and back up again.

“Come,” he says again, grabbing your hand.

He lifts a leg and climbs into the tub. He settles in and steam rises from the water. He lifts both his hands and runs them through his long, dark locks. They leave his hair damp, and your belly stirs.

“Come on, Y/N,” he repeats, “the water is just right.”

You think this is a bit overdone, but you join him in the giant basin anyway. Your instinct is to sit on the opposite end and face him, but you soon realize that there isn’t a way to do that comfortably. You settle for using him as an armchair, unused to such closeness in such a tight confine.

Yoongi grabs a bathing sponge and squeezes warm water down the back of your neck. You feel your skin prinkle into goosebumps and resist the urge to shiver. He takes the cake of ceremonial soap and lathers the sponge then begins to gently and firmly rub the skin of your shoulders, arms, neck, and back.

You feel the skin of his chest and belly against your back as he leans forward and continues to slather soapy circles at your decolletage, on your stomach and around your breasts, lightly abrading your nipples. You don’t mean to gasp, but you do. Though you don’t hear him laugh, you can feel the light shake in his body and the smug content he allows to travel through your connection.

“Is this alright?” he asks, and you know he is not asking about the physical touch but the psychic one.

“It is,” you reply, the warmth of the bath and the heat radiating from Yoongi’s body putting you at ease.

His mouth is by your ear and pleasure slinks down your spine. “Good,” he murmurs. He adds more soap and then lowers his hands below the water line, softly scrubbing your thighs and only lightly brushing your sex.

You are shocked at the sudden thrill that shoots through your gut from that tiny contact alone.

“Shhhh,” Yoongi shushes, his wet mouth still at your neck, so close to your ear. The sensation is delicious and you draw up your legs to allow him easier access.

You get so lost in the sensations of him washing you that you lose track of time. The fact that Yoongi can keep the water at the same temperature with his magic contributes to that floating feeling. When he holds your hands in his to help wash himself, you are practically boneless. You are certain you’re not doing anything for Yoongi except the curling warmth of arousal pulsing down from Yoongi’s link tells you otherwise.

All too soon (or is it too long), Yoongi nudges you to stand up. The cool air hits your body and your skin awakens after being lulled to sleep. He holds out a fluffy gray towel, pats you dry, and then does the same for himself.

“Sit,” he says, indicating the wooden stool the towels were resting on and fetches the clary sage infused anointing oil.

You feel him drip the oil on your back and shoulders and are surprised when he massages it into your skin rather than just spreading it with his hands. When he is done, he stands naked in front of you, reverently drizzling the oil on your chest. You note that he is no longer quite so soft. You watch as his hands, so strong and veiny, caress your breasts, thumb your nipples, and smooth over your abdomen. You watch as he finishes applying the oil to your thighs, legs, and feet, and you realize that the curl of arousal in your gut is no longer just his.

Yoongi hands you the ginseng infused anointing oil to you and you try your best to mimic what he did earlier for you. His skin is smooth and hot under your palms. You wonder why you had never thought to touch him before during your consummations and think you can get used to this new way of doing things. His arms and legs are hard with muscle and you find yourself stunned that you find even the dark hair on his legs attractive.

When you’re done, you both don your robes and go downstairs to carry the previously set aside grain, meat, fruit, wine, and other ceremonial paraphernalia. You feel as if in a dream except even in your dreams, you have never imagined such a sensual evening.

Yoongi clears a path in the light snow to the ceremonial area. From the look of it, he had gone out earlier in the day to clean and arrange the fire pits in a circle. Yoongi flicks his hands and a low fire alights in the bronze bowls. He pauses at the edge of the circle and turns to you.

“Do you want the ground to be damp dirt or snow?” he asks. “I can make the dirt less wet, but it will take some time.”

You know from experience that though snow is easier for him now, the wetness will seep into the sheepskins much faster than the slightly wet earth. (You could spell the sheepskins, but tradition dictates that they are not. Something about being closer to nature or whatever nonsense.) “Dirt, please.”

“As you wish,” Yoongi says and turns back to the circle.

He focuses and with a few compact and purposeful gestures reminiscent of martial arts (though martial arts were initially derived from elemental witches), the snow in the center of the ring is cleared. You think he even removes some of the moisture from the top layer of earth, but it’s only a little bit.

He was always an overachiever.

You lay down multiple sheepskins and thick blankets. Even though Yoongi will likely warm some of the air around you, you try to make life a little bit easier for him if you can. You set down the washcloths, the warmed oil, the water, and Yoongi readies the offerings.

“Ready?” he asks, and you reply, “Yes.”

Yoongi offers the grain and then throws it into its designated fire pit. He warms the grain quickly and when it’s done roasting, he gathers a few grains in his hand and instead of eating it himself, he brings it to your lips.

“Open,” he suggests. In the low light of the fire, his eyes seem completely black.

You open and his fingers touch your lips as you eat the grain from his hand. He looks at you expectantly so you follow his lead, gather some grains and lift your hand to feed him. His lips part and when he mouths the offering from your fingertips, his lips are wet and you remember them on your cunt.

When he throws the rest of the grain on the brazier to be consumed, you are warm not only because of the flames.

The offering of the meat goes in much the same way. Yoongi sears the meat in the bronze bowl, slices the steak and feeds you by hand. When you return the offering to him, his tongue slips out to lick your fingers. You are so surprised, you almost drop the meat onto the ground. The self-satisfied grin he flashes you stokes the tiny fire that he’s lit in your depths. You will yourself not to look away.

You bring out the persimmons and though you personally prefer them when they’re crisp, Yoongi has chosen ones that are so ripe, the skin almost falls off. You presume he does so because they’re decadent and incredibly sweet. This time, you offer him a slice of persimmon first, the juice running down your fingers and wrist. You expect him to lick your fingers again, but you do not expect him to start licking from your wrist. He sucks the fleshy fruit from your fingers and a shot of desire flares from your cunt to your belly. Though you have not shared your link to him, Yoongi looks as if he knows.

He feeds you your portion and you are not nearly as shameless, but you want to be. You toss the rest of the persimmon into the fire and when Yoongi twirls his fingers to burn the offering faster, you think of his fingers inside you and you long for this part of the ceremony to be over.

Yoongi pours a chalice of ice wine and sips it, licking his lips. After he takes another mouthful, he pulls you in close and kisses you with an open mouth, pushing the wine into your mouth with his tongue. The fact that he thrusts his tongue into your awaiting mouth and doesn’t stop forces you to swallow around him. The guttural moan he makes combined with the flood of pleasure he sends down his connection to you drags a reciprocal moan from you.

Your senses are alight and though you know the air is cold, your body burns.

Yoongi pours some of the ice wine in the fire pit and then empties the bottle into the earth. When he is done, he reaches for your hand once again.

“Come, Y/N,” he says, his eyes intense, and for the first time, you are excited for what comes next.

He leads you to the pile of sheepskins and blankets and quirks his head as if asking permission to remove your robe. You assent and he does so, removing his own as well. You feel the air warm around you (but not before the first frisson of the winter air kisses your skin). He lowers you carefully onto the coverings. Through your shared connection, you feel his desire for you and though you also feel desire — feel it envelop you in its grip — you also feel wonder.

“Still okay with this?” he asks, his body and lips hovering over yours.

You reach for his face and cup his jaw in your hand. “I am,” you say.

You don’t know if you pull him towards you or if he lowers himself of his own accord, but the next thing you know, he is kissing you full on the mouth. His lips taste like sweet ice wine. You can’t recall the last time you were kissed let alone this hungrily. He nips, he soothes, he sucks and at his insistence, you open. He licks into your mouth, his tongue exploring the hidden hollows of your mouth. You think you could kiss him forever.

You feel one of his rough hands palm and knead your breasts, his thumb flicking your nipple lazily. He kisses up your jawline and licks into your ear, nibbles on your earlobe, and breathes hot and heavy at the curve of your neck.

“So sweet, Y/N,” he mouths, “you taste so sweet. Could taste you forever.”

Your first instinct is to retort that it’s the ice wine he’s tasting, except when he moves his hand to your neck — not to choke or hurt you — but to hold you still, to splay your throat beneath him, your brain can’t form words.

Yoongi prowls down your body, his mouth devouring your throat, your collarbones, your decolletage. Wherever you have skin, his mouth and tongue licks and kisses, leaving a trail of hot saliva that cools immediately. When he surrounds your breast with that same mouth and tongue, you arch more fully into him. He suckles you and when the ravening hunger comes down the link, you can’t believe it’s for you.

“Yoongi,” you gasp. You want. You grasp his head between your hands and press him lower, the memory of him suctioning on your heated core spurring you on.

You feel his amusement both through your connection and from the light shaking huffs of his body as he continues kissing down your torso, finally advancing to the heart of your need.

Just before he reaches your sex, Yoongi looks up. His eyes are so blown. “Is this where you wanted me?” he rasps. He flicks his tongue on your clit and your hips jerk. “Is this what you wanted?” He blows lightly over your heat and you almost cry.

“Yes,” you beg, “yes, Yoongi, yes.”

“You sure?”

You see him pull his mouth into a smug little half smile and suddenly, you are wild for him. You don’t know what comes over you, but you grab his hair and steer his face into your center. “Please,” you plead. “Please, Yoongi, please.”

You can tell by the quirk of his eyebrows that Yoongi is amused, but you don’t care. You let loose your guards, allowing your desperation to pulse through your being and into his. This time when Yoongi smiles, it is pure joy, stripped of swagger and stunting.

“As you command,” he croons and proceeds to swipe the flat of his tongue up over your slit.

Yoongi spreads you with his hands and eats you like the sweetest of peaches, like the ripest of papayas. His grunts and groans vibrate against your entrance and when he tongues you, all hot and slippery between your folds, you fist the blankets beneath you. He feasts and you writhe, eager and willing.

He delves his quick and clever tongue deep into you and noses your tight cluster of nerves until finally, your blood boils and you burst, Yoongi’s name tearing from your lips.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans as he slurps up your release. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the harvest moon,” he says as he kisses back up your body.

You know better than to trust his words. You know he’s been on a mission to seduce you and wring pleasure from your body. “You don’t have to say that, Yoongi,” you say. “You’ve already gotten an orgasm from me — although the moon isn’t high enough yet. I suppose we started too early.”

“When have I ever said things just to say it, Y/N?” Yoongi peppers soft kisses along your face. “I said I’ve been thinking about how your pussy tastes for months, and I meant it.” His fingers smooth down your brows and the slope of your nose. He kisses you again and you taste yourself on him, slightly sharp but mostly neutral with a hint of metal.

“And now that you’ve had it again?” you can’t help but ask.

Yoongi sucks on your lower lip and spears his tongue into your mouth again. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I’m going to go crazy waiting until the next consummation.”

You giggle. “Surely it doesn’t always feel like that?”

Yoongi hums as he nuzzles and fondles your breasts. You can’t quite believe he’s still touching you, but you suppose he still has yet to find his release. There is still the ritual to complete and the moon is starting to close in on its highest position.

“Not always,” he replies, busying himself as if he wants to map all the hills and valleys of your body. “Sometimes it’s better. Sometimes, less so.” He nips the curve of your waist and you cry out in surprise. “That’s the fun of it. It’s different every time.”

“Is that why our consummations aren’t fun for you? They’re the same every time?”

Yoongi sits up and you mourn the loss of his physical attentions. He hands you a bottle of water, and you prop yourself up to drink it more easily.

“They weren’t fun because they felt so sterile,” Yoongi explains. “It was just another duty to perform, like filling out a form or attending a council meeting.”

“It sounds so antiseptic when you say that.”

“Isn’t it how we usually go about it?” he asks, his voice warm against your skin.

“What just happened doesn’t feel antiseptic,” you say with wonder. “It felt alive.” You swallow. “I felt alive.”

Yoongi smiles a true smile, gummy and adoring, and you feel such love and affection come through your link. You are momentarily nonplussed when you notice the love, but you think perhaps it’s the platonic sort.

“I think that’s how the ritual is supposed to feel,” he muses. “I used to think it was nothing but a tradition — that it’s just symbolic. But now, I hope I’m wrong. I hope that feeling of being alive transmutes the ritual into a deeper magic.”

Again, you feel that pulse of love travel down the link from Yoongi to you. You’re not sure if Yoongi realizes his guard is still down, except he’s a meticulous sort. He definitely knew what he was doing when he opened his connection to you. He is not the type to forget such an asset.

You decide to be brave and send out a pulse of your own. You are rewarded with another smile from Yoongi, all fond and tender at the edges.

“What changed?” you ask, knowing that Yoongi will know what you mean.

You suddenly feel shy and a retroactive solidarity with Yoongi about how bashful he’d seemed regarding your feelings for him. You realize he was right: someone loving you is a precious, fragile thing. You don’t know if you are worthy. You don’t know if you can satisfy him — and you really, really want to.

“I thought love was like a wildfire, hot and consuming everything in its path. Instead, it’s socks that stay warm and dry in the winter and my mother’s kimchi jjigae on the stove.”

You push him lightly on the shoulder. “Did you just compare our love to your socks?” You chuckle at his expense even though you know exactly what he means.

“I did,” he admits. “It’s not very romantic, is it?” Yoongi shakes his head ruefully. “Your love covers me wherever I go, Y/N. You’re the interstices of my life, like your spellwork and wards, protecting me and easing my life. Hidden until something breaks to expose its inner workings.”

Yoongi lies down beside you and pulls you into his arms. You go so easily.

“Our love is quiet. You and I are quiet,” he says, “and for the longest time, I couldn’t see it because I thought love was only loud. I thought it should disrupt my life — that love would shine so bright, I had to shield my eyes from the glare.”

You lean your head against his chest and listen to the steady beating of his heart. Yoongi is wrong. His love is so loud. It beats so strong, you can hear nothing else.

You suppose you can both be right.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you say softly.

“I know,” he replies. “I finally recognized it as a mirror of my own.”

“You can just say it, you know,” you grumble. “It doesn’t have to be all warm breakfasts and subtle gestures.”

He turns to face you. “I love you, Y/N,” Yoongi says, not quite looking you in the eye. He’s staring at a spot just to the left of your gaze, but you’ll forgive him. (It gives you something to tease him about later.)

You brush his black hair back from his forehead and kiss him. “It’s getting near the time for optimal ritual completion.”

Yoongi laughs. “If you want me to see if I can try for a second orgasm from you, just tell me.”

“That’s — that’s not what I meant!” you cry indignantly. “I’m not greedy.”

He shifts you so that you are now more on top of him than not. He pulls you towards him and kisses you. “Maybe you should be.”

Yoongi reaches for the clove oil and pours some on his hand and then yours. He brings your hand to his length, still so hard from before. You find it amazing that he has been unflagging this whole time.

“Maybe you should take me and take from me,” he husks, his voice straining as you inexpertly handle him.

His large hand guides your own and he shows you how tightly he wants you wrapped around him. Yoongi’s breathing gets harder even as his member does the same. Even as he’s guiding you, he doesn’t stop kissing you, his lips molding yours to his, as if you are his very food and breath.

You accidentally graze his balls as you’re stroking him and he jerks. “Shit” he hisses, “do that again.”

You fondle his balls again as he continues pumping into his own hand. Though all he is doing is kissing you, the feedback you’re getting from his side of the link is also stoking your own desires. And then, you realize you are getting wet again. It is as Yoongi said: pleasing him also pleases you.

“You up for riding me?” he entreats.

You straddle him and line him to your entrance in lieu of answering. Though you haven’t tried this position before, you find that your body knows what to do. You sink down on him slowly, not wanting to hurt him. In doing so, you feel the bulbous head of his cock nudge into you, stretching and sliding one delicious inch after another.

You feel so full, like he is deep in your guts.

Yoongi’s face is scrunched in concentration, tiny beads of sweat forming at his hairline. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, and for the first time, you realize how much power you have over him. All these years, you’d thought the rite was about him spilling his seed in you, like the farmer sowing the earth. When all this time, it was the earth actively receiving, cradling and nourishing what the farmer gave her.

“You all sorted?” he grits out through clenched teeth.

You laugh breathlessly. “Yeah, I’m sorted.”

“Thank fuck. Please, baby, I need you to move.”

And so you move. You hear the slick squelch of your bodies melding along with Yoongi’s pants and low curses. He has one hand on your waist guiding you and the other kneading your breast and twisting your nipple. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and every now and then, you hear him mutter, “like that” or “take it” as he thrusts up into you.

You think you’ve got the hang of it but you’re nowhere near an orgasm like you had been earlier. Some of your anxiety must leak through your connection because Yoongi moves his hand from your waist to where the two of you are joined. Slowly, his thumb presses low circles in conjunction with his other hand flicking your nipple.

“Look at me, baby,” he grunts. “Let me in.”

You open up your connection fully and not only do you feel your own growing arousal from how he’s playing you, you feel the sensations of your cunt sliding over his cock, the ache in his balls, the coil in his gut. You feel how Yoongi is steadily losing his control, how much he loves you and longs to please you, how wild and delectable you are riding him.

The more you feel your coupling from his point of view, the more you relax and lose yourself in the process. You undulate your hips in an instinctual rhythm and soon, you are close.

“Yoongi,” you implore, “Yoongi, please.”

He shifts his angle just a bit under you and plants both his feet on the ground behind you and thrusts with all his might. You feel every bit of his cock sliding in and then out, in and then out, deeper and deeper up into your cunt. His thumb swirls your mess around your throbbing clit and you brace your hands on his chest.

You want to burst from your skin — not only from your own senses but from his, too. By now, thanks to your link, you are not sure where you end and he begins, and it doesn’t matter because one of you — no, both of you — are coming. You hear the flames in the surrounding braziers blaze higher and crackle, the sudden flare heating the air around you. It is the crash of waves against a cliff, an onslaught of winds in a storm, the silence of deep night and the pounding of your pulse.

You sob his name and yours is a prayer on his tongue.

Yoongi kisses you as if you are the only person in the world and you relish his insistent tongue, his disrespectful teeth, his decadent lips. He kisses you until you both calm down, the first rush of oxytocin dissipating in your blood.

“See?” Yoongi chuckles as you slump over him. He kisses your temples and your hair and smoothes his hands down your sweaty back. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I think I’ve been my own worst enemy all these years. I don’t know how you were able to get that out of me so easily,” you say.

“Shhhh,” he mutters even as he captures your lips with his own once more. You’re beginning to think sex for Yoongi isn’t even about physical pleasure so much as it is about an intimate connection. “Even if it takes longer or isn’t easy, your enjoyment is worth the time it takes. You are worth exploring.”

“What if this is not a replicable feat?” you ask, worry rushing back in now that the afterglow is starting to recede.

Yoongi captures your gaze. “Then it’s not a replicable feat,” he says seriously, “and I’ll do whatever I can to make it as gratifying for you as possible even then. You’re not a machine, to perform at whatever whims our job necessitates.”

“All the same, we should still practice outside of our duties — like we used to,” you say slyly.

Your husband grins, crooked and a bit too cocky for your taste, but you suppose he wears it well. “As you say, Y/N. As you say.”

.

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Yoongi wakes up, his back aching and eyes squinting at how high the sun is now in the sky. You clearly have let him sleep in even though you, too, are likely exhausted from the harvest festival. You’ve begun to delegate even more aspects of the festivals to your staff, though still take lead on the majority of details for now. You reason that just as the two of you began contingency planning for your consummation rituals, your citizens should also have protections in place for them.

This last year’s fall harvest was more bountiful than Yoongi ever recalls in Tranquil Valley’s recent history. He wonders if it is merely coincidence or if the two of you have actually activated a deeper magic with your ritual consummations. He supposes it doesn’t much matter. Harvest or not, he will still ensure the two of you intimately connect until you both retire (and even after).

Though neither of you are particularly demonstrative in your love for each other, there is something about a clearly stipulated and understood state of affairs that makes your love more concrete. More discrete. More replete.

He pulls on some joggers and heads to the kitchen. Yoongi smiles though you are long vanished to your workroom, it being closer to lunch than breakfast. Despite the lateness of the hour, his morning repast of gyeran-mari and various banchan is laid out and awaiting him in the nook. His Americano is cold with just the right amount of ice, and his breakfast is warm.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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