Omega Reader - Tumblr Posts

New Alpha/Beta/Omega Story Idea With DBD

Basic summary: In the Entity's Realm, everyone is from a different dimension, and so that means everyone follows slightly different cultures, beliefs and traditions. The reader is an omega, and in their dimension omegas' are treated as equals amongst alphas'. They're used to being pampered, respected, and understood by the alphas'. However, in the Entity's Realm, the alphas' are far, far different from the ones in the reader's own dimension. Instead of treating omegas' as equals, they fight to dominate them, control them, and use them. Even the omegas' are different; unkempt, submissive and out of control, easily bending to the alphas' will. Unused to and terrified of these alternative alphas' and omegas', the reader struggles to find safety, justification and respect. Will any of the alphas' they meet try to understand their traditions and standards? Or will they only suffer like the rest of the oblivious omegas'?

Notes: So in a lot of stories out there, everyone has their own unique way of writing alpha/beta/omega concepts. I myself have tapped into and read a lot of these concepts, and for this story I wanted to dive into tradition and culture and how it effects everyone differently. Using dbd's Entity Realm is a great way to take advantage of dimensional aspects.

What killers will be considered as potential love interests for the reader? Hmm, I'm not entirely sure (I'm never sure about that stuff. You guys know that, lol).

Obviously I'm gonna say Herman because my Herman is a sappy, lovey-dovey gentleman.

Caleb? Caleb has the potential to be both a considerate gentleman and a controlling jerk based on his time line, but I'm willing to make the exception for him.

One of the idiot-boy trio. Frank, Danny or Ji-woon. Gotta have at least one of them. Help me decide if you want.

Maybe Wesker? Like maybe he's turned on by the challenge the reader brings by being a more superior omega, and he secretly likes that.

Philip is cute, and I bet he would love a relationship where he didn't have to be so hard at work all the time.

We also have Pinhead. He's very intelligent and can sense the good in people. Obviously he'd be interested in the reader.

And then I'm gonna say Freddy because it's a twist and unexpected and I love the thought of him being the nicest to the reader out of all the other alphas'.

I've already got this story underway. I'm just posting this to try to help keep my own chin up. I really wanna get this story finished and posted so that way I can share the whole thing with you my precious dears'. Let's see how much of a disaster it turns out to be, aye?

Hey, do any of y'all know a bnha omegaverse fanfic called Under the Moon? Im pretty sure the account got terminated but I was hoping if anyone could tell my who the creator is and what their new account is called.

Alpha! Toji x F! Omega Reader makes me feel somthing new😳😻💦

Me @em-plosion for this glorious follow up 😤♥️♥️

18+ MINORS DNI

Word count: 7.4K

Warnings: Explicit scenes and language, mentions of drug use, mentions of domestic abuse, Alpha Enji being Alpha Enji,Knotting,Biting, Marking, scent kink, size kink

Its finally here everyone! Part 2 of my favorite writing piece. I had so much fun writing and editing this. I hope everyone enjoys and blushes as much as I did 🥴

Keep reading

P.E. Class

Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, public fucking, breeding, knotting, mention of musk, wrestling, mention of bullying, general yandere behavior Word Count: 360 (Super short drabble, please enjoy!)

Imagine you're an omega in college. The college in this realm requires physical education classes for all students no matter their major.

One day the class makes students pair off and wrestle one another. Complete with singlets.

You get paired with the biggest alpha brute, one who often teases and lightly bullies you.

The match is over in an instant, with him pinning you down on your belly. Your skin is touching and his musk is overpowering.

You feel his hot breath on your neck.

Then, in front of everyone, he begins to grind into you. Your body does what biology demands and you produce slick. It seeps through both of your singlets coating his cock.

You try to squirm but he grows and bears down on you with more force until you whimper and go limp.

He moves your singlet so that your hole is exposed and does the same to free his cock.

He plunges it right into you with one smooth motion, his cock squelching lewdly into your depths.

Then he breeds you hard and fast in full view of everyone. Some masturbate openly, others film your predicament, and a few blush and look away. But none helped. It wasn't all that odd for an omega to be taken suddenly.

You couldn't help but cry at the humiliation of being fucked in public. The helplessness of being raped so suddenly. And the embarrassment that came with it feeling so good that you were moaning and moving into his thrusts unwillingly.

After what feels like an eternity the both of you cum and he bites your neck and claims you as his prize. He licks your neck and nuzzles you while you cry on the gym mat, his knot still in you.

When his knot goes down he apologizes that he did that so suddenly, he explains that he had been planning to breed you eventually but the sweat and positioning from wrestling just triggered something primal in him and he could wait no longer…

Then he hushes your protests and carries you, cum still dripping down your legs, to his dorm for rounds 2, 3, 4, and 5.

Uhm..Alpha Jk please!💕 hes very overprotective over his s/o and makes you stay by his side at all times and makes you wear cute babygirl clothes and hshs tyyy♥️

"Daddy ?"

Jungkook's head popped from behind the closet's door, staring at you, who were sitting on your bed. You had your knees pulled up at your chest, playing with your fingers. He smiled, because you looked so small and fragile like that, almost like a little lost kitten.

And oh, how much he loved it, to know you are an omega and he is the strong alpha, always having to protect you, always helping you with even small things, like opening a bottle or a jar for you and even the jelly bears pack, sometimes. And you enjoyed it, enjoyed how imposing and misterious he was always, making you feel so small, even if you weren't the short or skinny type, you were head over heels for him.

"Yes, kitten?"

You blushed and showed him a mad pout, trying to act annoyed. You were not a kitten, you were a wolf, not a little fragile baby kitten. He smirked, because he knew you secretly like being called like that, he knew you too well, so he know that you won't ever admit that to him, as well.

"I am not a kitten, daddy!" You huffed and puffed, crossing your arms over your chest. A 'cute' escaping his lips, making your blush creep on your face. You pouted more when he dissapeared again into the closet, but he came back quickly, holding a cute, purple t-shirt and a light pink skirt. "Look what I found, baby!"

You blushed and clapped your hands. You had to admit, you loved when he was dressing you up all cute and like he wanted to, you liked feeling dominated of him, even in a cute way. You got up fast and pecked his cheek, taking the clothes and dressed up.

He smiled wide, seeing how cute you are and you looked away, blushing more. "Sit on bed baby." You nodded your head and did so. Jungkook took a pair of white knee socks, which you liked so much and kneeled in front of you "I can put them alone, daddy- "

But Jungkook took one of your legs up, planting a kiss on your ankle and up your long leg and thigh, making you blush.

"Let me do that for you, kitten!"

credit to the owner of the gif;

Yo! Can I get like a really shy omega just like chucking a love letter and something else into uhmm... maybe Dabi, Tomura, and Toga(All seperate), their arms and the letter says that if they want to accept the courting then they can scent the item and return it to the omega and if they don't want to then they can toss it out. Slight Yandere please? I am a bitch for yandere stuff.

MMm yes, the good yandere kush.

This is the angstyclowns blog how good can it be- 

I’m trying something new here, so stick with me.

Yandere! Alpha! Tomura Shigaraki, Himiko Toga, and Touya Todoroki Dabi  x Omega! Reader

Tomura Shigaraki

 You want him to what-

He’s so blindsided by you throwing you’re favorite blanket at him he’s stunned there for a hot second. 

Like, his sweet, ever loving little omega is suddenly throwing stuff at him before running off?

His first response is to bring it back to his room, hold it close and smell your leftover scent on it. 

But the crinkling of paper has him deterred from an afternoon of pure bliss

pulling it free from the confines of the clothing fold, he’s almost tempted to dust it, but he refrains, opening it with a look of distaste. 

‘Tenko, I understand you may not like me the way I like you- but if you find in your heart to give me a chance, do you think you could scent this for me? I understand if not though. With love, Y/N XO’

You were the only one brave enough to call him by his real name, it it warmed his heart. 

Of course, he was also warmed by your letter. 

The omega he had been pinning after for months noticed him. 

His heart thundered in his chest at the thought of having you by his side. 

Of course, he knew he was going to have you no matter what you thought or ‘believed. 

He was going to have you no matter what, but the fact that you wanted him back had his inner alpha growling at him to hurry up and scent your sweater. 

He did so quickly, rubbing it up and down his scent gland as he quickly skittered to your room 

He knocked twice before opening, smiling at your form as you laid in your nest, expectantly looking up to him. 

He joined you before long, wrapping you up in blankets before scenting you as you happily purred. 

He resisted the urge to bite you then and there, instead holding you almost painfully close to himself as he cherised having his omega in his arms. 

His omega that he would kill for. 

Himiko Toga

Toga was wiping her knife clean right after her latest kill when you yeeted your sweater at her.

She caught it with ease, being a trained killer after all. She looked at you confused but you ran off before she could say anything

She was confused but chose to inspect the sweater any way, smiling at the letter that came with it. 

One more keepsake to add to her shrine. 

She thought Deku was cute at first, but when you came into her life she was completely overwhelmed with your beauty, becoming enamored by you quickly. 

In fact, she was cleaning up from her latest act of love for you. 

See what happens next time some Karen decides to fuck with you

Unfolding the card in that was hidden in the pocket, she smiled to herself at the words.

‘Toga-chan \(^v^)/~ I hope this letter finds you well! I hope you can find it in your soul to maybe scent this for me >-<... I admire you as an alpha and hope you’ll be mine? <3<3<3 Y/N~ XOXOXOXOXOXO

Hopping off of her barroom stool, Toga followed her nose as she easily picked up on your scent, finding you on the outside porch. 

You seemed stressed as you dug the tip of your shoe in the dirt. 

You were startled when Toga placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning down to place her head on your shoulder as she handed you your newly scented sweater, listening to you purr.

Before abruptly biting into your scent gland. 

She waited this long for you and she wasn’t waiting for her omega any longer.

Touya Todoroki Dabi

You were used to dabi keeping you close without any regards to those around you. 

He would snarl. growls and snap at any one who attempted to get close to you. It was part of his charm. 

Dabi was not afraid to kill for. 

He’d done it once, and he’d do it again. 

He’d massacre for you if he had too. 

Anything to keep you by his side. 

He dreamed of keeping you by his side, giving you his pups

fucking you into mattresses until you pleaded for him to stop- which he wouldn’t.

He had done small things like subtly scenting your jackets and shirts, to small ‘accidental’ burns on conveniently located places. 

He swore never to love anyone ever again, but you were the only exception

He was so in love with you it hurt. 

So when you shakily sat in front of him, holding out one of the shirts he gave you a long time ago, he was confused. 

A note was resting delicately on top, since you knew you had troubles speaking about this out loud. 

You almost passed out when he opened it to read it. 

‘Dear Touya, that sounds too formal, doesn’t it? I don’t know how else to to start this letter out though, so I suppose it’s here to stay. I know you and I have been building a relationship for the past few months, and I was wondering if you could scent this for me? I totally understand if not though, as I know you don’t believe in mates-’

He stopped reading, quickly grabbing the shirt and rubbing it along his scent gland. 

He then pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms as you chirped. 

you then calmed down before purring into his chest, smiling into his chest.

He wasn’t letting go any time soon.

Alpha todo x omega reader where the reader is held hostage by a villain, kinda like the Tamaki one but with todo

SAlpha! Shoto Todoroki x Hostage! Omega! Reader

Again, this alpha is the classic fish out of water

So, if his inner alpha is like ‘Stay home with you omega today, she deserves it.”

His natural response is “Who?”

Jk. 

Not really though.

Anyway, he did get a bad feeling in his gut, but instead of listening to it he was like-

“Indigestion? Been a while but how you doin’?”

He just goes on with his day as normal.

Pecks before he sits down for breakfast.

Pecks after.

In between probably.

All the way until he has to leave for work.

He was doing paper work for a recent villain capture when he got the call.

“Shoto, we need back up for a robbery. Normally we wouldn’t, but they- they have Y/n.”

That got his attention real quick. 

Grabbing his utility belt, he sprinted out of his agency taking to the streets, using an ice trail to get there as quick as possible.

When he arrived to the location he was given ( A quaint little bakery that practically screamed you), he wasted no time. 

He burst in, letting ice spread everywhere it could touch, effectively trapping anyone and anything in his way.

He let out a low chirp to try and find you, internally sighing in relief when you chirped back.

Shoto would waste no time at all finding you, unfreezing you only to carry you back home, leaving the other heroes to deal with the backlash

Not that they blamed him.

His omega was targeted directly, so to risk him going into an alpha rage just to melt it?

They would rather get arthritis chipping away at it. 

Later at home, Shoto would not let you out of his sight for the life of him. 

You couldn’t even pee in peace.

It was like a flipped was switch in your alpha.

All of his one barricaded instincts were now out in the open full force.

And as you laid against your alpha, in all honesty, you couldn’t be prouder.

Ignorantly, Yours

Word Count: 10.6k

Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader

Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms

Rating: 18+

Summary:  You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.

A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.

–

Maybe it should have been embarrassing.

Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.

5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.

It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.

Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.

But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.

That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.

And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.

Keep reading

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Masterlist)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who’s clearly been through some shit).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy, slowish-burn,  

W/c: 200k+  

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or Saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own. The M/c won’t appear until part two! 

READ THIS STORY HERE ON AO3

Extra content: Honey cake Recipe 

Prologue: The Beta 

Summary: The pre-story is as sweet as honey and as simple as every other love story. Namjoon’s pack falls together before it falls apart. 

Part One: Sweet Regret  

Summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places. 

Part Two: The Don  

Summary: On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner. But he judges you and finds you worthy of protecting (and loving too).

Part Three: The Gala 

Summary: Yoongi tries to steal you away, Geumjae takes something instead. 

Part Four: If I’ve Got You 

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice. 

Part Five: An Unlikely Enemy 

Summary: Namjoon’s pack reunites with Yoongi. With some…unexpected results.

Part Six: Stupid Instincts

Summary: it takes three visits for you to trust Jimin. 

Part Seven: Yoongi’s Worst Fear 

Summary: it’s easy to forget that your bond is still new, but luckily, the pack is there to fill the gaps. 

Part Eight: Seokjin’s Secret

Summary: Everything takes a little getting used to. Namjoon’s a little in love already.

Part Nine: Aura  

Summary: Oh Jungkookie 

Part Ten: Blame Me For it

summary: you couldn’t expect everyone to love you instantly, but still- yoongi kind of hoped.

Part Eleven: Before I Love You 

Summary: what is love other than a particular kind of envy? Hoseok envys you in more ways than one. 

Part Twelve: Civil Midnight 

Summary: A love story that starts with a train ticket, an old jean jacket, and a cup of shitty coffee.

Part Thirteen: Moving Day 

Summary: Namjoon has royally fucked up, luckily the pack has a place to go. “what if this is a bad idea hyung?” 

Part Fourteen: Like a Sigh 

Summary: Seokjin isn’t ready to forgive namjoon just yet, luckily he has you and yoongi to turn to for some good old omegan comfort (ie: cuddling)

Part Fifteen: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Celedon Green

Summary: Tae is at one moment, overcome with fear and longing, “Get out! don’t look! please! i don’t want you to see me!”

Part Sixteen: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Babygirl Pink

Summary: A secret for a secret is exchanged. “You’re so pretty Tae.” 

Part Seventeen: Just a little Nip

Summary: Things are often clearer the day after, but if anything Taehyung only feels more confused about where she stands with you.

Part Eighteen: Mine, mine, mine

Summary: Tae’s rut hits and hits hard, luckily the pack is there to soften its blow.

Part Nineteen: Honey bunny 

Summary: discussions about your past cause some troubling facts to come to light, but amidst the sadness- there is also love.

Part Twenty: No Sinners

Summary: try as you might, you just cant get the idea of those sex-toy boxes out of your head.

Part Twenty-one: No Saints 

Summary: The thing about Jimin is that he’s a little bit of a psycho

Part twenty-Two: Playing Dead 

Summary: After finding you in such a compromising position, the pack has their questions (and a few confessions)

Part Twenty-Three: Heart shaped Hickey’s 

Summary: you don’t know what you expected this discussion to look like, but Jungkook dumping his sex toy collection in the middle of the nest definitly isn’t it. 

Part Twenty-Four: Cynosure 

Summary: if Yoongi could comment “first” on your pussy’s yelp review, he would. (he’d also rate it 10/5 starts, because whatever he expected- it’s twice as good.)

Part Twenty Five: Just Try 

Summary: You hate hospitals.

Part Twenty Six: Mommy issues 

Summary: Tae is not only Jimin’s favorite person, but yours too. 

Part Twenty seven: Strawberry Soda

Summary: Taehyung thinks that girl dates are better than regular ones, but she could just be biased because it’s a date with you. 

💜💜💜

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!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

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.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.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

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.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.”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

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!

Bitch in Heat Stuck Under Debris Gets WRECKED

a miki mouse whorehouse collab, the m.list you can find here 

cw: sexual harrassment, abo themes, dubcon kinda

as the poor quality picture can’t really show you, I got stuckage and I chose Bakugo with the finishing touch of making it ABO <3 It’s also two days late but shhhhh we don’t talk about it uwu also 2.7 words of pain enjoy 

katsuki bakugou is becoming a thorn in your side.

you’ve both been metaphorically and somewhat literally glued to each others sides since highschool. it’s not necessarily a bad thing, to be quite frank katsuki is something of a deterrent in a world of second genders and pheromones— something you capitalized on in high school.

being an omega hero isn’t something entirely world shattering, but it’s a position that comes with lots of stereotypes— stereotypes you fought tooth and nail to fight against in your younger years. being one of four omegas in your class was...irritating, to say the least. lots of preconceived notions that you needed to be helped with trivial things, and while your classmates intentions came from a good place it was maddening. save for katsuki, back when he had no restraint with his anger and aggression, he didn’t coddle you like your classmates did. Labeled a brute for his actions towards his omega classmates in trivial interaction or sparring, you thrived on the normality— katsuki was an ass to everyone. Your omega was placated, finally encountering an alpha who wasn’t belittling her with preconceived daintiness.

it was easy to hang near katsuki, ignoring the atrocity that was his vocabulary. eventually like the rest of the peanut gallery that was the bakusquad, you just existed alongside katsuki— which meant that you grew on him. katsuki swears up and down that you’re all a nuisance but you’ve seen him go up to bat for all you at some point, you knew you’d all made some sort of ragtag pack with one another. this was rather amazing to you at the time, not to sell yourself short but you’d never really imagined belonging to a close knit group of friends— especially realizing that they understood when it was appropriate to step in for you. katsuki in particular had a knack for being at the right place at the right time.

During your second year you fumbled.

interning with miruko had its perks, a top 5 hero with raw strength, cunning, and the drive to just keep going— and an omega. landing and internship with her had been a dream, even more-so when you learned she’d been watching you since your first year because of the festival. bright eyed and eager, nothing could have dampened your spirits— neither katsuki and his usual moody behavior or the standoffish alpha from shiketsu. yes, you all had landed an internship with miruko and part of you was...worried? katsuki had never looked down on heroes based on their second genders but you couldn’t speak for the shiketsu alpha, both alphas interning under an established omega hero put your inner omega on edge— you didn’t quite know why though. but you chose to squash the feeling and enjoy your internship with who was essentially your idol and continue on.

then you started getting sexually harassed.

his name was omori kisai and he was the worst. hailing from shiketsu, known for their dignified schooling, he was far from it. salacious comments dropped when no one was listening, less that appropriate touching when passing by and just general ick that had your skin crawling and omega snarling. it was easy to brush it off as banter the first time, section off the awkward contact as an accident. The second time you made it clear the comments were not liked and the touches far from appropriate, after the third time you’d snap an insult or have to hold a trembling fish from making contact. but it was coming to a head and your suppressors could only do so much to hide your souring scent. looking back you should have said something, but your pride had told you that it was a necessary step to overcome and push through— that he wouldn’t be the last. it weighed you down, day by day, a heavy cloud that wouldn’t let up. one particular bad timed comment brought tears to eyes and shame to your entire being.

thankfully, as time would come to show, katsuki tended to nose into your dilemmas.

the day prior to the abrupt end of your harassment  you’d been tripped up by a villian and had fallen a sizeable distance into a pitiful excuse of pond. of course, omori had taken this as an open invitation to mock you and then offer you his shitty hero costume cloak— not without hinting at you returning the favor ‘somehow’. yeah right. you had stomped off, unaware of katsuki’s presence nearby. come next day, omori avoided you like the plague and katsuki not so subtly stuck to your side like an unwilling chowchow— all growly and temperamental. but his constant presence rubbed his scent off on you. despite his less than chummy attitude, you weren’t mad; katsuki smelled like cinnamon spice and whiskey with hints of burnt caramel— absolutely overpowering yet decadent all the same.

you tried not to think about just how much you enjoyed his smell. your omega was purring about it.

the omori incident was the beginning of katsuki’s subtle hovering. though you pried the truth of his involvement in omori leaving you alone after offhandedly bringing it up to mina and jirou one day, katsuki helped you out of situations as invasively as possible time and time again. by the end of third year it was no secret to you of your classmates teasing of your relationship with katsuki; an amiable and prideful omega and the irritable powerhouse of an alpha. you brushed it off because...well you didn’t know why, but katsuki’s seeming indifference to the teasing had you quelling every jittery happiness your inner omega expressed at the thought of katsuki being your alpha.

now, three years out of highschool and beginning to climb the ranks, katsuki was becoming testy— and for the life of you the reason couldn’t be more opaque.  you both work at the same agency, and due to the nature of your quirks you spend all your time together due to their compatibility. compatibility was a bitter word for you, katsuki and yours supposed compatibility had been talked about for some time now but the sobering reality is that perhaps you two were simply good friends— and now sharing your omegas endearment for the explosive alpha had reared its ugly head.

your heat was a week away and already you felt the familiar fatigue begin to lap at you alongside general moodiness. all that coupled with the annoying need to be around katsuki was maddening and sprinkling his own extra grouchy attitude on top and you were ready to snap. in hindsight, that should have been your cue to take an extra week off— instead you chose to once again to champion pride instead of your intellect.

you could have stayed home this morning, you should have.

patrol had been slow, not particularly unusual but favored nonetheless. face raised to the slowly dipping sun you couldn’t help but sigh, the warmth of the late afternoon sun was heaven sent-- you could sleep standing up with much issue. it remided you katsuki, strangely enough though most things did recently.

the sound of screaming and rushing feet shook you from your drowsy stupor. Set on alert, you spied the source of the sudden discordance and found several villains causing a commotion. quickly calling for backup for you before finding yourself facing a hulking mass of green charging you head on. tranquility gone, it was time to fight.

the ache in your body could not be more apparent but your humiliation ran more rampant in your system than any ache or pain could, your fatigue more than present as your body hummed with warmth. leave it to you to get stuck face down and ass up amongst the trashed ruins of what was an office building, weighed down between a broken desk and a collapsed bookshelf. the villain you had engaged with, some self-named idiot calling himself cruel croc, packed a punch and your bruised body and rendered office floor were a testament to that. of course, you’d done quite the bit of damage to him yourself before the entire floor collapsed underneath you both— rendering the meathead unconscious under a rather hefty pile of concrete and debris whereas you were pinned and to utterly weak to do much.

the thrum of your heat was beginning its path of vengeance through your body, feeling too pliant to get yourself out of what was otherwise easy to fix problem. you were feeling it, bad. the heat of your clothed cunt was beginning to become too apparent, unconsciously squeezing your thighs to provide relief to no avail. no, this could not be happening right now of all times. but as much as your inner monologue fought to try and will away your heat, the warmth was becoming too much and sudden breeze of wind had you trembling and whining. the feel of slick beginning to wet your hero costumes spandex set your hazing thoughts into sudden panic, if cruel croc woke up or if another villain came across you would they be above...the thought alone could’ve made you puke. flashbacks to second year had you bucking wildly for freedom, you wouldn’t let anyone have the opportunity for—

“ OI! Shitty ‘mega were are you? Are you—“

you stilled, biting hard to keep your mouth shut. your omega was whimpering, desperate for the alpha, HER alpha to relieve her from her heat. on a normal day she could melt into his scent, but right now? she could drown in it and die happy. with his scent getting stronger the closer katsuki clambered toward you, the more the head haze grew-- the slicker your thighs became. the whimper you let loose was pitiful, the need for some sort of stimulation to your cunt becoming near painful the longer you remained so close yet so far from katsuki. the pathetic little “alpha” you whined as you heard him quickly approach from behind would’ve been utterly embarrassing to you in any other situation.

but if you could have turned to see katsuki, you would’ve been met with the look of an unmistakably feral alpha-- pupils dilated to hell, fingernails blackened, and canines elongated and sharpened. but what you lacked in sight, you could hear and smell.

katsuki was the definition of an alpha as is, but the way he was pushing his scent out was like a big red sign that screamed ‘DANGER’. To you, it had you feeling utterly submissive-- if you weren’t already face down and ass up you certainly would’ve moved into position.  practically salivating at the thought of what katsuki could do--

the heated palm on the globe of your ass is thought pausing, the sudden heated touch coaxing a sugary sweet moan from deep in your throat-- the small touch quickly turning to rough palming at your moaning. tt feels so good, but you want more. need more. 

“Please, need more Alpha” it's breathy and whiny, something you're far from day to day but it feels too natural escaping you. mewling at the ghost of a touch over your clothed cunt, your blubbering when it presses harder-- escalating you to tears of frustration when it ceases. practically feeling katsuki’s harsh breathing near your cunt you begin to wiggle and wail with all manner of unrestrained vigor; chanting alpha and katsuki like a prayer and begging for relief like a sinner for forgiveness. it’s working, you know it is, if katsuki’s breathing is anything to go by but he refuses any further touching. you want katsuki everyday, but right now you need him. 

“Only want you Katsuki, please it’s only been you,” you hiccup your words through a shrill plea, but the tearing of your soaked spandex sends an excited chill down your spine. your legs tremble with excitement when katsuki grips the tops of your thighs and spreads them-- revealing your drooling cunt. it’s both too much and not enough all at once and you wiggle once more, yelping from a smack to your left ass cheek. it’s not particularly painful, not even as katsuki rubs over it right after the hit, but it quells your wiggling nonetheless. you open your mouth to urge him on but he beats you to it.

“No one else, you got that ‘mega? No one gets to see you like this, no gets to touch you like this-- your mine,” he punctuates his declaration with two of his deliciously thick fingers in your cunt and you squeal, “ you got that? I’m your alpha, always have been always will be.” nodding despite yourself, you struggle for words with his fingers pumping in and out alongside the ghost of pressure on your clit “Yes! Yes, I’m yours Katsuki!” you babble your words already teetering on the precipice of your first orgasm. it takes a pickup in pace and a rough rub along your clit and your wailing, slick streaming down your thighs as your first orgasm crashes into you.

despite the pleasant haze in your head, you faintly hear zippers being undone and the shuffling of clothes. licking your lips, you perk your ass up as much as the heavy bookcase allows, purring in excitement like a spoiled cat. The rough grab of your hips leaves you gasping, feeling the length of katsukis dick along your thigh-- long and heavy. you're salivating as he lines himself up with your weeping cunt, ramming his entire length in you with little regard. stars shoot across your vision and your ears deafen, crying out at being so full. it feels wonderful being stuffed this full and you babble it to katsuki. if you could see him, you would see just how prideful and smug he looked-- only he can take care of you like this, none of the other shitty alphas can take care of you this well.

katsuki sets a rough pace, drawing himself out slowly like he’s aiming for you to feel every vein of his dick before slamming back into you. your poor cunt clenches sporadically, drawing groans and growls from your alpha and all you can do is choke on broken moans because the way he feels churning your insides is downright sinful. you felt a band begin to tighten in your belly, your broken moans evolving into babbling-- how good katsuki was making you feel and how he was the only one who made you feel this good. it spurred him onward, fucking into you with more vigor alongside groans of your names and his own praise for you. “Good fuckin ‘mega”, “Takin’ me so well”, and “My perfect little mate” were some of the praise you could catch and had you preening. All of it combined you felt the band tighten and you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing out. feeling the base of Katsuki’s length begin to swell, you could only salivate at the thought of being knotted.

“Want your knot Katsuki! Alpha I need it”

 at your blubbering demand, katsuki faltered in pace for only a moment before a deep mix of a groan and growl ripped from his throat. grabbing and bending your leg upwards he fucked deeper and faster into your battered cunt, the new angle sending you hurtling into your orgasm. eyes rolled back and tongue, you felt utterly boneless-- momentarily brain dead before screaming out at Katsuki knotting you, his own groan of pleasure mixing with yours as he filled you impossibly full with his seed. 

 trembling underneath him, you were only a fraction aware of movement above you before the weight of the bookcase vanished from you. weakly you glance back up at your alpha. your surprised to see just how feral he looks, no doubt you’ve pushed him into his rut. whimpering as he moves down upon you, he nibbles and kisses along your jaw and neck before biting down on you scent gland. a flash a white hot pain curtailed by just as intense pleasure wracks your wrecked body but the dopy look of happiness pulls a low purr from katsuki.

you wanna say something, anything, but your too exhausted and as katsuki knot subsides you let another weak whimper as he removes himself-- feeling his seed spill from your battered cunt. he pulls a quiet moan from you as he gathers some of it a pushes back in-- and a glance at his smug face lets you know that he’s decidedly not done with you yet.

Oct.1-Sun-2:30 am

Wrote this while super tired and delirious 😎

TW: Pet names, Omega Fem!reader, human/civilian Bang Chan, slight breeding kink?, P.I.V, intentional un-protected sex, slight blindfold kink, scent kink

☆

I can just imagine his dick inside you, pressing against the soft ridges of your gummy walls feverishly.

His hips not stopping for a moment as he snaps them against your ass like an animal. He’s a little peeved by your moans being muffled by the pillow that your face is currently stuffed into, your tears soaking the fabric that covered your eyes.

“What’s that baby?” He grunts, teasing you with a grin as you moaned loudly again. “Huh? Speak princess.” He mocked as his hand left one of your hips and gathered your hair into a low ponytail.

Swiftly, he tugged on your hair which forcefully lifted your head from the pillow. It was like you were a dog, being pulled by your hair as if it was a leash.

His thrusts didn’t falter one bit as he pounded into you relentlessly. “Come on baby, tell me how good you feel.” He cooed, an obvious smirk in his tone you could imagine even though you couldn’t see him.

“S-so… mh-hm…” you could barely get the words out, whimpering and moaning at the sheer impact of his thrusts meeting your core. You swore you would feel his tip bruising the entrance of your cervix.

He hummed again, feigning annoyance at your lack of words. “Speak.” He commanded, playing into the fantasy of you just being a needy omega. A damn mutt for him to play with.

Your mind was clouded, the omega in you bursting with happiness and pleasure as she felt her needs be met by the mer human that had saved you all those years ago.

You were also grateful for Chan, of course you were. Saving you from that illegal omega breeding ring was the best day of your life, but the day he finally helped you with your heat quickly topped it.

And that day was today. After 3 hopeless years of begging every time your heat came he finally caved in and decided to help you. Now you could stop that pathetic act of humping his pillows, of surrounding yourself of his scent despite him not even being an alpha.

All humans had scents, and thanks to your heightened senses during heats you could smell it more clearly.

Usually only an alpha’s scent could satisfy the need of an omega, atleast enough to not make him/her/them crazy. But for some reason Chans was enough, it was always more than enough but also almost not enough if that made sense.

It was enough to stop her from clawing her way out the house and looking for someone to fuck her like an actual dog in heat, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the ache in her core.

Again, usually only an alpha’s or beta’s cock could satisfy her hungry need of being filled up and used.

Chan somehow, did even more than that. It made her stupid, it made her so stupid she was drunk off of the feeling of him inside her.

With each delicious thrust she was only growing nearer to her release.

“C-Channie..” she moaned, chest heaving as she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her face. He knew she wanted something, she had a question but he wasn’t going to go easy on her.

“Spit it out puppy.” I whispered, kissing the shell of her ear while continuing his merciless pounding into her.

She whined and moaned, breath faltering a bit as she babbled on her words. “B-back, on my back!” She pleaded, wanted to face him before she had her first ever orgasm with him.

He graciously gave her what she wanted and pulled out slowly to flip her on her back. “Is that all baby?” He asked, a loving tone replacing the teasing one he was using just a few minutes ago.

“See you, I want to see you!” She begged, asking him if her blindfold could come off.

He chuckled a little bit before uttering the word ‘cute’ and slowly untying the fabric that was covering her eyes.

She stared up at him with glossy eyes that were a bit red from the tears of pleasure that was rippling through her a few moments ago.

He gave her a few cheek and temple kisses as she adjusted to the red LED’s lighting up the room.

Her nose instinctively buried into his neck where his scent was the strongest and she let out a groan at the smell she grew to love oh so much.

“Ready darling?” Chan whispered softly, his hands sliding down to grip onto her hips. She nodded slowly and with that he began pushing in.

His mushroom top of a dick provided an amazing stretch to her core and she let out a few pants at the feeling she wished she could have every day.

She could hear his soft chuckles of delight as he looked down at her flushed and fuck-out expression on her face.

Inch by inch, he slowly eased in despite not having to because she was dripping with slick and she was already stretched out by his delicious fat cock.

“M-move.” She squeaked, her hands already making a move to grip onto his shoulders and nails into his shoulder blades. “Shit baby, do I make you feel good? Huh? Omega’s happy?” He grunted, nose scrunching at the feeling of her tight walls squeezing his length and nails digging into his skin.

“Yes! Yes!” She squealed, head thrown back to the pillow as he finally bottomed out again. “What do you want sweetheart? Rough or sweet?” He questioned with a grin, knowing the fact he wasn’t moving at all was irking her a tiny bit.

She whined a little at the question, her brain not being able to pick and just wanting him to move. “R-rough, I don’t care!” She whimpered, one hand cupping the back of his neck as the other reached farther down his back to claw at the soft, smooth, skin.

He grunted again before chuckling darkly at the feeling of her lips colliding with his when she pulled him down.

“You asked for it~” He whispered against the soft, pillowy, pink lips of his precious omega.

Without a second to waste he leaned back a bit to slowly pull out. It made your eyes open wide at the alarming thought of his filling pulling out. “Chan-!” You’re cut off before you get the chance to beg him to not pull out when he slams back in.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he picks up the speed from before, effortlessly pounding into you over and over again.

The familiar feeling of his tip pushing against your cervix made you clench around him in awe. He was just so big and long to be able to do that.

Your little whimpers and moans mixed with his groans and grunt filled the room along with the sound of skin on skin compact and the smell of sex.

The atmosphere was just right, it was perfect in fact. This was your 6th heat since living with Chan, you get 2 annual heats per year. One at the beginning and one at the end. Only now were you able to properly get through one of your heats.

You had imagined it to be sweeter, all cozy and soft, maybe not even during the night but afternoon, an hour before the sun even sets.

You imagined the soft golden glow encapsulating you and your alpha as he spoiled you rotten with his love.

That was what you imagined before you met Chan, before you were kidnapped at the age of 17 and shipped country to country for the idea of using you as a breeding omega. It was the same year you had discovered your secondary gender.

You had only told your close family and a few ‘trusted friends’. It was during the time when omegas were getting kidnapped left and right so you had a good reason to not want to tell many people.

Obviously someone let it slip and that’s when you were ambushed on your way home from school, beaten half to death and dragged to a van.

They made sure to cut your hair short, dying it and giving you a tattoo in the symbol of a star, trying their best to make you like the exact opposite of what you looked like so you weren’t recognizable if someone were to see you.

You were chained every day and fed sloppy seconds as they tried to beat you into submission.

They tried to brainwash you, make you think this was all good. They were only making your job easier for you, you wouldn’t have to look anymore to find someone to ease your omega’s desires.

You had fought back at every guy that had bought you, clawing and not letting them get anywhere near your panties.

They often gave up quickly, not wanting to deal with a hardheaded omega and returning you back to the illegal omega breeding ring.

Right when you turned 24 was when cops found out about the ring, finding the hideout quickly and catch everyone that was involved. Every omega got transferred to their family’s, to any family they could find at least.

But yours? Somehow the guys that kidnapped you were able to wipe you off of the face of the earth.

No family, no medical records, No high school or middle school registration, not even elementary school!

You were nothing, you had nothing.

But than Chan found you, he had heard the news of the illegal omega breeding ring being busted and founded out and went down to the police station where they were asking for volunteers to help house any omegas that didn’t have any family to go back to.

The idea was to help them until they had a stable job to have their own life.

There were other people in that day, majority of them being A/O/B, all but Chan.

He was the only human that cared enough to help, and maybe that’s why you walked over and tried your best to catch his scent.

It had shocked him really, you were so tiny, visibly shaking as you tried your best to walk.

Your eyes were wide and as soon as you made eye contact with his brown eyes you melted.

It was like any other omega meeting a kind alpha. Expect, Chan wasn’t an Alpha and he didn’t even think about anything romantic towards you for a while.

It was only during this last year did he start to see you in a different light.

At first when you begged him to help with your heat he was so shocked and horrified that he panicked and freaked out.

That wasn’t ethical at all, I mean, what kind of person would he be to sleep with an omega who just came out of a breeding ring?

Obviously it was just her omega talking, she didn’t know what was happening and she was completely controlled by the wolf inside her.

He would never take advantage of her. The second year was far worse, that was the year he suggested he stayed out of the house during her heats so she wouldn’t be tempted to try and sleep with him.

She was too embarrassed to disagree with him and instead just nodded, letting him do as he pleased. During the first annual heat he stayed over at a friend’s house like he said and it completely ruined her.

Yes, it was hard having his constant scent around her, almost teasing her and mocking the fact she couldn’t be railed by him.

But the lack of scent drove her absolutely insane. Only the faint scent of him on his sheets and clothes were able to ground her even though she felt like ripping the whole house to shreds.

She was going absolutely feral without him and she made sure to express that when he got home after her heat.

“Please don’t leave ever again! It was torture.” She pouted the second he walked through their door.

He was confused and surprised by it before she jumped into his arms, face nuzzling into his neck.

Thankfully he stayed during her second annual heat of that year and she did much better.

Now it’s the 3rd year, it’s currently her first annual heat and she’s in utter bliss.

She only explained her feelings for him after he made another suggestion.

“What if I find you an alpha to help you through your heats? I have a few friends that could help, obviously it would be consensual but maybe that would help you?” He asked, they were on the topic of her heat since it was scheduled to start in a week.

If it was any other situation, if he was any other person, she would probably agree with him. Tell him to ask around, reassure him they would be using the alpha’s house so he wouldn’t have to hear this animalistic breeding sounds.

But this was Chan, this was the human the single handily made her hot and slicked up without it even being her heat. Without even knowing and trying to arouse her.

She felt so loved and protected by him, his sweet side making her want to see him in a different light.

Wanting to see just how rough he could be, how commanding he would be in the bedroom. The fantasy of having a soft and loving first time changed into an erotic and dirty first time with the one and only Bang Christoper Chan.

“No.” She pouted, leaning against the kitchen island as he was on the opposite side with a mug of tea in hand.

“What?” He questioned, a bit surprised by her curt and serious tone as she answered. “I don’t want my want my heat with someone else, I want you.” She lightly whined, continuing to pout as his cheeks flared up.

She wasn’t under the influence of her omega right now, she was still in a stable mind so he couldn’t make an excuse of saying it was only her omega talking.

“Chan.” She started, walking around the kitchen island to stand in front of him, resting both her hands over the top of his. “I need you. My omega doesn’t crave just anybody to scratch her desires, she craves the man that has mine and her’s full trust. Our full heart.

She tried her best to explained, she wasn’t attracted to him because he was the closets male to her, that reason wasn’t even on the list.

He was shocked at first, breath hitched at the confession.

Is that why she was more brazen lately? Only wearing one of his shirts and those thin navy blue panties around the house.

Or a pair of super-short athletic shorts and matching white sports bra.

She no longer locked the door when taking a bath, even barging in to use the toilet whenever he was using taking a shower.

She was getting more comfortable around him and he noticed it quickly, thinking it was her way of playing the long run and getting him to finally fuck her through her heat.

“But- I-I’m no alpha..” he said, stuttering a bit as she grew closer to him. “I know, it’s weird and confusing to me too. But your scent.”

She paused, her mouth watering and she had to suppress a groan once catching a whiff of his scent. “Your scent drives me crazy, it makes my omega scream to be bred, to have you pump me full of pups.”

He could hear the whine on her voice, the utter thirst she has for him and he felt slightly dizzy.

He would be straight up lying to say he didn’t find her attractive, she was the definition of beauty in his eyes. Her hair was at the perfect length that frames her face, eyes always doe like whenever in heat, pupils blown up 3x their regular size.

She was so tempting, and he felt so bad about it. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, or her primal instincts whenever she was in heat. Maybe this was her preheat, yeah, that had to be it.

It was unheard of an omega wanting a human. That wasn’t possible, it wasn’t in her nature.

“Chan.” She said again, more timely as she gazed up at him with a pleasing look in her eyes.

“Please Chan, trust my words. I’m telling the truth.” She whispered, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt into little balled up fists.

Her insides churned with nervousness, it would absolutely break her if he rejected her again, she would probably cry and hide away in the nest she already built on her bed.

The same nest she wanted him in, to cuddle and cradle her to sleep, she wished the nest was on his bed instead.

“Ok..” his soft voice drew her out of her thought, her head snapping back up to meet his slightly less guilty looking eyes. “Ok darling, I’ll help. But this is totally consensual right? I will never do this again if you regret it in the slightest.”

She nodded her head vigorously, a huge smile gracing her feature. “Thank you Channie!” She squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck and using the position to sneakily catch a whiff of his scent.

“Can we move my nest then?” She asked, smiling a bit more shyly with redden cheeks.

“To where?” His eyebrows furrowed, he hadn’t even seen it yet, making sure to stay clear of her room because he had read that omegas are very strict about who gets to enter their nest. He just didn’t expect to be the lucky one to be accepted into it.

“Your bed, please.” She slightly whined despite Chan not doing anything to detest to her question. “Ok, I guess… if that’ll help with your heat. Do you need help moving it?”

She nodded her head again and dragged him to her room, opening the door as his eyes widened at the sight.

He felt crazy every day because it seemed like his clothes were slowly going missing, he was sure the washing machine was eating them up.

Instead it was his omega, his omega who needed his scent more than anything.

The nest was huge, seemingly too big for even his bed that was a California king.

Still, they moved it slowly but surely into his room, the omega rearranging it many times until it felt good enough for her likings. Despite Chan not having the same instincts as her he still tried his best to help her out and rearrange anything that she told him to.

His pillows created support to her head as she laid in the middle of the nest, softly panting.

She was growing dizzy at how much of his scent she was able to have on her, her brain short-circuiting.

“C-Chan.” She whined, eyes shooting up before sitting up. “Help.” she whined, alreayd rubbing her thighs together as she felt a throbbing ache in her core.

“But, but- your heat isn’t for another week.” He said, shocked that she was already begging for him. “Early.” She simply answered, her chest heaving as she crawled over to him and clutched onto his shirt like in the kitchen. “Early Chan, it came early.” She further explained and he silently cursed.

He felt like she needed more time, more time to think it over but now she was clouded by her needs. “Are you sure? 100%-“

She cut him off with a long whine, pulling him into her while falling back and into the bed. “Please Chan! I need you to mate me, I need you to fill me up and make me go dumb. I want to cry on your cock and arch my back off the bed, I want to be so lost in the feeling that I shake like crazy!!”

She begged and begged and he couldn’t let it go for any longer. He finally caved in, and he finally decided to strip his and hers clothes off so he could satisfy all her needs and desires.

Now they were on round 3, with each round growing more brave with the positions, with the kisses and pet names.

Each time Chan edged her, not quite letting her cum and even pulling out to spill himself on her tummy. Each time she whined and begged for him to let her cum, or to at least not pull out when he finishes.

“Eyes on me gorgeous.” His rough voice said, her eyes immediately snapping toward him as they grew foggy with tears. “Awh, poor baby.”

He cooed, grinning while leaning down lightly to kiss her cheeks while simultaneously wiping away the few tears that fell.

His hips never faltered, almost like a pistol that fires off every second. Her mind was incredibly clouded with lust, moans erupting from her at every slight shift he made.

“Close! S-so close~” she whined, her nails digging into his back which created shallow scratch marks that burned his skin. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist? Because he absolutely loved the feeling.

“Close? Gonna cum? Am I going to let my princess cum?” He mocked, a sob emitting from her as she cries out in pleasure. “Please Chan!!” She begged, nails digging in harder and her eyes widened as he only went faster.

He was silently giving into her cries, this time he was going to let her cum, finally.

She babbled out, chanting his name over and over again that only fueled him more. He dipped his head, biting into her shoulder as a means to ground himself which only made her moan louder.

Her legs shook, and her back arched off the mattress as the white hot coil in her lower abdomen snapped and she came all of him. His hips faltered a bit before also cumming, his semen shooting into her like a rocket and painting her wall white.

She huffed and whined at the feeling of finally being filled up, her core sore and felt like it was bruised from the powerful thrusts of him inside.

“Thank you Channie.” You whispered softly, finally feeling your omega within calm down.

Chan only grunted in reply, his muscles relaxing as he slowly laid on top of you, his hands sliding up from your hips and around your waist. “Did such a good job baby, took me so well.” He praised, whispering softly into her ear which only made her smile brighter.

She couldn’t help but purr in satisfaction, wrapping her arms around his neck and scent him once again.

“Round 4?”

YOU BELONG

ALPHA! 0T7 (YOONMIN CENTRIC) X OMEGA!CHUBBY! READER A/B/O - SUGAR DADDY AU

CHAPTER 26 (4.2k words)

For more information about this story, find it here

Your POV

I turn in bed, knots filling my stomach and heart as I rethink over and over again about the fight. Did I perhaps go too far in my accusations? Gosh, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I don’t know what came over me.

I only wanted to let them know that I didn’t like them deciding everything for me, but instead ended up throwing a bucket of simmering anger over their head without warning. Namjoon’s reaction only fuelled that, and I lost sight of myself.

Now… what now? What happens if I’m not within their pack’s protection? Does that mean we can’t spend time together again? Will everything get awkward and stiff between us? Did I ruin everything by trying to speak up my mind?

I sigh deeply, then move out of bed to reach the kitchen, eyes glancing briefly at the time on the oven to find that it’s only three in the morning. I don’t even know if I managed to sleep an hour or two since, my mind unable to stop going over the fight again and again.

I make myself a glass of water and slowly drink it down, knowing very well that sleeping won’t be possible tonight.

Looking over the counter to find the cupcakes I’d made in Bora’s class left untouched makes me feel even worse, and I drop my weight over the counter, glass set aside and head in my hands. I’d made those thinking of the pack.

I foolishly hoped that I could have made them proud by giving them something that I made, to show them that I too could be good in the kitchen, if given the chance. It all sounds so stupid now, that I’m almost embarrassed about it.

None of what I’d hoped for happened, in the end, other than the fact that I indeed made something edible in a kitchen.

Oh well. What happened has happened, and I need to move forward. Today, I’m going outside again. I need to look for a job and that means pushing myself out of my comfort zone a whole lot more than I did yesterday.

I don’t know what kind of job someone like me can get, but I shouldn’t be too picky if I want to earn money. I’ll have to make myself presentable and wear something clean and formal. I don’t know how it’ll go, but unless I try, I’ll never find out.

Nodding to myself as I stand tall again, I move to the bathroom to get showered despite the early hour. Success won’t wait until I’m ready to live normally, so I’ll show my mates that I can be an omega they can be proud of, at all cost.

---

The woman looks me up and down before pursing her lips, a hand to her chin before she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, you’re not exactly what we’re looking for here. Your makeup looks great, if maybe a little simple. Your clothes are perfect, but the body… our customers won’t feel comfortable if we hire you. Good luck in your search”.

I bite down a bitter remark, then bow before leaving the store. What has my body to do with selling their products? Why would my body shape make people uncomfortable? If anything, it’s their mindset that should make them uncomfortable!

Since I got here, I’ve visited a couple stores that had a job application on the front door. It didn’t look like any of their requirements would get in my way, but what they don’t say is that in the end, it’s not your skills that get you a job, it’s your face.

Or body, in my case. That’s been used a few times to reject me and I’m getting more offended than I am hurt. I look at the time on my phone to find that it’s already nearly ten in the morning, which acts as a bit of a shock to me.

Time went by so fast, I’ve been walking around here for three hours already? How did I not notice? To think that I haven’t found anything yet… how ridiculous. I huff on the sidewalk, then glare back when a human stares at me weird.

It’s possible that my not eating breakfast could have a say in why I feel particularly bothered by every looks I’m given right now, but after all that I heard so far… I don’t really want to eat. I look down at my body, a frown on my face.

I could handle not eating until tonight. Hell, I could probably starve for a whole week and still be fine.

Finding a park nearby, I cross the street before walking to a lone bench beneath a tree, then sit down with a droop to my shoulders. What kind of job can someone like me do that I haven’t attempted yet? Is there even one place out here that would accept me?

What did I do with In-yeop and Dal before my amnesia? I wonder if I could try to get my job back there… I haven’t tried any of the convenience stores either, maybe that would be easier for someone like me. I don’t think they really care who they hire as long as the job is done.

But how is working at a convenience store something my mates would be proud of? Maybe I’m trying to set the bar too high for what I’m able to achieve, but I really don’t want to get their pity by working a job they’d consider… lowly.

Damn it. I did say that I shouldn’t be too picky. I should start by re-evaluating my priorities. What is most important to me? Making my mates proud, or earning money? Priorities, Y/N. You can’t have everything at the same time.

I hear a car slow down behind me then, and I twist my neck slightly to find a police car parking on the side of the road, exactly where I am.

Great. This is just great. Did someone call the cops on me because I sat in the park? Is that forbidden for fat people too? Is there nothing I’m allowed in this city? I’m starting to feel very bitter, I would probably bite someone if given the chance.

Maybe I shouldn’t bite a cop, though.

With my eyes trained on the police car, mind already conjuring the worst scenarios possible, I can only tense up when the door opens to Hoseok the very next second, eyes widening when his gaze falls on me with a tight smile.

His scent of strawberry pie is sweet, though, and I relax a little as he comes over to sit next to me in his work uniform.

“What are you doing here, sweet bun?” he asks with a gentle voice, as if he’s afraid of scaring me off were he to talk a little louder. “I saw you crossing the street from one of the stores looking…” he pinches his lips lightly, “dejected? Angry? Did something happen?”

I look down, fingers twisting together nervously at his question. “It’s my first time seeing you in your work uniform. It looks good on you” I mutter instead of answering him. He just had to go straight to the point, huh? I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

He hums, hands patting his pants to adjust some minor detail in the creases.

“Thank you, baby” he murmurs, lips pursing in unease. “Do you need me to drive you anywhere? Can I be of help to you? Or is leaving you alone what you need? I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, I can go if that’s better”.

I unconsciously grab his hand when he makes a move to stand up, and only then does he find out how cold they are. He scoots closer, both of his hands wrapping around mine to warm them up, eyes furrowed in thoughts as he tries to figure out what it is that I need most right now.

I sigh softly, knowing that I’m the one making things difficult at the moment. He just wants to help, there’s no reason for me to push him away.

“I’m sorry, Hobi. I’m just… it’s embarrassing, really. I was out looking for a job, but they keep using my body to refuse hiring me and I don’t know how to feel anymore. I want to make the pack proud, but it seems I keep failing no matter what I do, be it at home or out here”.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, seeing the shame in my eyes now that I’m not hiding it anymore. “They what?” he gasps while looking back at the store with new anger. “Baby, I’m sorry, that’s awful, no one should be treating you like that. How… how long have you felt this way?”

“Soon after I left the hospital, I guess” I admit quietly with a shrug. “At first, I was impressed by how great my mates were, I was proud. I mean, I still am. My mates are amazing and I’m so lucky to have them. I thought… once I’m back home, once things settle after a day or two, I can work hard too, I can be someone just as great, an omega that makes her alphas proud”.

Hoseok’s fingers tighten around mine, eyes downcast as he listens intently.

“My mind keeps telling me that part of doing so is by making you food, but none of you would let me help in the kitchen and… I don’t know. That made me feel like a failure. Like… I don’t know. I have only one spoon at my disposal, and it keeps breaking under my touch. When someone else uses it, it works just fine, but never when I do. I really want to make it work, though”.

“That’s why you signed up for that cooking class” he whispers, only now understanding why I did it. It should’ve been obvious, he saw how pained I was that they kept me out of the kitchen day after day, but he didn’t think it would have affected me that much.

“Maybe it’s linked to the past I can’t remember” I say with another small shrug. “Maybe my wolf has made links where they didn’t need to be made and now I’m stuck that way. Omega equals cooking equals worthy. I don’t know, but until I figure that out, I know that I want to deserve a place in your pack, and I’m just… not there yet”.

Hoseok wants to say so badly that I don’t need to be anything more than who I already am to deserve the pack, but he also understands my need so strongly, because he was the same, once. A young alpha with the desire to make his mates proud, to deserve the pack.

He wouldn’t have become a police chief if it wasn’t for them. Who else was going to protect them from silly laws otherwise? Many would say that such a way of thinking isn’t what a person of his rank should have, he should put the population’s safety first and his pack second, but Hoseok couldn’t do that even if he wanted to.

No, his job is there solely for his mates. He simply doesn’t care if he has to use his power and money to get them out of trouble, not that it would ever be needed. Either way, he understands more than anyone else the need to find a place that will make me belong by their side.

“What do you think will make you feel like you’re finally good enough for us?” he voices out his question after a minute of pondering, to which I hum as I look at the birds in the trees.

“That’s a good question, Hobi. Honestly, I know deep down that no matter what I do, I might never feel like I belong. That sense of belonging isn’t born out of something I own or do, it comes from inside, from here” I say as I tap a hand over my heart.

“I need to believe that I belong, but for now, I feel like I don’t even have the minimum criteria to make it there. That’s why I thought a job could be a nice place to start. That, and being a good cook. I want to see your faces light up when you eat my food. I don’t know where that need comes from, I just know that it’s very strong”.

Hoseok stares at me in silence, then speaks up softly, “Bun… could it be… is it something you feel like you would love doing every day? Not just for the pack or because you have to, but because you truly enjoy making food?”

It doesn’t even require any thinking for me to nod my head. “I think I would. Yesterday, during Bora’s class… you know, it felt good to make something under her guidance and end up with a result that made me happy. I felt accomplished for a moment, it made me want to do so much more”

His eyes blink softly, and a smile melts on his pink lips. “Bun, I think it’s possible that this could be a dream of yours. Just like Jimin dreamed of making clothes, and Jungkook dreamed of making video games. What if your dream is making food?”

I stare at him with round eyes, the words he just spoke sound almost too grand for someone like me and yet… something has never hit home as much as this does. “A dream… that sounds really nice, Hobi” I murmur quietly. “Bora and the others all said that I didn’t like cooking before, but it’s actually very enjoyable. I don’t know yet what I’d do with a dream like that, but I want to try more things, Hobi. I want to find out what I like, what I’m good at doing. No, even if I’m bad at it, I want to get better at the things that matter to me. Do you think it’s possible?”.

Hoseok’s face lights up with pure joy at my words, and he nods quickly, his eyes creasing beautifully. He holds my hands tight, squeezing them to encourage me. “Everything is possible, Y/N. Hearing you say that makes me very happy. Would it be asking for too much, for us to be there as you grow?”

I stare at him, heart twisting as I understand that my speech from yesterday made them believe that I didn’t want them near me at all. That’s not what I’d wanted to convey. It seems yesterday’s conversation wasn’t really understood that well after all, just as I’d feared.

“I would love for you to be there as I grow, Hobi” I muse softly. “Yesterday… I don’t think we understood each other the way we should have. It’s hard to figure things out, not just for me but for all of us. Namjoon was very mad… do you think he’ll want to see me again?” I let out with a worried frown that he’d immediately kiss away had yesterday night not happened.

“Of course Namjoon will want to see you again. You just have to know, bun… we had a talk together yesterday, and we figured out that it was best to not include you in the pack right now. Hear me out first” he says the end before I can counter his statement, a finger gently pressed onto my lips.

“It’s really not as terrible as it sounds. It’s a decision we made to give you time to figure out who you are, and I know how it sounds. We decided something without asking you first, again. We did hear you, though, which is exactly why we made that decision”.

I purse my lips, brows furrowing heavily as I try to not let it hurt me. He sighs deeply, hand patting mine lightly.

“We keep thinking that everything will be fine if we do what we’re used to doing as a pack with you, but that has always ended up going wrong. We thought about it, Y/N. Why does it always go wrong? Then I realized that with us, you have no space to grow. Why would we let you do anything when we can do it for you? Why would seven alphas allow their only omega to struggle when we can keep her in a comfortable nest all the time?”

He releases a dry chuckle then. “It’s restricting, being surrounded by us like that, isn’t it? That’s what we realized, yesterday. We keep you from learning and we justify it by saying that it’s only our way of caring for you. It’s second nature for us to do everything for you. But it’s not what you need, right?”

I sheepishly shake my head to answer him, and he smiles kindly. “This is why we decided to exclude you from the pack for now. By doing so, you’re not expected to listen to pack rules, Y/N. You don’t owe the pack anything, and you can do whatever you want without worry”.

Oh, so that’s why.

“What about you, though?” I ask, knowing that it can’t be that simple. “For me to get my freedom and do things however I want, what does that mean for you? Are you pulling back from being my mates as well?”

His eyes widen. “What? No, not at all. In reality… this is good for all of us, since it gives us time to get to know each other individually as mates. Forming a pack with a new wolf… it’s usually kept at the end of months of courting. We were just too fast” he explains seriously, body facing me and hands holding mine close to his heart.

“Had we done things the right way, we would have slowly gotten to know you. We would have brought you little presents, first scentless, to share our affection with you. Then, after a while, we would’ve brought some scented items like clothes and candles, to let you know that you have a home in us, should you want that. We would’ve asked for permission to scent you, a few days later. Never taking a yes for granted, because you’re to be treasured.

“From time to time, we would’ve taken you out on dates, the seven of us, to show you what it’s like to be loved and cared for by us. To show you what a life by our side could look like every day. We would have mentioned cuddles in a nest to entice you and our hugs would have lasted a little longer, hoping to get your scent on us. Then, and only then, would we have offered you a place in our pack”.

He kisses my knuckles softly. “Any normal pack would have done so from the moment they met you, but we are seven alphas who’ve never had to deal with another second gender intimately. We’re used to going straight to the point because that’s what alphas do”.

He snickers a little. “You’re an omega to seven alphas who don’t know anything about your second gender other than the fact that you need to be protected and loved. That makes for very eager and impatient mates, don’t you think?”

I share his amused smile, feeling a little better already. There’s something about Hoseok that feels like peace, it’s never complicated with him. “Considering that I was particularly traumatised back then… yeah, that does sound like a chaotic mess waiting to happen”.

He chuckles, fingers tender as they caress my cheek.

“Exactly. It seems we’re slow to understand things when it comes to you, and I’m sorry that you had to suffer so much because of us. We’ll do better. That’s why we intend to start over, from square one. We’ll earn your consent, one day at a time. If you say no, we make a step back and wait.

“That means we’ll need you to let us know when you need anything from us. The biggest change you’ll see, bun, is that we will no longer take you for granted. You are an omega to be courted by us, by your mates. Your pace will be our teacher, and your words, our master”.

I breathe in slowly as I process what he’s saying. “That means… you won’t do anything that I haven’t explicitly consented to, right? You won’t seek cuddles, you won’t scent or even stay the night, not unless I ask you to”.

“That’s right” he hums softly, hand still on my cheek and stroking it with love, the only affection he allows himself right now as my mate.

We’ve already cuddled so it’s hard to pretend like this isn’t something we both want, but he also holds so dearly the process that he and the others are attempting to start, which is to do what they should’ve done back then, when Jimin and Yoongi first met me.

“I had that conversation with Jimin, on the day I left the hospital. He’d said that you guys would not initiate anything anymore, that only what I want to happen would happen. I told him that I didn’t want that, that it wasn’t the right way to do things”.

He nods. “I remember. I know why you’re bringing that up, sweet bun. It’s not the same this time. We’re not going to pull back and never initiate anything ever again, it’s just that we’ll do things differently. You don’t have to be scared, we’re not putting all the decisions on you”.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. That’s good, then. I just didn’t want everything to fall on my shoulders, I think that would have been too much for me to deal with” I admit, relief making my next breath easier to take.

“It won’t come to that” Hoseok reassures me, forehead bumping softly against mine as he leans in.

“See it that way, if it helps. We’re now requesting your attention, rather than expecting it. We’re requesting to spend time with you, and if you can’t, we contemplate another day that would work better for you. If I crave cuddles, I will ask you if we can cuddle, the same way that you can ask for company during the night if you’re uncomfortable on your own. We’re not taking everything away from you, that wouldn’t do any good to either one of us”.

“Thank you for taking the time to explain everything to me, Hobi” I murmur, eyes closing to better enjoy this intimate moment. “If you’d only told me that I wasn’t included in the pack anymore without saying why, I would have panicked and expected the worst”.

“Of course” he says softly. “Don’t see what’s happening as a loss but as a gain. We all gain from this”.

He pulls back after giving us a few more seconds, then tucks some strands of hair from my face. “I have to get back to work, baby. Will you be fine here on your own? Are you sure you don’t need me to drive you anywhere?”.

I purse my lips lightly. “I’m not going home until I’ve tried all of the shops around here. I’m sure there ought to be one out there that could be good for me. Maybe I can ask In-yeop or Dal if they know of any places that are hiring”.

He hums softly. “Alright, you do that, baby. Let us know if we can do anything to help, okay? Anything at all”.

“I will” I assure him, now feeling so much better than when I woke up this morning. I feel stronger, more confident. His trust in me and their efforts to give me what I need to grow as well as our bond, it’s pure fuel for the power that feeds my soul.

Before he can stand from the bench, I wrap my arms around him for a tight hug, head resting on his chest where his heart is beating loudly. There is no need for words as his arms hug me back just as strongly. Silence can communicate love just as well.

“You’ve got this, baby. Show them who you are, and make them regret not hiring you if they ever turn you down” he encourages. “Don’t forget that your mate is a police chief. I’m here to take you out of jail if you ever make it there, but you have to make it count. Don’t go down without giving one heck of a good punch in the face, otherwise I’m leaving you there”.

I giggle against his shoulder. “Hobi! You shouldn’t abuse of your power like that!”

He grins. “Oh but baby, that’s precisely why I gained this power. To protect my mates”.

He pats my back before standing up. “And time is ticking. Give me a call if someone’s giving you trouble, I’ll be there in a flash” he says with a wave of the hand as he hurries back to the car, leaving me right where I was in the first place, but feeling so much better.

I hum to myself, then raise my fists at my sides in an encouraging manner. I’ve got this.

I’ll say though, asking my friends for help is a very good idea, I don’t know why I didn’t think of asking them sooner. Grabbing my phone, I make a group chat with the three of them before typing in my current situation. Hopefully that gets me somewhere.

NEXT

YOU BELONG

ALPHA! 0T7 (YOONMIN CENTRIC) X OMEGA!CHUBBY! READER A/B/O - SUGAR DADDY AU

CHAPTER 26 (4.2k words)

For more information about this story, find it here

Your POV

I turn in bed, knots filling my stomach and heart as I rethink over and over again about the fight. Did I perhaps go too far in my accusations? Gosh, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I don’t know what came over me.

I only wanted to let them know that I didn’t like them deciding everything for me, but instead ended up throwing a bucket of simmering anger over their head without warning. Namjoon’s reaction only fuelled that, and I lost sight of myself.

Now… what now? What happens if I’m not within their pack’s protection? Does that mean we can’t spend time together again? Will everything get awkward and stiff between us? Did I ruin everything by trying to speak up my mind?

I sigh deeply, then move out of bed to reach the kitchen, eyes glancing briefly at the time on the oven to find that it’s only three in the morning. I don’t even know if I managed to sleep an hour or two since, my mind unable to stop going over the fight again and again.

I make myself a glass of water and slowly drink it down, knowing very well that sleeping won’t be possible tonight.

Looking over the counter to find the cupcakes I’d made in Bora’s class left untouched makes me feel even worse, and I drop my weight over the counter, glass set aside and head in my hands. I’d made those thinking of the pack.

I foolishly hoped that I could have made them proud by giving them something that I made, to show them that I too could be good in the kitchen, if given the chance. It all sounds so stupid now, that I’m almost embarrassed about it.

None of what I’d hoped for happened, in the end, other than the fact that I indeed made something edible in a kitchen.

Oh well. What happened has happened, and I need to move forward. Today, I’m going outside again. I need to look for a job and that means pushing myself out of my comfort zone a whole lot more than I did yesterday.

I don’t know what kind of job someone like me can get, but I shouldn’t be too picky if I want to earn money. I’ll have to make myself presentable and wear something clean and formal. I don’t know how it’ll go, but unless I try, I’ll never find out.

Nodding to myself as I stand tall again, I move to the bathroom to get showered despite the early hour. Success won’t wait until I’m ready to live normally, so I’ll show my mates that I can be an omega they can be proud of, at all cost.

---

The woman looks me up and down before pursing her lips, a hand to her chin before she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, you’re not exactly what we’re looking for here. Your makeup looks great, if maybe a little simple. Your clothes are perfect, but the body… our customers won’t feel comfortable if we hire you. Good luck in your search”.

I bite down a bitter remark, then bow before leaving the store. What has my body to do with selling their products? Why would my body shape make people uncomfortable? If anything, it’s their mindset that should make them uncomfortable!

Since I got here, I’ve visited a couple stores that had a job application on the front door. It didn’t look like any of their requirements would get in my way, but what they don’t say is that in the end, it’s not your skills that get you a job, it’s your face.

Or body, in my case. That’s been used a few times to reject me and I’m getting more offended than I am hurt. I look at the time on my phone to find that it’s already nearly ten in the morning, which acts as a bit of a shock to me.

Time went by so fast, I’ve been walking around here for three hours already? How did I not notice? To think that I haven’t found anything yet… how ridiculous. I huff on the sidewalk, then glare back when a human stares at me weird.

It’s possible that my not eating breakfast could have a say in why I feel particularly bothered by every looks I’m given right now, but after all that I heard so far… I don’t really want to eat. I look down at my body, a frown on my face.

I could handle not eating until tonight. Hell, I could probably starve for a whole week and still be fine.

Finding a park nearby, I cross the street before walking to a lone bench beneath a tree, then sit down with a droop to my shoulders. What kind of job can someone like me do that I haven’t attempted yet? Is there even one place out here that would accept me?

What did I do with In-yeop and Dal before my amnesia? I wonder if I could try to get my job back there… I haven’t tried any of the convenience stores either, maybe that would be easier for someone like me. I don’t think they really care who they hire as long as the job is done.

But how is working at a convenience store something my mates would be proud of? Maybe I’m trying to set the bar too high for what I’m able to achieve, but I really don’t want to get their pity by working a job they’d consider… lowly.

Damn it. I did say that I shouldn’t be too picky. I should start by re-evaluating my priorities. What is most important to me? Making my mates proud, or earning money? Priorities, Y/N. You can’t have everything at the same time.

I hear a car slow down behind me then, and I twist my neck slightly to find a police car parking on the side of the road, exactly where I am.

Great. This is just great. Did someone call the cops on me because I sat in the park? Is that forbidden for fat people too? Is there nothing I’m allowed in this city? I’m starting to feel very bitter, I would probably bite someone if given the chance.

Maybe I shouldn’t bite a cop, though.

With my eyes trained on the police car, mind already conjuring the worst scenarios possible, I can only tense up when the door opens to Hoseok the very next second, eyes widening when his gaze falls on me with a tight smile.

His scent of strawberry pie is sweet, though, and I relax a little as he comes over to sit next to me in his work uniform.

“What are you doing here, sweet bun?” he asks with a gentle voice, as if he’s afraid of scaring me off were he to talk a little louder. “I saw you crossing the street from one of the stores looking…” he pinches his lips lightly, “dejected? Angry? Did something happen?”

I look down, fingers twisting together nervously at his question. “It’s my first time seeing you in your work uniform. It looks good on you” I mutter instead of answering him. He just had to go straight to the point, huh? I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

He hums, hands patting his pants to adjust some minor detail in the creases.

“Thank you, baby” he murmurs, lips pursing in unease. “Do you need me to drive you anywhere? Can I be of help to you? Or is leaving you alone what you need? I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, I can go if that’s better”.

I unconsciously grab his hand when he makes a move to stand up, and only then does he find out how cold they are. He scoots closer, both of his hands wrapping around mine to warm them up, eyes furrowed in thoughts as he tries to figure out what it is that I need most right now.

I sigh softly, knowing that I’m the one making things difficult at the moment. He just wants to help, there’s no reason for me to push him away.

“I’m sorry, Hobi. I’m just… it’s embarrassing, really. I was out looking for a job, but they keep using my body to refuse hiring me and I don’t know how to feel anymore. I want to make the pack proud, but it seems I keep failing no matter what I do, be it at home or out here”.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, seeing the shame in my eyes now that I’m not hiding it anymore. “They what?” he gasps while looking back at the store with new anger. “Baby, I’m sorry, that’s awful, no one should be treating you like that. How… how long have you felt this way?”

“Soon after I left the hospital, I guess” I admit quietly with a shrug. “At first, I was impressed by how great my mates were, I was proud. I mean, I still am. My mates are amazing and I’m so lucky to have them. I thought… once I’m back home, once things settle after a day or two, I can work hard too, I can be someone just as great, an omega that makes her alphas proud”.

Hoseok’s fingers tighten around mine, eyes downcast as he listens intently.

“My mind keeps telling me that part of doing so is by making you food, but none of you would let me help in the kitchen and… I don’t know. That made me feel like a failure. Like… I don’t know. I have only one spoon at my disposal, and it keeps breaking under my touch. When someone else uses it, it works just fine, but never when I do. I really want to make it work, though”.

“That’s why you signed up for that cooking class” he whispers, only now understanding why I did it. It should’ve been obvious, he saw how pained I was that they kept me out of the kitchen day after day, but he didn’t think it would have affected me that much.

“Maybe it’s linked to the past I can’t remember” I say with another small shrug. “Maybe my wolf has made links where they didn’t need to be made and now I’m stuck that way. Omega equals cooking equals worthy. I don’t know, but until I figure that out, I know that I want to deserve a place in your pack, and I’m just… not there yet”.

Hoseok wants to say so badly that I don’t need to be anything more than who I already am to deserve the pack, but he also understands my need so strongly, because he was the same, once. A young alpha with the desire to make his mates proud, to deserve the pack.

He wouldn’t have become a police chief if it wasn’t for them. Who else was going to protect them from silly laws otherwise? Many would say that such a way of thinking isn’t what a person of his rank should have, he should put the population’s safety first and his pack second, but Hoseok couldn’t do that even if he wanted to.

No, his job is there solely for his mates. He simply doesn’t care if he has to use his power and money to get them out of trouble, not that it would ever be needed. Either way, he understands more than anyone else the need to find a place that will make me belong by their side.

“What do you think will make you feel like you’re finally good enough for us?” he voices out his question after a minute of pondering, to which I hum as I look at the birds in the trees.

“That’s a good question, Hobi. Honestly, I know deep down that no matter what I do, I might never feel like I belong. That sense of belonging isn’t born out of something I own or do, it comes from inside, from here” I say as I tap a hand over my heart.

“I need to believe that I belong, but for now, I feel like I don’t even have the minimum criteria to make it there. That’s why I thought a job could be a nice place to start. That, and being a good cook. I want to see your faces light up when you eat my food. I don’t know where that need comes from, I just know that it’s very strong”.

Hoseok stares at me in silence, then speaks up softly, “Bun… could it be… is it something you feel like you would love doing every day? Not just for the pack or because you have to, but because you truly enjoy making food?”

It doesn’t even require any thinking for me to nod my head. “I think I would. Yesterday, during Bora’s class… you know, it felt good to make something under her guidance and end up with a result that made me happy. I felt accomplished for a moment, it made me want to do so much more”

His eyes blink softly, and a smile melts on his pink lips. “Bun, I think it’s possible that this could be a dream of yours. Just like Jimin dreamed of making clothes, and Jungkook dreamed of making video games. What if your dream is making food?”

I stare at him with round eyes, the words he just spoke sound almost too grand for someone like me and yet… something has never hit home as much as this does. “A dream… that sounds really nice, Hobi” I murmur quietly. “Bora and the others all said that I didn’t like cooking before, but it’s actually very enjoyable. I don’t know yet what I’d do with a dream like that, but I want to try more things, Hobi. I want to find out what I like, what I’m good at doing. No, even if I’m bad at it, I want to get better at the things that matter to me. Do you think it’s possible?”.

Hoseok’s face lights up with pure joy at my words, and he nods quickly, his eyes creasing beautifully. He holds my hands tight, squeezing them to encourage me. “Everything is possible, Y/N. Hearing you say that makes me very happy. Would it be asking for too much, for us to be there as you grow?”

I stare at him, heart twisting as I understand that my speech from yesterday made them believe that I didn’t want them near me at all. That’s not what I’d wanted to convey. It seems yesterday’s conversation wasn’t really understood that well after all, just as I’d feared.

“I would love for you to be there as I grow, Hobi” I muse softly. “Yesterday… I don’t think we understood each other the way we should have. It’s hard to figure things out, not just for me but for all of us. Namjoon was very mad… do you think he’ll want to see me again?” I let out with a worried frown that he’d immediately kiss away had yesterday night not happened.

“Of course Namjoon will want to see you again. You just have to know, bun… we had a talk together yesterday, and we figured out that it was best to not include you in the pack right now. Hear me out first” he says the end before I can counter his statement, a finger gently pressed onto my lips.

“It’s really not as terrible as it sounds. It’s a decision we made to give you time to figure out who you are, and I know how it sounds. We decided something without asking you first, again. We did hear you, though, which is exactly why we made that decision”.

I purse my lips, brows furrowing heavily as I try to not let it hurt me. He sighs deeply, hand patting mine lightly.

“We keep thinking that everything will be fine if we do what we’re used to doing as a pack with you, but that has always ended up going wrong. We thought about it, Y/N. Why does it always go wrong? Then I realized that with us, you have no space to grow. Why would we let you do anything when we can do it for you? Why would seven alphas allow their only omega to struggle when we can keep her in a comfortable nest all the time?”

He releases a dry chuckle then. “It’s restricting, being surrounded by us like that, isn’t it? That’s what we realized, yesterday. We keep you from learning and we justify it by saying that it’s only our way of caring for you. It’s second nature for us to do everything for you. But it’s not what you need, right?”

I sheepishly shake my head to answer him, and he smiles kindly. “This is why we decided to exclude you from the pack for now. By doing so, you’re not expected to listen to pack rules, Y/N. You don’t owe the pack anything, and you can do whatever you want without worry”.

Oh, so that’s why.

“What about you, though?” I ask, knowing that it can’t be that simple. “For me to get my freedom and do things however I want, what does that mean for you? Are you pulling back from being my mates as well?”

His eyes widen. “What? No, not at all. In reality… this is good for all of us, since it gives us time to get to know each other individually as mates. Forming a pack with a new wolf… it’s usually kept at the end of months of courting. We were just too fast” he explains seriously, body facing me and hands holding mine close to his heart.

“Had we done things the right way, we would have slowly gotten to know you. We would have brought you little presents, first scentless, to share our affection with you. Then, after a while, we would’ve brought some scented items like clothes and candles, to let you know that you have a home in us, should you want that. We would’ve asked for permission to scent you, a few days later. Never taking a yes for granted, because you’re to be treasured.

“From time to time, we would’ve taken you out on dates, the seven of us, to show you what it’s like to be loved and cared for by us. To show you what a life by our side could look like every day. We would have mentioned cuddles in a nest to entice you and our hugs would have lasted a little longer, hoping to get your scent on us. Then, and only then, would we have offered you a place in our pack”.

He kisses my knuckles softly. “Any normal pack would have done so from the moment they met you, but we are seven alphas who’ve never had to deal with another second gender intimately. We’re used to going straight to the point because that’s what alphas do”.

He snickers a little. “You’re an omega to seven alphas who don’t know anything about your second gender other than the fact that you need to be protected and loved. That makes for very eager and impatient mates, don’t you think?”

I share his amused smile, feeling a little better already. There’s something about Hoseok that feels like peace, it’s never complicated with him. “Considering that I was particularly traumatised back then… yeah, that does sound like a chaotic mess waiting to happen”.

He chuckles, fingers tender as they caress my cheek.

“Exactly. It seems we’re slow to understand things when it comes to you, and I’m sorry that you had to suffer so much because of us. We’ll do better. That’s why we intend to start over, from square one. We’ll earn your consent, one day at a time. If you say no, we make a step back and wait.

“That means we’ll need you to let us know when you need anything from us. The biggest change you’ll see, bun, is that we will no longer take you for granted. You are an omega to be courted by us, by your mates. Your pace will be our teacher, and your words, our master”.

I breathe in slowly as I process what he’s saying. “That means… you won’t do anything that I haven’t explicitly consented to, right? You won’t seek cuddles, you won’t scent or even stay the night, not unless I ask you to”.

“That’s right” he hums softly, hand still on my cheek and stroking it with love, the only affection he allows himself right now as my mate.

We’ve already cuddled so it’s hard to pretend like this isn’t something we both want, but he also holds so dearly the process that he and the others are attempting to start, which is to do what they should’ve done back then, when Jimin and Yoongi first met me.

“I had that conversation with Jimin, on the day I left the hospital. He’d said that you guys would not initiate anything anymore, that only what I want to happen would happen. I told him that I didn’t want that, that it wasn’t the right way to do things”.

He nods. “I remember. I know why you’re bringing that up, sweet bun. It’s not the same this time. We’re not going to pull back and never initiate anything ever again, it’s just that we’ll do things differently. You don’t have to be scared, we’re not putting all the decisions on you”.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. That’s good, then. I just didn’t want everything to fall on my shoulders, I think that would have been too much for me to deal with” I admit, relief making my next breath easier to take.

“It won’t come to that” Hoseok reassures me, forehead bumping softly against mine as he leans in.

“See it that way, if it helps. We’re now requesting your attention, rather than expecting it. We’re requesting to spend time with you, and if you can’t, we contemplate another day that would work better for you. If I crave cuddles, I will ask you if we can cuddle, the same way that you can ask for company during the night if you’re uncomfortable on your own. We’re not taking everything away from you, that wouldn’t do any good to either one of us”.

“Thank you for taking the time to explain everything to me, Hobi” I murmur, eyes closing to better enjoy this intimate moment. “If you’d only told me that I wasn’t included in the pack anymore without saying why, I would have panicked and expected the worst”.

“Of course” he says softly. “Don’t see what’s happening as a loss but as a gain. We all gain from this”.

He pulls back after giving us a few more seconds, then tucks some strands of hair from my face. “I have to get back to work, baby. Will you be fine here on your own? Are you sure you don’t need me to drive you anywhere?”.

I purse my lips lightly. “I’m not going home until I’ve tried all of the shops around here. I’m sure there ought to be one out there that could be good for me. Maybe I can ask In-yeop or Dal if they know of any places that are hiring”.

He hums softly. “Alright, you do that, baby. Let us know if we can do anything to help, okay? Anything at all”.

“I will” I assure him, now feeling so much better than when I woke up this morning. I feel stronger, more confident. His trust in me and their efforts to give me what I need to grow as well as our bond, it’s pure fuel for the power that feeds my soul.

Before he can stand from the bench, I wrap my arms around him for a tight hug, head resting on his chest where his heart is beating loudly. There is no need for words as his arms hug me back just as strongly. Silence can communicate love just as well.

“You’ve got this, baby. Show them who you are, and make them regret not hiring you if they ever turn you down” he encourages. “Don’t forget that your mate is a police chief. I’m here to take you out of jail if you ever make it there, but you have to make it count. Don’t go down without giving one heck of a good punch in the face, otherwise I’m leaving you there”.

I giggle against his shoulder. “Hobi! You shouldn’t abuse of your power like that!”

He grins. “Oh but baby, that’s precisely why I gained this power. To protect my mates”.

He pats my back before standing up. “And time is ticking. Give me a call if someone’s giving you trouble, I’ll be there in a flash” he says with a wave of the hand as he hurries back to the car, leaving me right where I was in the first place, but feeling so much better.

I hum to myself, then raise my fists at my sides in an encouraging manner. I’ve got this.

I’ll say though, asking my friends for help is a very good idea, I don’t know why I didn’t think of asking them sooner. Grabbing my phone, I make a group chat with the three of them before typing in my current situation. Hopefully that gets me somewhere.

NEXT

what fate decides [taehyung x reader] [part 1]

drabble count: 5

join tag list for future works | masterlist of all works previous | next drabble

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 all three parts are currently completed, but if you want early access to all of them, become a member on my ko-fi page! 💞

summary: You're a beta in love with your best friend, alpha Kim Taehyung. Except you know that you can never fulfill his dominating urges, so you draw a line between the two of you. Cherish his small kisses and embraces until an omega has to come along.

Until one day, you're not a beta anymore. Now, it's nearly impossible to resist the protective, endearing alpha in front of you.

pairing: taehyung x reader

chapter tags/warnings: angst, self-depricating thoughts, fluff, alpha/omega, a/b/o dynamics, best friends to lovers, slow burn ish, smut, mature, swearing

If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, it’s being a year older—and thus wiser—than Kim Taehyung. Taehyung Kim. Tae-tae. Whatever the idol’s nickname is. He’s got thousands, no doubt. 

Or at least, you think it’s easier pretending not to know him. You see the idol on the screen, hear your friends gushing over him, and wonder if the two of you ever becoming close—so close that you were inseparable when you were younger—was a dream. Back then, the day turned into a week, a week into years, and a year into years. 

Sometimes the feeling of nostalgia sinks in when you scroll through your old texts with him. Sometimes you wish to beg him to come back when he takes a flight back to Korea, but you realize that one of you has to be the adult. And because you’re older, it basically means that the responsibility falls on you, no matter how stubborn or persistent he is. 

Thank God you’re a beta, and unaffected by his alpha presence. The fact that he is an alpha is infuriating. His ego is large enough, and though he loves basking in compliments, lips curling upwards into a boxy smile, there needs to be someone to knock him down a peg or two. Hence, the (somewhat) calm-headed, (mostly) logical beta: you. 

Though he really is testing that side of you right now, pulling at your heartstrings. When you told the idol that he can visit your apartment in Los Angeles, you didn’t mean, “Hey, bring all your members along so I can be humiliated in Harry Potter pajamas and blubbering Korean.” Except now the idols entered your apartment anyways, and Taehyung was giving them a tour like he owned it, flinging his arms out and pointing at various exhibitions—your rooms. 

“Here, Noona,” he flings the hoodie draped over his arm at you. “You look cold.” 

“I—thanks, Taehyung.” You respond gratefully. Not that Los Angeles is cold. The sun’s beating down through your curtains, the light bright enough to blind you in the mornings as you sip a coffee on your plush, red sofa. But since you were younger, you’ve always been cold, especially once you woke up. 

“You have any snacks? Or ice cream? Jungkook might be hungry.” The alpha steps closer to you when you slide your head through the hoodie, trying to find the hole from your left arm. Grasping the fabric, he holds it out for you, and you beam up at him. 

“I think so. I can also whip out something if you guys want breakfast.”

“No,” he says, voice firm, eyes locking with the members. “I came to hang out with you, not make you serve breakfast.” 

“It’s really okay,” Jungkook adds hastily, and Jimin smirks in return. Then, someone’s stomach grumbles in reply, and you all glance at the blushing leader.

“It’s me digesting!” He blurts. You snort at how ridiculous it sounds, because seriously. If they came to Los Angeles, it’s a crime to not eat. The food here is a fusion of all cultures blended together, which is why it has one of the best ones in the world. You know your mother hates hearing this, but you think that the food in Koreatown suits your tastes better than the authentic food in Korea. It’s just a perfect blend between the modern and traditional culture, and you can’t go back. 

“There’s leftover gamjatang in the refrigerator that I brought yesterday, if you guys want. I also have rice and can make you a—”

“Y/N,” your friend insists, wrapping an arm around your waist to prevent you from going anywhere. Not Noona. Not ya, or some other rude nickname he gives to you when he should respect that you’re older (though it is just a year, Korean standards say otherwise). “Stop. I know you’re tired. You don’t need to.”

You stare up at Taehyung, who has his hair slicked back and is staring back into your eyes, as if challenging you. Ugh. Screw him. You know he knows that you’re terrible with eye contact.

“It’s not that I feel the need to,” you explain, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “I want to, I promise.” 

Taking care of people—Taehyung included—made your heart swell, and made you soft inside. Your love language giving wise is acts of service, and yeah, it might end up with you giving more than you should, or people taking advantage of you. Taehyung had seen that happen firsthand with his ex-girlfriends, or with those who had a crush on him, thinking that you did that because you were forced to. But these are his members, people he’s been with for years and trusts.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, lowering your voice. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

Running a hand through his hair, he nods and stalks off where Yoongi is residing on your couch. You smile brightly at the rest of the members, who have been quiet or averting their gazes at your conversation. 

“You want help setting the table?” Jin offers. You nod. 

“I was also thinking about making some kimchi stew.”

“I can make that!” Jimin pipes in. 

“Jimin ah,” Namjoon winces. “Your last kimchi-jigae was too salty. Maybe next time.”

“But practice makes perfect.” The idol rolls up his sleeves, suddenly looking determined to prove himself. “Just get me an apron, and I’ll whip up a masterpiece in seconds.” 

“Or Taehyung can, since he’s been learning how to cook,” Namjoon says, wincing. Oh, yeah. You heard about that on social media, him uploading pictures of his food or sending them to you. 

“My kitchen isn’t big enough,” you tell him regretfully. “I think Jin and I will have to make do.”

That part is true. Washing the dishes is a one-man show, because next to it is the refrigerator, and then the cabinet. The stove is behind you, and a small counter divides the kitchen with the living room. It’s cozy, but because LA apartments are so expensive, you had to make do with this small one. Even if Taehyung pressed about buying you a house, you couldn’t accept it. What would his future girlfriend think, that he brought his best friend a house? Knowing how conservative Korea is, you don’t want to step over that line.

Plus, you get free reign to place rugs anywhere you want on the hardwood ground. 

You hold in a laugh with the grateful glance the leader shoots you, and ushers Jimin away. 

“And how do you expect me to come to your shoot?”

“I’ll let the staff know,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “And you can just come in and watch.”

“You’re what—twenty something? All grown up. You can handle a shoot on your own.”

“But you’ve never seen me work.”

“I’ve seen you work. At concerts.” 

“It’s not the same thing, Noona. And you said that you’d hang out with me when I came to visit you. You weren’t lying, were you? You said you’d make up for all the birthdays we missed apart.”

Ding ding. Another point for Taehyung. “Alright, where’s your shoot?”

“In Korea.”

“Korea!” You practically shriek. “Taehyung, no.”

“Why not? You said your novel’s set in Korea, isn’t it? It’ll be good research, and you get to see your parents.”

Yeah, this is a good opportunity for you, as a writer who literally has no job except freelancing. But… 

“Noona.” The word alone makes you flinch, and you sigh at the idol in front of you. Legs crossed in front of you, Taehyung juts his lower lip out, pouting. He intentionally parted his bangs to give you a pleading look, too—but you refuse for it to affect you—you never know what this alpha is up to next. “C’mon.” 

Then again, your willpower is never that strong around him.

“No, Taehyung. I can’t go.”

“Is this about the money?” When is it not about the money? 

“I have plenty of money,” he adds. You snort. 

“Yeah, that much is obvious.” He’s practically plastered on every billboard, and any moments he has with women are trending. Though you don’t tell him, your favorites are the book memes that come out of it. God, you feel awful for laughing, but it’s just hilarious. Like the meme of how this one person mentioned that they’d get pregnant if Taehyung gave her the gaze of “I’ll take you to the bookstore.”

“What are you giggling about?” The corner of his mouth tugs up into a smile, and he pokes your cheek. 

“Nothing.” A grin stretches across your face. “Seriously. I’m saving up for Korea myself, don’t waste your money on me.” 

“I love giving you my money,” he retorts immediately. “And you always stole my money in high school, what’s a few years older?”

“Shut up!” You smack his shoulder, and he snickers. “I’m pretty sure I paid back that amount enough, too, dealing with you.”

“I told you, I can help you out. You know I make more than enough.” But your pride won’t let him. As someone older than him, it’s ingrained in you to pay for him, not the other way around.

“It’s—it’s my job because I’m older—”

“Get that thought out of your head,” he murmurs. Taehyung takes a deep breath. “I love taking care of you, Y/N, alright?”

“You need to stop using my name,” you groan. “It’s rude. How have we become this casual over the course of what? Over a decade?” 

“I like your name.” And he inches closer, nose brushing your neck as he places a soft kiss there. You don’t even know how he knows that you’d melt from that, but you do. Hands shoot out to grab his biceps, and he rests his forehead in that crook, body at an odd angle because he’s hunching over you, torso twisted. 

Taehyung likes physical contact, you remind yourself. Nothing more, nothing less. Again, thank God you’re a beta, and your scent—both giving off and smelling—is minimal. Also, bless the universe that the alpha in front of you is wearing suppressants today. 

“I missed you,” he whispers. 

You press your lips together. “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to, but—”

“Please,” he hushes, breath hitting your skin. Making the moment so intimate. “Come with me.”

Hands hold both sides of his cheeks, and you stare. Rub your thumb in circles, and his eyes darken. Darken with a promise, with worry from your answer, with something. 

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.” 

A week later, upon arriving in Korea, Taehyung sends you a text, along with a pinned location.

Taehyung: Come.

Taehyung: Please.

Taehyung: I’ll be waiting.

“He’s not in a good mood today,” Namjoon comments on the obvious. Taehyung isn’t out here yet, but the other members are slowly trickling in.  

As you stand in the midst of the photoshoot for Vogue, you nod. “Thanks for letting me know.”

In return, the leader mimics your action and heads over to the director. The chatter around you is growing, as interns run in with drinks for the staff and the idols, and as directors shout where the lights should be placed. It’s like the scene is shifting in circles around you, and as you hide in the corner, you love it. Watching everyone enter their own element, running on adrenaline until the shoot is over. The determined glances, the peering in the cameras, the directing. Your heartbeat quickens seeing everything unfold in front of you, and you rock on your heels to contain your excitement. 

“Ah, hello!” Hoseok smiles. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Well, that’s sudden. “Uh, su—”

“Can you get Taehyung? He’s—well—” The idol stumbles over his words. “He’s in one of his moods. And, well, since we’re all alphas, we don’t want to be messing with his area.”

Oh. Oh. You flush. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Ah, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, and stunned into awkward silences, the two of you slink away from one another. “He’s in the dressing room.”

Roaming down the halls, you knock on his door. Well, BTS’s door. 

No answer. 

“Taehyung?” You question, and stick your head in. The dark mess of hair stiffens when you do. 

“Did the members send you here?”

You can’t help yourself, gazing at his muscles and the hard ridges of his body as he slumps down the chair, legs open wide. In fact, your mouth almost goes slack at the sight, but you reign it in, knowing that the other members are waiting. Because Taeyoung’s broodiness—or, him being pissed all morning—could only mean one thing. He’s about to go into rut soon. 

“Bad morning?” You chirp from where you’re at, not wanting to intrude or do something that would piss him off even further. There was never a telltale sign as to what Taeyoung hated, so close to rut. Not that he ever lashed out at you. But you saw how he would grimace, or hide the discomfort of your actions. 

“Ha. Very funny,” the idol grumbles, then frowns. “Why are you so far away?”

“No reason,” you grin, and inch closer. “Just thought you wanted to sit alone today.”

“Sit on me,” he orders, grouchy. You carefully settle yourself on his thighs, but can’t help but shift forward to drape yourself all over him. You can’t help it—he’s just that comfortable. His shoulder is the perfect pillow for you to rest your head on, and the crook of his neck is the perfect place for you to dig your face into, hiding away from the world. And it’s like he owns you, with the way his palm sometimes curves around your nape, or the way he guides you, or the way he curves his hand around your hip and draws you closer. 

You tell yourself it’s the Alpha instincts within him, taking care of his best friend. In his mindset, you’re pack. Making sure that your nervousness isn’t stinking up the room. Making sure you’re safe and tended to. 

But sometimes, you hallucinate. 

“Are you staying until I end today?”

“That’s what I was planning to do, unless it goes on for too long.”

“I didn’t know if you were coming today,” he admits. His arms tightening around you and pulls you closer, smothering you in his scent. Of the ocean. Of sand. It’s nice. The issue is that your heart flutters when catching hints of it, like it did in high school. Then it’d fall, or be stomped to pieces when he came home every night talking about the girl he wanted to impress. You forgot her name—never bothered to learn it in the first place, just trying to pick up your broken pieces when he shattered you. And one day, he came home, saying he lost his virginity. Saying that he was happy he gave it away to the one person.

That’s when your project began. To move on from Taeyoung, the reason of your existence. Because the only reason you two met was because of your mothers. That’s it. If not, fate would have never allowed you to collide.

And you understood. He’s an Alpha, with urges no less. You’re a beta. You weren’t going to ruin anything. 

“Namjoon showed me the fancy director chair you got me,” you tease, fingers finding his hair and tugging a strand. 

“Mhm.” A deep inhale. “I better go.”

The untangling is slow, but you cherish those moments, keep it tucked away with memories only you have with him while your mind chastises your heart. 

It’s just like every other night back then, you tell yourself. Taehyung’s oblivious to your feelings, and you’re here beating yourself up over it without saying anything.

And you know—if you’re going to keep quiet, you shouldn’t take it out on Taehyung because that would be unfair to him. 

Besides. You loved him too much to break what the two of you have.

to be continued...

what fate decides [taehyung x reader] [part 2]

join tag list for future works | masterlist of all works previous | next drabble

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 become a member on my ko-fi page! or buy me a coffee 💞

summary: You're a beta in love with your best friend, alpha Kim Taehyung. Except you know that you can never fulfill his dominating urges, so you draw a line between the two of you. Cherish his small kisses and embraces until an omega has to come along.

Until one day, you're not a beta anymore. Now, it's nearly impossible to resist the protective, endearing alpha in front of you.

pairing: taehyung x reader

chapter tags/warnings: angst, self-depricating thoughts, fluff, alpha/omega, a/b/o dynamics, best friends to lovers, slow burn ish, smut, mature, swearing, car accidents

tags: @theblueslytherin @tatyhend @tinyoonsblog @vsmith0099 @midnightsora @cupcakesxdomjoon @likeshatteredrainbowglass @scuzmunkie @kookiwu @xjiminsthighsx @dreadity @lovelytaes-blog @noooodlllleeee @ggukkieland @namjoonshug

You remember how he used to creep through your window and curled up next to you. Your bed creaked as you let him settle, but every sound—as he took off his shoes, chucked off his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, all this illuminated in the moonlight—shattered your heart. It’s as fragile as glass whenever he’s around, and wonder how many more times you’d have to mend it together until it’s just not possible. 

“What’s it like?” You had to ask. “Being an Alpha?”

You’re sure that your memory is different from his. All you remember is coming home one day, ready to throw the kid out the window because he annoyed you all day, placing pranks for you around the school and sticking his tongue out. It’s not fair that the sunbae’s loved him too, and that he got away with everything if he smiled wide enough. The boxy smile and crinkling in his eyes were enough to melt any girl’s heart, including yours. Though you expected to confront him about that and skipping classes, his mother confronted you—telling you he was an alpha. 

He was sixteen then. You seventeen. But by then, you were well-aware of the impacts of designation. Enough so that you left without asking questions. 

His arms went around your waist. Mouth near the back of your neck, him burying his face in your shoulder. Legs tangling up with yours. As a beta, senses weren’t as heightened, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t smell someone else on him. Mijun. And it made you want to throw up. Because it’s all too clear what he spent the night doing—calming his urges down.

Well, not urges, but… yeah. It was mutual for the two of them, and you liked Mijun as an acquaintance. She was one of the few people who treated you nicely and hung around Taehyung at the same time. 

“What’s it like?” He asked in return. “Being a Beta?”

“Dull,” you responded. Hopeless. Beta’s and Alpha’s don’t go together. They just don’t. Biology demands for an Omega to be with an Alpha. Same with the other way around. You, you were like the leftovers the world created. The followers—the secretary in the movie that cleaned up after everybody’s mess, but was never given credit for it. 

At least, that’s how it felt as a teenager. 

“Uncontrollable,” he told you. Added, “The only time I feel like I’m in my right mind is with you.”

Yeah, because you’re logical. There’s nothing more to this exchange except that you two will be friends. And it only made the bitter taste in your tongue get worse. 

That part didn’t change. 

There are certain telltale signs—other than the additional signs of aggressiveness, stronger scents that even you can pick up, and constant growls—that accompany Taehyung when he’s about to go into rut. For one, the idol becomes impossible overbearing, becoming attached to your hip and hovering over you like you’re either pregnant or weak. 

This is one of the many reasons I didn’t come to Korea, you think, as the alpha comes in with several grocery bags. Like come on, you are a Beta. Capable of carrying both an Alpha and Omega on your backs, which is why usually you had positions where you were the mediator. It’s a talent, multitasking—doing jobs and calming down both so called levels simultaneously. 

“Did you want to eat something?” 

“No,” Taehyung mutters, scowling at the string of hoodies on the ground. In your defense, you were entranced in a scene, and refused to be sucked out of it. Cleaning up after yourself would cause you to lose all the ideas you came up with plot wise. “I’m cooking tonight.” 

“You learned how to cook?” You laugh. 

He scowls. “Of course I learned how to cook. Who’s going to take care of you? All you do is order to-go food.”

It’s not just the food that’s annoying him—you can tell. It’s the fact that the two of you fought over where you would stay. Taehyung kept arguing that his apartment was available, but you didn’t want to take advantage. And yeah, you understand that it’s stupid not accepting a free space where you don’t have to pay rent, but then when you think about how the media would portray it, it all sounds wrong. So you reside in a small apartment a bit larger than your studio, and let him come over. 

“Hey!” The protest rings loud and clear. “I can cook a great ramen, where the noodles aren’t overcooked and there’s just the right amount of broth. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“No, because ramen isn’t healthy.” 

“If you’re going to be like this, find an omega to spoil, Taehyung ah,” you joke. Your heart clenches, but you force the smile to remain on your face. It’s better this way, to create distance. Now that you can’t do that by land or ocean, you have to do it through words. 

Yes, it’s painful, pushing Taehyung away. But you’ve lived with the fantasy of a beta and alpha being compatible for years, only for it to be crushed whenever he slept with another girl, or snapped at you through his ruts. Just like the alpha could be gentle, he could be vicious, too. And it wasn’t—isn’t—your job to calm him down in that area. 

It’s his omega’s.

98% of marriages between an alpha and beta end in divorce, you tell yourself when the idol clenches his jaw. Taehyung and you won’t be any different, not that he’s even interested in you in the first place. 

“So, what are you going to cook?”

“Curry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. The other hand is placed on the small of your back as he kisses your shoulder, then your forehead. “Go rest, love. You look like you’re about to topple over.”

Yeah, because the mattress that you bought—one of the cheaper ones—isn’t as great as the one in America. And as you’re getting older, your back is only annoying you more. So you lay on the sofa as Taehyung cuts the green onions and starts chopping the carrots in silence. When he started cooking, you can’t even recall. All of a sudden, he just starting to grow taller than you did, and take care of you like you used to take care of him. 

It’s unsettling, really. 

You want to scream.

In joy, of course.

Heading home from a cafe, you’re beaming, nearly tripping over the sidewalk as you run home. You managed to finish plotting your novel, and are finally—finally—satisfied at how it would turn out when you start writing it. And today is the day—it has to be. You’re running home when the idol himself calls. 

“You have a meeting today with the PD?” You ask. “Or do you not have anything better to do than annoy me?”

“Ha,” Taehyung mutters. “Funny. I was wondering—” That’s when you spot him. Wearing a coat and dress pants, along with a pair of sneakers by the streetlamp. The wind’s blowing, sending the December snow scattering into your eyes, but you squint through it to get a better glance at him. Your nose is cold, and your teeth are chattering, and you should be home. But here you are, picking Taehyung up. There’s a scarf around his neck, but you know it’s not from him. It’s not his. Shivering, your hands are too numb to press the end call button. 

Taehyung’s eyebrows knit together, but then he glances up. His eyes are smiling already when he steps forward. And you don’t think. You run.

Stupid, stupid mistake. The light might be green, but the snow’s heavy. And your timing has always been terrible. Your legs ache, but then you slam into something. Lights—yellow? white?—flash in front of your eyes, and you don’t know what happens. You’re just on the ground. Your bones feel like they’re shattered, and you whimper. It’s more than numbness you’re feeling now.

Fire. Fire is spreading all throughout your body, and it’s like something has knocked out your voice, making it impossible for you to do anything. 

Then fear. It sets in like the ice pricking your skin. You want to thrash, but you can’t. 

“Love? Love. Love,” he repeats. First with the nickname he gave you, then your actual one. Hovers above you, calling your name, voice hoarse and throaty, panic laced in the edges. Just like always, you’re drawn into Taehyung, your senses tunneling in to focus on nothing but him. Even the sirens drift into the background, along with the other hands that are grabbing you, checking your pulse, making sure you’re alive. 

“Stay with me!”

BONUS (cause I was bored and wanted to stay in this drabble for a little longer):

Providing for you pleases Taehyung. You don’t know it, of course, but the way you unconsciously react to him—eyes brightening, lips curving upwards, and head tilting back—it tells his alpha that you’re submitting to him, eager for his return. Sometimes, before he can think better of not ruining the friendship the two of you established, he’ll lean in and wrap his arms around you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

Fighting the urge to mark and bite it. Leave hickeys around in the area so everyone—including you—can know you’re his. For now, he has to provide indirectly. Making sure that you have a nice apartment, one that isn’t blocked by other buildings and has the right amount of sunlight. You also like the garden balconies, so he gets you one. 

Anything you want, anything you need, it’s yours. 

“We could sleep. It’s just the same bed,” he protests. “We’ve done it since we were kids. Fuck, we take naps together even now with you and top of me.”

“That’s on the sofa.” 

“And what’s the difference of it being on a bed?” 

“There is no difference,” you hesitate. “But you are in rut, Taehyung.”

“Noona,” he sighs. “I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m in tune with my alpha, and I know when my rut will hit me hardest. I promise I’ll be out by then, but I just want to cuddle with someone who’s not my members at all. So come upstairs, okay? I’ll be waiting.” 

He’s not wrong—he is comfortable. Legs tangled together, you let him play with the strands of your hair, arms wrapping around his waist. You can hear his heartbeat, head laid directly over it. That, along with the soft coos his alpha makes, causes your eyes to grow drowsy. So when Taehyung pulls away for a second, you mumble incoherent words, something about your heating pad disappearing. 

And then the alpha hears it—the soft whines that settle when he molds himself to you again. It subsides in an instant, and his eyes widen when he takes in your closed eyes and parted lips. If anything, your beta is calling out to him, and though the two pairs—alpha and beta—aren’t usually mated, this itself shows that you’re attached to him. 

More than attached. Attracted. 

What Fate Decides [Taehyung x Reader] [Part 3]

join tag list for future works | masterlist of all works previous | next drabble

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 become a member on my ko-fi page! or buy me a coffee 💞

summary: You're a beta in love with your best friend, alpha Kim Taehyung. Except you know that you can never fulfill his dominating urges, so you draw a line between the two of you. Cherish his small kisses and embraces until an omega has to come along.

Until one day, you're not a beta anymore. Now, it's nearly impossible to resist the protective, endearing alpha in front of you.

pairing: taehyung x reader

chapter tags/warnings: angst, fluff, alpha/omega, a/b/o dynamics, best friends to lovers, slow burn ish, smut, mature, swearing

note: sorry for the wait all <3 last part coming in a bit! thank you for being here and reading my works (I am forever grateful). If you want to hang out with me, check out my insta, and if you'd like to donate me a coffee, check out my kofi page!

The accident turned you into an omega.

Okay, that’s kind of a lie. You were a dormant omega, apparently, but now you’re a real one. Or something like that. In truth, your face had been pale, and though the doctor’s mouth was moving, nothing seemed to register. Finally, you had been comfortable with being a Beta. And then suddenly, the world shifts it’s axis, it being Wacky Wednesday or something, and you’re an Omega.

You release a wry laugh. What a joke. 

A joke, because you lost your best friend.

A joke, because you lost your freedom. 

A joke, because you feel as if you just lost everything. 

The door swings open to your studio, and you watch as Taehyung is fumbling outside your doorway, hands in his pockets, peeking up from you from under his bangs. Though you normally wouldn’t think anything of it as a beta, the omega side suddenly sees it as groveling. An alpha hunching over and submitting to his omega. 

Ha. Like you’re his omega. There are thousands of them lined up already, begging for his attention no doubt. Adding yourself to the list among the more experienced, and beautiful, ones is a waste of heartbreak. 

“Do you want to come in?” You hesitate, and his mouth twists as he straightens. He’s tall. 

No surprise there. The only surprise should be that your omega is reacting to his height.

“You’re not on suppressants,” he starts, forming into a mother hen. “You have to be on suppressants.” 

God, you can’t even tell how much time has passed since the accident and he’s already making a list, throwing you into the omega life. And besides, it’s been like a week after you discharged? He was there every day at the hospital, but now that you could walk without any issues, he disappeared? 

“I don’t want to be,” you protest. “Why do I have to? I’ve never—”

Oh. Right. Because you’re different now. You sigh at the thought of the mundane life escaping further from your grasp. “Do I have to, though? Is there no other option around it?” 

That makes Taehyung pause from the doorway, and he turns around. 

“There’s this thing,” he starts, swallowing. “Called scenting. And you have a scent that can draw Alphas—”

“But you smell, too,” you wrinkle your nose. “And nobody attacks you or anything—”

“It’s not safe,” he repeats, but there’s a layer underneath it. Dangerous. Possessive. Raw. He growls, and you melt in his arms. Into a puddle of arousal, with the slick gushing out of you and the way your gut is aching. 

“Omega,” he thunders, and something shifts. He’s inching closer, and in the next moment, Taehyung’s kissing your jaw. Groaning. Murmuring, Omega. Let me scent you.

And you tell him—Yes. And when his mouth covers your gland and sucks, you cry out and clutch his arms.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans once more. His teeth scrape the back of your neck, where your gland is located, and you babble incoherent words. “Omega. You smell so good. Taste fucking delicious.” 

This is not a good idea. 

But it’s one that your heart wants. 

Taehyung knows he should contain himself. He has to be the alpha that helps his best friend find a suitable companion. But he can’t help but think that you’re his omega, no matter how much he attempts to think otherwise. He doesn’t want to ruin the dynamic he has with you, but goddamn, he’s attuned to every one of your movements. Like the way you’re curled up against him as the movie plays, legs on top of his own, and head leaning against his chest. There are small, barely audible throaty sounds coming from you as you watch the couple fight, clearly disliking it. And he can’t help but wonder how it feels to suck on your gland again until you’re smothered in his scent.

Then he can’t help but imagine you under him, knotted and preening. He already knows you’re vocal with your whimpers and sighs—and if you can’t stop squirming, he’ll pin you to the bed and bite your glands on your wrists… and rut into you. Fuck, he might not even be able to pull out to thrust back in. 

“Taehyung?” You murmur, eyes wide and innocent, most likely catching the way he stared at you. Like he wanted to devour you. 

In return, the alpha mumbles your name and rests his forehead on your shoulder. It’s hell, he thinks, jaw clenching. You’re wearing his hoodie and no shorts under it, and he’s breathing in your lavender scent, mind repeating: this is hell, but also what content is like. 

It’s insane, how much comfort you bring. You brought it as a beta, but you’re also bringing it as an omega. Taehyung kisses your cheek and embraces you, closing his eyes for a second. The fact that you’re alive and breathing under him—that is enough. It’s all he can ever ask of you, to just keep smiling at him. 

There are some things that changed about him. He started—and he knows that you noticed—calling you love, or baby. He buries his head in the crook of your neck constantly, making sure you smell like him and he you. Satisfaction thrums through Taehyung’s veins when he can smell himself on you. 

Knowing that scenting you earlier meant that you belonged to him. That all his members could smell who you belonged to. His Alpha loves it, too, instead of thrashing around and causing anxiety. Finally, his head quiets. No thoughts about coming home, taking care of you, making sure you’re well fed, rings through his mind. 

“I have something to tell you,” he blurts, and you glance up.

Fuck. He can’t take it anymore. Screw company guidelines. Screw what people thinks. He wants you. All of you.

You’re his happiness; there’s no doubt in his mind that fate put you together. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, placing your hand over his chest, directly where your heartbeat is. “You’re everything to me. My whole world. My—”

“Your omega?”

“My omega. Just like I’m yours, too.” 

tags: @theblueslytherin @tatyhend @tinyoonsblog @vsmith0099 @midnightsora @cupcakesxdomjoon @likeshatteredrainbowglass @scuzmunkie @kookiwu @xjiminsthighsx @dreadity @lovelytaes-blog @noooodlllleeee @ggukkieland @namjoonshug @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hesmyphenominiall @hollyweird0