#a/b/o polyamory
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The sun ☀️, the moon 🌙, and the stars ✨
Chapter 11: heat of the moment
Pairing: alpha!steve Rogers x alpha!sam Wilson x alpha!bucky Barnes x omega!reader
Word count: 3.9k
Warning: smut! All the smut… I don’t think I’ve ever written so much smut for one chapter! Heat, ruts, claiming, biting, bond marks little tiny bit of insecure reader at the end. Some oral (f receiving), tiny bit of choking (you’ll see),
A/N:I’m surprised wrote this so quickly but I had been thinking about this chapter for a while. As always let me know your thoughts, I appreciate the reblogs and comments it hyped me up to write more.
Series Masterlist
“My heat?”
“Yeah sunshine. It makes sense we’ve been around each other nonstop for the last week and a half. It was bound to happen.”
“But it didn’t feel so-so bad last time.” You whined.
“Possibly because you’ve been with the three of us constantly.” Sam says. “What do you want to do, sunshine? We can get Bruce here to help get rid of the symptoms or…”
“Or what?”
“We could help you through it. But it’s your choice if we claim you or not.” Steve says.
“Would you want to?” Your voice was small and you were afraid that they’d say no.
“Of course we do, you’re our best girl.” Bucky speaks up.
“I’d like that. To have your marks, all three of you.” You said before groaning when you felt more slick forming between your legs. It didn’t help that their scents were stronger now, this was just your body’s way of reacting to them.
“Ok, sweetheart. Everything is your choice, we’ll do what you want. Who do you want first?”
You looked at the three of them wide eyed.
“Sunshine, you’re ok. You’re safe with us. Just say the word and we’ll stop ok?”
You nodded, your brain foggy and thinking about only one thing.
“Use your words baby.”
“What I say goes.”
“Good girl.” Sam purrs out as he sat down in the nest you’d built.
Before Steve and Bucky left you and Sam, you practically demanded their shirts to add to the nest. Their scents helped soothe you. Any of them would have been a good choice as your first but Sam had been the one you connected with first. He had eased your worries about being in a relationship not only with an alpha but with the three of them. It would only make sense that as your hindbrain took over that you’d seek that same comfort in this part of the relationship.
“Tell me what you want, omega?”
“You. I want you alpha.” You whined as you straddled his thick thighs.
Sam didn’t stop you when you played with the hem of his t-shirt and then pulled it over his head. You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times and you’ve even had a few make out sessions that also ended with him shirtless but this was different. Sam placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer before crashing his lips into yours. He only pulls away to take off your shirt and then his lips are on your neck and chest until he takes your nipple in his mouth. Your hips jerk forward as a reaction to his ministrations. Especially when his hand finds its place between your thighs and is expertly teasing your clit.
“Sam please.”
“I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel good.” He murmured against your skin.
Without warning he ripped the leggings you were wearing. Which was a good thing because you felt like you were burning up.
“Is all this for me?” Sam said with a cocky smirk as he felt the wetness that pooled between your legs.
“Alpha, please. Need you.”
“So pretty when you beg, omega.”
Sam moved you back slightly, enough to pull down his sweats. At any other moment you would have realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear but right now you were more interested in getting some sort of relief. Your attention was on his hardened length and instinctively you wrapped your hand around it and began to move it up and down. You preened when he moaned out your name.
“Y/N, are you sure you want this? Do you want me to claim you?” He asked one more time before he completely lost himself. You couldn’t tell yet but his rut was being triggered just by your heightened scent alone.
“Yes alpha. Want your mark and your knot.”
Sam growled at that and then an arm wrapped around you, pulling you up so that he could line himself up with your entrance. Your breath hitched as you lowered yourself onto him. You had been with a beta once but he didn’t compare to Sam. Sam was bigger, you were sure they would all be. The stretch was a bit uncomfortable at the beginning. He was gently running his hands up and down your thighs to keep you grounded and kissing your neck and chest to distract you. Once you were fully seated and you had a chance to get used to him, he cursed under his breath.
“Are you good, sunshine?”
“Mhm.”
“Take your time baby, I’m all yours. It’s just us, nothing else matters.” Sam smiles up at you as his hands move to your hips.
But you couldn’t wait anymore and you rolled your hips. You moaned as you did it once and a second time. Sam helps you build a steady rhythm by guiding your hips. Soon that isn’t enough and your hands are on his shoulders as you start to bounce on his cock.
“Fuck ‘mega. Feel so good, taking me so well.” Sam mutters. The grip he has on your hips tightens as he starts to take control. It causes more slick to drip from your center and you whine. “Make a mess on my cock ‘mega. Just like that.”
“Alpha, please.” You beg. “W-wanna cum.” You were right there on the edge of bliss but you needed a small push.
His scent was intoxicating, the way Sam held you close was comforting but it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world that made you throw your head back. Giving him easy access so that he could claim you. Sam shifted under you a bit, planting his feet firmly and thrusting up into you. That was all you needed as he hit your g-spot over and over again. It was sudden the wave of pure bliss crashed over you. Sam nearly growled as you clenched around him. Then you felt his teeth break skin but there was no pain, not when he helped you through your orgasm.
You were panting and resting your forehead against his shoulder while he rolled his hips a few more times before his knot locked you into place. He guided you to his neck, urged you to claim him just as he had you and you did it happily and he came with a grunt of your name.
The bond snapped into place and you’d never felt so alive or connected to anyone before.
“So good for me ‘mega.” Sam said softly as he pulled a blanket over you. He kissed your temple. You wanted to say something but you were so tired, your eyelids felt heavy. “It’s ok. Just rest.”
Without a worry in the world you relaxed against him and closed your eyes.
****
“Sam?” You called out as you woke up, worried he had left you.
“I’m right here sunshine.” He poked his head out from the bathroom and smiled at you.
Warmth spread through your chest as you made eye contact and your hand flew to your neck. There you found his mark on you and his smile brightened even more.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Great actually but…”
“But?”
“A little sore.” You said, a bit afraid he’d be upset but he smirked instead. Pride flooded the bond.
“Yeah you are.”
“Sam!” You felt heat rush to your cheeks and more slick formed at the thought of what you had done with him.
“It’s ok baby. I have just the thing for you.”
He walked out of the bathroom and without missing a beat he picked you up. The bathroom was warmer and there were a few candles set up. The bathtub was filled with water and you could smell whatever scented oils he used. There were a few flower petals floating on top too. Sam turned in order to set you down in the tub but your grip on his neck tightened.
“Get in with me?” You looked up at him with doe eyes, something you knew he couldn’t resist.
“Of course.”
Sam got in first and then you did, sitting between his legs and resting your back against his chest. His fingers delicately drew patterns up and down your arm and you sighed contently.
“Thank you.” You said after a few minutes of silence.
“For what?”
“Everything. You’ve been wonderful.”
“Baby, I’d do anything for you. We all would.” He says.
“I know.” You turn to look at him. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful and I’d do anything for the three of you.”
Sam smiles and places a gentle, loving kiss on your lips.
“Well all I want you to do for me right now is to get comfortable again and enjoy this bath before things get intense again.”
You smile and do as he says, enjoying the feel of his kiss on his mark.
Sam had placed you back in your nest. He cuddled with you a bit longer but as your heat built up again he knew it was time for him to let Steve or Bucky in. Even though he was reluctant to do so. Even amongst a pack like theirs possessiveness was bound to happen during an omega’s first heat with her alphas if there were more than one. He knew it was ridiculous to feel that way but he couldn’t help it.
With one last kiss to your forehead Sam got out of the nest you’d built that now smelled like sex. He was replaced by Bucky at your request. You sighed happily when you felt his vibranium hand caress your cheek.
“How are you feeling?” Bucky checked in with you.
“Bad, need you.”
“I know, moonbeam. I’m gonna take care of you now.” Bucky cooed. “Do you still want this? Want my mark on your neck?”
You only nodded as you felt that all familiar fuzziness taking over.
“Use your words darling.”
“Yes, I want it.”
“Good girl.” Bucky smirked as you preened.
He pulled back the blanket you’d been wrapped up in, leaving you bare for him. Bucky inhaled deeply as the sweet scent of French lavender, violets and honey that usually lulled him into a sense of calm, now made him feel alive in a different way. He couldn’t help but settle in between your legs. His lips moving up your thighs and leaving a trail of kisses. Bucky didn’t waste any time as he licked a long stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. He growled at your taste before sealing his lips around your bundle of nerves.
You gasped at the sensation and your hands found their way into Bucky’s hair. The sweet sounds you were making were like music to his ears and he wanted to hear more. Soon enough he slowly started using a finger to fuck you.
“So fucking good omega.” He murmured against your mound before he started to flick his tongue over your clit.
“Alpha please.”
If the heat alone wasn’t enough, Bucky’s very talented mouth wiped all functions from your brain. You knew what you wanted but you couldn’t ask for it. Not with the way he was using two fingers to find that spongy spot inside. The need low in your belly built quickly and you found yourself grinding against his face.
“Be a good girl and cum for your alpha.” Bucky growled and it sent a shiver down your spine and straight to your pussy. You moaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
It took a moment to come down from that high but when you did Bucky was gently caressing your cheek. He smiled at you when you finally looked up at him.
“So pretty when you cum, omega. I wanna see you do it on my knot.”
“Please alpha.” You reached for him and he gladly ducked his head and kissed you. Another moan escapes your lips when you taste yourself on his tongue.
Bucky moves to hover over you without breaking the kiss. Your legs part willingly as he settles himself in between them. When you feel his cock, already hard and leaking precum, against your heat you roll your hips.
“So desperate ‘mega. Is this what you want?” He rolled his hips and you moaned.
You nod and whine as he pulls away slightly. Bucky lines himself up, groaning as he pushes in.
“Look at that, you were made just for me.”
His hands find yours and he puts them over your head, pinning them with one hand. Bucky is slow with a roll of his hips. As much as he wanted to go fast and hard, he remembered that you were more delicate. He had much more restraint than he realized, even when you sounded so pretty.
“Alpha…”
“What do you want, omega? Tell me.” He ran his nose along your neck and he placed a kiss over Sam’s mark before giving your breasts attention.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Faster. Harder.”
The growl that rumbled in his chest had you clenching around him.
“Are you sure about that darling? Think you can handle me fucking you like that?”
“Yes, please. Need it.”
Bucky smirked, his eyes completely dark and full of lust. His hand letting go of yours and traveling down your body until they’re at your hips. He pulled away from you, sitting up on his haunches and pulling you with him. Bucky snaps his hips once, testing out if that’s really what you want. You throw your head back with a moan as you hold on to his forearms. He does it again and again until he’s built a rhythm that is pushing you to the edge. He knows it just by the way you flutter and clench around him, that and the chorus of yes and alpha that pour out from your mouth.
When you finally reach your peak and you’re engulfed in pure pleasure, Bucky leans over and marks you. You feel his teeth break skin and then his tongue runs over the new mark. The next thing you feel is his knot and you will yourself to look up at him. He’s so beautiful like this, completely blissed out and barely holding back. Bucky offers you his neck and you claim him just how he had done with you. His knot catches and keeps him in place as he whispers your name. With a few final sloppy thrusts, Bucky cums.
Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you with him so that you’re laying on top of him completely. With a satisfied sigh and a smile on both your lips you let sleep take you as Bucky mutters praises in your ear.
****
To your surprise Bucky is still in the nest with you. He was seated up with his back resting against the pillows you had placed to the side earlier. He smiles as you look up at him.
“Hey there sleepyhead.”
“Hey.” You sit up and move to straddle his thighs and hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, just wanna be close to you.”
You missed Bucky’s sweet smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close for a few minutes, just enjoying the new bond that had been formed between the two of you.
“You need to drink some water.” He muttered a few minutes later. You pulled back to see he had a water bottle close by as well as some snacks. “Gotta keep your energy up, darling.” He said when he followed your eyes.
“I don’t want to eat.”
“What, all you wanna do is fuck?” He teases.
“Yeah.” You teased right back and he laughed. It was still a new and strange sensation, feeling his happiness through the bond. Along with that feeling Sam’s curiosity piqued.
“Just a few bites of something darling. Let me take care of you.”
“Ok.”
“Good girl.” Bucky’s praise sent a shiver up your spine.
The rest of the time with Bucky was spent cuddling and napping. You weren’t sure what time it actually was but you didn’t care as you were lulled to sleep with the coolness of Bucky’s left hand on your forehead.
The door opens slowly to reveal Steve. He was shirtless and was wearing sweats that hung low on his hips. The sight was mouth watering. He had a smirk on his face and a dark, lust blown look in his eye.
“Hi my sweet starlight.” He said as he walked in and closed the door.
“Hi.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Just you.” You whispered.
“Good answer.”
Although Steve is radiating the confidence that comes with being the head of the pack, both the team and personal, he’s gentle as he gets into the nest. He still understands how vulnerable you are at the moment. Steve hovers over you as he crashes his lips against yours. This kiss is more dominant and all consuming than any you’d shared before. You moan against his lips as his hands find your breasts and palms them.
“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks against your lips and you nod. “Do you want more?” You nod again.
“Please alpha, need more.”
“Then present for your alpha.” He whispered in your ear.
The command left no room for argument. Not that you would, the growl laced within it spoke directly to your inner omega. You scrambled to get on your hands and knees. Just for good measure you lowered your chest toward the floor and wiggled your hips for him. You heard his groan and then felt a sting on your ass from where he smacked you.
“Such a tease. You’ve been doing it for weeks.” He mutters before smacking your ass again after hearing your moan.
“You’re a tease.”
“Is that what you think baby?”
“Yes.” You say breathlessly as you feel Steve shift behind you and run his hardened length between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated there.
“No more teasing then. I’m gonna give you what you want.”
“Please alpha.” You wiggle your ass for him one more time before he buries himself inside you in one thrust.
That was enough to knock the wind out of your lungs and your mouth to hang open. Steve could feel you clenching around him and it took everything in him to not fuck you into oblivion. At least not yet, he knew he needed to ease into it. Steve pulled back slowly and immediately you felt empty so you pushed back into him.
“Someone’s desperate.” He teases while grabbing your hips to keep you in place.
Then he pushes back into your warm cunt. Steve leaves a trail of kisses up your spine while he ruts into you.
“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” He whispers into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
Steve straightens up and starts to thrust harder and faster. You grip the pillow closest to you as you take every inch of him. He’s turned you into putty in his hands and all you can do is moan and writhe beneath him.
It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling that fire deep in your belly build. It’s obvious to Steve that you’re close with the way you’re making a mess and fluttering around his cock. His hand snakes around your body and wraps around your throat and he pulls you up. Steve moves his free hand from your hip to your clit, giving you added stimulation.
“Alpha… So good.” You said, over and over again.
“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl? I know you are. I can feel you squeezing me. So fucking tight.”
The combination of his filthy words, thrusts and hand between your legs was enough. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and the only thing keeping you up is Steve’s arms around you. His head is buried in your neck and that’s when you realized he’s left his mark on your neck. Before you can enjoy the feeling, Steve is pulling away and laying you down on your back before settling between your legs again. He smiles down at you while he lines himself up again.
This time when you look at him you can see the tenderness in his eyes. He’s gentle and caring with how he searches for his own release. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek as he whispers your name as he finds his own bliss and exposes his next to you. His knot seals you together for the moment, but your mark on his neck seals you together forever. Before moving Steve peppers kisses all over your face. Then as carefully as he can he moves to lay on his side. Your leg thrown over his hip and his arms around your waist to keep you close.
****
You’re cuddled up next to Steve when an overwhelming feeling washes over you. You can’t stop the silent tears that slip through your lashes and fall on his bare chest. He pulled back to get a better look at you at the sensation and noticed the tears.
“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he sits up, bringing you with him. “Did I hurt you?”
You shake your head. There’s no real way to explain it. Soon the door to the room opens to reveal Bucky and Sam. They both have worried expressions on their faces.
“Talk to me baby. What’s wrong? Do you need something?”
“No, I just- I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels like a lot.” You said as you moved into Steve’s lap looking for comfort.
The three alphas look at each other, concerned that maybe they moved too fast. The last thing they wanted was to make you feel forced or trapped in a relationship.
“I’ve been so alone for most of my life. But now I have you, all of you. What if I’m not go-“
“Don’t even think about it.” Bucky cut you off. “We’ve talked about this darling. On our date remember.” He was sitting beside Steve so that you could see him. “Feeling like we don’t belong but we do, you do. That feeling right now, I know it. I felt the same way when I was first mated and bonded.”
“You did?”
“Yeah I did. It took me a while to figure out what that overwhelming feeling that sits right,” he leans forward and touches your chest. “There. It’s the bond and more importantly what you’re feeling is love. It’s the love we have for you.”
“You love me?”
“Sweetheart of course we do.”
“We love you so much.”
“Absolutely.”
They all said at the same time.
“I- I love you too. All of you.” You admitted.
That feeling in your chest warmed you from the inside out. Steve tipped your head back and kissed you softly.
“You have us and we never want you to doubt your place in our pack.” Sam adds. “I don’t think you’ve realized it but you’ve got us wrapped around your finger, sunshine.”
The following few days were a blur. Sam, Bucky and Steve’s rut started a few hours after your heat. The four of you were a tangled mess of limbs within the confines of your nest. They took care of you and you returned the favor.
It was overwhelming and scary, comforting and safe. The more you settled into the bond the more at home you felt. Never again would you be alone. You had your pack to make you feel safe and loved and cherished.
In those first few days understanding the bond and the connection with all three alphas was confusing. But then it clicked. You realized you were more than true mates, your souls were connected too.
Ch 12
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#the sun the moon and the stars series#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader#alpha!sam wilson x omega!reader#alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader#alpha!steve Rogers smut#alpha!bucky Barnes smut#alpha!sam Wilson smut#sam wilson smut#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes smut#alpha!stucky x omega!reader#alpha!sambucky x omega!reader#alpha!samsteve x omega!reader#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o universe#a/b/o polyamory#steve rogers x female!reader#sam wilson x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female!reader
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Brat Taming: Part 3
“You are going to do amazing today,” Jake mumbled against your lips while his large and warm hands slid up and down your hips, easing the last few tendrils of your anxiousness before you had entered the building and started your new promotional job Ari had given you.
“This is the alpha we’re going to be attempting to court, Jake. What if…what if I screw up and what if he…what if I can’t distinguish between my boss and my potential alpha?” Your hands, in return, had rested upon his shoulders to brace yourself and get the last few moments of comfort from your best friend and great love.
“You will be okay, baby bear.” Jake had removed one hand from your hip and rested it against your back, his steady eyes searching yours while you had stepped closer to him and briefly rest your cheek against his shoulder. “I know you will do amazing, you are smart and beautiful. You’re quick on your feet and you’re capable.”
“Jake…” You hummed and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment that would have seemed ambiguous to the untrained eye but was wholly intimate.
“Trust me,” Jake had pulled away when a small group of men and women had departed the building and you were on the cusp of potentially being late, “you got this. You’re going to kick ass and Ari Levinson is going to be in awe.”
You had leaned forward and rested your head against Jake’s shoulders as you had before, your soft laugh muffled against his graphic hoodie. His hands had continued their path up and down your hips, feeling the soft material of your plain black pencil skirt against his palms. It was a simple outfit you had chosen with a simple structure that was both comfortable and chic, though you imagined it was far less expensive than most other women who would work here.
“You have more confidence in me than I have in myself.” With Jake, it was easy to let those walls down and expose your struggles with confidence and bravado, it was far too easy to lean against him and whisper your worries before you started the first day of your new promotion to work under the big boss.
“You will be amazing.” Jake’s chest rumbled against your ear, his heart racing in time to meet yours as you kept yourself pressed against him, unable to let go. You were unable to pull yourself from your great love and head into the building to start your day, and yet you had to. “I’ll call you at lunch, maybe we’ll go out.”
You hummed in response and pulled yourself away then proceeded to smooth down your skirt with your palms, exhaling slowly as you did a soft, small spin. You were looking for last-minute approval of your chosen outfit from the simple black pencil skirt and black pumps, to the lace trimmer blouse you had tucked inside the waist. Your hair was pulled out of your face and held by a few hairpins, nothing spectacular or bold. You were well put together but your choices were not rooted in great wealth you knew others could afford.
“You’re going to take his breath away.” Jake beamed and gave you a dorky thumbs-up, the motion earning another soft laugh and as you stepped back toward him to bid him goodbye, you stole a kiss and then turned on your heel to finally enter the building.
When you stepped through the doors and had entered the building, there was a distinct aesthetic that had been laid out from one side of the building to the next, with the clear-coated marble floors and gold trim that encased every seam, every inch of the floors and the ceiling above you. The security desk on the left of the lobby was as immaculate and elegant seeming, the dark stained wood standing against the cream-coloured walls and the light-coloured marble. It was a contrast that had seemed captivating enough, the elegance and thought that had gone into the architectural and interior designs of the lobby alone, but what had seemed even more captivating was the alpha waiting for you.
Ari Levinson, despite being a CEO and a very powerful man, was waiting by the security desk for you, like he had told Jake he would be when he called last night.
The sight of him standing by the security desk in a sleek dark grey suit with a slim black tie wasn’t just stirring your anxiousness for the promotion, but your admiration for the alpha who was beyond measurable beauty.
He was tall and broad, his blue eyes bright and captivating. His hair, albeit longer than Ransom’s and Steve’s, was no less impressive as it brushed the back of his neck and skiffed his shoulders. You were frozen where you stood, analyzing this perfect alpha while your stomach did flips end over end.
“Sweetheart,” you had been moving autonomously, walking toward him on instinct alone until you were stopped a few feet from him, “you look gorgeous.”
Ari Levinson was a menacing alpha, but not cruelly so. It was his beauty, it was the appearance and the verbal bark tone husk that was menacing in itself. He was far too attractive to be real and yet not only was he standing in front of you in the flesh, but he had wanted you. This Adonis of an alpha put in three requests to court you for the sake of mating with you and Jake alike.
“Thank you, Mr. Levinson.” You were cordial, if not a little nervous and it was showing.
“Please sweetheart, you’re going to be my omega. You, of everyone I work with, should be able to call me Ari.” He had smiled graciously and you knew you were in trouble.
“You don’t know if I’m going to be your omega, nothing is set in stone.” You had rebutted, unable to stop the words from falling from you. “It’s courting, I can change my mind.”
“You could change your mind,” Ari grasped the security badge you would need and slid it against the counter toward you, your name and submitted pictures of yourself solidified on hard plastic, “but I’d wager you won’t.”
“Confident in your abilities to woo an omega?” You picked up the security badge and secured the badge to your blouse via the metal clip, avoiding his penetrative gaze as you had spoken.
“I’m confident in my abilities to woo two omegas,” Ari had placed his hand on your arm, finally directing your attention back to him, his blue eyes searching yours as he held your gaze, the corner of his plump lips twitching the longer you looked at each other.
“You’ve won Jake over already?” You sounded surprised but you shouldn’t have been. Jake had gone through every possible record and detail of their lives, of all their lives, and he had been sure that these alphas were the ones you needed. He had been so confident in the choices, so assured that they weren’t just good to be around, but that they would be good for the two of you in the long run.
“Jake is amazing, Y/N. You couldn’t have chosen a better omega.” Ari’s hand slipped down to the small of your back, fingers spread as they rest against your skirt, heat spreading from his body to yours.
“Jake is amazing. He’s my best friend and he’s…he’s everything.” Your ability to rein in your adoration and deeply seeded love for Jake was difficult, it was difficult when another alpha had found him as wondrous as you had.
“So are you, honey.” Ari had stepped into the elevator with you, and in the cover of the metal box with just the two of you, Ari had brushed your hair off your shoulders and tapped his thumb against your scent gland, the small pressure making you simper. “Your neck will look beautiful with our marks.”
“If you manage to put them there,” you retorted and stepped away, your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, betrayed by your hindbrain and base reactions, “even if you seem confident, it won’t be easy.”
“Of course not, baby girl. We wouldn’t expect any different.” Ari had winked at you, your body reacting in contrast with your brain.
“We?” You cocked a hip and crossed your arms over your chest, inching away from him while watching the number of floors increase with every second.
“Ransom, Steve and I. We know you’ll put a fight.” Ari was no less elated by the idea than you were confused. “What? You didn’t think the three of us hadn’t talked before that first date? Omega, baby…we’re gonna be a pack. We need to know who we’re dealing with.”
“We are not going to be a pack. Not anytime soon.” You snipped defensively, closing yourself off temporarily. “And you don’t need to ‘deal’ with me or Jake-“
“Sweetheart, I wasn’t talking about you and I wasn’t talking about your sweet omega.” Ari turned toward you and faced you more head-on than he had before. “Ransom Drysdale and Steve Rogers, we had talked before to figure each other out. Steve and I are largely on the same page with who and what we want, and that synonymously works together to create two protective alphas who are prepared to fall deep and madly in love with omegas but Ransom-“
“He’s a bit of a wild card.” You finished for him, feeling relief when the doors opened and you were able to step off but before you had, Ari had stopped you by grabbing your hand.
“I’m serious, honey. Steve and I, we’re ready to fall and fall hard. Jake…yes, we partially won him over already.”
“I won’t be that easy,” You pulled your hand out of his and straightened your posture, “Mr. Levinson.”
“I hoped you wouldn’t be.”
The elevator doors opened and closed, and Ari’s first assistant had rolling her eyes as the steady chatter of another surprise guest to the office, who had come by unexpectedly had irritated the woman. She was less pleased by your arrival than you anticipated, although you could imagine that her animosity to you had to do with the numerous times she had tried to proposition Ari when you were in a lower position than you had now.
Still, when she had huffed for the third time in a short ten minutes, you had raised your head in wonderment to see what had caused the ruckus. Your attention had briefly fallen to the omega who was sitting behind the desk that was stationed across from you, the pearlescent white top matched the mac computer she was typing on, her steely grey eyes rolling for the fourth time.
She had, unlike you, been rather bold and brazen about her attempts to get with Ari and had been pointedly egotistical about her Chanel bag and Jimmy Choo heels that she had been given for Christmas. It was a blatant attempt to make you feel distraught about the clothes you had gotten from Target, although she had overlooked your ability to give a damn.
“This better not be a regular occurrence,” her high pitched voice was upturned in envy as she cast her glare from you to the visitor, an alpha you couldn’t see through the crowd of people surrounding him, “just because you happen to be the boss’ chew toy-“
Her scathing accusations had drawn ire and a little pity from you, as you pushed your chair back and stood, your heel discarded and your feet bare as you pressed your hands against the top of the desk and leaned over, looking for any indication to identify the alpha. When the crowd had started to depart, you had received your first solid look at the alpha, and your heart had simultaneously dropped and thrashed wildly.
The commotion outside of the elevator had made perfect sense once you saw the mighty avenger on the office floor, his reputation as Captain America earning him admiration that came with the kind of manic need to get an autograph or at the very least thank him for his service. And now that the Avenger was here, you could only speculate that between his appearance and Charlotte’s irritation aimed solely at you, Steve Rogers was here for you.
Not only was he here but he, like Ari, had appeared unnaturally beautiful in a black leather jacket and dark wash jeans, a shirt that was tight across the chest and had only made the powerful alpha look even larger. His hair was combed back out of his face and there was a distinct pattern of facial hair that had not been taken care of.
“Fuck me.” You whispered under your breath getting the sense that both Ari and Steve were going to grow full beards, you and Jake would both be screwed. “What is he doing here?”
“Are you stupid?“ Charlotte hissed and stood from where she had sat, moving purposefully around the desk to smack a file down on your desk with a sour expression marring her face. “Deal with these files. It’s in your job description.”
She had brushed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her shoulders back before she straightened herself out and started walking toward Steve while her scent had become thickly laden with desire and want. Her hips swayed dramatically as she stalked toward him her red lips stretched into a seductive smile as she greeted him with an over-boisterous hitch to her voice.
“Mr. Rogers! How nice to see you again!” You had averted your eyes and flipped open the file, reading but not comprehending what was on the pages in front of you. Rather, you had listened in to the conversation that had ended almost as soon as it began, with Charlotte getting rebuffed and Steve brushing past her.
“Hello, doll.” His voice was thick and alluring, and you cursed your hindbrain again for the way your stomach flipped at the sound.
“Mr. Rogers,” you clenched your thighs and bounced your knee below the desk, torn between diving headfirst as Jake had, and playing it cool, “anything I can help you with?”
You raised your head and caught his gaze, your entire body freezing at the sight of him so close to you. The way his scent had reflected your own, the way it was wavering softly, projecting as if it was alive and willing to coil around you like a thick, warm blanket.
“I’m here for you, sweetheart.” When Steve had smiled at you when he had hit you with the softly spoken ‘sweetheart’, you had never felt more divided and more torn on how to respond to his intentions to make you melt.
“Me?” Your gaze flitted toward your computer screen, a message popping up from Jake that had derailed the plans you had made that morning, and yet you couldn’t find fault with him.
‘Try and have a good time with Ari and Steve. I’m going to see Ransom today. Love you, bear!’
“Are you busy? Ari and I were hoping to take you out.” He smiled again, brightly, and you were remiss to deny him. You were remiss to deny Ari.
They were, as Jake had said good alphas. They were good men and this is what you both wanted. You warned Ari that you wouldn’t be easy, that this wouldn’t be a task they could start and think you would roll over and show your belly.
Even if Jake was already in deep.
“Out? Like I’m a puppy on a leash?” You directed your attention, briefly, to the office door as Ari stepped out and closed the door behind him, smirking at you and Steve together.
“A collar and leash are more Drysdale’s thing, we were thinking more along the lines of iced coffee.” Steve cracked a grin and held his hand out for you to take, gently helping you stand as you swiped your phone from the desk and slipped it into your purse pocket.
“If that arrogant alpha tried to give me a leash, I’d strangle him with it.” You huffed and pushed your chair beneath your desk before yanking your purse from the floor and draping it across your shoulder.
“I have no doubts about that, doll.” Steve placed his hand upon your lower back and escorted you gently, his lips brushing against your cheek.
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#alpha!ari levinson x reader fluff#alpha!ari levinson x reader#alpha!ari levinson x omega!reader#omega!jake jensen#alpha!Ari Levinson x omega!reader x alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!Jake Jensen x alpha!Ransom Drysdale#alpha!steve rogers x reader#alpha!steve rogers#alpha!Steve Rogers x reader#alpha!ransom drysdale imagines#alpha!ransom drysdale x reader#brat taming series#brat taming#brat taming part 3#a/b/o#a/b/o polyamory#bisexual!Jake Jensen
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Before I leave you (Pt.67)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).
Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,
W/c: 12.5k
A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.
Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.
The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-
Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.
There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-
You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.
Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.
He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.
Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.
Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.
But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).
There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.
But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.
No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).
It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.
It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.
"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."
They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.
“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.
Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”
A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.
He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.
Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."
Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.
“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”
“Fuck my stitches hyung.”
Numb fingers meet numb faces.
He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.
That’s my girl.
He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.
Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.
"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"
Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.
“Kookie-”
Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.
Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?
The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.
Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.
Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.
Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.
Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.
And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.
There isn’t much to say.
Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?
The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.
That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.
There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.
“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”
Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“
Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”
“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.
“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.
“Do you think we can wait that long?”
“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.
You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.
Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”
Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”
But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.
Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.
Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.
“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”
Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.
“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”
They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.
But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?
(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)
It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.
Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.
Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.
"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."
The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.
Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.
(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.
Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)
Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.
When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.
"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"
Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.
Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."
He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.
Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”
Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.
Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.
The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.
If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?
Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.
He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.
Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.
Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.
He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.
“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”
Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?
He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.
But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?
Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.
The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.
Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.
The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.
Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.
Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?
Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.
Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.
Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.
With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.
In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.
Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.
In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.
~-~
Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.
So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.
He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.
Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.
Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.
You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.
The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.
Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.
Namjoon apologizes after every wince.
The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.
Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.
"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.
You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-
You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-
Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.
You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.
When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.
Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.
“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”
“Namjoon-”
He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.
The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.
And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.
When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.
Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.
Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.
Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.
You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.
Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.
Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.
You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.
Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.
Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.
You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.
You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.
Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.
Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.
Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.
Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.
He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.
Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.
Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.
Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.
"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."
Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.
“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.
Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.
You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.
"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.
"No, I've got them.”
“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”
"Guys"
They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.
The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.
It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.
You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.
For a second, no one says anything, but then-
“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.
"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.
"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.
Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.
You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.
Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.
Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.
He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."
Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.
"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”
With you, it's going to take a little longer.
Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.
“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?
The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”
You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.
You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.
Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.
Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-
“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.
“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."
You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.
"Don't scruff me."
"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.
“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-
Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."
You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.
“Yoongi.”
“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.
Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”
He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.
Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.
He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”
Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.
If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.
(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).
Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.
You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.
A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.
It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-
Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.
Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.
Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.
~-~
Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.
Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.
Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.
Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.
You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.
Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.
You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.
The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.
There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.
One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.
“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“
"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"
"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"
“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”
Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.
The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.
You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.
It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.
You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.
The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.
The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.
You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.
You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.
Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.
“Did you like your courting present pup?”
Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.
In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.
Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.
You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.
She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”
“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”
You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.
You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.
“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.
“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”
"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.
“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"
Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.
"Even if I’m not here.”
For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.
But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.
“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."
You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.
I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.
“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”
Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.
Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.
It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.
You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.
“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."
"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”
The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.
~-~
(Hoseok, a few years prior)
The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;
A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.
A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.
Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.
Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.
Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.
Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?
Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).
It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).
(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)
Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."
He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.
“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.
It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.
Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.
Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.
Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.
Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"
Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.
His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."
"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."
But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.
That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.
It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.
At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.
Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.
Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.
“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.
Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.
It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.
Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.
(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)
“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”
“How much did he steal?”
“300k”
Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.
“A finger for every 100 then.”
The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.
“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”
“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”
“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”
Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.
“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”
"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.
"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.
Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."
Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.
Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?
They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.
Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.
“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.
They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.
Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.
“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.
Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”
“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)
“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."
"Is he underaged?"
"No, he's just got health issues."
"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.
He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.
Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."
And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.
(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.
Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.
Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.
All packmates of a Don get put on the list;
no matter if they're active or past.)
Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.
If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).
It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.
By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).
He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.
And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.
As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")
Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.
Pack Omega 🌙 calling.
Pick up? Decline?
Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.
Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.
“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”
Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.
Even when you know it could hurt you.
Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”
Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Moonbyul please-”
“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.
It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.
It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."
Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.
His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.
“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."
Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”
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Notes:
in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.
every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.
(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.
i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.
are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈
….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3
also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.
what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard
#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts gang au#bts mafia au#bts polyamory au#bts au#bts fluff#bts hurt/comfort#bts werewolf au#bts angst bts omegaverse fic#bts hybrid fic#min yoongi fic#kim namjoon fic#kim seokjin fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#jjk#pjm#myg#knj#kth#ksj#jhs#jung hoseok fic#min yoongi x reader#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader
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Ready for harvest
Summary: You and your alphas play another game.
Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 6 – Friday, April 19 – Slick
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Alpha!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader; Alpha!John Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: implied smut/light smut, somnophilia, use of a sex swing, implied taking turns, blindfolds, use of a safe word, aftercare, consensual degrading, daddy kink, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, established polyamorous relationship, fluff
Catch up here: Hungry like the wolf
A/N: The story takes place in Season 10. John is still alive for my storyline.
Words: 1,3 k+
SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist
A snowstorm ruined your plans, but it offered a new opportunity. While stuck at the bunker with your alphas, you came up with new ideas to kill time.
Strip poker. Chasing a fake monster. Strip charade. Naked cooking contests.
Five days later you’re still stuck in the bunker, unable to leave it because of the snow masses blocking all exits.
Luckily you’re always prepared and got enough food, because and men around to survive for even for weeks without leaving the bunker.
“Good thing I bought all the good shit before the weather decided to fuck us over,” John grins at you. “What do you say, Y/N? Do you want to try it out? I got it in our playroom.”
You chuckle at his eagerness. It was his idea to turn one of the rooms at the bunker into a playroom for you and your alphas.
“Okay, show me what you bought,” you lean closer to whisper in his ear, “Daddy.”
“Careful or I’ll take you right here, in the hallways.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you grin, remembering the night John pounced on you after you sneaked into the kitchen for a late-night snack. He fucked you right there, on the floor for his sons to watch. “It was so hot and dirty.”
“Because we all took turns,” Sam suddenly stands behind you to grope your ass. For a man his size, he’s fucking stealthy. “So, what are we up to today? Can I sort the books at the library, or did we find something more interesting to do?”
You smirk at Sam.
“I think our omega wants to play,” John snickers. He unashamedly cups his crotch. It’s only you and his sons, and all of you have seen all of him over the years. No one around to judge you for being a pack’s omega.
“Hmm…” you run your fingertips over the sex swing hammock John decided to buy. You feel the soft leather to check the quality. “It looks nice.” You’re unsure for the first time.
“If you don’t like it, we can just chase you around the bunker and play hide and seek,” Dean joins the party. “We thought it’d be nice if you played pillow princess and just enjoyed the ride.”
“Pillow princess?” You snort. It’s not your style to just take it. “How will this work?” You tug at the straps to test the stability of the hammock. “Me?”
“I want you to wear this,” John purrs and holds a blindfold in front of your face. “We want to play guess the cock.”
“You’re kinky, Mr. Winchester,” you snatch the blindfold out of his hands. “Black silk, huh?”
“For special occasions, sweetheart,” Dean looks at the blindfold in your hands. “We want to give you a special night.”
“You want to get your dick wet,” you playfully slap his chest. “You horny bastard.”
Dean chuckles. “You know me so well, baby.”
“I know all of you,” you smirk darkly. “Every dirty little secret and every kink.”
“Do you trust us?” John cups your cheek. “We’d love to give you a new experience. But only if you want it.”
“Only if you promise to not tease me,” you poke your finger into his chest. “Last time you edged me for too long and then, you didn’t let me cum!”
“That was sweet punishment,” Sam taunts. “And we will do it again.”
“If you play your cards right,” you purr and step toward Sam to fist his flannel, “I allow you to massage my feet after you made me cum, Sammy.”
Your alphas smirk as you shimmy out of your panties and fling them across the room.
“Let’s test this nice swing…”
Your alphas helped you into the shamrock. Your men made sure that you were comfortable and felt safe. John asked you about your safe word and kissed you softly before using the leg and arm straps on you.
It feels like floating. “You look ready to get eaten, doll,” John whispers in your ear. He tweaks one of your nipples, causing you to shudder. “If you guess the cock right, you get a special gift after we are done with you.”
Dean kneels in front of the shamrock to teasingly run his tongue over your clit. He grips your legs tightly, enjoying you cannot close them when he playfully sinks his teeth into your clit.
“DEAN!” you grunt. He’s a teasing little shit, and you will pay him back. “I dare you!”
“How does she taste brother?” Sam watches his father and brother tease you with little licks and touches. “Dean?”
“She’s slicking for us, Sammy,” Dean growls against your flesh. “Y/N is such a good omega for us.”
You mewl at his words. Your chest swells and your body goes lax. “Daddy…”
“I’m here, doll,” John whispers in your ear. “Can we begin, baby doll?”
“Hmmm…” you nod.
“Do you remember your safe word, Y/N?”
“Papaya,” you murmur. “I’m all green, daddy.”
“Of course you are,” he replies and nods at his sons. “If you want us to stop, you will say it. Remember that you are the one in control.”
John’s features darken as he steps next to his sons. He cracks his neck and stares at your exposed body, ready for them to use you. You’re completely at their mercy, and his primal side loves it.
“Ready sons.”
“Ready if you are,” Dean and Sam say in unison.
“Yes…” you whisper lowly. “I want to play a game with all of you…”
You feel his hands on you seconds later. His touch is tender at first, but his hands get more demanding. He gropes your tits, roughly pinching your nipples. You know it’s Sam because he’s hiding the beast so well, but not with you.
“Fuck me,” you challenge. “Now!”
They don’t speak when they start using your body for their pleasure. It’s part of the game.
Sam is first. He’s rough, and demanding, but he pulls three orgasms out of your body.
You recognize Dean next. He takes his time to tease you, fingering you until you cry and beg him for an orgasm, but he will let you wait, and you’ll only find release with his cock inside of you.
John is last. He’s rougher tonight and calls you his whore, and slut. Your alpha was on the edge for weeks. One hunt had gone wrong, and he feared he’d lose another mate.
“Look at this, a whore to go,” John taunts you not only with his cock driving into you in abandon, but his voice making you shudder.
He’s unstoppable. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from your spent body. You’re sore and tired, your safe word on the top of your tongue but you don’t use it. John needs to get this out of his system, and you won’t stop him.
Even if it’s against your alphas’ rules.
In the morning, you wake to John fucking wildly into you. You’re usually more than happy if he slips inside of you while you’re asleep, but this morning is different.
You cry, and whimper. John grunts into your neck, believing you’re into it as you wiggle underneath him.
“John,” it pains you to do it, but you cannot take more, “Papaya.”
He stiffens and immediately slips out of you. “Doll,” he nuzzles you. “I’ve got you doll,” John whispers. “You did so well. We are proud of you.” He wraps his arms around you and cradles you in his arms. “I’m gonna get you clean and take care of you.”
John picks you up to carry you inside the bathroom. “I’m sorry, daddy. It was…too intense.”
“No. I’m sorry,” he pecks your hair. “I was a bad dominant today. I should’ve seen your distress and ended the session last night. It was too much, and…” He sniffs. “Please forgive me.”
“I’m fine, John,” you hide your face in his shoulder. “You’re good alphas.”
John isn’t convinced. He calls for his sons, asking them to help him with you. “We need to do more aftercare. It was too much.” He admits, ashamed.
“We’re here, sweetheart,” Dean whispers. “We will take care of you now…”
Tags in reblog.
#dean winchester#sam winchester#john winchester#spnomegaverseweek2024#a/b/o#smut#polyamory#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#john winchester x reader#Ready for harvest#tw: daddy kink
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📖Beta & Omega
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Bucky x ofc
Tags: period au-Edwardian era, a/b/o, heat cycles, nesting, pregnancy, post partum, breast feeding, body insecurities, sex toys, p in v sex, oral sex f!receiving, threesome, plural marriage, headship, arranged marriage
Summary: Nora's hit her heat. Since their alpha and headship is currently stuck in the Senate weathering a lengthy filibuster, it’s fallen to Bucky to take care of her needs.
Bucky takes the block of cheddar from the icebox and carries it to the kitchen counter by the front window. He’s cutting off a few slices of the cheese and adding it to the plate that he’s made up for Nora.
She’s hit her heat—her first since giving birth four months ago—and holed herself up in her selected nesting closet. Since their alpha and headship is currently stuck in the Senate weathering a lengthy filibuster, it’s fallen to Bucky to take care of her needs. He looks up from the fruit and cheese plate he’s prepared when he hears the loud rumble of an engine. A glance through the window to the street outside shows that a motor carriage has just pulled up to the curb. When the driver comes round, it’s Lady Whittemore who is helped from the car, sneer on her face as she makes sure to keep the hem of her dress out of the dirty street snow. Bucky sighs and glances down to himself. He’s still in his nightshirt—not exactly appropriate attire for greeting guests.
The house bell rings and just a moment later one of the servants is peeking her head into the kitchen. She blushes and averts her eyes when she sees how little Bucky is wearing. “Um, begging your pardon Sir. Lady Whittemore has come to call. Shall I show her to the front parlor?”
Bucky affords her a smile. “That’s fine Gertie. Tell her that the Lords and Lady Rogers aren’t entertaining visitors this afternoon but offer her some tea and to stay for as long as she likes.”
“Yes sir.” Gertrude steps into the kitchen and lays a few letters and a small parcel atop the kitchen island. “Today’s post,” she says.
“Thank you.”
Gertrude gives a small curtsy and spins back around to leave.
“Oh and Gertie? Gabe is having his nap upstairs. Keep an eye on him while I’m with his mother?”
She nods politely. “Course Sir.”
Bucky takes the plate and the package from the counter and goes to the servants’ hallway off the kitchen. There’s a small door in the wall which leads to a tiny thing of a room—Nora’s chosen nesting spot. There is of course a proper nesting closet upstairs, near the master bedrooms. It’s original to the house itself, finer than this tiny room off the servants’ hallway. But Nora had found the little nook tucked just off the kitchen and decided that this was where she’d have her babies, where she’d pass her heats. Bucky looks down at the tray of fruits and cheese that he holds and knocks on the door. Trust Nora to want to stick close by to the food.
A light, “Come in” is said, and Bucky turns the knob on the door. It opens to reveal the tiny room. Nora is curled up in a mound of blankets. Bucky can’t help but smile softly at her. “Hey doll.”
She holds out her arms. “C’mere.”
He stoops with the plate in hand to get through the small doorway of the nesting closet. The inside is dark, lit only by a single gas light on the wall. There are soft blankets and pillows everywhere—a true nest that Bucky knows his wife has worked very hard on. The closet smells of old wood and close bodies. It’s got Nora’s own vanilla scent, mingled along with his and Steve’s from times that all three of them have spent together in there. Bucky sees that Nora’s brought one of each of their unwashed nightshirts in with her to add to the smell, as well as one of Gabriel’s soft blankets. He smiles at that, convinced that she’d have drug their infant son himself in there if he wasn’t already napping upstairs. After these past four months, the entire Rogers’ household is very much aware that you never, ever wake a sleeping baby.
Bucky hands the plate to Nora, who immediately picks a few things off it to eat. He sets the parcel aside and runs a hand through her curls. “How are you feeling?” he asks. She’d only gone into heat the night before. Bucky had woken to an empty bed, finding her tucked away beneath the servants’ stairs early the next morning. He takes in her appearance now. She’s dressed only in her underthings, her hair left loose around her shoulders. She looks flushed—certainly dazed from the heat—but still beautiful. Bucky always thinks she looks beautiful. Especially like this. He takes a few grapes from the plate and eats them, waiting for her to tell him how she feels.
“Not too far gone,” she says, pushing the plate his way when she feels she’s had enough. “Is there any hope he’ll be home soon?” she asks.
They both know that she’s referring to Steve—their alpha, headship to their marriage. The man who, under normal circumstances, would be the one to soothe Nora through her heat. Bucky hates to disappoint her but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry sweetheart. No. It’s just us this time.” She hums and squirms further into the nest of blankets she’s created, hands flitting restlessly over her neck, chest and belly. She doesn’t seem aware of what she’s doing, but Bucky knows that she needs to be touched. The smell of unfulfilled arousal coming off her is heady. “Here,” he says, scooting up to sit behind her. He pulls her against his chest and hands her the package. “This came in the mail today. Why don’t you open it?”
She does, her small fingers making quick work of the brown paper and twine. Once she has it unwrapped, she holds the item in her hand as if she’s no idea what to do with it. “Oh,” she nearly whispers. “Bucky, is this…?”
“Mmhm.” Bucky murmurs. He presses his lips to her neck. “Given that Steve’s unavailable this time around, I thought it prudent to acquire one.”
Nora laughs and the sound is light as a bell—beautiful. She’s not at all embarrassed about the fact that Bucky’s just presented her with a false knot, and it makes him love her all the more. His girl never was one to shy away from the intimacies of married life. With the toy still in hand she twists her head around and kisses him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me doll.” He encourages her to lift her hips up and eases the delicate fabric of her drawers down her thighs. She kicks them the rest of the way off and spreads her thighs in the blankets.
“Oh Bucky,” she sighs, leaning back into his chest as he begins to touch her between her legs. “Mm, yes. Please.”
He chuckles into her skin, chin hooked over her shoulder to watch the way his hand parts her folds. He’s holding her still against him with his metal arm and uses the other to stimulate her. She’s already wet. He coats his fingers in her slick and glides the pad of his thumb over the hood of her clit. She shudders hard in his arms and he holds her all the more tightly. “Shhh, there’s a girl. Feels good doesn’t it?”
She makes a soft noise in her throat. “Uh huh.” Bucky continues thumbing her clit and presses two fingers into her, curling and rubbing them against her walls. She tenses even further, hips chasing the movement of his hand. “Ooh, Bucky. Oh fuuck.”
“You close already sweetheart?” He asks in a low murmur, his smile against her skin. She obviously is. During her heats Nora comes much more easily, for both him and Steve. Bucky loves it. “Come on,” he encourages her, working his hand a little faster. “Come for me. Come for your beta.”
She shudders and the orgasm spills out of her, a sweet and sudden thing. When it’s over he turns her around and pulls them down into the blankets, allowing her to lay atop him and catch her breath. “So pretty when you do that,” he tells her, kissing her cheek. Her skin is flushed. She looks healthy and pleased and it stirs a possessive feeling in his chest, makes him want to satisfy all her needs. “I’m jealous of him sometimes,” he says quietly after a while.
She peeks up his chest at him, surprised. “Of… of Steve? Why?”
Bucky shrugs and pushes a stray tendril of hair away from her face. “He’s our alpha. He’s your alpha. Sometimes I want so badly to take care of you during a heat, want to be the one you really need. But I know he’s the only one who can give you that.”
“No. Bucky… I need you too.”
He smiles sadly at her. “Not in the same way though. I’ll never be able to knot you, feel your body tied to mine. My scent will never soothe your fever the way his can. My voice will never command you the way his does. I wish I could do that. Wish I could do more.”
“Oh, no Bucky please. Don’t feel that way.” She pushes herself further up his body and takes his face in her hands. “I don’t need another alpha. I don’t want one.” She leans down and kisses him firmly on the mouth. When she pulls back she says, “You’re my beta and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Steve and I, we both need you between us. You calm me better than he ever can, and lord knows you communicate better than he can. In a lot of ways you even understand me better than he ever can. Steve and I… we both find it easier to come to you first about anything. You know that. We’re both closer to you than we are to each other. You’re the one who makes this marriage work. You bring us together.” She pets at his hair, a smirk curving her lips. “And you know I depend on you to keep me sane now that we have Gabe. Steve wouldn’t know what to do. Bucky, you’re my beta. I will always need you.”
Bucky smiles up at her. His omega, his wife, his Nora. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She bumps their noses together. “And since you’re my beta, and our alpha isn’t anywhere to be found, I’m counting on you to push all. my. buttons.” She pokes her finger three times up his chest, ending at his collar and snapping her teeth at him playfully.
He grabs her by the hips and flips her over in a flash, making her shriek. He hovers over her and eyes her wickedly. “All of them, huh?" Nora giggles madly and he moves down to suck her breasts through the lace of her top. “Like this one?”
She moans. “Ooo, mm. Yeah that’s one.”
He grins. His fingers find the edge of her camisole and ease it up to bare her breasts. They’re large and swollen still from nursing, beautiful and flushed just like the rest of her. Bucky lays a kiss to each of them before urging her to lift her arms for him. He removes the scrap of fabric and she’s finally naked, bared fully to him. He groans appreciatively as he looks his fill. “You will never know how beautiful you are,” he tells her, reverence in his voice. “So goddamned beautiful.”
He runs his hands all over her, feeling the curves of her body beneath his. When he reaches the soft skin of her belly she tenses and her hands fly down to land on top of his. Bucky frowns at the reaction, recognizing it for what it is. Ever since the birth of their son Nora’s been self-conscious about her body, and he absolutely hates it. Gently but firmly, he removes her hands from covering herself and brings them up to press them into the blankets by her head. “Don’t hide yourself from me, Omega.” he tells her lowly. “If there’s something I don’t want to be looking at I’ll let you know.” He moves back down with a purpose, gripping her hips harsher than before and kissing down the soft swell of her stomach. “Love your body Nor,” he says between kisses. “It gave us our son. It’s beautiful. Perfect. You’re such a beautiful mother.” If he could let her into his mind he would, to let her see what he sees.
Nora whimpers, obviously wanting to argue that point but unwilling to ignore Bucky’s command. She merely tosses her head in the blankets, muttering some complaint about how she can’t lace down within six inches of what she used to. Bucky rolls his eyes and continues kissing down her body. He’s almost got his mouth where it needs to be to get his wife to shut up about how well her stupid corsets fit.
The first flick of his tongue against her clit makes her cry out, hips rising instinctively. Bucky holds her down and moves in again, this time licking all along the cleft of her sex. She’s so incredibly wet, so eager for him. Her slick gets on his face and he chases it, fucking his tongue into her cunt slowly, pushing in as far as he can and listening to her pleasured groans from above. When he switches to sucking gentle pressure against her clit and pushes his fingers into her, her hands shoot down and grab onto his hair. Bucky grunts at the sting and keeps going. “Don’t stop!” she gasps, using her hold on his hair to keep him right where he is. “Oh please, Bucky! M’gonna come.” Her hips are moving in little circles, rubbing herself hard against his mouth and hands. Bucky hums against her, his way of telling her to get herself off. When she comes, her breath catches and she doesn’t make a sound again until she’s coming back down, her body going lax in the blankets. “Ohmygod,” she huffs, overwhelmed. “Oh my fucking god.”
Bucky chuckles at her dirty mouth. He pushes himself up and yanks his nightshirt over his head, abandoning it somewhere in the pillows. He crawls over her and blankets her with his naked heat, waiting patiently for her pretty brown eyes to open. When she’s looking at him again he gives her a kiss that tastes of her own juices. “Love making you feel good.” He rocks his hips gently against her, his erection a heavy weight along the crease of her thigh. “You want me inside of you?” he asks.
“Yes,” Nora breathes excitedly, her scent rising again even though she’s just come down from her second orgasm. She lifts her legs to wrap them around Bucky’s waist, pulling him nearer to her center. “Take me,” she sighs into Bucky’s ear, knowing exactly what words like that do to him.
Bucky shudders out his next breath in the effort to control himself. He could plunge inside and take her, rough and fast. God, that’s what he wants when he has her like this—soft and pliant and mewling underneath him, and heaven knows her body would accommodate him. Her slick cunt would part for him and swallow him without resistance. He could take her furiously and without care, satisfy that base animal need that he always has when Nora is near. Bucky’s mouth waters at the thought, but he grits his teeth and refuses it. That’s not what they’re here for. They’re here for Nora, his mate. Carding his fingers through her hair, he uses his metal hand to line himself up with her. She gasps and her pupils widen, and Bucky smirks. He drags his cockhead up and down her slit a few times, gathering her slick onto himself and teasing them both. When Nora’s hips give an impatient little thrust upwards, however, he loses the last of his control and presses into her in a hot, needy slide.
“Oh, Bucky.” Her hands find his back, running up and down the muscles there without coordination. Beneath, her hips are moving in steady, needy little thrusts, just barely moving his cock inside her and bumping her clit against his pubic bone. “Please,” she begs, voice reedy and light. “Please move Bucky. Fuck me.”
She sounds desperate and it’s music to Bucky’s ears. He growls lowly and holds her by her wrists again, pressing them into the blankets as he starts to move. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he murmurs as he fucks into her. “Gonna give it to you good.” Nora moans filthily at his talk and presses harder against his thrusts, moving with him as the blankets tangle around them and everything becomes sensation and sweat, hot breath and pleasured grunts passed between them.
Nora’s soft sounds grow into cries of pleasure—sharper and louder—until she’s arching up hard against him, fingernails painful against the skin of his back and her cunt grasping him in rhythmic pulls as she climaxes. “Holy—” Bucky cuts himself off as she trembles and collapses. He forces himself to breathe slow with her and to not come. Not yet. He knows his wife well, has spent more than a few heats with her and knows from experience that she’ll want to be fucked through at least one more orgasm before being knotted. Normally it’s Steve doing the knotting and at least half of the fucking, but this time Bucky will have to be the one to give her both. He’s not complaining. He can exercise a bit of self-control if it means he gets to watch her come apart so sweetly.
Nora’s chest rises and falls as she catches her breath. Her breasts are pressing up against him—two beautifully flushed swells just begging to be abused. Bucky can’t help himself; he sinks down to press his face into them, cupping them with his hands and sucking mouthfuls of the soft skin. He nips her once or twice, hoping that little bruises will form there. He thinks about Steve coming home and seeing the marks and realizing what he’s missed out on, and the thought puts a wicked smirk on Bucky’s face. His headship is also possessive of Nora—even more so than Bucky himself is. He can only imagine the tussle he and his husband might get into over their shared omega. Perhaps Steve will take him roughly, perhaps while Nora’s off in the nursery napping with the baby. Perhaps he’ll throw Bucky on the bed and push him face-down and reassert his rights as headship and… Bucky grunts in pleasure at the thought. It excites him, has him sucking harsher than he needs to at Nora’s nipples. She cries out and pushes against him and the tiniest bit of breastmilk leaks into Bucky’s mouth. He pulls back, taken-aback and frankly surprised at the sweet taste. His expression must be odd because Nora giggles at him.
He raises his eyebrow. “You laughing at me, doll?”
Nora bites her lip, nodding through her smirk. She looks wonderful, complexion rosy and flushed from her pleasure. Bucky is still hard as a rock and ready to give her more. Grinning down at her, he grabs her hips and flips her over onto her front, yanking her bum up and pressing himself inside her with no warning. Nora whimpers, the sudden intrusion making her scent soar. Bucky rumbles his approval of that from somewhere deep in his throat. He thrusts into her once, twice, rocking their bodies roughly to show her that he means to take her well and good this time. “That’s it omega,” he praises, running a hand down the center of her back. “So good for me. Gonna get you to come again.”
Nora groans pitifully at this, as if another climax will be some sort of hardship. But Bucky just moves his hips and shushes her with gentle words: Shhh, none of that angel, you know it’ll feel so good. Thrust. Want to watch you come apart. Thrust. Wanna hear it, wanna feel it. Thrust. He takes her steady and sweet, angling himself to rub inside her in the way he knows gets her off. Nora’s breath chokes off a little and her hands claw viciously in the blankets, and that’s how Bucky knows that she’s close. He is too, but he wants to make her fall apart first. He hunches over her, slips a hand around to rub fingers against her clit. “There you go,” he whispers against her skin. He kisses her shoulder blade and enjoys the increasingly loud cries that she gives him. Oh, he thinks, she is so close. “Come on,” he urges her, mimicking the controlling tone of Steve’s alpha voice. “I know you’re close baby. Let it go. Give it up to me.” Then, without warning, he gets his mouth on the back of her neck and bites down.
Nora goes absolutely rigid. “Ahhh!” Her cry is loud and long, dissolving into a desperate keen that makes Bucky’s toes curl in want. “Oooh fffuck,” she groans after long seconds pass. She goes boneless on the blankets, Bucky’s hands at her hips the only thing holding her up.
He watches her, completely mesmerized by the sight of his omega getting off so hard. Her pussy is still clenching down on him rhythmically. Once she’s clearly come down from it, he starts fucking her with a purpose. She squeaks at the sudden change in pace, but pretty soon her arousal is spiking again, and she starts encouraging him with pretty moans that fill up Bucky’s ears and urge him on. “So eager baby, you want to go again?” Nora sobs but it’s an affirmative sound—his girl wants more. “Don’t worry doll,” he grunts, hips moving furiously. “I know what you need. Gonna give you a knot.” Nora whimpers at this. “But you gotta make me come first,” he tells her. “Gonna get my load in you. Gonna fill you up so good.”
Nora cries out, whimpering, “Bucky, yes,” into the blankets. “Mm, want it. Please.” She’s fucking back against him with every thrust, eager and pliant. “Breed me,” she begs.
That’s it, that’s what puts him right there. With utterly possessive thoughts of fucking his mate so good and deep that he puts a litter in her running through his mind, Bucky feels his balls draw up tight. “Fuck,” he hisses, babbling at her in the way he often does when he’s this worked up: So close baby. Yeah, just like that. Fuck back on me, Fucking… Yesss. Oh, ugh, gonna make me come Nor. Oh! He comes, body spasming as he releases into her with uncoordinated thrusts. His fingers are holding her tighter than ever, and as he comes down from the high he realizes that she’ll likely have bruises from it. It’s hard for him to bring himself to care.
They collapse to their sides, Bucky bringing her back to spoon against his body. For a moment or two there’s no sound but that of their harsh breathing. Bucky feels her relax but can smell her scent ramping up again. Her body tries to clench down on him but he’s gone soft and he slides out. Nora whimpers, displeased at having nothing inside of her. “Shhh,” he soothes, reaching around blindly until he finds the knot. He knees her legs apart and brings it to her sex, rubbing the toy over her soaked lips to get it wet.
After a moment too long of this Nora growls at him, “Give it!”
But Bucky just uses his free hand to grab her by the back of her neck and force her face down into the blankets. “Be still,” he hisses, rubbing the knot more insistently until he feels her body start to part for it. “You’re going to get it.”
She whimpers and whines as he forces the knot in, filling her up the way that he knows she’s been craving since she opened that package and saw what was inside. Bucky inflates the toy to make it grow bigger inside her. Nora wails, thrashing without a thought, but it’s fine because she has Bucky there to hold her down, and he does. When the knot’s fully blown he abandons it to the clasp of her body and practically blankets her with himself. She’s trembling from the sensation of being filled so completely, and even though he’s spent, Bucky does her the favor of moving his hips against her to add to the illusion that she’s still being fucked. He soaks up her pleasured cries, imagining how good this must feel to her.
“Bucky,” she whines, still wiggling beneath his hold. “Beta. Help me.”
Bucky slips his metal hand around her body and presses his palm above her clit, rubbing down firmly enough that he knows it’s bound to set her off. It does, and she sobs yet again as her orgasm crashes over her. Bucky holds her through it, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and petting her sweaty skin. He has no indication that her body’s locked onto the knot other than the fact that it doesn’t slip out of her. It won’t for a good while, he knows. If it were Steve here now they’d be stuck, tied together until the knot went down and Nora’s body let up, and Bucky would be responsible to take care of them. Usually that just amounts to getting one or both of them water to drink, but he’s glad for now to stay laying behind Nora, simply comforting her as she calms down.
After long moments she quiets completely, and Bucky assumes she’s asleep. So it comes as a bit of a surprise when she suddenly says, “See if the servants left towels?” He untangles himself from her and crawls to the door. Sure enough, just outside is a bowl of steaming towels. He pulls it inside and shuts the door. Nora smiles sleepily when she sees the bowl. “Yesss,” she purrs, and Bucky laughs.
“Here you go.” He unrolls one of the dampened towels, patting it between his hands until it’s not quite so hot, then brings it to her body and drapes it over her shoulder blades. She moans as if he’s done something particularly erotic to her, and he chuckles again. He takes another towel and begins wiping all over her skin. “Feel good?” he asks.
“Mmhm.” She’s purring contentedly, and he takes a moment to admire her—his sated omega. The sight of her like this makes something warm and happy settle in his chest. It’s love, that much he knows already, but it’s also satisfaction at having given her everything she needs. At having taken care of her.
When he’s gotten her cleaned he lays down again and pulls one of the blankets over them, arms wrapped around her middle until she’s ready to move. It’s as they’re lying there together, tucked away in their quiet corner of the house, that she whispers to him, “Um, what I said about you breeding me… I—”
Bucky shushes her, not wanting her to worry about what she’d said in the heat of the moment. “Don’t worry doll, I know we can’t yet.” Her heats may have returned, but both he and Steve know that she won’t be fertile again until she’s done breastfeeding with Gabe. They’ve got awhile yet to go with that, and even if they didn’t, Bucky knows he wouldn’t pressure his mate into having another baby so soon. Satisfying her through this heat had been simply that—satisfying it. But he has fantasized about knocking her up again. Ever since Gabe was born and it became clear that Steve was the father, he’s known that he wants to have one of his own with her. Bucky is grateful that he has a husband who will allow such a thing—many more conservative headships would not. He tells Nora, “I know you were just getting carried away with yourself, you know?”
“Mm,” she hums, snuggling back against him. “But what if I really wanted to?”
“What do you mean?” He tucks some of her messy hair out of the way and kisses her ear. “You want to have another baby?”
“Yeah,” she says. “…Um, and I want to… with you.”
Bucky’s heart leaps, and he holds her that much closer. “Yeah? Want to try with me next?”
Nora nods and turns in his arms so that she can face him. Her brown eyes are huge and beautiful. “I want that so much Bucky. Want to make a baby with you.” She leans in and presses her mouth to his, kissing him tenderly. Bucky groans into it, not so much at the kiss but at her words. When she pulls back she says, “So can we?”
He laughs. As if she even has to ask. “Of course,” he says. “If it’s what you want.” She nods again in encouragement. “But you know,” he says, “My, uh, seed is less likely to … I mean if we do try it’s far more likely that Steve’ll be the one to—”
She cuts him off with another kiss and a sly look when she pulls back. “Well then we’ll just have to kick him out of our bed, won’t we? Make him watch for a few months until you knock me up.”
Bucky laughs, amused by how she makes that sound like some sort of fun game. “Okay Nor, sounds like a good plan. You can be the one to tell Steve that that’s what we’re doing.”
She grunts, but doesn’t seem like she’s changed her mind. “Just you wait,” she says, pausing to give a long yawn. “I’ll tell ‘im.” They settle back down, both with thoughts of a growing family running through their minds. Bucky pets Nora’s side as she falls asleep and imagines another baby up there in the nursery with a toddler-aged Gabe. He imagines what the little versions of he and Steve would look like, running around and playing together. The idea makes him feel warm and happy inside. He decides that he really will have to have a talk with Steve when he returns, because having his alpha and his omega and a house full of children really doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea. In fact, it seems like the best one.
Masterlist
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#m/f/m#polyamory#husband wife#Bucky x ofc#Bucky x reader#Bucky x you#mcu#marvel#fanfiction#edwardian#victorian#period au#history au#arranged marriage#gilded age#edwardian era#victorian era#corsets#a/b/o#worldbuilding#stucky#steve x bucky#steve rogers#bucky barnes#original character#steve rogers x ofc x bucky barnes#historical fiction#heat#in heat#pregnancy
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Learning to Heal - Chapter 1
Alpha Bakugo x Alpha Kirishima x Beta Todoroki x Omega Izuku (It's a polycule because why tf not)
Summary: Izuku is not like the other omegas at the Omegan Sale Facility. He was raised to be the ‘perfect omega’, the obedient alpha fantasy. His whole life he was taught to put his wants last, to listen to an alpha no matter what. When he’s of age he’s sold to an Omegean Sale Facility, others were kidnapped to be trained and broken into the ‘perfect omega’, to be auctioned off to the highest bidding alpha. He’s been brainwashed and manipulated his whole life to believe this is what he wants. That by doing so he’s fulfilling his duties as a good omega should.
However, when pro heroes take down the omega trafficking ring and Izuku realizes that he was lied to his whole life. He has to unlearn everything he was taught and listen to his inner omega. With the help of the pack of pros that made his freedom possible Izuku has a lot to learn.
I wake up to the alarm, as always. I make my way to the shared bathrooms and begin my morning hygiene routine, as always. The rules at this Omegan Sale Facility are strict but simple.
Rule 1: Hygiene and maintaining my appearance is my priority. That means I brush my teeth twice a day; eat only the food given to me during mealtime; I must participate in active time; shower every day; shave every week at least; and do my skin care every morning and night. My body and looks are the commodity, I am the facility’s property. The better I look, the more money I bring in.
Rule 2: I will obey any and every order. My will and my wants do not matter. No matter what the guards and trainers tell me to do, I must do it. My omegean instincts are second to the will of those above me. I do not know what is best for myself, only an alpha knows what an omega wants and needs.
Rule 3: By completing the obedience and alpha care training I will be added to the roster of the next auction and sold to the highest bidder. That alpha will be my new owner. That’s the goal. To be an alpha’s plaything, a mindless, obedient, omega. That’s how omegas were intended to be, after all, and the facility helps keep omegas in order. The facility shows us our place in the world, some take longer to accept it than others. But in the end every omega brought here succumbs to the natural order of things.
It’s only three rules! It’s far simpler than I had imagined it would be. Some omegas here were taken off the streets, targeted for their looks and/or scents. While others had no choice than to give themselves over because of a large amount of debt. I do not fall into either of those categories. I am one of the very few omegas specially trained since birth to be the perfect omega. The rules of the facility have been taught to me since birth, I knew my place from a very early age.
The second I was eligible, my original trainers sold me to this facility. Omegas like me are highly sought after, an omega who knows nothing but obedience. I passed my obedience and alpha care training faster than any other omega. I did not need to be broken in, like the newer omegas. As there was no learning curve for me. I did not need to be punished in order to follow my rules, they had been drilled into me my whole life. This is what I’m meant to do.
After I do my skin care, I and the other omegas line up at the bathroom door and are escorted by some guards to the dining hall. I eat some oatmeal and have some water and wait patiently for the guards to signal that breakfast is complete. After this I would usually be brought to training. Where we practice a variety of useful omegean skills.
Like being able to stay in a cage for hours on end; remaining in a room blindfolded with noise canceling headphones for as long as the trainers wish; learning the correct way to respond to an alpha; practicing pleasing an alpha sexually, learning all the correct positions and techniques; and not speaking unless I am allowed to do so. All very necessary in order to make an alpha happy and be a good omega for them.
But training is not on my schedule for today. I, and six other omegas, have completed our training and are scheduled to be auctioned off tonight. And, from what I understand, there will be some important alphas in attendance tonight. Tonight, all my training pays off, tonight I get what I’ve been working for my entire life. I get to belong to an alpha. And maybe, maybe if they like me enough, they might mate and mark me. To be pupped by an alpha is the highest honor an alpha can give to an omega. If everything goes to plan tonight, I can finally put all of my skills into practice and make myself useful!
On my auction day most of the day is spent in my room. I read some of the books I received as a reward for my obedience. Reading is pretty much the only thing the facility allows obedient omegas to do in their free time, which is rare to have. I am grateful to them for allowing me such a privilege and I always enjoy reading the books I’m allowed.
Around 5 pm I am escorted down a long hallway and to a door labeled ‘Dressing Room’. The guard opens the door and I walk in, with my head down in respect, inside the room are two trainers. This is where I will be dressed and prepared for my auction.
“Undress, omega, let us see what we have to work with.” One of the trainers' orders. I take off my shorts and tank top and neatly fold them, setting them on the table in front of me, as instructed. Panties are a privilege omegas are not entitled to. Our owner will decide what they deem is appropriate for us to wear underneath our clothes, if anything.
I stand still as the trainers take in my naked body and watch as they go to the racks of clothes and lingerie, deciding what will suit my body best.
“He’s definitely gonna bring in the highest auction tonight. We decided to put you on last, Izuku, we wanted to end this auction with a bang. The prettiest little omega that all the alphas out there have been waiting for. They can barely sit still,” The tallest and most muscular trainer says as he begins to dress me in the outfit they picked out, a dark green lace bodysuit that has sheer flower embroidery on it and shows off my thighs and butt perfectly. I look up into the mirror before me and see myself in the prettiest outfit I have ever been allowed. I feel tears come to my eyes as I look at myself. I want to remember how my future owner will first see me. Tonight is the night I will meet the alpha that I have been dreaming about my whole life, my owner.
“Look at him. Someone’s definitely gonna wreck him tonight.” The other, slimmer trainer says to the first trainer as she puts a touch of makeup on me. Just some mascara and lipgloss. “Those freckles of his are so precious.”
The trainers step back, motioning for me to spin and nod to each other.
“Perfe-” Before the muscular trainer can finish his thought, a siren blares. The emergency siren indicates someone has infiltrated the facility, an attack of some sort. This hasn’t happened before, not since I’ve been here. I start to panic and look at the two guards.
“Goddamnit. Ben probably set it off again,” The lady trainer says as she looks at the other trainer.
“He’s a fucking idiot.” he responds, and his attention turns to me, “Stay in here until we get back. You are not to move a single muscle while we’re gone. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes sir.” I say as they leave the dressing room.
And suddenly I’m alone. Of course something would go wrong on my auction day. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy for me. I should’ve expected something like this. I whine to myself as I wait for this mess to be over. My auction will probably be rescheduled for next week, there’s no way any of the buyers will stick around tonight if they expect a raid or attack, even if it is a false alarm.
I keep still, like the obedient omega I am. Patiently waiting for the trainers to return, I feel myself growing more anxious as time passes. The alarm keeps blaring then, suddenly, I hear an explosion and yelling over the alarm. My heart stops. I hadn’t, even for a second, expected this to be a real attack. An inconvenience at most, a mistake. But an attack? An attack is not something I had ever anticipated.
I look around the room, weighing my options. Eventually, I decide hiding is my best option. I go behind the clothing rack, sit in the corner and pull my knees to my chest as I try to make as little noise as possible. I have no idea what will happen after this. But I can’t think about that right now, I just have to stay safe. I have to stay hidden.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, I’m not sure when I can get out of here. Where would I even go? I don’t know where anything is. Eventually the alarm quiets down but I don’t move. I wait for the trainers to come and get me. I can hear people walking around, which I’m going to assume is a good sign. Maybe everything’s gonna be ok after all. Maybe it was just a false alarm and I was panicking over nothing.
Then, I hear voices, “Yeah, I’ll clear this hall! Shitty hair you take the northern one! I’ll radio if I find anybody.” The voice in the hall says. His voice is low and gravely, not a voice I’ve heard before. That’s not a good sign. None of this is. My life is over.
It’s only a matter of time until I’m discovered. This is one thing I was not trained for. This is the one thing I’ve never planned for. I’ll probably be held prisoner or sold to another alpha, which wouldn’t be so bad. But what if their intention is to hurt me or worse? Maybe it’s someone trying to get revenge on the facility- I need to stop. Spiraling like this won’t help. Right now, all I can do is hide and keep myself safe.
Then, the door of the dressing room opens and my breath hitches, they won’t see me. They won’t see me. They can’t see me. I hold my breath and close my eyes hoping they just skim over the room and do not notice me.
They stomp through the room and just when I think they’re gone I hear, “Riot, I’ve got another one.” It’s the gravelly voice from the hall. I cover my ears and shake my head as I feel it becoming harder to breathe. I force my eyes closed, he can’t be talking about me, he’s talking about someone else. I feel myself start to cry; this wasn’t how today was supposed to go.
Then I realize I can smell him giving off a calming scent, he’s definitely an alpha all right. His scent smells like smoke and caramel. I’m not used to being able to smell an alpha, all the trainers and guards here wear scent patches. And, somehow, I can feel myself actually start to breathe deeper again, his scent is actually calming me down, though I hate to admit it. I didn’t know an alphas scent could have such a strong effect on my omega.
I uncover my ears and finally open my eyes, crouching in front of me is a blonde haired, sweaty alpha wearing some sort of hero costume, he must be a pro hero. But that doesn’t make sense. Why would they attack the facility? They’re supposed to stop crime- Oh! He’s probably here to help with the attack that happened. Of course. That makes sense. I start to take deep breaths and look up at him. He’s just staring at me, I can smell worry on him.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” He says, in a voice far softer than the growl he had earlier, he stands up. I keep looking at him, somewhat skeptical given the current situation. Is he a pro or a villain or maybe someone disguised as a pro? Even though I’m not fully convinced, he is the alpha here and I must listen to him.
He puts his hand out to try and help me up and, against my better judgment, I take it. As I stand and see his eyes widen and a faint blush covers his cheeks. I look down, suddenly remembering the outfit I’m wearing and feeling self-conscious and exposed. He pulls off the black jacket with an orange X down the center of it and holds it out for me.
I look up at him, confused. “For you to… um, cover up a bit?” I stare at him and then at the jacket that reeks of him. It’s covered in soot and sweat but at the same time it looks comfortable? I’m not liking the way the omega side of me is reacting to him. I can’t accept this. More importantly, why has he offered it to me? It’s his jacke- my brain short circuits when I finally register that this alpha is now standing before me in a black tank top. A black tank top that hugs his very apparent abs and shows off his extremely muscular and mouth watering build.
“Are you gonna take it or just keep staring?” He questions, catching me stare at him. I take the jacket and pull it over the lingerie. It looks way bigger on me than it did on him. The sleeves are too long on me and it falls down to my mid thighs. So I am pretty much covered.
“I know this is all shocking. You probably have a lot of questions, but right now I need to get you out of here.” I look into his red eyes as he talks to me, taking in the alpha before me. He’s unlike any alpha I’ve ever seen or interacted with. He’s far bigger than any alpha I’ve ever seen. All the alpha trainers and guards here pale in comparison to the sheer domination his alpha seems to command.
He opens the door and I hear the ground crunch as his black boots step into the hall. I move to the doorway and see the floor is covered in broken glass and some pieces of the wall that have been broken, forming a huge hole in the side of the facility. Debris and rocks cake the floor before me and I look up at the alpha who sighs and looks back at me, clearly frustrated that I haven't followed him.
Before he can say anything, I motion to my bare feet, his eyes widen and he nods slightly in understanding. “Shit, right, I’m going to have to carry you out of here, is that okay?” He asks, looking at me, clearly trying to read whether I’ll have another panic attack over this or not. I nod.
He swoops me up into his arms, bridal style may I add, and pulls me close to his chest as he carries me. I find my anxiety decreasing and for the first time since the alarm went off I actually feel safe. Maybe it’s the alphas relaxing scent, maybe it’s the way he stood by me as I cried and soothed me with his scent, not touching me or pushing me, the way he asked for permission to touch me, as if he actually cares about what an omega wants. This is not how I thought alphas acted. Not at all. But something about this seems to soothe my inner omega as he walks out of the rubble and through the broken hole in the wall and to a parking lot full of omegas, ambulances, police, and other people I’m assuming are pro heroes.
I don’t see any of the trainers or guards. He sets me down on the pavement, and goes back inside the building, as he leaves, so does that feeling of calmness and safety. I am now hyperaware of the fact that I am surrounded by police officers yelling and pointing, omegas crying and seemingly happy, sirens blaring. It’s too much. It’s all too much. I can feel myself begin to breathe faster, heart rate increasing, the fear inside me growing.
An officer rushes me into an ambulance and tells me I’m safe now. That they can’t hurt me anymore. But that doesn’t give me any relief. Safe from what? I was safe! They are the ones taking me away from the facility, from my life, and not giving me any answers!
Is taking me away and leaving me in the dark their version of ‘saving’ me! Before I realize it’s happening, I begin to scream and fight the officer in the ambulance, trying to reach the handle and get out of here. The cop says something, screams something, he’s trying to calm me down, I cry and I feel him grab my arm tightly and try and force me back into submission, but I kick and scream and I bite him. I bit him. Another person grabs me from behind and I feel a sharp pain in my neck and everything goes black.
Here's the AO3 link for the full fic:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48611197/chapters/122617891
#ao3#bakugou katsuki#bakugo x izuku#bakudeku#bakugo x kirishima#kiribaku#izuku x shoto#polyamory#smut#mha#a/b/o verse#alpha bakugou#omega izuku#alpha kirishima#beta todoroki#fluff and angst#hurt/comfort#gay men
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BTS Mafia Soulmate/Omegaverse Au Chapter one
PAIRINGS: BTS X CHUBBY READER, WRITER X?
WARNINGS: ABUSE, PARENTS HATING, BEING SOLD, PARENT’S HATES OMEGA’S, ETC.
CHILDHOOD
Y/N was the daughter of a Businessman and Businesswoman named Choi James, and Choi Sakura is half Korean and half Filipino. Her father worked for one of the top businesses in South Korea, NJM Enterprises. His work pertains to being the face of the Ceo when the actual Ceo can't make it, so that means seeing through meetings and deals with other businesses that want to work with them. While her mother works for one of the top Fashion Companies in South Korea as a secretary, her parents are both Alpha's, strict and proud. When they found out they were pregnant at the top of their games, they weren't thrilled with the news.
They decided to abort it since they didn't want a child, but on the way to an Abortion Clinic, their family found out and were angry and disappointed in them for trying to kill an innocent child. So, to keep an eye on the soon-to-be parents, the family decided to move in with them until the child was 7 yr. Old. The couple came to love the child and decided to keep the gender of the child as a surprise and were hoping for a boy. When Y/n was born, they were disappointed that it was a girl and not a boy and was going to leave her at the hospital, but when it was time for Y/n's mother to leave the hospital, their family came with Y/n's father, so they couldn't really abandon the baby at the hospital. During the first few months after the birth, Y/n's parents acted like they loved and cared for her needs.
Three years later, Y/n is ready to start Pre-K. Her parents were busy, so her grandparents from both sides of her family decided to bring her to school. There she met one of the boys, Jungkook, in her class, and they became fast friends during school. When it was time to go home, they were both crying because they didn't want to leave, thinking they'll never see each other again. To Jungkook's parent's and to Y/n's grandparent's surprise cause with Jungkook, he was a shy little bunny to new people, and for Y/n, it's just been her family and the maids and butlers in the house they're leaving in, so it was understandable that Y/n didn't want to leave her newfound friend.
Her grandmother Jane and Beth crouched to their knees in front of the crying kids and smiled at them, calming them down. Grandmother Jane suggested that why don't they have a play date this weekend and maybe in the future, some more playdates will happen. Jungkook parents would bring Jungkook and his brothers over to Y/n's house and pick them up the next afternoon. The boys would pick up Y/n at her place, walk to school together and, after school, hang out at the arcade or study at the library after school. It took a while for Jungkook's brothers Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung to become Y/n's friends, but eventually, they did become friends.
Y/n parents hated the boys coming over to their place because they had to act like Y/n parents, which they totally despised, plus anything Y/n really loved, they wanted to rip it apart since she ruined their lives as a girl instead of a boy. They were delighted and proud that Y/N wouldn't see anyone again and that they wouldn't have to act like a loving family. Y/n's father got a call from his boss on the day saying they needed him to become CEO of the new company branch in California, the USA, at Y/n's 7th birthday party and the last time Y/n ever had a happy memory and childhood.
After the birthday party and their family leaving, a.k.a moving out since it was agreed that once Y/n was 7yrs old that they would be moving out. They hurriedly packed everything up, ensuring nothing like passports and important documents was left behind. Y/n was wondering what was going on and asked her parents. When they said they were moving away to the USA.Y/n started to cry and say that she didn't want to go and leave everything behind, plus her friends and family were there. What happened next shocked her since her parents had never hit her before. Her father walked up and slapped her across the face, hitting her head on the table next to her. Y/n cried even harder, making her mother annoyed at her crying and kicking her in the stomach a couple times to make Y/n shut up, which she finally did from the pain. They just left her there while finishing packing and booking the flights; they got 3 three first-class seats. Once done packing everything, Y/n's mother bent down to wake up Y/n since they had to act like loving parents heading to the airport.
Once at the airport, they went to check in and get something to eat while waiting for their flight. When it was time to board, Y/n's mother told her to be quiet and behave with a glare sent toward her Y/n gave a slight nod to her parents while following right behind them towards the entrance to the airplane. Y/n looked at her parents while eating her dinner and her parents talking about what they were going to do once they landed. Y/n was hoping that what her parents did to her was a nightmare, but somewhere in her subconscious, she was telling her that it wasn't a nightmare and that she just didn't want to believe it.
After a long flight, they finally landed in the USA but in California. They headed out of the airplane toward inside the airport to check in and check in their immigrant paperwork, saying they were staying here indefinitely. Once everything was checkout and approved, Y/n's father called one of their drivers to come and pick them up from the airport. At the house, the car stopped at the main entrance Y/n plus her parents got out of the car and went inside. While the maid and butlers grabbed their bags, putting them in their rooms.
While looking around the house, she'll be calling home. They walked down the hallway on the second floor and showed Y/n her room. Y/n looked around her room and smiled at her mother. Her room looked like you were somewhere else. Y/n's mother told her that this could be taken away if you don't behave and stay silent whenever we had a guest over or at a party; simply, you don't exist here in this house; you get to keep this room. If not, it's the ecky moldy, smelly basement for you, harsh punishments, and telling her that she will be homeschooled.
Y/n couldn't believe her mother was telling her. Her mother left the room, leaving her to cry silently instead of comforting her. Now she knew what happened in their old place was real instead of comforting her. She learned fast during the first few weeks living in the house that her parents weren't joking and went on with their lives like they didn't have a daughter to take care of since they had hired a nanny for her to watch over her and teach her what she needs to know since she wasn't allowed to go to school.
This was her life for the next 8 years of her life. During those time, she found out that her parents didn't want kids but started to love the child and hoped for a boy, only for it to turn out to be a girl, so while their parents were living with them, they acted like they loved you when in reality they hated your guts and wished you were dead. You found out the truth when you came downstairs, forgetting that her parents had a guest over and were punished harshly for it. Y/n had scars on her back to prove it.
Before Y/n turned 15, her parents decided to throw a party to introduce her as their daughter since that's when her second gender would come out. Knowing that Y/n was definitely going to be an Alpha, they didn't realize that Y/n had been showing some Omega traits for the last two years. Since they've ignored her existence, they would surely be shocked at the party. It took a whole month to prepare the party for Y/n's 15'th birthday and Second Gender coming out party.
Y/n knew about the party but was anxious because she knew she would disappoint her parents as she has always done. Hopefully, not though her subconscious was saying that she was an omega, but was praying that her subconscious was wrong and that her second gender is an Alpha, not an Omega, cause that would give her parents more reason to hate getting rid of her. Y/n's parents never hid their hatred for Omega whenever they took Y/n out to dinner for being a good girl. They went to an Omega-owned restaurant and complained about everything about the restaurant and who owns the restaurant, saying that an Omega shouldn't be allowed to own businesses. They should be just breeders and have dirty jobs.
The day of the party arrived, and Y/n was nervous since the time of the party was when her second gender would come out and after she was introduced too. Y/n could hear the party going downstairs while one of the maids helped her get ready with the dress and jewelry that her mother bought for her to wear today. After an hour of getting ready, she had to come downstairs. For her parents to introduce her to their friends and their friend's family.
Y/n came downstairs like a lady taught to her by her nanny, and once on the main floor, she bowed and greeted everyone by saying her name and thanked everyone for coming. When it was time for her second gender to come out, Y/n felt great pain in her whole body, but it only lasted a few minutes. Everyone was shocked, but not like her parents, who were furious and were hiding so well with fake smiles on their faces. They approached Y/n and gave her a slight hug and kiss saying how proud they were even though she was an Omega, but Y/n knew better and knew that her parents were faking it, only acting like they were alright with it since they didn't want to ruin their reputation.
Once the party was over and everyone had left, Y/n 's father called his friend from the underground name Mr. Alex since he took a liking to Y/n and sold her to him for a favor in the future. One of Mr. Alex's men came to pick her up the next day Y/n knew that this was going to happen, but it still hurt that her parents would sell her since she's an Omega instead of an Alpha. She hoped her life would be a little bit better than now, but she didn't know that she was entering HELL and that Y/n's ex-father had sold her to the DEVIL.
#bts mafia au#bts soulmate au#bts x chubby reader#ot7 bts x reader#bts chubby reader#bts-ot7-x-reader#alphabtsxomegareader#bts x reader#bts#bts fanfic#bts a/b/o#bts poly!au#bts polyamory au#bts omegaverse au
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for a further union
Rated T
Alexei / Aleksander / Alina
Duke Alexei, Aleksander's partner, visits the cartographers in Kribirsk and finds something unexpected. Or more precisely, someone.
(An Alexei/Aleksander/Alina marriage of convenience A/B/O fic)
Written for @jammerific for the @darklinaserver Secret Sankta Exchange.
Moodboard by me.
Read on AO3.
#shadow and bone#my fic#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#polyamory#alexei x aleksander x alina#alina starkov#aleksander morozova#alexei stepanov#alexei/aleksander/alina#shadow and bone fanfic#marriage of convenience
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Hello! I really loved reading about your poly headcanons for abo dynamics! 😊 quick question regarding an omega with 2 alphas - would the alphas not be able to bite the neck of the omega if they were to be in a poly setup? Assuming if one of them did, the omega will only go into heat for the alpha that bit them.
Thank you again and love your blog! ^^
I know that like, we creator blogs and fanfic writers are kind of a source of information when it comes to A/B/O, but I would just like to remind everyone that things aren't set in stone when it comes to Omegaverse.
Cause like you said it with such conviction "Assuming if one of them did, the Omega will only go into heat for the Alpha that bit them". Says who? That may be one interpretation of how things work in a certain person's (or group of people's) verse, but it's by no means a rule.
If you so choose it can work exactly as you may be thinking of. Which is: Just have each alpha bite one side of their neck. Problem solved.
And your question also assumes that an Omega's heat is tied to a bite, specifically from an Alpha. Again, this is one way of setting things, but by no means the only one.
Heats can be tied to puberty, hormones, scent triggers, the weather and seasons, the alignment of the stars, magic even. There's no one reason why an Omega goes into heat, because each verse has their own interpretation of what an Omega is and what their physiology is like.
If the verse you're working with, in this exemple, an Omega only can go into heat after the bite of an Alpha specifically, I would still struggle to see why their bodies only respond to one bite. But if it's tied to soul mating or life bonding then I could make an argument for it.
And there's a practical solution for that case too: Don't have neither of them Alphas bite the Omega in the first place. Live as a happy unmarked thruple. Stick it to the man hahahahaha.
All of this is to say, as I always say: Ain't there no concrete rules, Omegaverse is a phantom premise. Do as you wish an be jolly.
I hope this helped clear things up. Thank you so much for your love and support 💜💜.
#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#alpha/beta/omega verse#a/b/o verse#pack-the-pack answers#anon ask#thruple#poly relationship#polyamory#polyamourous#poly
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The Sun ☀️, the moon 🌙 & the stars ✨
Chapter 12: the sun doesn’t shine as bright.
Pairing: alpha!steve Rogers x alpha!sam Wilson x alpha!bucky Barnes x omega!reader
Word count: 2.2k
Warning: mentions of smut, implied smut, implied oral m/f receiving, little bit of angst, some fluff, poly relationship,
A/N: so something that I always see in stucky x Sam series is that Bucky and Steve’s trauma is always addressed or mentioned but we never really see that for Sam. We’re going to take a look at that a bit here and the little ways stucky x reader help Sam!
Series Masterlist
“Focus.”
“I am focusing.” You shoot back at Bucky.
You really weren’t. Not when he was standing in front of you with no shirt on, some slutty shorts and sweaty. You couldn’t help but watch the way his abs, chest and arm flexed as he moved.
“Yeah, my eyes are up here, darling.”
You rolled your eyes before looking up at him. A mischievous glint in your eye and smile to match.
“I’m paying attention now, alpha.” You call him by his destination which always gets him riled up.
“Behave omega. You have to be able to defend yourself. I know Steve gave you a lesson or two but I want to make sure you can really protect yourself if we’re not around.” He was serious but there was also a bit of pleading in his voice.
“Ok, I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Now, if you do a good job you’ll get a reward.”
“What am I 5?” You quip.
Bucky walked up to you, crowding your space. His face was unreadable and then he leaned down and whispered all the filthy things he’d do to you if you got the next move right.
“Oh.” You felt heat rush to your face and slick ruin your underwear. “Ok.”
Bucky smirked before he stepped back.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
He moved towards you, faster than you anticipated but you ducked under his arm and then kicked his ribs.
“Good. Next time, hit harder.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Bucky chuckled. “You won’t be able to hurt me, darling.”
“Fine. I’ll hit you harder.”
Bucky lunged forward even quicker than last time. Again you ducked under his arms and put some real force behind your kick. He stumbled and sucked in air sharply.
“Ok, maybe you can hurt me. That was a damn good kick.” He says proudly.
“I’ve been working on my kicks with Sam.”
“You know what this means right?”
“What?”
“It’s time you get your reward.” Bucky says as he walks to you and then tosses you over his shoulder. You can only laugh as he carries you out of the gym.
Since your heat and their ruts the four of you have been insatiable and inseparable. You loved to be on your knees for Sam. In between his thick thighs and bringing him pleasure with your mouth. He was breathtakingly beautiful as he moaned your name. Bucky loved to eat you out anywhere he seemed fit. He’d lay you down on the table and have you legs over his shoulders. It didn’t surprise your other mates anymore, they just joined in. If it wasn’t at the table, Bucky would pull you into whichever room was the closest and he’d have his way with you there. Steve loved to bend you over any surface and take you. If it wasn’t that he was pinning you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you. It didn’t matter where or when, they had to have you and you didn’t mind one bit. The others in the tower did and they limited your access to certain floors to avoid any accidental discoveries of you and your alphas in compromising positions.
You didn’t care though. The whole situation made you realize how much they had been holding back just because you were there. Now though it didn’t matter you were happy and so were they.
Things couldn’t be better.
“So How are things going with you?” You asked Bruce as he handed you a pillow.
“Everything’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Yeah, work keeps me busy. We’ve been able to add a lot more information to the people with no designation thanks to you.”
“A certain alpha is trying to court him.” Wanda adds from her side of the living room.
“Oh, who’s courting you?”
“Natasha. But Bruce here is being stubborn.”
“But she’s so hot.” Jules says as she lays down a blanket. “If I weren’t with Ricky, I’d totally let her court me.” She giggles.
“Same.”
“Me too.”
You and Wanda say at the same time.
“Male omegas are just more hard headed when it comes to courtships with a female alpha. They’ve been told all their life that men should only be alphas and women should only be omegas. It’s bullshit.” Jules ranted as you continued to turn the living room into a giant nest. One that would fit the whole team plus a guest or two.
“I say you take it slow and see where it goes.”
“Hulk likes Nat, she’s the only one that can calm him down.”
“Really?” You turn to look at Wanda.
“Yeah, she even has this cute little lullaby she sings for him.”
“Ok that’s enough about me. Jules is right. Being a male omega isn’t easy, it didn’t help that my father was absolutely disappointed and disgusted when I presented.” Bruce admits.
“Oh, Brucey!”
“I think this calls for a group hug.” Jules announces.
The three of you are on Bruce before he can protest. All he can do is stand there in a pile of blankets and pillows and accept the affection. After a few seconds though he’s preening under the attention.
“We’ve got your back now Bruce.”
“Yeah, I mean I like to think I helped Y/N a lot with omega related things so maybe I can help you.” Jules says as you all pull back.
“By help she means going shopping. So sign me up.”
“There is that new store opening up soon that has omega only products. We could check it out.” Wanda suggests.
“That’s a great idea. What do you say?” Jules looked over at Bruce. He gives her a halfhearted smile.
“Sure, we can start with that.”
“It’s going to be great.”
****
The team eventually got back from their mission. They all went to their separate apartments and showered and changed before going into a debriefing. When they were finally done everyone ventured into the living room which was now made into a huge nest. Dinner, which was made by Wanda and Jonah, was ready to serve and you had been in charge of dessert.
“What is going on here?” Tony sauntered in looking in between the living room and dining room. “Are those my blankets?” He said when he noticed a very luxurious set in the corner of the living room.
“Maybe. We ran out of them and we wanted to surprise you guys with a movie night.”
“But it’s my blanket.”
“And it’s your corner. So only you’ll use it. Besides, Pepper gave us permission.” You say as you move to welcome your alphas back.
“I used to like you.” Tony shoots over his shoulder.
“And now you love me.” You shoot back.
“Hi, Sweetheart. I see you were causing havoc while we were out.”
“I am not.” You give Steve a kiss before moving to greet Bucky and Sam. “We wanted to do something with everyone together but knew you’d be tired. You’re welcome.” You sass as you wrap your arms around Sam who seemed a bit distracted.
He took a deep breath and looked down at you. His brows furrowed in confusion as he took you in.
“Are those our clothes?”
“Yeah, Wanda used magic so they would fit me the way I like.” You smile up at him. “Don’t worry they will still fit you too.”
He smiled at that. “I like you in our clothes.”
You smiled up at him before leading him to the dining room. At the table Sam pulled you into his lap as everyone sat together and talked amongst themselves.
“Are you ok, baby?” You asked in a hushed tone.
“Yeah. I'm fine. Why?”
“I can’t feel you.” You murmur as you rub your chest.
“I’m sorry, just give me some time. It was a hard mission.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You say before kissing his temple. “What can I do to help?”
“You’re already doing it.”
You smile at him before turning your attention back to the table. Everyone is having their own little conversations or talking over each other. Steve and Bucky are beside you, leaning into each other and stealing kisses. The scene before you is sweet and you can’t help but think about what it would have been like to have this as a child.
After dinner everyone moves to the living room and nest that was created in order to enjoy a movie night. The desserts you had made were sitting on the coffee table as well as other snacks for later on. It doesn’t take long for everyone to find a spot to get comfortable in.
Ricky and Jules cuddle on an armchair. Wanda and Jonah take the one next to them with Pietro sitting close by in order to keep an eye on them. Surprisingly Bruce and Nat also cuddle up on one side of the couch while Tony and Pepper take the other end. That leaves Clint sitting off on a beanbag chair by the couch. While you and the boys take up the other couch. Steve pulls you into his lap while Bucky cuddles up next to Sam. You can see Bucky, peppering kisses and scenting Sam as the movie starts to play. Slowly you begin to feel your bond with Sam opening up again and it feels like you can finally breathe.
Dinner was a success and so was the giant nest. So much so that Tony had commented about taking one of the other living rooms in the tower and turning it into a permanent nest. He pointed at you and asked you to be in charge of the project which you accepted.
In the elevator Steve had pulled Sam into his arms while you had wrapped your arms around Bucky. You pressed your cheek against his chest as the elevator ascended toward its destination. Once you were all in the apartment Steve and Bucky headed to your shared room to get ready for bed but Sam headed to his own room. It broke your heart to see him so disconnected so you followed him just to make sure he was alright.
You respected his space even though the door was open, you didn’t just walk into his room. Instead you leaned against the doorframe and watched as he sat on the edge of his bed.
“You don’t have to worry about me, sunshine. I’ll be ok, just need to unwind.” He tells you.
“I know. Is it ok if I stay anyway or do you prefer to be alone?”
It took him a moment but eventually asked you to stay. You walked over to him and stood in between his legs, placing your hands on his shoulders.
“What can I do to help? I hate seeing you like this.”
“I don’t know.” Sam shakes his head.
“What is making you feel like this? Did something happen on the mission?”
His beautiful brown eyes that were usually bright and happy are now filled with worry and sorrow. “I don't want to bother you with it.”
“You’re not bothering me. I want to help. You’re always there to help us, making us feel better when Steve, Bucky or I have a nightmare. Let me do the same for you.”
Sam took a deep breath and then nodded.
“During the mission there was a few minutes no one could contact Steve and Bucky. I had my eyes on them and then they were gone. I was trying to keep my calm for those few minutes but I thought they were gone.” Sam sniffles. “It brought back memories of when I had to watch my best friend die.”
“Oh baby.” You pull him in so that his head is resting against your chest. “I didn’t know about your best friend, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok. It’s been a while since it happened. I felt helpless in the field again and I never want to feel like that. It’s my job to have their backs and I failed.”
“You didn’t fail.” Steve said from the door. Bucky stood behind him, worry evident in his gaze. “Can we come in?”
Sam nods and Steve and Bucky sit on either side of him.
“Baby, why didn’t you tell us?”
“I just didn’t want to bother you. I’ll be fine.”
“We know,” Bucky says as he wraps an arm around Sam’s back. “But you don’t have to do it alone. You’re always there for us and we want to be there for you. And before you say anything, it doesn’t matter what any of us went through. Our trauma isn’t worse than yours. You deserve the same support you give us.”
“If you want to be alone we understand and we’ll give you your space. But we are more than willing to sit with you, talk or not talk about it. It’s whatever you need, baby.”
“I’d prefer if you stayed.”
You smile down at him before kissing his forehead.
“Now that’s my job.” Sam says.
“Everyone deserves forehead kisses.”
Sam pulls you into his lap and you yelp as he then stands up. You have no option but to hold onto him.
“Let’s get some rest, I’m exhausted.” He says as Steve and Bucky follow him out and into the shared room.
In bed you, Bucky and Steve doted on Sam. Giving him all the love and affection he could ever need and letting him know he was not alone. Never again would any of you have to deal with any of your past trauma alone.
Ch. 13
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Brat Taming: Part 5
Ransom gripped the highball glass in his hand with enough strength to nearly shatter the structure as he swallowed the mix of whiskey and club soda within.
It was the burn of his throat that brought him comfort after he was astutely and rather boldly shut down via his courting gifts when he had found out they’d been returned.
The statement on his credit card had reflected your denial of his gifts and an extension of him and his act of winning you over, and with the returned gift was scorn from his mother that Ransom should focus on omegas worthy of his class.
The sting of rejection, from his family and so-called friends, hadn’t felt nearly as excruciating as finding out his first courting gift was returned. It was a sting, a blow to his ego as alpha and it made him wonder if you thought he was incompetent or an idiot.
The rejection of an omega had Ransom on edge, given that very few omegas had ever thought of rejecting the rich and handsome alpha whose skills weren’t excluded from the bedroom.
The denial had conflicted with Jake’s acceptance and the knowledge that one of two potential omegas had wanted him. It was the conflicting acceptance and denial that had Ransom’s primal tendencies as an alpha put on edge. Despite what was going on in his head or his personal life, even despite his ego and his prickly personality, he was driven by his urges as an alpha to provide and find appeasement for his omegas.
And your temporary setback and rejection had stung.
It was that bitter spike to his damaged ego that made his day drink his usual whiskey, neither caring to take his time when ordering nor nurse the alcohol in his glass. It was a relief, albeit a poor one, that helped take the edge off since he had to meet up with the other two alphas to discuss what happened on the courting dates.
The only hope Ransom saw was in the stellar fact that he wasn’t the only one to be rejected. Ari’s gift has also been rejected, a denial that was sitting with the CEO alpha much better than it was with Ransom. It hadn’t seemed to settle under his skin as it had with Ransom, there wasn’t the grating sting that aggravated Ari and knocked him off his game, not like Ransom.
“Steve is making the best headway with Y/N-“ Ari had opened the discussion between the three alphas with the news that at least one was succeeding with you.
“She returned my gift.” Ransom was bitter and admittedly impressed by your act of a world-class omega brat, but bitter nonetheless.
And that bitterness had turned him toward another glass of whiskey and club soda, the drink downed while Ari was still on his first.
“Because you gave her a gift that was more about the cost than the meaning.” Steve had commented, watching Ransom slam the empty glass back down and use the sleeve of his designer sweater, which was fraying at the collar and sleeves, to wipe his mouth.
“And what did you give her?” Ransom scoffed, a telltale sign of his ego bruised and battered.
“Lavender, rosemary, eucalyptus and chamomile oil. She suffers from bad headaches when her heats approach and the first day is always the worst.” The gift was small, cheap even, but it meant something, and it meant that Steve was listening and in tune with your needs as an omega.
“What about you, Levinson?” Ransom scowled. “Why did she turn down your gift?”
“She didn’t say, and she didn’t need to say. They don’t owe us explanations.” Ari had and truly was, the buffer between Steve and Ransom.
The two alphas were on opposite spectrums as men and alphas, coming from two entirely different walks of life that shaped them and their ideals. Steve was a soldier of the past, he could not just play the long game but had the patience necessary to reflect the omega’s moods and temperaments, naturally.
Ransom was a spoiled rich kid, albeit one who was brilliant, and that had been an explanation for his fragility. Ransom was not used to being to any or being rejected as he was, it was almost as if he could not see that Jake and you were the best things for him.
Jake was softer and more susceptible to Ransom and his whims, while you were a lot more guarded and harder to please, using your defences to keep yourself and Jake from being hurt but underneath your guard, you were a sweetheart. You just wanted the best for Jake and yourself, you wanted the best for the omega you were in love with.
“You’re making headway with Jake,” Steve pointed out success for Ransom, “you already have him scented.”
“Jake got his first courting gift from us,” Ari spoke of ransom and himself, “but Steve hasn’t.”
“Yet.” Steve leaned back and sighed softly. “I don’t know what to get him.”
“So you didn’t get Jake anything? And I got rejected. What do you suggest for little miss brat?” Ransom crossed his arms over his chest and ground his teeth together.
“Don’t think you can win her over by throwing money at her,” Steve advised, seeing as he had made the most progress with you. “You need to take time and give her the classics, something simple.”
There was contemplation, a beat of silence before Ari had reached for his wallet in the back of his jeans and pulled out a few bills, tossing them on the table. “Come on, we gotta get ready.”
“For what?” Ransom’s edge remained, even when Steve and Ari started to stand.
“Jake get first to pick at a pack date, we’re going to a club.”
“I hate this.” Mumbling into his shoulder, Jake had laughed under his breath and turned his head to kiss your hair as the cab had slowly come to a stop, the club you were heading to was mere feet away.
“No you don’t, we’ve done this lots.” When he pulled away and you had gotten another look at him your stomach fluttered with butterflies, and the urge to touch him was impossible to resist.
You had pressed your hands against his chest and leaned in, brushing your lips against his in an exchange of affections. He sighed against your kiss, hands falling to your hips to stabilize you as you scoot further into his grasp.
“Baby Bear,” Jake reluctantly pulled away and brushed your loose hair behind your ears, his soft touch extending down the angle of your jaw to your chin, “you have to stop trying to distract me, you’re going to be fine.”
“You think I’m distracting you?” Your fingers resting upon his chest had spread and curled, balling his shirt beneath your palms as Jake slid one hand further up your back while the other hand rested on your hip. “Do you think-“
“Yes.” Jake cut you off with a single confirming word and a soft tap to your ass then he removed his left hand from your body, reached behind his back and grabbed the door handle, giving it a good tug.
As he had started to push the door open with his free hand, only to cease the action when it was opened for you. As the scent of the alpha began to infiltrate the car, you groaned under your breath and mumbled, your irritation for the arrogant alpha already causing your mood to sour.
You weren’t even halfway out of the cab, not out onto the street and you had already glowered at the alpha, waiting for Jake who had greeted his warmth and a little affectionate preen.
“I don’t like you.” You mumbled, caught between the cab and Ransom’s firm and broad chest, your body unwillingly quaking under the surge of his thick and heady scent.
He was keeping you trapped, keeping you stuck in place while his hand had settled on your hip, in the place Jake’s once had been, his fingers gripping the material of your skirt as it hung around your hips and lower thighs.
“I know exactly how you feel about me,” Ransom’s scent was thick and coiling, and he had leaned down with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.
He had inhaled your scent as he was pressed against you, the closeness of your body and his drawing him further into the depths of your primal connectivity that transcended your wants.
Your body, your basest desires and interests in an alpha, outweigh your reflections of who he was.
“Get away from me.” You hissed and raised your clutch, whacking him in the shoulder with as much strength as you could muster while being pressed tightly against him, the force overall insignificant enough to hurt him but it had delivered the message.
“You can’t avoid me forever.” Ransom had stepped back and allowed you to pass, waiting until you were on the sidewalk with Jake, Steve and Ari before he had paid the cab.
As it pulled away, he had followed your trail and looked you over, noting the distance you had put between himself and you, standing on the other side of Jake, your hand squeezing his hand.
“I’m excited,” Jake, like Ari, was a buffer between you and Ransom, and he had interfered in the tension that was lingering between the two of you, “it’s been so long since we’ve gone out.”
“You go out often?” Ari had questioned the two of you, stealing Jake from your side, tucking your best friend and fellow omega into his side, pointedly leaving you with Steve and Ransom to get you and Ransom to connect.
“Oh yeah, we used to go out all the time.” Jake had seemed so in his element, so naturally drawn to the alphas, his guard explicitly down and opened for them.
It was the kind of trust he had in them that you lacked, the kind of trust that you were unable to give them, save for maybe Steve.
“You have your ID?” Steve questioned, making another passive attempt at cutting the tension between you two, walking with you tucked between you and Ransom.
“Yep.” Your answer was short, the process of showing your ID even quicker, and it was mere moments of pulling it out before you slipped it back into your clutch and followed them inside, your temperament wavering.
“Are you okay?” Steve had stopped you from following Ari, Ransom and Jake, holding you back to whisper his question in your ears and gently rubbing his hands over your arms, soothing you as you physically deflated against him.
“He drives me crazy, I just wanna smack him.” You sighed and leaned into Steve who had pressed his lips against the top of your head, so easily settling you into a place of comfort.
He was, other than Jake, your comfort person and you both knew it.
“Try and be good, he’s trying.”
“Trying my ass.” You scoffed and yelped when Steve swiftly cracked his hand against your ass.
“Let me rephrase it, omega.” Steve felt you shudder against him, and his hand steadied you when you tried to escape. “You need to give Ransom a chance because Jake wants him, and part of you wants him too.”
“I do not-“ You jerked and whined, complacently turning to jelly against him as his teeth had dug into you the nape of your neck, a distinguishing move that rendered you submissive.
“You bend so easily to alphas you want. If it was Ransom, you would’ve caved.” Steve muttered, holding your hips as he gently scolded you. “Give Ransom a chance, and I’ll take you back to New York with me when I go.”
“Are you bribing me?” You looked at him over your shoulder, burning heat and powerful electricity bouncing back and forth between you. “You’re bribing me?”
“Do you have the ability to be good?” Steve pondered, his thumbs brushing against your scent glands, stirring a soft whine from you.
“Yes,” you whimpered, caving immediately, “I’ll be good.”
“Good girl.” Steve praised you and grabbed your hand in his. “I promise I’ll take you with me back to New York as long as you give him a chance.”
The steady flow of alcohol and the sensual beat of the music had driven the crowd as if they were part of an ocean system, flowing to and from the shore in a low and high tide. The flux of bodies grinding against each other has driven the sexual tension through the room until it was crackling and sparking like an electrical storm that was waiting to touch the ground.
The order or drinks that had made their way to your table was taken and ingested, though the effects were lost on Steve they hadn’t been lost on you or Jake. The flow of alcohol was loosening the two of you up, Jake more than you and the looseness of his character had driven him directly into the lap of Ari.
The two were self-consumed, Jake’s hands gripping Ari’s hair as he slowly ground himself against the alpha whose hands were clutching his ass to drive him forward. The two were entangled, happily woven together leaving you and Steve alone, as Ransom had wandered to the bar.
“They’re going to go home together,” you had alluded, sipping on the water Steve made you drink between cocktails, “I can tell.”
“Are you happy for them?” Steve’s hand on your thigh was climbing, your bond and connection pulling you together while the promise you’d made him was at the back of your mind.
“I want Jake to be happy,” you finished the water and pushed it away, slowly rising to stand, “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
“Should I walk you there?” Steve grabbed your hand, pulling your attention back to him. “There’s a lot of alphas here-“
“I’m fine,” you gently pulled your hand out of his grasp, “I’ll be fine.”
“Y/N, come straight back here or find Ransom. Don’t go wandering.” Steve was gentle in his alpha command, knowing well enough that gentility was better suited than a bark.
“I will, alpha.” The alcohol in your system, despite the water between, was making you more susceptible to the designation commands, and it was only a given why Steve would be so protective with so many alphas.
“Good girl.” He praised you, heat blooming in your belly as you started to walk away from the table and pushed through the crowd.
Your senses were dulled by the way of alcohol and the heady mix of scents that made it hard to comprehend where you were amongst the mass of designations in the club though luck was on your side when you found the bathroom and stepped inside.
You were quick to find a clean enough stall and lock yourself inside, just for a moment of reprieve. You had taken more time than necessary to isolate yourself away from the throes of the crowd’s scents, even if the bathroom wasn’t the best place to deescalate your overstimulation.
When you were ready to leave, you stepped out of the bathroom and stepped up to the sink, pumping soap into your hands and scrubbing vigorously while studying yourself in the mirror.
The sleek leather skirt you’d dug out of your closet was still comfortably set around your hips and thighs, giving you enough coverage to be able to successfully bend without anything slipping, and the boots you’d chosen had given you stability and comfort.
There was no doubt that you would’ve appeared overdressed compared to some women who were at the club tonight, but it was more about comfort than style, especially in a place like this.
As you turned away from the mirror, after washing your hands, you walked toward the door and pulled it open, the handle nearly slipping from your grip as an alpha stood on the other side, his eyes nearly blown black with lust.
“I followed you from the bar.” He was drunk or high, maybe both, and every warning sign in your head was telling you to run.
Every possible nerve in your body was coming alive with fright as the sense of imminent danger was starting to settle under your skin.
“You’re unmarked.”
“Fuck off.” Your figurative hackles were raised, your teeth bared as your self-defensiveness took over every other sensation. “I’m not interested in being your chew toy.”
“You smell good.” He grinned and you attempted to slam the door in his face, using every feat of strength you had to slam it, the motion stopped by his hand grabbing the wood.
You slammed your shoulder against the door, momentary victory as he yelped and squealed in pain, the bones in his hand breaking upon impact with the door and the frame.
“You fucking bitch!” He cursed you out and yanked his hand between the door, allowing you to close it but hadn’t gotten the opportunity to lock it. “You stupid cunt!”
You stepped back, barely missing the door hit you as he threw it open and happened upon you. His eyes were black, his teeth bared in aggression with the intent to break you.
“Get out!” You were trapped between him and the bathroom, trapped between a wild animal and freedom. “I said I’m not interested!”
“As if I give a fuck what you want!” The aggressor had taken a step toward you, a single step, and then his head was grabbed and slammed against the door frame.
There was a sickening crunch as his head made contact that was followed by his body dropping to the bathroom floor, blood pooling from a cut on his head.
Ransom stood in the doorway, his own eyes darkened by rage and aggression. He stalked toward the alpha that was moments from assaulting you and drove his fist repeatedly into his face, the alpha below Ransom unable to contend with the blows.
It was a scene that had you startled as Ransom let loose his aggression until the other alpha had passed out, and collapsed against the ground. When he was no longer responding, Ransom stood and shook his hand twice, knuckles bloodied and battered, darkened gaze fixated on you.
“Ransom-“ he crashed into you, hands grabbing your ass as he lift you to the bathroom counter and slated his lips against your own.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back arching against him as his scent coiled around you possessively and protectively.
“Ransom,” you moaned his name as his lips were drawn down to your neck, teeth scraping against your scent gland, “fuck…”
“You’re mine,” he growled against your flesh, holding you steady as he scented you, as he invaded your sense of reason and covered your body with his, “you’re my omega.”
“I’m yours.” You quaked against him. Your fingers dug into his chest, fingers grabbing hold of his shirt as he bit down on your neck, the mark not official and not deep enough to be permanent.
It was enough to make you reek of him, a temporary claim.
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Before I Leave You (Pt.65)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.
Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,
W/c: 15.0k
A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.
The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.
Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.
God does she know it.
She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.
Red is better color.
She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.
But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.
She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.
Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.
She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.
She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.
“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”
Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.
Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.
A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.
Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.
She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.
Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.
She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.
Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.
She sighs. Alphas and their messes.
In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.
Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.
That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.
She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.
She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.
The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.
He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.
Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.
This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.
Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.
She looks at the flame, sparking.
“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.
Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.
She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.
This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.
And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.
Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)
She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”
“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.
“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”
~-~
(Now, Namjoon)
Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.
It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.
He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.
No.
Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.
Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.
He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.
He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.
Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.
The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.
There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.
"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.
It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.
This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.
If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.
Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.
Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-
Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.
They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.
Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.
He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:
Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).
It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.
"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.
"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.
"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.
He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.
Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.
"I need you to promise."
Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.
"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"
"Just promise."
"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.
"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."
"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.
"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."
Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.
“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.
“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.
Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.
Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.
“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”
It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.
“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."
Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.
It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.
Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.
Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.
He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.
Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,
Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.
You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.
Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers.
He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.
Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)
You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes.
But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.
You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.
Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.
To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.
He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path.
Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.
An alpha. An alpha hunting.
You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.
He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.
His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.
His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.
“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.
“I mean it. Never.”
He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.
“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.
After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat.
Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.
“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.
Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.
He's never going to hurt you. He promised.
He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.
You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.
But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.
“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"
Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces."
"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"
"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."
"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"
Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."
You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.
"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."
"What the fuck-"
Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"
Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"
There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually.
You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.
You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.
"Shit are you okay?"
"Pup?"
"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.
Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.
"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.
When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.
"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."
"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.
"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."
Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.
"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."
You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.
You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”
“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.
Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.
If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.
“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”
Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.
“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.
"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”
Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.
“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."
You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."
Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”
“Oh my god daisy-”
You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."
Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”
Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”
"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.
"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“
Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”
“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.
“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."
You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."
Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."
“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.
The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."
Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.
"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"
Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.
You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"
“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."
The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.
Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.
Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.
“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”
Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.
He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.
“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”
Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.
“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”
“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"
“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.
Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."
Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.
Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.
"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."
Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.
"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.
Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"
Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."
"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."
"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."
"You mean-"
"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."
"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"
“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”
You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."
"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."
Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.
Maybe if he had, things would go differently.
A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."
Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”
Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.
"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.
“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“
"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.
You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.
“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”
(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)
Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”
You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”
“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."
"You've never said-"
Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."
You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.
You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.
You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.
“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"
You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”
Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.
“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"
There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.
Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.
Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.
To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.
The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.
Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.
Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.
Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.
To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.
But another woman? Even one like that?
Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.
It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.
But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.
Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.
By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.
~-~
(18 hours later, Jimin)
Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.
Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.
He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.
Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.
Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.
Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.
At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.
But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.
When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.
The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.
He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.
A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.
It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.
And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.
To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.
Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.
Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).
“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.
"Pup told me everything."
Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.
Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.
"It's okay,"
"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"
That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.
For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.
But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.
Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).
In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.
Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.
It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.
Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."
"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"
Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.
(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).
It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.
It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.
How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.
They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.
Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.
“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”
Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."
It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.
“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”
“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.
Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.
Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"
"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).
“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”
Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."
“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.
"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”
“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”
Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.
“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.
"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”
She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.
“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”
Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.
It stays there.
~-~
The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:
There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.
Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.
There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.
The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.
“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.
Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.
But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.
Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.
They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.
Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.
The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;
Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.
Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.
Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.
Once they're gone, other promises get made:
“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”
“I can ask some of my contacts-“
“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”
“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”
“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”
In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.
"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.
"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.
(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)
You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.
They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.
It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.
“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.
Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"
"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-
"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).
“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.
"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”
“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.
There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.
The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."
You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.
“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.
He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.
“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.
Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.
“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.
“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”
“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”
You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”
But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.
What's more intimate? Sex or murder?
He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.
“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.
Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.
You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.
No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.
"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.
You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.
Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.
You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.
Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.
The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.
It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.
Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.
“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.
You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.
“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.
You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.
Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.
Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”
Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”
“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.
that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.
the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.
It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.
“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.
Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.
It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.
Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.
"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.
You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."
Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"
You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."
Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.
If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.
But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"
You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.
"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.
He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.
There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.
"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.
You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.
"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.
Probably.
"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)
“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”
"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.
You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.
Noodle stops his chomping.
The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.
You freeze where you stand.
The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.
And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.
Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.
It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.
Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.
You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.
Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.
Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.
The danger is all in your head.
Only it's not,
Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.
~-~
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Notes:
There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.
in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.
i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.
on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?
this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.
when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.
it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.
Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3
In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.
although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!
i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.
i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.
i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?
i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.
oh~ shits about to go down~
Mini-Playlist
Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)
Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)
JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)
Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).
#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts gang au#bts mafia au#bts polyamory au#bts au#bts fluff#bts hurt/comfort#bts werewolf au#bts angst bts omegaverse fic#bts hybrid fic#min yoongi fic#kim namjoon fic#kim seokjin fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#jjk#pjm#myg#knj#kth#ksj#jhs#jung hoseok fic#min yoongi x reader#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader
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Fake mate masterlist
Summary: Faking it is not that hard.
Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, shitty parents, feisty omega, fake relationship, bisexuell Steve & Bucky, implied smut/claiming, fluff, nesting, scenting, Bucky is a big softie, a/b/o
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Contains: 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 💦 smut // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut // 😈 darkish
Fake Mate (1) 💔 💕
True Mate (2) 💕
Loving Mates (3) 💕🖤
TBA
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky x reader#stucky#a/b/o#polyamory#alpha!steve x omega!reader#alpha!bucky x omega!reader#stever rogers x reader x bucky barnes#Fake mate masterlist
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Link
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Tom Riddle, Alpha Cedric Diggory, Omega Harry Potter, Smut, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Boypussy, Bottom Harry Potter, Top Tom Riddle, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Mpreg, Cheating, Love Triangles, Forbidden Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Riding, Baby Trapping, Possessive Tom Riddle, Cuckolding, Polyamory, Unreliable Narrator
Summary:
Something about Cedric’s gentleness with Harry made him feel at ease with the daydream of starting a family of his own someday. Because Cedric made him feel safe and loved, made him feel alright with being an omega in a world ruled by alphas. If he had to get married to an alpha, it couldn’t be anyone else but Cedric.
The fact that he was fooling around with Tom Riddle was irrelevant.
Or: Omega!Harry cheats on Alpha!Cedric with Alpha!Tom, gets impregnated by Tom, and tries to baby-trap Cedric with Tom’s pup.
#Harry Potter#fanfiction#ao3#tomarry#harry/cedric#a/b/o verse#polyamory#mpreg#voyuerism#tom/harry/cedric#triad maybe#cross era au
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INTRODUCTION
Hello everyone and to the people that is following me and thank you for following me. I know it's slow going but I was going to put ch.2 up but it seemed like it needed alot of work from the people I asked help from. So, starting backward instead of forward... here is the introduction of the story please like and comment. DON'T OWN THE PHOTOS AND BTS
Yn (codename Bella when doing jobs for that monster) : 20 year's old, a fighter with a kind heart still, unwanted child, sold to a monster/ devil Mr. Melgar at 15 yrs old when presented as an Omega. Trained in Assassinations, Combat, Weaponry, Seduction, and Acting. Will kill anyone in a heartbeat whoever hurts her made up family.
Friends: BTS at childhood but left when she was 7yrs old. During the time she was at the monster's base she made friends with a girl named Jolina, both sons of Mr. Melgar and also with Mr. Melgar's sons' group of friends. Mates: BTS
BTS: Alpha's, mid to late 20's, own's legit restaurants, nightclub's, etc., sometimes works with the government even though they are Mafia Kings, was born into the mafia world and was trained since their early teens. was searching for Yn for a few years until they met their best childhood friend Janet (aka Yn's stand in), they know that Janet isn't really Yn just acting dumb until Yn show's up and have the long-awaited talk, Made South Korea a safe haven for Omega's, and Beta's. Childhood friends of Yn and her mates also.
Mr. Melgar/Monster/Mr. Devil: age late 40's Power-hungry two-faced guy, has legal and illegal businesses/dealings, has wife and twin boys, Cold hearted person but loved his wife and kids once upon a time before money and power went to his head. Bought Jolina when was 15 yrs old., Doesn't get his hands dirty by letting his girls/boys do the dirty work for him. A person who really hates it when he doesn't get what he wants.
Yuki Melgar & Zero Melgar: Mr.Melgar twin boys Alpha's, born 30mins. before his brother, they are 29 years old and nine years apart from Yn., Yuki is Tsundere while Zero is more Tsundere. They want their father dead for killing their mother and her family. They are both trained on taking over their Father's Legal and Illegal businesses. Closer to Yn than to Jolina since Yn is the baby of the group. Friends with their father allies son's all of them wanting a better life without Mr. Melgar and their friend's fathers in it.
Jolina/Yn's partner: A Omega 29 years old one year apart from the twins and eight years apart from Yn, She was bought when she was really young doesn't remember much about her life before being bought. She was taught everything there was to know about getting the job done, was brainwashed into being a cold killing machine loyal to Mr. Melgar until meeting Yn. When she met Yn it was in one of the girls rooms in the Melgar mansion and saw Yn curled into herself on the bed crying and decided to train Yn in everything she knows to survive in this type of world.
Janet (a.k.a Yn's stand in): A 20yrs old Omega. She has an uncanny similarity to Yn as in body and looks, she was in trouble with one of the local gang's when Yn and Jolina found her and helped her out. Yn realized that they uncannily look like twins except with different parents which is odd but not unheard of. Since at that time with Yn being 17 almost 18 years old, she asked Janet to watch over her childhood friends Bts so that they could stop searching for her and just to live life. So, after months of teaching Janet self-defense, and how to act like Yn somewhat since it's been a long time since they last saw each other, Yn and Jolina dropped off Janet in the airport heading for South Korea. Once at South Korea airport, she called for a taxi then told the driver to take her to one of the BTS's businesses and the rest is history. She doesn't know that BTS knows that she is not the real Yn but was playing dumb.
HOW SOULMATES/MATES WORK
SOULMATES ARE MATCHES TO THE SOUL AND YOUR FOREVER PARTNER. IT STARTED TO APPEAR 50 YEARS AGO WHEN PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD STARTED HAVING REALLY WEIRD SIGNS ON THEIR BODY. EVERYONE STARTED TO GET SICK SINCE THEY WERE WITH PEOPLE WHO WEREN'T THEIR SOULMATES. A LOT OF PEOPLE DIED FOR BEING STUBBORN ON NOT FINDING THEIR SOULMATES AND STAY WITH THE PEOPLE THEY'VE CHOOSEN. IN ORDER FOR HUMANITY TO KEEP ON GOING THE GOVERNMENT FORCED THE PEOPLE INTO FINDING THEIR SOULMATE OR OTHERWISE BE KILLED IN THE HANDS OF THE GOVERNMENT SINCE PEOPLE WAS STILL BEING STUBBORN THE GOVERNMENT ORDERED THEIR SCIENTISTS TO COME UP WITH A WAY TO KEEP HUMANITY GOING THAT'S WERE ALPHA,BETA,OMEGA COMES IN AND STARTED TO EXPERIMENT WITH THE ANIMAL DNA AND HUMAN DNA TO SEE IF THEY CAN BE STABLE TOGETHER. IT TOOK A FEW YEARS TO GET IT RIGHT BUT THEY FINALLY DID IT AND MADE IT INTO A ONE TIME PILL. ONCE THE GOVERNMENT ORDERED THE PEOPLE TO START TAKING THE PILL AFTER TAKING IT PEOPLE STARTED TO ACCEPT THEIR SOULMATES SLOWLY BUT SURELY. THAT WAS THEN NOW IT'S MORE ACCEPTED AND THE GOVERNMENT EASED UP ON IT DURING THE YEARS SINCE NOW THERE ARE DIFFERENT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIP: SOULMATE, UNIQUE SOULMATE, AND MATES.
ALPHA: THE LEADER TYPE, DOMINANT PERSONALITY, THE MAIN ONES WHO OWNS BUSINESSES DOCTORS, THERE ARE ALPHA'S WHO ARE THE FOLLOWING TYPE BUT NOT IN THE BEDROOM. ALL ALPHA KNOW'S HIGHLY OF THEMSEVLES AROUND THE WORLD EXCEPT SOME STATES IN THE USA RECENTLY BUT SLOWLY MOVING TO OTHER STATES AND SOUTH KOREA.
BETA: SECOND LEADER TYPE WHEN ALPHA IS NOT THERE OR HAS DONE SOMETHING WRONG IN THEIR EYES. MAKING SURE EVERYTHING IS RUNNING SMOOTHLY ANDTAKEN CARED OF. TREATED HORRIBLILY IN THE OTHER STATES THAT IS SLOWLY CHANGING AND AROUND THE WORLD EXCEPT STATES THAT ARE CHANGED AND SOUTH KOREA, THEY GET TO HAVE HIGHER PAYING JOB UNLESS THEY LOVE THE JOB THEIR DOING SO JUST A HIGHER PAY, BETTER HEALTH CARE AND PAID VACATION TIME.
OMEGA: MAINLY TO TAKE CARE OF THE FAMILY AND USE FOR BREEDING. MOSTLY SEEN AS A BABY MAKER, TREATED AS LOWEST OF THE LOW THEY HAVE LOW PAYING JOBS AND SEEN AS TRASH. SOME STATES IN THE USA HAVE CHANGED THEIR LAWS AND VIEWS GIVING FREEDOM AND RIGHTS TO THEM IN OWN THEIR OWN STORE OR BUSINESSES. WHILE THE OTHER STATES ARE SLOWLY CHANGING THEIR LAWS NOT THEIR VIEW. IN SOUTH KOREA OMEGA HAS THEIR FREEDOM AND RIGHTS, THEY ARE SEEN AS EQUALS.
UNIQUE SOULMATES ARE THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE WHICHEVER SIGN THAT WILL HELP YOU FIND YOUR SOULMATE OR SOULMATES OR DON'T HAVE SIGNS, BUT THE ADDED TO IT IS THAT IF YOUR SOULMATE IS AN OMEGA THE OMEGA HAS TO MAKE SURE YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HER NOT BECAUSE OF THE SIGN BUT BY BEING HER TRUE SELF. DO NOT REJECT A UNIQUE SOULBOND IT WILL KILL THE OMEGA SOULMATE. IF THE SOULMATE DOES NOT HAVE THE SIGN'S OR THE MARKS. THE PERSON HAS TO TOUCH THE PERSON IN ORDER TO MAKE IT CLICK.
MATES ARE THE PEOPLE WHO IGNORE THEIR SOULMATE FOR THE PEOPLE THEY CHOOSE TO BE WITH. NOW THEY DON'T GET KILLED OFF BY THE GOVERNMENT SINCE HUMANITY IS THRIVING AGAIN SO THEY CAN STAY WITH THE PERSON THEY CHOOSEN TO BE WITH. WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THE SOULMATES THAT GETS REJECTED? THEY CAN CHOOSE OR WAIT FOR A SECOND CHANCE SOULMATE TO COME.
#bts mafia au#bts soulmate au#bts x chubby reader#ot7 bts x reader#bts chubby reader#bts ot7 x reader#alphabtsxomegareader#bts x reader#bts a/b/o#bts fanfic#bts#bts poly!au#bts polyamory au#bts omegaverse au
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Clark takes the Batfamily as his harem…they've proven themselves exemplary members of the human species, and since they aren't all blood-related, they have genetic variety for breeding.
His alien appetites cannot be satisfied by just one human, even if Bruce comes closer than anyone at being enough.
Clark would feel bad about impregnating all the Wayne omegas, but he is virtually the last Kryptonian, an endangered species. He has a duty to continue his line…and that means quantity, spreading his seed widely. One child produced by a beta human woman just won't cut it (not that he loves Lois and Jon any less).
Kryptonian alphas have far fewer ruts than human alphas, so he's well into adulthood before he experiences one…he didn't even know he'd have heats until he wakes up from one, and finds the entire Batfam imprisoned and glaring at him, slick and cum dripping from their holes.
#SuperBat#ClarkDick#dc comics#Omegaverse#clark kent#alpha!Clark Kent#batfam#ficlets#op#my fic#A/B/O#polyamory#snippets#nsft
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