#bts a/b/o fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollyhomburg · 1 month

Text

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give?

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage.

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too.

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring.

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway.

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?”

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?”

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child.

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but-

Namjoon would be a good father.

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach.

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in).

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty.

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image.

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

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

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

355 notes · View notes

dearly-somber · 2 months

Text

stand still (i’m sniffing you) | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, f2l (friends-to-lovers), (not actually) unrequited love, pining, mutual pining, high school!au, werewolf/shifter!au, fluff, domestic fluff

-> w/c. 802

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. Inspired by that one clip where Jungkook back-hugs Hoseok while they’re practicing 🥹🥹

-> collection. mini-series

-> warnings. None!!

-> started. Mon., Feb. 19th, 2024 @ 21:42

-> fin. Mon., Feb. 19th, 2024 @ 22:19

-> edited. Tues., Feb. 20th, 2024 @ 07:06

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook has a stronger sense of smell than the rest of his pack. Partially because his wolf is simply better at it (much to the pack’s chagrin, because Jungkook never fails to bring it up during their biweekly pissing contests), but also because he’d been blessed with a good sense of smell even in his human form.

Something is burning a street down? Jungkook can smell it.

Someone took a shit in the backyard because they were too lazy to shift and do it inside where they could flush it? Jungkook can smell it (and he’s going to make it everyone else’s problem).

Y/N comes over without letting him know and—wait, what?

He sticks his head out of his room like an excited cartoon character. “Bunny?”

Jennie glowers at him as she’s walking down the stairs, shaking her head with a sigh. “She’s not even halfway up the pavement.”

Jungkook frowns, feeling a prickle of embarrassment race up the back of his neck. “A-and! You know she’s here!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I can hear her,” Jennie sasses, scoffing with a grin so shit-eating Jungkook thinks his eye twitches, “not because I’m so honed in on her scent that I know she’s coming from a mile away.”

“Okay it was not a mi—Y/N!”

She huffs as Jungkook barrels into her, stumbling back ever so slightly. Jungkook feels his wolf wagging his tail like the love-struck mutt he is, pulling back at Y/N’s signature okay, that’s enough pat-on-the-back she does whenever she deems a hug “over”.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He can’t help but speak loudly, wondering if his eyes are sparkling—cliche, sure, but he remembers Yoongi mentioning it once, and it hasn’t left his mind ever since.

Y/N laughs (Jungkook’s heart soars in his chest), shaking hee head as she drops a duffel bag next to the coffee table, walking toward the kitchen with Jungkook hot on her heels.

“I wasn’t planning coming over but my mom dropped me off to go to the library and she isn’t picking me up until five, so I decided to come over and hang out.”

That explains it! Jungkook wondered why Y/N smelt more bookish than usual today. It’s always present under her daffodil-raisin combo, but it makes sense why it’s so much stronger today. He imagines her sitting in the library for hours on end, fully immersed in a book, and the thought makes him smile like a fool.

Jungkook is hit with the sudden, overwhelming urge to smell you. Fueled by his excitement at a surprise-visit and the whims of his wolf, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest and pressing his nose to the back of your neck. His nose scrunches happily as he inhales your scent, first in short, wolfish little huffs, and then in longer, more appreciative inhales which infiltrate all his senses.

He waddles into the kitchen clinging to Y/N’s back, vaguely aware of the conversation she’s started with Rosé, Seokjin and Jisoo (who are busy making dinner), too focused on keeping his nose scrunched to the back of her neck to hear (or truly care about) the specifics.

“Jungkook-ah,” Y/N says softly, reaching up to touch his hands.

“Stay still,” he huffs, feeling a tingle run up his arms when she shivers at his breath on her neck. “I’m sniffing you,” he mumbles, swaying her from side to side as they come to a standstill in the middle of the kitchen.

Y/N snorts, and he imagines she has a smile on her face.

“Yah!” Seokjin yells, maneuvering around them with a pot of rice held close to his chest. “I’m trying to cook!”

“Yeah!” Rosé frowns, roughly mixing what Jungkook now realizes is kimchi. “Get a room!”

“Kook,” Y/N starts.

The whine he lets out dies in the back of his throat when she reaches up over her shoulder to palm his hair, gently scrunching her fingers in the messy strands. “Lemme help cook dinner and then we can play some Mortal Combat before I leave, hm?”

Waiting until the heat in the tips of his ears cools a little, Jungkook gives a curt little nod of his head (blatantly ignoring his wolf’s request to nip your shoulder). He inhales long and hard before finally letting you go.

Y/N then very casually turns to help the trio in the kitchen as Jungkook plops onto the couch in between Lisa and Hoseok with a satisfied sigh, practically sitting on top of them.

He yelps, rubbing the back of his head when he feels Hoseok smack him over the head with a pointed look.

“What?” he says, high-pitched and pouting.

Lisa just laughs, shaking her head as she scrolls through her phone. “You’re hopeless, Kook.”

187 notes · View notes

ldysmfrst · 3 days

Text

American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 5 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 2765 (sorry it is so short)

Work count for Story: 19,008

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Ko-fi and a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Keep Safe. Keep Safe. First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child.

Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain, you felt safe around them.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon.

Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”

As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but is facing away from you, looking at his packmates.

Noticing that the group has gathered in a circle, something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager.

“Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.” He nods and moves towards the van in front.

“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to the group of men. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”

Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”

“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.

Unwrapping his tail, he pushes on your back softly, urging you to get in. He returns to the circle of hybrids in what looks like a new heated discussion.

After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.

After you had gone off with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. The mates seek comfort in one another. Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hosek around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.

Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there are six of them. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation.

“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them.

The vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once.

Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.

Hosek tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you, and it’s high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.

Jimin agrees with Hosek and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.

Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go.

Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.

Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.

“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation.”

“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.

“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hosek voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself.

Moving to hug Hosek with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”

“That’s it! I go in van. Show Mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up. He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Soekjin.

“No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”

Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos.

With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”

Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.

"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hosek, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going.

“No,” Soekjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”

“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.

“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along. He mutters promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.

Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best.

Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now.

You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.

Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console, opened it, and held it out to you. “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”

Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye.

With a sigh, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”

Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.

“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not.”

At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.”

You are not sure what was more surprising. The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.

Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hosek.

Hosek gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.

This puts you in the middle and unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs.

“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.

“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hosek speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.

“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you.

“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me.”

Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to tighten you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.

“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hosek your seatbelt.

His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “you are much more cozy to sit with than Joon, Miss y/n.”

You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, haha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”

A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl.

Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers which causes you to press against Hosek. Placing a hand back on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”

“We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”

Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”

A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm now around your waist. Hosek chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin.

Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”

While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions.

Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.

Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some kind of adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male K-pop band.

To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.

Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction.

“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job always to calm down these two lovebirds.

Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”

The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate,”Scent then help mates.”

Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Tae’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along Tae’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across Tae’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch.

Continuing his journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scenting session continues.

The scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes. It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix.

Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.

Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.

Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.

“Tae-hyung, Minie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh.

Nodding, Jumin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.

Previous / Next

Taglist - Open

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie @seoullove96 @reallysparklychaos @tired7o7

137 notes · View notes

downbad4yoongi · 4 months

Text

Merry and Mended

🎄Merry and Mended

🎄Alpha!Yoongi x Omega!Taehyung

🎄AU/Genre: holiday fluff, strangers to lovers, a/b/o

🎄Warnings: smut

🎄Rating: MA

🎄Word count: 8536

Wrote this as a birthday gift to myself, and as a part of @bangtanwritershq Holiday Wish List December Event.

I love a good Taegi 🥰 Enjoy your holidays.

(Thank you to my beta readers, @moonleeai & @colormepurplex2. Thank you, @cherrysoulth, for my beautiful banner.)

Yoongi’s head jerks up as the store is filled with a cacophony of tin cans crashing to the floor. He straightens from where he was slouching on a stool behind the counter, sets down his book, and moves toward the front of the store to discover the cause of the commotion. He shuffles toward the front, his nose wrinkling as he picks up on the lightly burnt scent of a distressed omega. It doesn’t take long to figure out what the crashing sound was when his foot connects with a Sterno can that strayed a bit too far from the rest.

With a furrowed brow, the alpha rounds the aisle and sees a man desperately scrambling to pick up the fallen merchandise. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side; he is sure he has never seen this man in town before. They don’t get many strangers out this way.

Yoongi clears his throat to capture the stranger’s attention. The man’s head snaps up, his fluffy dark brown curls falling into widened eyes. Anything Yoongi was going to say stalls in his mind, leaving him there to stare at one of the most gorgeous people he has ever seen.

The man stands up, arms full of tin cans, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to look at–” he looks over his shoulder, motioning back behind him, causing a few of the cans he gathered to slip out of his arms. He winces, an embarrassed blush spreading across smooth, golden skin.

The omega’s movements cause the air around him to stir, the currents carrying his scent to Yoongi. His senses pick up on the subtle chamomile, albeit tinged from his worry, smell surrounding the omega. Yoongi blinks at him silently, a bit disoriented by the memories that scent brings up for him. This complete stranger reminds him of when his mother would brew him a cup of tea whenever he wasn’t feeling his best to soothe him. He snaps out of it only when the man’s expression goes from contrite to worried.

“Um, it’s okay. Honestly, it was a bit too quiet this week. Needed something to liven things up.” Inhaling deeply, soaking up more of the comforting scent emanating from the man, Yoongi stoops to gather the Sterno tins into a central location before reassembling the display. His hands move carefully while trying to concentrate on controlling his own scent, not wanting it to flare and give away the confusing emotions swirling within.

The omega stoops down with him and places the tins he was holding on the pile that Yoongi began accumulating. A deep chuckle rumbles out of the stranger as he shoots Yoongi a boxy smile, “Well then, I am happy I could be of service.”

A light blush perfuses across the apples of Yoongi’s pale cheeks, his fingers tightening on the can in his hand, his own cedar scent saturating the air to mix with the gentle one surrounding the other man. Fuck, even his smile is beautiful. Yoongi tears his eyes away, quickly sweeping up the last few errant cans and stands. The man stands with him, his camel duster falling to its full length, leaving only the bottom half of a pair of black slacks and shiny loafers in view.

“So I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you just stopping through?”

The man cocks an eyebrow and sarcastically quips, “Oh, do you know everyone who lives around here?”

“Yeah, I do,” Yoongi retorts, a deadpan expression on his face.

He scoffs, “Really?”

“Really. Welcome to my general store. This store has been in my family's hands for eighty years, and we’ve lived in this town that entire time. I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi.”

The man blinks sheepishly, “I seem to be on a roll with making things awkward…” He scrunches his face up before shaking his arms and thrusting his hand toward Yoongi. “I’m Kim Taehyung, and yes, I am very new in town.”

Yoongi slides his hand into Taehyung’s grip and shakes the proffered hand. Both of their scents spiking at the contact. “Welcome to town. What were you needing from here before you destroyed my display?”

“Yah! I apologized for that, and you accepted the apology,” Taehyung huffs.

“I’m prone to changing my mind.” Yoongi sweeps the edges of his red plaid flannel back and shoves his hands into his black jeans. “Can I help you find something in particular?”

Taehyung purses his lips, studying Yoongi for a beat before spinning to motion at the aisle behind him. “I was trying to choose a space heater. The heat in my place doesn’t seem to work.”

Yoongi maneuvers around Taehyung and eyes the selection on the shelf. He slaps his hand on the top of one of the boxes, “This one would be best for heating mid to large areas.” Yoongi’s eyes flick away, his teeth pulling at the dry skin of his lip. “Or I could come and fix your heat for you…”

Taehyung feels his brows disappear into his hairline and can’t help the sassy comment that flows from his lips, “Are you the town’s handyman, too?”

Yoongi’s lips twist into a wry smile. “No. I just thought, um, that I could maybe help.”

“That’s really kind of you. When would you be able to come by?” Taehyung questions.

“Tomorrow?” Yoongi suggests, “The store is closed on Sundays, so that would be best for me.”

Taehyung’s head bobs, “Honestly, the sooner the better. While I love a good popsicle, I personally don’t enjoy being turned into one.”

The truck eases to a stop in front of the quaint red house at the end of the street. Yoongi squints out of the window at the structure. He recognizes the house as belonging to the Kims, an adorable elderly couple who mostly kept to themselves, as he shuts off the engine, still contemplating why he offered to help this stranger.

He is not a morning person, and he is known for not being the friendliest toward strangers. It really doesn’t make sense that he is here and outside before noon. He picks up his iced coffee in one hand and pushes the door open with the other before sliding out of the cab of the truck. He scowls as the cold air envelopes him and seeps through the layers of his puffy winter jacket and hoodie. He reaches into the bed, hefting his toolbox over the side, and starts lugging it up toward the front door, his scowl deepening with each freezing step.

Huddling in on himself, he waits for Taehyung to answer his knocks on the door, internally cursing himself for this dumb idea; so what if this man reminds him of home. After what feels like an ice age, the white door opens to reveal a drowsy-looking Taehyung in an oversized green hoodie, black lounge pants, and sherpa-lined slippers.

The scowl on Yoongi’s face evaporates as he takes in Taehyung’s messy bed hair and puffy sleep face. The earthy notes of chamomile hang heavy in the air. Oh, this is why he is out here freezing his nuts off. “Hi.”

Taehyung squints and just looks at him for a beat before clearing the sleep from his throat. “Good morning. Sorry, I forgot you were going to come by today, or at least I didn’t think it would be this early.” Taehyung’s deep timbre washes over Yoongi, pulling him into his aura even more.

“Oh well. I was up, so here I am,” Yoongi responds flatly.

Taehyung backs up, opening the door wider, “Come on in.” He swiftly closes the door once Yoongi has cleared the entrance, shutting out the winter weather. As soon as he steps inside, the soothing herbal aroma envelopes him like a warm embrace.

“I would say it’s good to be out of the cold, but it really isn’t much warmer in here. Your heat truly is broken.”

“And yet, you are drinking an iced coffee,” Taehyung motions at the clear plastic cup held in Yoongi’s fingerless gloved hand.

Yoongi looks from his coffee to Taehyung, “Your point?”

Taehyung opens his mouth but quickly shuts it again, shaking his head. “Um, let me show you where things are.” Taehyung spins on his heel and leads Yoongi through the house and to the hall thermostat. “You have to start here, no?”

Yoongi nods in affirmation, “Yeah, this is the first step.” Yoongi sets his coffee down and slips out of his winter jacket before peering at the wall thermostat and fiddling with different settings. When that doesn’t yield a result, he asks Taehyung where his breaker box is and is guided to a storage closet deeper inside the house. Opening the metal door, he examines the breaker switches and confirms none are tripped, and everything should operate normally.

“Where’s your furnace?” Yoongi asks as he shuts and latches the breaker box door.

Taehyung jerks his head behind him, motioning further toward the back of the house. “Closet near the back of the house.”

Yoongi follows Taehyung to the next location and pulls open the closet door. He takes in the small space before squatting down in front of the furnace in the corner.

Taehyung leans against the open door and watches as Yoongi stoops down to look at the unit. He locates the power switch and confirms it is in the ‘on’ position. Yoongi’s mouth thins into a firm line as he runs his fingers along the seam of the furnace door. He leans closer to the furnace door, eyes narrowing, sliding his hand to the handle, jiggling it a tad. That confirms his suspicion; he opens the door and then firmly shuts it again.

“What was that for?” Taehyung pipes up over his shoulder, clearly confused. Before Yoongi can respond, a loud shuddering sound is heard through the house, followed by a low hissing.

Yoongi glances over his shoulder at Taehyung, “That was to turn your heat back on.” Yoongi straightens back up, brushing his hands off on his ripped jeans. “The door to your furnace wasn’t shut all the way, and the failsafe was triggered. When the failsafe is on, the furnace won’t function as a precaution.”

Understanding dawns on Taehyung’s face as he processes what Yoongi is saying. “Oh! I guess I could have searched that on Naver for myself,” he says sheepishly.

Yoongi shrugs and takes a sip from his straw. “Probably.” He watches Taehyung chew on his lower lip. “But I’m glad I could help.”

Taehyung peers at Yoongi through the fringe of his hair, gauging how sincere his words are before letting a small smile spread across his lips. “Can I repay you with breakfast?”

“You cook?”

Silence remains for a beat. “Um. Not very well?”

Yoongi’s lips lift in a smirk on one side, and he throws out a lifeline. “Lucy’s in town makes a wonderful breakfast. We could just go there?”

Relief sweeps through Taehyung’s eyes, “My treat.” He starts backing down the hallway toward one of the open bedroom doors. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right out.”

The bell chimes loudly as the diner door swings open, and the two of them rush in out of the cold. As they stomp the snow from their shoes, Taehyung looks around the interior. “Oh!”

The town’s diner has quintessential 50s-themed decor and makes its best impression of a Lucille Ball shrine. Yoongi smirks, “Ahjumma is a fan.” Yoongi veers off to the right and slides into the third raised booth, settling into the vinyl seat.

Taehyung follows, “That is putting it mildly.” His eyes still bouncing around the restaurant as Yoongi sets the menu in front of him. Eventually, Taehyung pulls his gaze back to Yoongi, who has been sitting there watching him with an amused expression, “What?”

Yoongi shakes his head slightly, “I just haven’t had many opportunities to experience the places I’ve known my entire life through someone new.”

“So this has always been decorated like this?”

“Mhmm, though briefly, very briefly, she contemplated redecorating when she discovered Magnum P.I. Tom Selleck didn’t try hard enough to flip her in the end.”

Taehyung covers his mouth with his large palm, muffling his giggle as he listens to Yoongi’s story. The overhead light haloing his dark curls just right, Yoongi can’t help but stare and trace the way the harsh diner lights perfectly highlight the angles of Taehyung’s face.

“Yoongi-yah! Where have you been? You haven’t been visiting as often as you should be.”

Yoongi is snapped out of his reverie at the admonishment and looks as a petite beta in her early sixties sidles up to their table.

Taehyung’s eyes bounce back and forth between Yoongi and the newcomer. Yoongi’s lips screw to the side at the gentle scolding as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Aish, ajumma, I have been busy with the store.”

With a smack of her pad to his shoulder, “Nonsense! That store runs itself at this point. You can’t avoid him forever, you know?”

Taehyung’s brows lift slightly at that, wondering who they are talking about. Yoongi ducks his head, “I’m not avoiding him.”

“Could have fooled me.” She frowns at him for a moment more before turning to Taehyung with a bright smile, “Hello there! You’re new. I know everyone in this town; who are you?”

Taehyung blinks up at her a few times, “I’m Kim Taehyung, and this is my first time visiting your lovely establishment.”

“Of course it is. I would remember such a handsome face as yours. I’m Mrs. Kim.” Her brows furrow as she looks at Taehyung harder, “Any relation to the Kims out on Whale Drive?”

Taehyung nods, “They’re my grandparents. I’m taking care of their house as they transition to an assisted living facility.”

“No!”

“Yes, unfortunately, the house's upkeep just got a bit too much for them. I’m the only relative left, so here I am.” Yoongi listens to the exchange silently, processing this new information.

Mrs. Kim tsks under her breath. “You are a good grandson.” She pats his shoulder, “You keep me updated, okay?” Taehyung nods silently. “Good. Now, what can I get you?”

“Oh!” Taehyung’s eyes drop to the plastic menu before him and quickly scans it. He jabs his finger against the menu, “Dakjuk, please.” Mrs. Kim nods and swipes the menu from in front of him, quickly turning and leaving them again, the subtle hint of an apple orchard left behind by the beta.

“I di–”

“She–”

They both halt, looking at each other before Yoongi motions for Taehyung to go first.

“She didn’t take your order.”

“Mmm, ajumma brings me what she wants to feed me.”

Taehyung’s head tilts to the side, amused by the straightforward response. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Um, I didn’t know you were the Kim's grandson. They didn’t talk much about their family.”

Taehyung gives a wry smile, “Not much to talk about. It’s just me. I worked in Seoul and would visit when I could, which wasn’t often.”

“Wh-” Yoongi clears his throat, “When do you have to go back?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Don’t you have a job and a life to return to?”

“I quit. I couldn’t churn away at the machine any longer.”

“Okay, but what about your life in Seoul?”

“What life? I spent most of my time at work. I spent the little time I had outside of work with… someone who used to matter, but that’s in the past now.”

Yoongi blinks at him and can’t help the spark of curiosity flicking to life in his chest. “Why don’t they matter anymore?”

Taehyung gives the saddest smile Yoongi has ever seen, his gentle chamomile scent wilting a little, “I’ll tell mine when you tell yours.”

A plastic straw is shoved under Yoongi’s nose, capturing his attention. He sets down the guitar he is repairing and looks up to find Taehyung offering him an iced coffee with a boxy grin. “Hi, hyung!”

“Taehyung. What are you here for this time?” Yoongi sips through the straw, humming at the rich, bitter taste of coffee washing over his tongue. This has become a routine for them. For the past couple of weeks now, several days out of the week, Taehyung shows up with an iced coffee for Yoongi and the ploy that he just remembered that he needed to buy something he forgot.

Granted, Yoongi didn’t catch on that it was a ploy until Taehyung came in to purchase a single screwdriver, then the next day he was back to purchase a wrench, then a hammer… Yoongi had suggested he just buy a toolbox, but Taehyung had insisted that he didn’t need one and then proceeded to purchase a set of pliers. So now Yoongi just plays along with this little game just to see how far it will go.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels, the sweet aroma of chamomile swirling around him, and pulls the hand he was holding behind his back out in front of him, holding a small container of nails. “Just this for today.”

Yoongi blinks slowly at him, “Is your plan to buy every item in my store, one thing at a time? If this is your villain origin story, I gotta tell you it needs work.”

Taehyung grins mischievously, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he meets Yoongi's gaze. "Oh, you caught on to my evil plan already? I guess I'll have to devise a more diabolical scheme," he says playfully, his eyes twinkling with humor. "But for now, let's just stick to one item at a time. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

Yoongi tongues the inside of his cheek, amused, “So what are the nails for?”

Taehyung winks at Yoongi before turning his attention back to the container of nails, examining them with feigned seriousness. "These nails? They're special. You see, they're going to be the foundation of my grand master plan to take over the world... or maybe just build a really cool bookshelf. Haven't decided yet." Taehyung chuckles, enjoying the banter, and adds, "But seriously, I just thought it would be nice to have a reason to come back and see you again. Your store has this charm that's hard to resist."

“You caught me! You see, having a charming store is a side effect of my diabolical plan to lure in unsuspecting customers.” Yoongi smirks, leaning casually against the counter and crossing his arms. “If you’re going to keep showing up to buy one item at a time, you might as well come up with a convincing evil laugh. I mean, where’s the drama? The theatrics? You’re missing out on the full villain experience,” he adds with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Taehyung chuckles, "You've got a point. I guess I'll have to work on my evil laugh if I want to be a proper villain." He feigns a sinister chuckle, only to giggle a moment later. "Or maybe I'll stick to being the charming customer who keeps you on your toes." He takes a step closer, his playful expression turning into a more sincere smile. "Speaking of which, if you can handle my one-item-at-a-time takeover plan, how about we break the routine? How about you let me take you out for coffee or dinner sometime? I promise I won't make you sell me your entire inventory in one go." Taehyung winks, hoping the offer comes across as genuine and lighthearted.

Yoongi's eyes widen for a moment, surprised by the sudden turn of events, but then a small smirk plays on his lips. He tilts his head, considering Taehyung's proposition.

"Well, that's a plot twist I wasn't expecting in my villainous day." Yoongi chuckles, matching Taehyung's playful tone, the alpha’s warm and spicy scent spiking at the other man��s offer. With a thoughtful expression, he nods. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. But only if you promise to leave your world-domination plans at home for the night. When and where, villain?"

The omega’s lips spread into a boxy grin, “No promises on leaving the world domination plans at home, but I’ll try to keep them on a tight leash. How about dinner at Lucy’s tomorrow at 7 PM? I haven’t tasted ajumma’s dinner menu yet.”

Yoongi smirks, his interest piqued by Taehyung's choice. "Lucy's, huh? Ahjumma does work wonders in the kitchen, so I can't blame you for wanting to try it out. Dinner it is. And as for the world domination plans, I suppose a tight leash will have to do. We wouldn't want to scare the other diners away with our diabolical schemes." He winks playfully at Taehyung. "Alright then, partner in crime. Lucy's it is."

Yoongi chuckles, leaning onto the table, amused at Taehyung’s antics. His nose twitches pleasantly as it picks up the gentle scent of chamomile mixing with his cedar's warm, spicy aroma. He has only known the omega for a few weeks but feels utterly comfortable with the man.

The dinner date at Lucy’s has been going well; there’s laughter, good food, and engaging conversation. Ahjumma immediately started gushing over them when they stepped into the restaurant and realized that they were there on a date. The beta has been doting on them all night and seems to have curated a special menu for them on the fly.

“So, what’s the verdict on dinner at Lucy’s?” Yoongi asks as he gathers a spoonful of strawberry bingsu from their shared bowl.

Taehyung hums, swallowing his spoonful, “Honestly, it has not disappointed. Everything has been absolutely delicious. Lucy’s may just be my new favorite spot.”

Yoongi gives the other man a gummy smile, “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we should start a Lucy’s fan club.” Taehyung claps his hands together, giggling at the idea.

That laugh may be one of Yoongi’s new favorite sounds. He twirls his spoon in the frozen treat, pondering what else he can say to tease more of it out.

Taehyung’s eyes light up as ajumma steps out of the kitchen and quickly waves the older beta over. “How would you like your own personal fan club?”

“Made up of the two of you? I would be so lucky to have such handsome men devoted to me.” Her raspy chuckle mixes pleasantly with the omega’s huskier one.

“Then it’s decided. We are your devotees, ajumma!” Taehyung states brightly.

Yoongi’s cheeks ache as he watches the two of them tease each other. “The food was delicious. Thank you so much, ajumma, for making us such special treats,” Yoongi effuses. “I’ll take the check whenever you’re ready.”

She scoffs and brushes him off. “No, no. This is my treat.”

Yoongi shakes his head, protesting, “Yah, you can’t do that.”

She props her hands on her hips, “Yes, I can. If you insist, you can repay me by inviting me to the mating ceremony.”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at her words, and a similar blush is mirrored on Taehyung’s face. He clears his throat, “Um, well, thank you.”

She pats his shoulder and bids them both goodbye before bustling over to another table.

“I guess we weren’t the only ones to feel a connection then?” Taehyung quips, breaking the tension.

Yoongi’s eyes meet Taehyung’s warm brown ones, a soft smile playing across his lips, “I guess so. Want to get out of here?”

They slide out of the booth, Yoongi leading them out of the diner. Taehyung sidles up next to him as they step out onto the sidewalk. They linger there, the fresh air tinged with their anticipation of what could happen next.

There’s a palpable tension in the air, and neither are quite ready to say goodnight. They stand there, smiling at each other, the air charged with unspoken words. The small town has quieted down significantly in the evening hours, and in that moment, it feels like they are in a bubble all their own.

Yoongi clears his throat, “Listen, would you like a ride home?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Taehyung demures.

“Nonsense. It’s late. Let me give you a lift. I promise I don’t mind.”

Taehyung caves and agrees. They walk down the street, arms brushing each other with each step. Once they reach his truck, Yoongi rushes ahead a little to open the passenger door, holding it open for the omega.

Taehyung pauses briefly at the gesture, a tiny smile on his lips. “Thank you.” He brushes his fingers across the back of Yoongi’s hand as he slides into the cab.

Yoongi circles around the hood and climbs in on the other side. The drive to Taehyung’s house is silent. The quiet intimacy of the ride contrasts with the lively energy of their date.

As they reach Taehyung’s place, neither seems in a rush to part ways. The conversation becomes a bit more subdued, a mixture of shared laughter and more serious reflections on life.

Taehyung tilts his head against the headrest and sighs. “I should probably head inside. I had a great time tonight, Yoongi.”

“Me too, Tae.” A beat passes before Yoongi starts, “Oh–”

The omega’s hand covers the back of his own. “It’s okay. You can call me Tae.”

A tension eases out of Yoongi, and he flips his hand over, lacing their fingers together. “So, uh, maybe we can do this again? Another dinner, perhaps?”

Smiling, Tae leans closer, “I’d really like that, hyung.”

Their scents intermingle, adding to the intimacy of the moment. The soft glow from a nearby streetlamp casts a warm halo, illuminating the anticipation in Taehyung’s eyes. Yoongi feels a pull and leans in closer, too.

Yoongi’s fingers find their way to the side of the other man’s neck, his touch gentle yet firm. The warmth of his thumb tracing the line of Taehyung’s jaw. “Tae,” he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Taehyung’s response is a quick, eager nod. The warmth of his breath against Yoongi’s lips is a silent affirmation, and the tension between them escalates as the distance between them disappears. Their lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, a blend of warmth and sweetness that speaks of unspoken desires.

As their kiss deepens, the world around them fades into the background, leaving only their shared connection. Time seems to stand still in that moment, the quiet acknowledgment of something new and exciting unfolding between them.

The kiss lingers, a promise of the possibilities ahead, and when they finally pull away, their eyes meet with a newfound understanding. They share a smile and bask in the wonder of the start of something beautiful.

It’s been a few weeks, and each day gets better. The initial spark from their first date has developed into a deeper connection. Yoongi marvels that in such a short amount of time, the sweet omega has become a staple in his life. Their days are intertwined with laughter, shared secrets, and a growing sense of intimacy.

Their routine is filled with moments, both ordinary and extraordinary. From lazy Sunday afternoons spent cuddling on the couch, exchanging soft kisses, and recounting the week's events to more adventurous endeavors like taking Taehyung ice skating for the first time at the local rink. Yoongi feels a sense of completeness in Taehyung’s company.

Their late-night conversations have become a cherished ritual; the quiet vulnerability shared in those moments is strengthening the bond that formed all those weeks ago. Taehyung has become Yoongi’s confidante, a source of comfort, and a partner in the beautiful dance of their blossoming relationship.

Yoongi sets down the box he brought back from the stock room as he hears his phone ring on the counter. His lips curl into a smile, his chest filling with warmth as he sees Tae’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey! Did you miss me already? We just had lunch an hour ago.” The alpha teases, the memory of their shared meal flashing in his mind.

“Hyung! Oh my god, you won’t believe what’s happening!” The panicked sound echoing through the receiver has Yoongi straightening from where he was slumped against the counter in alarm.

“What’s going on, Tae?”

“There’s water everywhere! I think there’s a leak under the kitchen sink. It’s like a waterfall in here.”

Even alone, Yoongi can’t help but release calming pheromones wanting to comfort the omega. “Okay, calm down. Do you know where your main water valve is?”

Tae’s frantic voice comes through even higher pitched. “No! I don’t know where that is. Everything is wet, and I’m freaking out. How do I make it stop?”

“Baby, it’s going to be okay. Do you know where your water heater is?”

“Um, um,” Taehyung stutters furiously, trying to remember the layout of the house. “I think so.”

“That’s good. Go to the water heater, and I’ll tell you what to do once you get there.”

Yoongi listens to Tae rush through the house, his breath coming in fast pants. “I’m here! I’m here! What do I do?”

“Do you see a valve anywhere?”

“Is it the handle near the back, halfway up the wall?”

“Yes! Right now, it should be sticking out perpendicular to the pipe. Turn it until it's parallel to the pipe.”

He listens to Taehyung fumble a bit before his voice returns through the phone. “Okay, I turned it. What now?”

“That should have turned the water off. Go and check to see if that stopped it.”

Yoongi listens to the omega rush back through the house. His voice this time is a bit calmer in relief, “It sounds like the water has stopped.” He whines loudly, “There is water everywhere, though, and it’s still spreading.”

Yoongi chuckles, his own energy calming at Taehyung’s relief. “But the main problem is done. Grab some towels, or whatever you have that is absorbent to help contain the mess. Crisis averted.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Well, now that we’ve conquered the great kitchen flood of 2023, maybe I should come over and check on what went wrong,” Yoongi teases.

Taehyung’s warm laugh sends shivers over Yoongi. “You’re always welcome, especially if you come with your toolbox.”

“Let me close the store, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

That’s how, on a late Friday afternoon, Yoongi finds himself at Taehyung’s house with his head underneath the kitchen sink.

Taehyung sits on the kitchen counter, watching anxiously. “So what happened? Why did my kitchen become a lake?”

Yoongi’s voice is a little echo-y as it reverberates around the hollow space, “Your pipe burst. I think water froze inside it when the temperature dropped and caused it to burst. Unfortunately, it just looks like your pipes are old, and time took its toll.”

Taehyung hangs his head, groaning. “Old pipes, huh? I never thought they’d give up on me like this.”

“It happens. Especially with the winter chill, but hey, the good news is we caught it early, and it could have been much worse.” Yoongi continues to work, his hands deftly maneuvering to fix the problem.

“How do you even know what you are doing?” Taehyung asks curiously.

Yoongi chuckles, “Years of being a responsible adult, Tae. You pick up a thing or two.”

Playfully, Taehyung quips, “I guess I should add ‘adulting’ to my list of skills to brush up on.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ll get the hang of it eventually,” Yoongi tosses back. He tinkers silently for a few minutes before adding, “You know, dealing with home emergencies together is practically a relationship milestone.”

Taehyung hums, “Is that so?”

“I think so. I’ll take any excuse to spend more time with you.”

Yoongi can’t see the other man’s blush, but he smells the spike in the omega’s chamomile scent. It distracts him just enough that he wrenches a pipe a little too hard, sending the water remaining in the pipe straight onto him.

“Shit!” He gasps, jerking out from under the sink, and wipes at his face. He clamors to his feet, his white shirt soaked with stale pipe water.

The omega’s eyes widen as he hops off the counter, rushing over to the alpha. Taehyung’s scent sours as, in a flurry of motions, he pulls at Yoongi’s shirt until it is yanked over his head.

Before Yoongi knows it, he is standing shirtless under the fluorescent glare of the kitchen light—the bright light casting shadows in the dips and hollows of his bare chest. The wet fabric of his shirt hangs limply in the other man’s fist as they both pause.

Taehyung’s lips part on his next exhale as his eyes flicker over the vast expanse of bare skin that is exposed. A new tension fills the air as the previous sharp scent from the omega softens and sweetens, Yoongi’s own scent growing fresher to mix with the omega’s. A beat passes with them both frozen, only inches separating them.

Between one breath and the next, the two collide. The sodden fabric slips through Taehyung’s fingers, landing on the cool tile floor with a wet slap. Swiftly, the omega trades the clammy chill of the wet cloth for the comforting warmth and silkiness of the alpha’s exposed skin. As Yoongi’s hands assertively find their place on Taehyung’s hips, he effortlessly pulls the other man closer while Taehyung’s large palms tenderly encircle Yoongi’s shoulders.

Their lips hover closer, breath buffeting against parted lips. Even at this distance, Yoongi’s eyes search the other’s, seeking acceptance before crashing his lips against the omega’s. Taehyung’s arms circle the alpha tighter, sealing their lips together in a searing kiss.

A deep purr resonates through the alpha’s chest as he tilts his head, sliding their lips against each other. The rest of the world falls away as the building tension ebbs and flows around them. Taehyung rocks his hips forward, lips parting with a moan when he feels Yoongi’s growing length pressed against him.

Taking advantage of the opening, Yoongi presses forward, his tongue sweeping into the other man’s mouth. His own groan echoes as the omega’s sweet, floral chamomile scent washes over his palette. He doesn’t want to stop; he feels like he could kiss Taehyung forever.

As moments have seamlessly slipped away, the kitchen now holds a rich tapestry of their mingling scents. The air is saturated with the delicate freshness of chamomile, gracefully intertwining with the warm and subtly spiced essence of cedar. It blankets them comfortingly, a testament to their undeniable chemistry. Both men feel drawn inextricably to each other.

The air is thick with unspoken words, each touch and movement communicating more than language ever could. Yoongi’s hands, with firm pressure, run over Taehyung’s hips and lower back; his long fingers teasing lightly over the omega’s ass. They cling to each other even as they pull back, silently rubbing their noses along each other.

Taehyung rocks his hips forward again, his eyelids fluttering at the long, thick press of the alpha between them. His own body responding in kind and leaking into his briefs, the sweet, honeyed scent of slick tinging the air. The deep timbre of his voice breaks the silent tension in the air, “Please.”

Yoongi’s eyes darken at the omega’s whimper. “Please, what?”

Taehyung’s scent spikes, running his lip between his teeth as he meets Yoongi’s gaze before breathing, “Please, alpha.”

A wicked smile pulls at Yoogi’s lips, his hands sliding down and palming the round globes of the omega’s ass, pulling them tighter against each other. The kitchen fills with the sound of their lips smacking together as they crash back against the counter. The sharp edge digs into the omega’s back, causing him to whine into the alpha’s mouth.

Yoongi grips his ass and lifts, sliding Taehyung onto the countertop, their lips never parting. Taehyung’s hands slide down Yoongi’s chest until they reach the dark pinkish-brown nipples gracing his pecs. Taehyung slides his mouth away, grazing his teeth along the other’s jaw as he flicks the nubs.

Yoongi groans, digging his fingers into the omega’s hips. His head tips backward as pleasure zings down his spine. Taehyung chuckles, “Someone’s sensitive.”

The alpha’s head snaps upright, eyes sparking, “Two can play at this game.” Yoongi yanks Taehyung forward, pressing tighter in between his spread thighs. Their clothed cocks grinding against each other. It’s Taehyung’s turn to hang his head, moaning as the air thickens with the sweet scent of his slick. “You were saying?” Yoongi’s breath brushes the shell of the other’s ear.

Tae’s lustful gaze returns to Yoongi’s, “I’m saying that I need you, alpha.” Taehyung’s hands caress down the expanse of Yoongi’s abs until his fingers tease the man’s waistband, thumbing the button. A subtle nod from Yoongi has the man undoing the button snap and sliding down the zipper. Another groan is pulled from the alpha as the pressure around his cock eases.

The relief is only temporary because soon, the restrictive confines of his jeans is replaced with the firm clasp of Taehyung’s palm. Yoongi snaps his hips forward into the omega’s tight grip, the slide eased by his eagerly leaking tip. Taehyung mouths at the alpha’s neck, his tongue teasing in tight circles and nipping at his fair skin, marking him up.

The omega’s fist tightens as he speeds up his strokes, his wrist snapping at the height of each stroke. Yoongi’s fingers flex on Taehyung’s thighs as he moans louder. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung leaves a particular stinging nip along Yoongi’s neck. “Are you going to come for me?” He speeds up his strokes, the alpha’s hips snapping into the warm clasp. Taehyung’s other hand slides down to encircle the alpha’s base, his fist gripping firmly as the knot forms at the base of Yoongi’s cock.

Taehyung trails his lips back up the other’s neck, reaching Yoongi’s ear. He swirls his tongue around the lobe before sucking it into his mouth.

“Ahhhhh—” Yoongi cries out, hips stuttering as his length jerks in the omega’s fist, coating it in sticky, warm wetness. The omega presses gentle kisses to Yoongi’s neck, coaxing him down from his high. Yoongi slumps into the man’s arms, panting.

Yoongi nuzzles into Taehyung’s neck, inhaling the omega’s sweet scent but being cautious to avoid the scent gland. He works to regulate his breathing as the Taehyung’s grip on his knot remains steady. Only a few minutes pass before he’s trailing his lips along the dark caramel expanse of skin until he reaches Taehyung’s lips. Their lips gently move together, Yoongi’s high dissipating.

“Mmm, darling, you were so good for me.” Taehyung slips his hands from between them, his skin coated in the alpha’s pleasure. Eyeing him boldly, the omega slips two messy fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them until they are sucked clean.

The alpha’s nostrils flare at the bold gesture. He curls his fingers into the waistband of Taehyung’s jeans and yanks him forward, letting the younger man teeter on the edge for a moment before sliding him to his feet. “Someone made a mess,” his raspy voice filters between them.

Taehyung grins cheekily, reaching for the kitchen towel to clean the mess on his hands, “A delicious one.”

Yoongi’s thumb deftly releases the fastening of Taehyung’s pants, their lips crashing together again. The kiss is messy and deep, the omega whining into his mouth. Yoongi pulls back, sliding his lips down the omega’s neck. “That is not really how I saw that going.”

“Mmmm,” Tae murmurs, head leaning back, “It’s okay. I liked making you feel good.”

Yoongi leaves a stinging kiss at the base of Taehyung’s neck before pulling back. “Well, let me make you feel good now.” Yoongi slips Taehyung’s pants open and works the jeans down his hips. The heady aroma of the omega’s slick wafts between them as they're pushed down toward the floor. Yoongi’s eyes flutter close as he inhales deeply, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest.

Yoongi yanks harder, ripping the jeans off of the other man, taking his soaked briefs with them. Taehyung’s cock springs out, slapping up against his belly. Slick dripping down the omega’s thighs in thick lines.

Yoongi’s eyes are sharp as he takes in the wanton man before him. He shifts onto his knees, his long, knobby fingers trailing down his legs until they grip his thighs. Yoongi leans in, nostrils flaring as he breathes deep to soak in the addicting scent of the aroused omega. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the bare hip before him. His hands move around to cup the back of Taehyung’s knees, lifting one at a time to pull the pooled cloth from around his ankles.

The omega leans back against the counter, his fingers gripping the granite edge to steady him. His eyes are hooded as he looks down the length of his own body and watches as the alpha shifts one of his legs to rest on his shoulder.

The alpha trails stinging kisses up the inside of the omega’s thighs until his face nuzzles against Tae’s hard, straining cock. Yoongi swirls his tongue around the thick base of Taehyung’s cock, before leaving a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses up the length until he can circle his tongue around the leaking tip.

Taehyung sucks in a sharp inhale as his hips buck, pushing the leaking tip into the alpha’s mouth. Yoongi jerks his head back, tsking the omega under his breath. “Uh-uh. Who said you could do that?”

The omega’s cheeks flush with the admonishment, “Sorry, alpha.”

“Patience, baby.” Yoongi strokes his hard length with one hand as his other hand slips behind the omega to ease between wet cheeks. At the feel of his trembling rim, Yoongi moans deep in his chest, feeling how soaked Taehyung is. His extended finger circles, teasing the man’s hole. Yoongi slips Taehyung into his mouth as he simultaneously pushes one digit into the omega’s tight hole.

Curling his tongue around Taehyung’s leaking tip, Yoongi pumps his finger deeper. He teases the omega, pulling more syrupy, slick, and evocative sounds from the man above him. Soon, Yoongi is three fingers deep and is sliding Taehyung’s length in and out of his throat.

Taehyung’s head is thrown back, moaning to the ceiling. He buries his hands into the alpha’s hair as he tugs and pushes at his head. Pleasure surges through him. “Fuck…fuck, alpha! You’re making me feel so good.”

Yoongi hums around the girth stretching his throat, and sucks harder, swallowing around Taehyung’s cock. Yoongi’s slick-soaked hand scissors his fingers before surging deeper, targeting that spot deep inside the omega.

Taehyung’s eyes leak as he cries out, back arching as he comes down Yoongi’s throat. His cock spasms over and over as he is drained dry. Yoongi swallows every last drop and slowly pulls back, licking the omega clean as he goes.

Taehyung slumps against the counter, his arms trembling to hold him as he comes down from his high. Yoongi hums, pressing soft kisses along the other’s hip, gently slipping his fingers from inside him. He soothingly rubs the omega’s thigh as his other fingers slip inside his mouth to lick his fingers clean. Yoongi’s eyes flutter as the omega’s taste bursts across his tongue.

Taehyung takes a loud shuddering breath, “That…was unexpected.”

Yoongi presses his lips to the inside of the omega’s thigh, hiding his smile, “The best things usually are.”

Taehyung looks down at the alpha still kneeling in front of him, and cups the man’s cheek. “Yoongi, I need you to know…” he pauses, swallowing hard. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Yoongi leans into the warm touch, smiling as Tae’s thumb strokes across his cheek, “Tae, neither have I. But it feels right, doesn’t it?”

He slides the fingers of his other hand through the alpha’s soft black strands, “It does. It feels more than right; it feels like…home.”

The alpha’s eyes shutter, rolling his mouth to press the softest of kisses to his palm. “Yeah, it does.” Silence settles over them. The two let the intimacy of the moment and the weight of their words sink in.

“What does this mean for us?” Tae’s words are soft as they’re whispered into the silence.

Yoongi’s head tilts back to meet the deep brown eyes of the man he’s quickly falling for, “I don’t have all the answers, but I want to figure it out with you. Do you want the same?”

“I want us. Whatever that means.”

“Me too,” Yoongi breathes.

Their shared gaze is filled with an unspoken understanding that defines the moment they just had. They don’t know what is in store but are committed to exploring it together.

In the days that follow, Taehyung and Yoongi find themselves navigating the delicate waters of a burgeoning relationship. The small town, adorned with holiday decorations, adds an extra layer of magic to their newfound connection.

One chilly evening, as snowflakes gently descend from the sky, they stroll hand in hand through the twinkling lights of the town square. The air is crisp, filled with the festive scent of pine and the distant sounds of holiday carols.

Taehyung can’t contain the smile stretching his lips, “I can’t believe how beautiful this town is during the holidays.”

The omega’s boxy grin brings forth Yoongi’s own gummy smile. “It’s like something out of a storybook.”

Their fingers intertwine as they wander through the town’s festive markets, sampling sweet treats and sipping hot cocoa. The cozy warmth of the holiday atmosphere mirrors the growing warmth between them.

As they stroll through the markets, Taehyung feels a surge of emotion in his chest. The twinkling lights, the laughter around them, and the shared moments with Yoongi paint a picture of a perfect holiday season.

Tae tugs on their clasped hands, pulling them out of the flow of pedestrians. They step into a small alcove in front of a closed storefront. “Yoongi, you know, I’ve been thinking…”

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Yoongi gently encourages when the other pauses.

“Well, with Christmas just around the corner, I was wondering if… maybe you’d like to spend it with me?” The last part of the sentence said in a rush of one breath.

Yoongi’s lips part on a caught breath, his eyes softening fondly. “You’re inviting me to spend Christmas with you?”

Taehyung bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, I know it’s a bit last-minute, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share the holiday with.”

Yoongi steps closer, closing the space between them. The market fades away as the alpha looks at the omega with fondness. “Tae, I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”

The omega launches himself at Yoongi, his heart swelling with happiness. Their lips press together, the two filled with joy at the promised festivities. The lights around them seem to glow brighter as they lose themselves in each other.

As Christmas approaches, they find themselves caught up in the whirlwind of preparations. From decorating a small tree in Taehyung’s living room to sharing quiet moments by the fireplace, the holiday spirit seems to amplify their connection.

Yoongi places a handmade ornament on the tree. “This is nice. Really nice.”

Taehyung hums, “It is. And it’s only our first Christmas together.”

“I never thought decorating a tree could be this enjoyable.”

“It’s the company that makes it special,” Taehyung smiles.

Yoongi tilts his head in agreement. “These ornaments are beautiful, Tae.”

“It’s a tradition in my family. Each ornament tells a story. Now, these ornaments are a part of ours.”

Silence settles over them as they finish decorating and settle in front of the roaring fire. The glow of the tree haloing them in soft light as they cuddle under a shared blanket and admire their handiwork.

Each day is filled with a sweet memory; before they realize it, it’s Christmas Eve. That day, a light snowfall has dusted the town in a soft blanket of white. They sit before a roaring fire and exchange thoughtful gifts as laughter fills the room.

After their shared candle-lit dinner, they move to the porch and watch the slow drifting of the falling snow. The silence blankets them.

They stand like that in a drawn-out moment before Yoongi turns his head, nestling his lips into Tae’s soft, brown curls on the side of his head. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Taehyung leans into the alpha’s hold, “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

Under the winter sky, they share a tender kiss. A promise of more shared moments and the magic of the holidays weaving together to create another beautiful memory.

Epilogue - One year later

Yoongi scrunches his face and burrows deeper into his pillow, clinging to the last vestiges of slumber. The featherlight brush of lips along his bare shoulder isn’t deterred and continues its path across his shoulder and up his neck. Their trek slows to a stop behind his ear, settling there and pressing further into the space. Yoongi’s fingers tangle into the sheet as the pressure of those lips increases, sucking and pulling Yoongi out of sleep with a whine.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Taehyung whispers in his ear in a deep voice. Yoongi sinks back into Taehyung as the younger man wraps his arm around him, their fingers tangling together.

“Hmm, why are we awake?” Yoongi grumbles, eyes still closed.

Taehyung’s arm tightens around Yoongi, “I don’t think we should sleep away our second Christmas together.” Taehyung pats his chest one more time before pulling away with a kiss on his cheek. “Hurry up and meet me downstairs.”

He cards his hand through the wet strands of his hair as he lumbers down the wide staircase. Pausing at the base, nose rising in the air, sniffing out the delicious aroma of syrupy pancakes and crispy bacon. He lets his nose lead him toward the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the spread before him.

"How?”

Taehyung spins around, grinning, "Merry Christmas!”

Youngi's eyes bounce from one food-laden dish to the next. Confusion swirls through him, and while he had been teaching the omega how to cook, there's no way he had improved enough to make all of this.

Still dumbfounded, Yoongi accepts the champagne flute of mimosa from his love. He eventually pulls his gaze from the pile of food and stares at his love in awe.

"When did you make all of this? I was only in the shower for like 20 minutes.”

The words barely finish passing his lips when the other man doubles over, giggling uncontrollably. Yoongi just watches on, bemused.

After several moments, Tae regains control of himself and straightens.

Eyes still sparkling with laughter, his scent ethereal and wafting around them, Tae manages to answer. "Oh god, I wanted to fool you so bad, but I can't. You know I'm ajumma's favorite, and I wanted our second Christmas to be special. So why not have food from our favorite place?”

Yoongi remains frozen for a moment, then sweeps the omega into his arms. He kisses Taehyung soundly before resting their foreheads together. “My every day is special with you.”

#taegi fic #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bangtanwhq #bts fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bts #bts ff #min yoongi #kim taehyung #taegi #omegaverse #a/b/o #bts fluff #fluff

22 notes · View notes

btschooseafic · 5 months

Text

Scared of Love (in a coffee shop)

Pairing: ot7, ot6 x jungkook

Details: jungkook centric, a/b/o dynamics, coffee shop au, soulmates au

Summary: Jungkook loses his job and gains a new one.

Warnings: implied mpreg (not jk), attempted assault

Masterlist

***

Jungkook was towards the end of his shift when he caught the posturing alpha scent. It broke through the bar’s typical alcohol and sweat smells. He scanned the crowd as he finished making the drink he was working on, placing it front of the customer with a tense smile.

There was a man looming over a girl in the corner.

Jungkook moved over to them. “Everything okay here?” He called out, over the many conversations in the room.

“We’re fine,” the man said, barely glancing at him. The girl’s body was frozen stiff, but her wide eyes flickered to meet Jungkook’s.

Jungkook frowned. “Give her some space.”

“What?” Now the man turned to look at Jungkook, gritting his teeth, lip pulled back in a partial snarl. “This is none of your business, man. Back off.”

“You’re the one who should back off,” Jungkook thought aloud. “She clearly wants nothing to do with you.”

The man smirked. “She never said anything.”

The girl opened and closed her mouth, eyes still locked on Jungkook, gaze turning pleading. The man leaned his palm on the wall behind her, pinning her there. She whimpered. He laughed and the sour scent of terrified omega curled into the air.

“That’s it.” Jungkook came out from behind the bar and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him away from her.

“What the fuck!”

Jungkook twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him towards the entrance. Minho was working the door tonight.

“Keep him out of here, he’s scaring omegas!” Jungkook told the bouncer.

Minho nodded, grabbing the protesting alpha.

“You’ll regret that!” The alpha shouted after Jungkook as he moved back inside.

The girl was still in the corner. “You okay?” Jungkook asked. “Are you here alone?” She shook her head.

“My… my friends went to the bathroom. I went to get drinks, and…” She swallowed. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Jungkook grimaced. “That sucks. I’m sorry you were made to feel unsafe here.”

She shrugged. “I’m… it happens. I wish I was better at…” She sighed. “Thank you.”

Jungkook waited with her until her friends came back. They immediately wrapped their arms around her and offered to get a cab together.

Most of the customers left in the next hour, Minho shepherding any stragglers out the door with a firm hand and a tough look.

After he finished cleaning, Jungkook started the walk home.

It was early morning. The streets were mostly empty.

Jungkook sped up when the back of his neck prickled, like he was being watched.

Before he could react, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby alleyway. There was a loud rip as his jacket tore. It hung off his arm. Jungkook’s back slammed into the wall. He couldn’t breath.

“I told you you’d regret it.” It was the man from earlier, sneering down at him.

Jungkook gulped in air.

“I don’t,” Jungkook told him truthfully. Even if this alpha beat him up, he didn’t regret helping that girl earlier. She didn’t deserve this man invading her personal space like that.

The man’s brow furrowed. He leaned in and sniffed at Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook squirmed, trying to protect his scent glands. It was too late. The man laughed. Jungkook’s scent blockers must have worn off. They were a cheap brand that he frequently sweated off during his longer shifts.

“Omega,” he cooed. “Were you jealous? You wanted me to pay attention to you instead of her?”

Jungkook’s face twisted in disgust. “You’re delusional.” He tried to twist out of the man’s hold again.

“You’re too worked up,” the man told him. “Let me help you calm down.” He reached for the back of Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook bit his hand. The man growled and reeled back. Jungkook kneed him between the legs. The man howled and crouched down, curling in on himself. Jungkook took off at a run.

Maybe that was a mistake.

Alphas like that liked a chase.

Jungkook ran with the man on his tail for several blocks. Then he saw a crowd of people coming out of a nearby club.

He wove his way into the crowd, hoping the mixture of scents would hide his. Club goers frequently wore strong scent blockers or perfumes so they could enjoy their night without dynamics interfering. Jungkook caught a strong fruity scent and moved closer to it. He saw the man pause at the end of the block, raising his head to sniff.

“Are you being chased?”

Jungkook flinched, turning to the strawberry-scented man who addressed him. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was very handsome, dark fluffy hair contrasted with his bright red jacket. His arm was slung over the shoulder of a shorter man, who was also incredibly good looking.

Jungkook nodded, still catching his breath.

“For fun, or an unwanted suitor?” The shorter man asked. Jungkook stared, still a little startled by how good looking the two men were. In his job, he saw a lot of people dressed their best on a night out, but he never seen anyone look so good in a plain white t-shirt. The shirt’s wide neck line showed off several mating marks. Jungkook pouted slightly—of course such a pretty man already had mates.

The man was still looking at him expectantly.

“He’s a bully,” Jungkook explained. “I wasn’t… I’m sorry I’m hiding behind you.” He glanced back at the end of the block. The man was gone. Jungkook sighed in relief. “Looks like he’s gone. I’ll leave—“

“Better stay for another couple of minutes. Make sure he’s really gone.” The man in the red jacket leaned closer to whisper to Jungkook. Jungkook breathed in the strawberry perfume, the sweetness making him dizzy. He wondered how it would mix with the man’s natural scent. “What?” The man raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tae!” The shorter man smacked his hand. “Give him some space.”

“Sorry.” Tae straightened up, smiling sheepishly.

“It’s okay…” Jungkook mumbled. He listened to the two men (mates?) bicker for a few more minutes before he turned to leave.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay getting home?” The man in the white shirt asked him concernedly. Jungkook nodded. “Well… okay, stay safe.”

When he got home, Jungkook scrubbed his skin hard to get rid of the feeling of that man looming over him. He was a little disappointed when the strawberry scent disappeared as well.

Jungkook woke later that afternoon, a little sore and bruised, but otherwise fine. He frowned at the tear on his favorite coat for a while before cooking something to eat. Before long it was early evening, time to head to work.

“You’re fired,” Jungkook’s boss said. Jungkook stared at him.

“What?”

“A customer came to me this morning, told me you attacked him, unprovoked, showed me the bite mark on his hand.”

“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Jungkook snapped. “He attacked me first—and he was harassing another customer!”

“I didn’t hear anything about that, just that you attacked someone,” his boss said. He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter who started it, the customer is always right.” Jungkook lowered his head, trying to think about whether to curse his boss out, or beg for his job back. He needed the money, but at what point did this job stop being worth it? “It’s nothing personal, but I’m running a business here.” He clapped Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook tensed at his touch. “I’ve got to make the tough decisions sometimes.”

Ten minutes later, Jungkook sat on the curb outside the bar, Minho standing beside him, watching him in quiet concern.

“Oh.”

Jungkook looked up, seeing the girl from last night. She smiled hesitantly at him.

He nodded at her. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping to find you here. I wanted to thank you, again, for last night.”

Minho squinted at her. “This is the girl that creep from last night was bothering?” He asked. Jungkook nodded. “Maybe she could talk to the boss, get him to give you your job back.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You lost your job?”

Jungkook nodded again. “Our ‘friend’ decided to drag me into a dark alley. I defended myself. He complained to my boss, so I lost my job.”

The girl frowned. “That’s ridiculous!”

Jungkook shrugged. “I think I’m done working here anyway. It sucks.” He glanced back at Minho. “No offense.”

Minho snorted. “None taken.”

“So… you don’t want me to try and help you get your job back?” The girl asked. Jungkook shook his head.

“The job search will be hell, but it’ll still be better than this.”

The girl bit her lip. “What if… what if I know a job you could go for?”

“Really?” Jungkook smiled. “That would be great!” He had already been dreading the process of touching up his resume. He hadn’t touched his portfolio since he left his apprenticeship. Unless his arm counted as an example of his work? He tilted his head. “What kind of job?”

Jungkook spent the rest of the night pacing in his apartment. He tried to settle down in his nest, but his nerves wouldn’t let him. He’d counted and recounted his savings, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay his rent and send hyung money. He needed this job. Hopefully the meeting tomorrow morning would go well.

Jin’s Cafe had the name Jin written over and over again on the window. Jungkook frowned, imagining a self-centered manager who wouldn’t be much better than his last.

“They’re really nice,” the girl said, as if she was reading his mind. “I promise.”

The sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed,’ but the girl punched a code into the keypad and opened the door.

The cafe smelled nice. There were the usual coffee and pastry smells, but also a fresh green scent, like a garden. The room was filled with shelves of books, records, and plants. Curving green vines ran under everything from trot to hip hop.

A man was restocking one of the shelves. He turned as they walked in, eyes widening slightly.

“Jiwoo-yah, you’re early. Your shift doesn’t start until later.”

“I know.” She smiled at him. “But, I actually wanted to introduce someone to you. You know how you said you could still use another employee?” She motioned at Jungkook.

“Hello.” Jungkook bowed slightly. “I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“Min Yoongi.” Yoongi dipped his head. “I’m one of the managers here at Jin’s Cafe. Are you open to a casual interview, Jungkook-ssi?”

“Sure.”

“Jiwoo, have you eaten yet?” Yoongi asked her. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and get some breakfast from hyung? He’s got a new matcha toast he’s trying out.” Jungkook perked up. Yoongi grinned. “Ah. Bring one out for Jungkook-ssi as well.”

“Oh, no, no.” Jungkook shook his head. “It’s fine. I was just… curious.”

“Jin-hyung loves testing his food out on unsuspecting guests,” Yoongi told him, waving Jiwoo along. “So, Jungkook-ssi, do you have any experience working as a barista?”

Jungkook nodded. “I did work in a coffee shop during school.”

Jungkook waited for Yoongi to ask what he went to school for, but instead he asked, “Did you enjoy working there?”

Jungkook smiled. “Yeah. The manager was nice. And good at baking! She made these really good banana nut muffins I always used my employee discount on.”

“Do you have any interest in books, or plants, or music?” Yoongi asked. “We sell all three, so it’s good to know a little about them.”

“Well, I don’t know read much, and I don’t know anything about plants, but I do like listening to music,” Jungkook told him honestly. He and Yoongi talked about what kind of music they liked to listen to until Jiwoo came out again with a plate for Jungkook. The matcha toast was pretty, the green spread contrasting nicely with a neat row of strawberries on top.

“It’s yummy,” Jiwoo said. “Have some.”

“But don’t praise it too much, or hyung’s head will get too big,” Yoongi added. Jungkook actually lost his ability to talk for a moment, savoring the flavors mixing in his mouth. He let out a few appreciative noises. Yoongi frowned. “You don’t have to keeping eating it if you don’t like it.”

“What?” Jungkook frowned back at him. “But, it’s so good.”

“But your face is so angry!” Jiwoo protested.

“Oh…” Jungkook scratched the side of his face. “That’s just… how I look when I enjoy things.”

Yoongi grinned. “How cute.”

Jungkook flushed. “I…”

“You have green on your mouth,” Jiwoo told him. Jungkook groaned as she handed him a napkin. Yoongi was still smiling.

“Jungkook-ssi, how would you feel about starting on a trial basis?” He asked. “You haven’t met the rest of us yet, so I’d like to see how we all get along first, but I like what I’m hearing from you so far.”

“That would be great.” Jungkook bowed again. “Please take care of me.”

“No need to be so formal,” Yoongi said. “How old are you? Call me hyung.”

Jiwoo, as it turned out, was Jungkook’s same-age friend. She dropped formalities quickly, complimenting the purple tips of Jungkook’s hair as she walked him through how to use the espresso machine. Jungkook liked how she filled any silences with cheerful chatter before they could get awkward.

As soon as she finished running him through the sales system, Yoongi shooed him out the door.

“I wouldn’t start you on the morning rush for you first shift!” Yoongi said. “Are you free later tonight? We can introduce you to the rest of the guys and show you how to close up.”

“That sounds good, hyung.”

Jungkook walked home with a little spring to his step. He saw his brother had texted him, asking if he’d be available for a video chat with Seoyeon soon. Jungkook settled down in his nest, hugging the plush rabbit that Seoyeon had sent him from his last birthday. She had a matching one, “So when I hug my bunny, you hug yours, and it’s like we’re hugging each other, samchon!”

Junghyun answered after the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“What? Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you? You texted me earlier.”

“Yeah, but you hardly ever respond to my texts. Usually, I have to get Seoyeon to lure you in if I want a response.”

Jungkook pouted. “That’s not true.”

“…Sure. So, what’s up?”

“Well, don’t freak out, but I got fired.”

“…Jungkook.”

“It’s fine! Totally fine! I didn’t like that job much anyway, and anyways, I got a new job already!” Jungkook didn’t tell Junghyun why he’d gotten fired, but he told him all about Jiwoo and Yoongi and how nice they were being to him.

“It really sounds like you could get along with them well,” Junghyun thought. Jungkook hummed in agreement. “I’m happy for you.”

Jungkook usually got along with coworkers, but he had never been too close to any of them. Jiwoo and Yoongi seemed like people he wouldn’t mind spending time with even outside of work.

“I’m excited,” he admitted. “I hope it all works out.”

#bts fanfiction #member x member #ot7 #ot7 x ot7 #ot6 x jungkoook #jungkook x ot6 #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #soulmates au #coffee shop au #jungkook centric #polyam

22 notes · View notes

jikookao3recs · 2 years

Text

my favourite one shots

Learning Curve by Rozoir

Cherry Wine by serendiplini

Constraint by Harlot

baby, love me hard and hold me tight by MyHope (CutesyMe)

Glass Diamonds by GinForInk

White T-shirt and Brown Timberlands by Rose_gold715

Him by PinkBTS

love, the shoreline where you and i meet by serendiplini

Best I Ever Heard by dontknowwhatimdoing

I'm Home (alone) by Rozoir

Dazzle Me With Gold by sleep_song

sweetener by serendiplini

Black Swan by serendiplini

ours are the moments i play in the dark by islandbreeze

Winter Flowers by annie_vi

Into You by usaginoona

the cat's in the bag by fatal (cumrich)

The Color of Winter by spookyjkk (Untested_Waters)

Babysitter by heyhosam

cross my heart by serendiplini

Like The Tide by PinkBTS

we don’t talk together by kookminstars

with your hand in mine by sharpa

you are all the colors in one by kookminstars

Bark for me and I'll bark back for you (because I love you) by hobimo

like we're going to war by allurie

searching for you by jiminslattae (drpuffles)

no masters or kings by allurie

count as one together, do you? by adequater

Pumpkin by serendiplini

24k Rose Gold Hair by flitter

Little Little by catladyjaebeom

Nemesis: Sex by AttilaTheHun

we are blossoms in the springtime by koobun

A Home in You by astarwatch

break his dick, not his heart by jimanomroll

All That Glitters by serendiplini

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Charmander

I don't mind you under my skin by bambambams (phanjessmagoria)

Can you smell something burning? That'd be my heart by lattepjm

Cloud Nine by jeonslegend

Smudged by thisneedsmorefilth

What You Do to Me by itslumiko

(You Got Me Feeling Like) A Psycho, Psycho by fiveeight

stuck in reverse by allurie

in my heart is a christmas tree farm by islandbreeze

got that young love (even when we're old) by offthebeat

I give up..I have too many lol

141 notes · View notes

ze-eternalmarsh · 1 month

Text

Name: And Action!

Ship: Namgi (Namjoon/Yoongi) - BTS

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Wordcount: 4k

Type: One Shot

Tags: A/B/O, Werewolves, Fantasy, Smut, Friends to Lovers

Summary:

Werewolves Actors Omega!Yoongi and Alpha!Namjoon have been best friends for years.

However, what happens when they are told to act out a sex scene together?

2 notes · View notes

raethye · 1 year

Photo

Threads of Silk and Blood by raethye

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Jimin x Jungkook

Length: 9.2K, complete

Tags: Vampires, Vampire Bites, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Assault, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Park Jimin (BTS), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past Character Death, Recovered Memories, Past Lives, Promises, True Love, Horror, Hopeful Ending

Jimin doesn’t remember driving, doesn’t recall even leaving his shop for the night. The last thing he remembers clearly is—he does a double take when he sees the date—yesterday.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43257477

#my writing #bts #ao3 #romance #horror #bts fanfic #fanfiction #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jikook #fantasy #vampires #a/b/o dynamics #mind the tags #bts smut #ao3_raethye

18 notes · View notes

snowpetaly · 1 year

Text

Lovers

Feel free to use 🤍 credits are welcome!

idea: abo, O!jm & O!jk, flying yoga teacher, ballet dancer, New Adult, Strangers to Lovers to Strangers, Heavy Angst, Hurt/comfort

#moodboard #jikook moodboard #a/b/o fic #omega jimin #omega jungkook #for writers #aesthetic #beigepalette #white aesthetic #november prompts #daily prompt #moodboards #ballet dancer #flying yoga #fanfiction #bts #jimin #jungkook

23 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 7 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, the word 'r*pe' is used to describe what Geumjae did to her but there are no graphic depictions of it, allusions to physical abuse, graphic violence, there is a brief moment where someone not in the pack touches the m/c's ass without her consent, blood, briefly implied suicidal actions- but it's nothing like what you haven't seen before.

W/c: 12.6k

A/n: i'll be attending my cousin's wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

You dab at the skin under your eyes carefully. You know they must look red and puffy. Tae’s careful instruction to treat your skin well as all good baby pups should has somehow stuck.

Even here. Even now.

“Do people like always loose it with you? Like when they walk in, do they all cry?”

Your therapist (yes, your therapist) across the narrow room is the opposite of threatening; soft face, pulled back hair, neutral clothing that might just as well be out of a country living catalog.

You don’t know where Jin found her, what little medical booklet he perused like a take-out menu, or how much her services cost per hour. Those kinds of details were not for delicate little pups like yourself to worry over in his opinion.

Most of the time, you're glad not to have to worry about things like this. But right now you're chomping at the bit. Weighting your odds. The other unknowns hover before you. One sticks out. One you're most concerned about.

Is she trustworthy?

Nothing about Dr. Rima seems outwardly threatening, yet you curl in on yourself. She smiles, scrawling something on the top of her notepad before she answers, and something taught in you ticks tighter.

“You’re correct in assuming that most people I meet cry in the first few minutes when they meet me, but you are the first person to cry on my threshold. Most of the time people wait until they’re at least in the chair.”

That has a smile tugging at your lips, albeit unwillingly. Your smile is like a leashed wild animal, with too many teeth when you feel threatened. Contained for now.

If you got up and walked out right now, would she call someone to restrain you? Will you be committed if you tell the truth? Or are you just misinterpreting the stakes?

You are here of your own volition. Even if it was a condition that Jin and Namjoon weren't willing to budge on after the events of last week. It's not like the pack is having you put in a mental institution or something, although they did come with you today. For moral support.

The waiting room was stuffy and yellow, one of those little waterfall mirrors in the corner that you’d watched in a fog sat between Yoongi and Jimin while Jin filled out the necessary paperwork. His pen hovering over the small boxes every few seconds. He'd taken the afternoon off of work to make sure he was there, just to fill out paperwork.

Are you on any medications? Do you have a history with substance abuse disorders? Do you have any intent to harm yourself or others?

Sending glares to anyone who dared to come too close, Jimin had looked and smelled threatening. You're not sure he’d have let you go into an isolated location with her if she’d been an alpha. Jin too had looked close to snapping.

yoongi was the only one who looked somewhat calm, althoug his hand was tightly laced with yours (and a little sweaty)

It’s a wonder that the rest of your pack had agreed to stay home for this. This was just one of several concessions you’d made after what the pack has politely begun referring to as 'sad pup time' during your more vulnerable moments, and blatantly 'your breakdown' during less fragile ones.

But sweet words or not. The facts remain; You are here in this chair after a nearly tearful departure.

You’d met the therapist in the doorway, shaking in your boots, and upon being separated from your pack with the promise that they’d be just downstairs in the lobby, you’d followed her inside.

Yoongi had made a noise in his throat, making you turn back. Dr.Rima turned to watch as he’d pulled you in for a last-minute hug, ducking down to your level. “One hour, okay? We’ll be just downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

His eyes were heavy-looking at the stranger. Unwilling to let you go just yet. A little stalwart, a little standoffish.

“Take good care of her please. She’s very precious to us.”

Precious.

That much was evident by the nearly three-page document that both your pack alpha and omega sent through once Namjoon and Jin had selected Dr. Rima as your therapist. Dr. Rima has quite a bit of experience dealing with overprotective pack alphas and pack omegas. Let alone a pack alpha and pack omega who have such a clinical background.

Yes, you must be well taken care of. At least on paper.

She’s already itching a little, to get her hands on all the others. Packmates and their names are written out, as a part of all intake files. Large packs aren't so common anymore. Her eyes fix on one name; Min Yoongi (beta, mate) unemployed.

The big windows help it feel not so small, on the second floor, the trees block out most of the view of the park below. A small voice that sounds like Hobi whispers that it’s a shame she doesn’t have any plants in here, they'd do so well with all of this natural light.

Your knees clack together a little, moving listlessly, the anxiety in your body begging to be released somewhere.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you wanted to come in today.”

You avoid her eye contact, looking instead at the tops of the trees, you don’t know why they haven’t changed color yet, all of the trees on your street are half bare already. She has a smooth inoffensive scent, but you’re mated to a beta so you know what to expect when it comes to the relaxing effects, the subtle haze at the edge of your vision. It must come in handy, having the biological upper hand, when it comes to patients in distress.

If therapists are rare, beta therapists must be even rarer.

You can practically hear Jin, “Nothing but the best for my pup.” There is a part of your brain that won’t ever turn off, appraising everything around you. The designer pumps that she wears. The knickknacks on her desks, there are no photos of any packs that she might call her own, just a pink calendar in the corner.

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too <3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

The pack has kept you substantially plied with little solutions since your breakdown last week. They haven’t let you rot like usual. They’ve kept your days full of little activities; nothing too extravagant or tiring. Letting you rest when you need to and encouraging you to get outside of your comfort zone when it’s clear you’re giving in.

It comes down to that more often than not; giving in or not giving in.

Not giving in looks like trips back to the beach with Hobi. Like going to the salon with Tae and shopping with Jimin. Or another workout class with Jungkook where you’d spent more of the time lounging on the yoga mat than actually moving your body. But you'd still tenuously agreed to sign up for more classes under the encouragement of Wonho and Jungkook.

And now twice a week, you’ve got a mat to call your own during any classes, in the back, if you decide you want it. Your callender hasn't felt so full in years, it feels strange, to have something to do during the weeks that isn't just scraping the bottom of the barrel and doing house chores. Strange in a good way.

Not all of the pack's solutions aren’t silly but sometimes, silly is a good way to push out the dark.

The morning after your breakdown; you'd watched your pack work, fighting back a flush. Sitting at the kitchen bar stool while Yoongi applied painter’s tape to the floor, not intent on keeping back paint this time, but marking it off for you.

You’re a little bit more determined this morning although your first night without nightmares in a little over a month had kept you in higher spirits. You feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

“You don’t need to- I promise- I’m not going-“ but your requests had fallen on deaf ears. Worry building until Jungkook stood up fast grinning up at you, pupils wide brown pools from getting scented stupid this morning.

(Scented stupid, you'd been scented by the pack too, had struggled a little against it, too shy as Namjoon dragged his throat along yours, squirming until yoongi held you down a little, checking with you each few seconds that you wanted that, that your squirming was really just needing to feel a firm touch, a dominant one.

You will go nowhere until your pack have had their right to you, scenting you up, making your scent gland tender and swollen under their teeths and tongues.

It felt so much better to be made to handle it, each of the pack, even hobi, hovering over you to scent you with their wrists and throats. until you smelled so claimed by them that you couldn't breathe without smelling it- Pack.

Jungkook had pouted until he'd gotten the same treatment, although the omegaspace haze had lasted longer on him than it had on you.

He stands up so fast that his hair fluffs. Catching himself on your leg with a giggle before he topples over. grinning up at you before pressing a sleepy sloppy kiss to your knee and then another to your lips,

“No pup zone!" Omega Space Jungkook can get a little bit ridiculous even at the best of times. He's got a case of the morning omegaspace zoomies as he giggles and nips at your nose. You playfully push at his chest. He doesn't budge.

"Your whole face is a no-pup zone." The dissatisfied pur-chirp he'd let out had sounded half hurt, half encouraged.

Namjoon had eased your discomfort. Pulling you from the stool to lean back against his chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm on your legs as Jungkook huffes into your throat.

Having this failsafe- this rule, does not mean that they think you’re going to fail, these are guard rails to keep you on track. Namjoon looks down at you, his full bottom lip tucked a little, not a pout but close. “This is the easiest solution, if you don’t go near it then maybe, maybe it helps.”

His fingers drum against your skin again, and you lean back into him. Uneasy but willing to let him soothe you.

So yes, you’ve been banned from the kitchen, banned from crossing that line that runs from the edge of the coffee stand and just in front of Tae's library room, to the island and over to the fridge. Unless there is someone else close by. You are not allowed here without supervision.

It’s a simple solution, limiting you from the place that you use to hurt yourself. Never mind the fact that there are dozens if not hundreds of other possible avenues you could use. Your creativity knows no bounds when it comes to pain, but you quiet that part of yourself when the desire for hurt gets loud.

You can’t say it hasn’t helped. But then again, the pack has kept you so busy since your breakdown that you haven't had any time to think of hurting yourself let alone put any plans into action.

Across from you, Dr. Rima waits expectantly.

"It was kind of triggered by this thing that happened."

The tip of her pen bobs a little as she writes. “Could you describe the event to me? Or is that something you're not ready to talk about?" You nod and she waits patiently. It takes you a breath to answer.

“A little less than a month ago one of my packmates and I found a dead body."

You feel a little vindicated at her inhale of breath. Wide eyes that say yes- that is something traumatic, yes, it's fair that it kinda triggered you into a more fragile state.

"It dredged up a lot of feelings about my past. Before that, I was kind of starting to feel s-safe which I haven't like, ever been able to feel."

“And your packmate?"

There is new treacherous wetness balancing on your waterline. “Hobi’s a lot stronger than me, his past and mine are really similar but he just- handles his better. A lot of the time it feels like I learn from him even though he’d tell you the opposite is true. He’s my best friend." Your voice goes quiet, "I love my mate more than I love anyone else, but sometimes- Hobi just- gets me you know?" You go a little misty-eyed. Hands tightening on Hobi's sweatshirt.

“Yet he’s not the one sitting in my chair right now.”

You close your eyes, "he's not."

“For what it’s worth- you can have more than one best friend.” Dr. Rima writes as quickly as she can, taking it down. “How long have you been romantically involved with him? Who came first, your mate or him?”

You jolt forward, “Oh no- we’re not- Hobi and I aren't-" You take a deep breath to clarify. "Everyone else in the pack is together but Hobi and I are just friends. We all have our like… little units?”

"Primary partners." Dr. Rima offers.

"Yeah, that." But even that doesn't really cover it, because while Jin and Namjoon are JinandNamjoon and Jimin and Tae are JiminandTae. Jungkook is everyone's problem (in the best of ways) and you and Tae are something else too. The pack's girls the rest of them would say.

(You and Hobi are, well, YouandHobi.)

It sounds weird to say it once it comes out of your mouth. It makes an odd choked feeling lodge in your throat. Too much hope and too much shame for hoping blooming in your chest.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about him.”

She folds her hands over her knees, setting her pen down. Dr. Rima has chubby hands, disproportionate to her body. They look like they'd be soft.

She reminds you of your mom a little bit.

“That’s okay, we can talk about whatever you want. What you want and need is going to be the focus of our sessions. You’re the pilot here. I’m just here to help you interpret your thoughts and feelings.”

She folds her hands over themselves, setting her pen aside, “Why don’t we talk about the last time you remember feeling safe.”

"Physically or mentally?"

"Either, you can choose."

The rest of the session passes frightfully quickly. You can’t say that you don’t cry again. When you finally talk about Geumjae, her smile quickly dissipates. You talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw. Until you’ve depleted the whole box of her tissues. She shows you she's got more hidden under her desk when you apologize, her secret stash gets a laugh out of you.

“The fact that your pack omega filled out your paperwork isn’t the most unusual, but his preference for daily meetings or every other day is a little bit on the nose for a pack omega, I’m wondering if you share his preference.”

“He’s just overprotective.” She eyes you like Jin has good reason to be. You don’t blush this time, a little more comfortable with Dr. Rima than you were at the beginning of this. “I think maybe more than once a week but not every day.”

“How does Monday- Friday sound?”

~-~

When you walk to the door with Dr. Rima Yoongi stands abruptly from his chair.

You can tell by the shiny edge to his to his scent that he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He gets the information about your next appointment and then tugs you out the door.

Jins got his legs crossed, fancy leather shoes glinting in the sunlight by the windows. The lobby is buzzing with people coming and going. This building isn't just a therapy office but a collection of other businesses with a few shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well. He looks up and double-takes when he spots you, not standing from his chair, but he opens his arms and you fold yourself along his side, conscious of the other eyes but this.

This you need.

You press your face along the column of Jin's neck, breathing his cream scent in deep.

“Oh pup.”

Your red-rimmed eyes are too obvious and you sniffle wetly, “It was okay, I like Dr. Rima.” He laces your hands together and resists the urge to pester you with questions. Yoongi's hand is still tangled in the hood of your (Hobi's) sweatshirt. Your therapy sessions should be yours and only yours. Yoongi and Jin do not have Dr. patient confidentiality.

And yet the need to know if that helped burns through them. They won't have to wonder for long.

By the coffee stand, Jimin waves and he returns to you when the barista hands over a bag of sweets and a quad of cups. Jin continues scrawling something out for another second before he’s standing and pulling you in for another chaste scent mark.

“Let’s go home.” It's somewhere between an order and a request. But no one disobeys.

On the drive back (37 minutes total) you're a little quiet. You let the sounds of the others be your buffer. You look down at your phone and stare at Hobi’s texts. You respond with just a little heart emoji when you finally still can’t figure out a good response and you're close to home.

Home is its usual conflagration of moving bits and pieces. Each of your packmates is like a shiny cog in a pretty clock, tick tick tick tocking along. Tae and Namjoon are at the table looking through some of the pack’s bills, the pastries and coffee cups litter the table with little piles of powdered sugar and cinnamon. jimin bought enough for the whole pack.

You look at them a little too long, although not because you don't want to eat them. It’s been a while, a few weeks since you’ve made something like that, but every single one of the pastries is something you know how to make. You don’t know why you keep looking at them.

Tae smiles at you, still in the doorway. and it makes you feel a little less like you want to burst into tears. Her voice speaks of the quiet time you have in the library (the tenderness of having someone else do your makeup, another person combing your hair). You hope you'll get some dedicated one-on-one time with her soon.

"Hey little lovely, How was it?"

"She put me through the wringer but I think she got some suds out."

She and Namjoon giggle and you smile small. and you can tell that Namjoon wants to ask you more but he doesn't after a pointed look from your mate. There are footsteps in the hall and before you can move to take off your shoes Hobi is standing in the archway.

Yoongi efficiently strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt with a frustrated huff. It's Kind of like he’s trying to peel away the sadness (your clothes are soaked with your sour scent, rainy and unhappy. Regardless of Jin’s scent mark, you kind of stink).

You might have overheard their words just before you got into the car. Jin's hissed admonishment. “A lot of people cry during therapy Minnie, she’s not in trouble, can’t you smell it?”

Your scent is mellow underneath the memory of your distress, going sweeter by the second. Yoongi wants all memories of your sad scent banished from the house. Hobi stands at the door to the hallway, shifting back and forth, his eyes a little warmer than usual, hands shaking a little bit.

You’ve caught him looking at you a lot since the night he ran away, in the quiet moments when he thinks you’re not noticing. Eyes a shade warmer than usual, a sweetened franticness to his scent. Nervousness and happiness mix like blueberries and whipped cream.

When he pulls up beside you during movie nights and sits thigh to thigh with you. When his hands intertwine with yours over his knee or sometimes or when he pulls your legs sideways across his lap. He looks at you like that when he's doing the small things and he's looking at you like that right now.

You know how love starts, that it starts with the small things.

Hobi resists the urge to open his arms. would you come to him? Would you fold your body along his front so that he could feel your heartbeat? Pressing again and again to the opposite side of his chest with every thump?

He doesn’t say hey, but he does step a little closer. Fingers reaching out. The pad of his index finger slides down the meat of your pinky till it reaches the ball of your wrist. His own special hello.

Your breath hitches, just barely, almost imperceptible if it wasn’t for how close he stands.

A look behind you says Yoongi hasn’t made himself scarce, instead fussing with the pack's coats. Now that it’s getting colder, they don’t all fit by the door. You look behind Hobi and find Namjoon watching the three of you, he raises a singular eyebrow.

“How was it? Bad?” Hobi asks, breaking the silence and the tension, drawing your attention back to him. The next breath you let out is a lot less heavy, and your eyelashes flutter as he steps closer. Hobi smells good, a little earthy, mellowing out his usual sweetness. Sweet for an alpha.

“It was kind of hard, I kinda wanted to run away for a bit at the beginning." You can't keep meeting his eyes with how intensely he's looking at you and they flutter down to his hands. "I almost did.”

"I'm glad you didn't pup." Jin comments, full of reproach, the mirror to you and Hobi as he leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon's forehead. Shucking off his lapelled jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

“If you’d have called me, I’d have picked you up. We could still like- run away, if you're down.”

But the house is starting to heat up, and Jin and Yoongi are starting to cook. The light is still honey-yellow happy. And you tip your cheek into his arm. He finally- finally lets his arms settle around your waist.

“Nah, not yet.” You drag out the syllable all playful, and something forbidden stirs in Hobi’s gut. “Jin’s making my favorite tonight. not until later?”

Hobi goes silent, pulls back, biting his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes down. and-

You laugh and Hobi blushes. “Just spit it out.”

Everyone’s been a little bit touchier with you since that night (a little more overbearing too). You won’t immediately chalk Hobi's touchyness up to what you're all thinking. But the affection makes your scent gland feel tender. Zinging when Yoongi steps up behind you and nuzzles into it, huffing again.

Friends can hug each other after therapy right? Hobi swallows thickly and you feel it against your collar bone as he pulls back and steps away from you. “I ugh- got you a present?”

You brighten up instantly, and Hobi's anxiety increases tenfold. A bit of casual mischievousness on the edge of your lips that always have Hobi feeling like he’s being teased even though he knows he isn’t.

“Oh? A present? You’ve never gotten me a present before!”

He kicks at imaginary dust bunnies, fighting back what he knows is a noticeable flush. “I ugh- still owe you, from the car you know and honestly it's not even like a big gift it's like- so small in comparison and-”

Yoongi huffs and continues to disrobe you. Pulling your sweater over your head when he’s not satisfied that your unhappy scent has dissipated. Muttering something like. “hopeless alpha” under his breath. Your tank top pulls up, inches of your hip and skin on display. It's nothing that Hobi hasn't seen before and yet the blush reignites. The sunshine to your morning glory.

“I guess you're right.” But it doesn’t feel like it. Hobi doesn’t owe you anything for that, not when it was so easy to give. Not when you’ve gotten so many late-night drives from that gift.

Hoseok got the idea for your courting gift, one morning while watching you say goodbye to Namjoon:

The pack alpha has always been a fan of goodbye kisses, good morning, and goodnight kisses too. The particular kiss that morning had ‘I’ll miss you’ written all over it. It was so pretty in the way that you lingered, arms around Namjoon’s neck. His hand is underneath your shirt on the small of your back. Such a small touch and yet so gently possessive that it had Hobi aching to see it.

Hobi is unfortunately prone to jealousy and it turns the back of his neck hot. Makes his hands feel oddly tender. He's distracted by the visual, the task of packing up his work bag forgotten. Hoseok’s shift at the flower shop doesn’t start for another few hours, and he’s waiting, watching, an unhappy voyeur.

You and Namjoon have quite the height difference, if he was in between the two of you he’d be the perfect middle ground. That’s just another stupid thought, another stupid thought in the countless number of stupid thoughts that he’s had. (I like my alphas a little pathetic, and nothing's more pathetic than an alpha pining after an omega.)

He grumbles.

Yoongi prattles on, more awake than all of them as he outlines what you have to do today to make progress on the house- which is to go find a place that sells cheaper tile than the ones you first thought of using in the bathroom on the first floor. And maybe change it up a little.

The bathrooms escaped the renovations somehow, and a few nights ago- Jimin had admitted how much they actually use it even though it’s not the pack's primary bathroom anymore. Now that it’s not in use, they’re more willing to part with it for a few days for some very necessary re-styling. it toes the line from vintage to old a little too hard. The yellow is a little…yellow.

Yoongi wants to go light and airy with the color scheme, like he did with the upstairs bathroom and it's seafoam and brown tones. But like with most of the house, your vote is for colorful. “How about a light blue-” Yoongi continues to argue while you kiss Namjoon a little senseless in the doorway, at least Namjoon seems properly dazed, chasing your lips when you pull apart.

“No- we don’t have a room that’s magenta yet!”

This starts the same argument as always; “We can’t make every room in this house pink for Tae.”

But goodbyes take precedence, and when you turn back and smile at Hobi he flushes, shy to be caught looking. He moves, stepping around you and Namjoon to put his water bottle into his bag when you shout, “Stop, Seokie!”

Seokie is a new nickname, one that Jin only uses in the quietest of moments that you've somehow adopted when you don't want to call him Hobi. Hobi always thought that if you’d use any other nickname with him- you’d use daisy (he might want you and yoongi to share that pet name). But he’s a good pup and stops what he’s doing. Every atom in his body every electron no longer circulates neutrons but circulates you instead. Pulled in by your gravity.

You’ve moved so suddenly that you’ve spilled a bit of your coffee onto the floor. Maybe kissing Namjoon has left you feeling a little dizzy too. Yoongi just sighs fondly and wipes it up. Jimin looks up from his phone, smiling when he sees.

“You’ve got a rainbow on your cheek.”

It’s a trick of the light, early morning sunshine refracted through the mottled window just right to cast a single rainbow on the wall and on Hobi when he steps in front of it.

You cup his cheek, finger skimming across where the rainbow sits.

"Pretty."

Hobi feels hot all over.

At Tae’s call of, “If I have to do my eyeliner one more time I’m going to scream!” You giggle and dart away from him. Going to tend to Tae with a soft reply of "I've got you baby."

Hoseok is left, blushing in the morning light. Staying still like you might come by and cup his cheek again, Like a flower staying still in the hope of pollination.

Hobi is left, wanting to scream and somehow demand you back, both would be fair. His plight isn't missed by his packmates, who lean in like a set of jackals, grinning ear to ear at hobi's flustered predicament.

She's going to send him into rut if she's not careful Jin thinks, but doesn't say. instead he teases, “You’ve got to leave in the next ten-minute Hobi.”

Only then does Hoseok move- released from his spell and finally losing the rainbow on his cheeks though they might as well have stayed with how happy and warm he feels. How absolutely incandescent the love is glowing in his chest. A full spectrum of feelings, longing for you to come back.

He almost trips over noodle, darting after you with his tail raised high, catching himself on the edge of the couch at the last second, one shoe on and one off, his water bottle falling and spilling in the process.

yoongi sighs, and stoops to wipe it up. Jimin giggles and pulls Hobi up by his hips, the alpha's fingers feel hot where they've touched him, scalding. “What’s wrong, omega got your tongue?” yoongi returns to his breakfast, throwing the wad of soggy paper towels into the trash.

Jungkook laughs, “It’s more like he wants an omega to have his tongue in her-“

“You guys are gross,” He pushes at Jimin’s shoulder finally moving right. Yoongi hides his smile in a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

Hobi doesn’t think about the rainbows again until his next afternoon shift. When the low angle of the autumn sun cuts through the windows and catches the suncatchers that they hang in the doorway of the flower shop and cast more rainbows- dozens of them really across him and the flower.

He remembers when you came to visit, how you'd lingered over them, looked at them a second longer than you looked at the plants.

It’s a bit of a kitschy display. Other polished stones and nick nacks sitting on the deep shelf along with some smaller potted plants. A little tray of rose-quartz stones falsely advertises themselves as ‘heat reducers.’

The colors start to blend, and the rainbows sway softly in the light, gentle and pretty. He snaps a photo and thinks about sending it to you, but doesn’t.

The store is blissfully empty of Hobi's coworkers when he selects three of them. It's quiet when he packages them in tissue paper, one with a huge pink stained-glass moon at the top, another with three tiers. Each of them is delicate and pretty in their own right. No one’s bought a single one of them in the last three months anyway. They'll hardly be missed. Hobi gives himself a fat employee discount.

Hobi is unfortunately bad at hiding things, especially when he's nervous. Luckily the pack alpha doesn’t have it in him to tease. Namjoon had in fact been only too encouraging and given him a pep talk just this morning about courting and courting presents.

“The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t like it- and then you just have to try again which you were already planning on doing anyway.” Namjoon is quite simply the best at courting. It doesn't matter which subgender; alphas, beta’s, and omegas have all fallen under his touch. At least Hoseok has the opportunity to learn from a professional. Somehow the thought that you'd compare him to namjoon doesn't cross his mind.

Hoseok isn’t good at the romantic gestures that courting necessitates. He’s more of the ‘there when you need him’ kind of lover. Ready to make the small changes to make his loved ones' lives more manageable. Ready with his car keys for adventures. Those parts are easy, this is out of his depth.

Especially when it comes to you. Even After the love confessions, (are confessions still confessions if they’re so internal?) Hobi feels mostly unmoored. About to shatter upon unknown shores.

God, crushes are so frustrating (in the best kind of way, the way that keeps you sighing and daydreaming, the kind of way that makes you look in the mirror a little longer).

Tae helped him half an hour before she started on the pack's paperwork. They'd spent an hour deciding which places were best to hang them to get the greatest number of rainbows. She had even fussed with his hair a little to make it lie right. Having him hop up on the couch so she could see Hobi's face from your angle.

Hobi wanted to make sure there were at least one or two rainbows when he shows you. But when he leads you to the sunroom, his hands over your eyes (the same position you found yourself in when Namjoon surprised you with the nesting pod) there are more of them than there were when he set them up, whole constellations swaying softly.

The suncatchers are pretty and twinkly sparkly in the golden hour light, and your lips part in a simple show of awe when Hobi tells you you can open your eyes. It's so bright, they send dozens of little rainbows across the walls and your nesting pod. Over the white couch and the fig in the corner.

It’s very very pretty. and when you turn back to look a thim, Hobi once again has a rainbow on his cheek.

Your eyes twinkle, but you don't say anything. you stay quiet for long enough that Hobi gets nervous. his anxiety makes him talk fast. “I hung them here- but you can put them wherever you want- in the kitchen or upstairs or I can get you more for any places you want to put them- or- or- ”

You just about tackle him, arms looping around his neck resting your weight in his arms that instinctively grip around your waist. Hobi teeters, unsteady with such a heavy heart, toppling both of you onto the couch as you cry. "I love it!"

You’re sprawled not lying across him but his hand goes out to support the way you cling and rub your face into his chest, a happy little chirp slipping past your lips.

The wild thing in Hobi’s chest settles, settles, and curls around you. Tight and protective like a vice. You pull back, and your smile is just as bright.

Hobi sags, and rests his neck back against the couch, "Good- thank fucking god- I was so fucking nervous-" You fiddle with the buttons on his flannel, it's one of Yoongi's. It seems fitting that you steal his clothes and he steals Yoongi's.

"What brought all this on?"

Hobi doesn't have a good answer, in the quiet with the rainbows, or at least an answer he's ready for. He doesn't say that this is a courting present, and he doesn't need to because instead of answering your question- he replies with one of his own.

“Wanna go for a drive later?” he asks, voice tremulous like he thinks you might refuse him. You’ve never said no to him before, never said not tonight only not right now. Do you treasure our little talks the same way I do?

“Sure, after dinner? like I said? Just-" You lean back against his chest, and Hobi’s hands go tight tight tight around your waist. Holding you close. Clingy. He does not slip his hand under your shirt to cup the side of your hip the way that Namjoon might, but the thought crosses his mind.

Hobi is a good alpha, he won't cross that line until you tell him it's okay. Until then a thin layer of fabric separates his skin from yours. You're still warm to the couch.

“Sit and watch them with me?” You ask quietly. Almost shy, like you think he’d refuse you. He nods and the two of you sit on the couch to look at the rainbows together.

Eventually, Noodle finds the two of you, meowing and hopping up to stretch out along your thighs. Worming his way between the two of you.

The rainbows don't last forever, but Hobi sits with you until they fade.

~-~

Tae’s library is just like every public library:

Tall windows, wide quiet shelves with room for the stories to breathe. A colorful young adult section and an even more colorful kid’s section. A bit aways from the tables and computers so that any over-excited pups don’t disturb the adults. Big deep beanbags for small children to cuddle up to while they ponder fairy tales and adventures only a plastic-covered book away.

Tae’s long plaid skirt barely makes a whisper along the ground. The colder weather has allowed her to live all of her cottage core fantasies, her dark academia aesthetic truly flourishing. Her shirt is a little translucent today, and the fading summer tan of her skin pokes through it in spots where her tank top doesn't hide. Pretty long earrings dangle and clink in the quiet while she works on her shelving.

Wearing her chosen clothing items at work has been a bit of a work in progress.

Most of Tae’s coworkers approve of her transition in that overly willing-to-be-an-ally way that middle-aged women who generally consider themselves progressive outside of closed doors all do. And the ones that don’t approve have swallowed their words with lingering sour eyes and raised upper lips after the general receptiveness to Tae’s social transition.

It's hard to know who's genuine with it, who just doesn't want to cause a fuss, and who just doesn't give a shit. But most of the time her outfits get one or two compliments and thats it. Tae would rather them say nothing than anything negitive.

Tae likes the quiet of the library at this time of day, the silence gives her enough room to let her imagination wander. Tae likes to file away books in mid-morning, when there are fewer people around and her humming is less likely to disturb any of the library’s patrons. She sings to the stories and they sing back, tempting her with every well-worded title and delicately chaste summary.

But she doesn’t just think about stories or the book she's writing (her book is currently giving her hell on the 30th chapter) No. Today- there is a much more interesting love story blooming in her head, in the pack's den too.

She’s been thinking about you all morning (Tae thinks about you almost every morning) there are even little poems scrawled on the edge of her newspaper. Lines that are you and a bit of Hobi too.

I wished that I might be your hair clip / to know what it feels like / to be pressed against the nape of your neck/ To be your suntan/ perched on the edge/ of what you show everyone and what you show no one/ To be the bearer of every freckle/ like the sky holds the stars/ To hold and never let go/ Like birds hold sunshine / and flowers hold songs.

Everyone had noticed of course, how much time you and Hobi have been spending together.

The pack had even talked about it during a quiet moment without you and Hobi. Yoongi’s lack of communication regarding you and Hobi. “I don’t know anything” he’d unsuccessfully lied, and nearly been heaved up and wrestled to the couch as a result. But Jungkook’s puppy eyes had unsuccessfully endeared him.

Yoongi has kept Hobi's secret, but it's kind of hard not to notice. Tae isn't a fool. Tae is a much better liar than Yoongi is- because when you'd come to her after your late-night drive to gush with her about Hobi and the rainbows over makeup. She hadn't said anything about what she knows.

Tae couldn’t tell you how many times she’d noticed little touches, Hobi’s hand lingering on the small of your back, grabbing your waist when he moved behind you in the bathroom. When he take the greatest care to set out his sweatshirts in the morning and even asks Jungkook to make sure they’re clean. They’re practically not even his sweatshirts anymore with the amount you’ve been wearing them.

Tae isn’t an idiot, she knows that Hobi’s finally realized it. While she doesn’t trust herself to play matchmaker given how poorly the first time she pointed out Hobi’s attraction went. that doesn’t mean she’s not going to park herself firmly on the edge of her fantasy land with a box of popcorn.

If they were gonna get married, would Hobi wear a red tux or black or grey? Her brain is already thinking of wedding dresses. One of these days she’s really going to have to make a Pinterest board. Hobi would probably want to do sunflowers, and that might clash with the red unless it was a fall wedding- ooh, and what about pearl details and daisies? a beach wedding might be a little too on the nose for you.

Tae is so absorbed with her shelving and her daydreaming that she doesn’t notice the sound of small shoes on the carpeted floor. Nor does she notice the light-up flash of tiny iorn man sneakers. Her musings are easily interrupted by a small tug on her skirt, shy almost. She startles a little, looking down at the sudden touch.

The little pup's thumb is wet from where it was clearly placed behind their bucked teeth. He's got wide brown eyes and soft-looking hair, Tae can't stop the smile that comes to her lips.

“I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t reach, can you help me? Please?”

Tae’s heart swells as she leans down to the pup's level. “Of course, I can! Why don’t you show me what one you wanted,” diligently Tae follows the little one a few isles over, tugged along by their insistent pulling as he tells her about the pretty cover.

The little pup turns back, furrowing his bushy brows up at Tae, “are you a princess?” he asks. Tae almost has to laugh, a bright happy gender euphoric feeling filling her chest, that feeling of I could be filling her.

She makes her whisper just a little more hushed, playing along, “Don’t tell anyone okay? It's a secret.” The little pup nods, eyes darting around like there are dragons that would threaten her.

“What gave me away?”

“Princesses wear long skirts!” the pup says cheerfully, like it makes the most sense in the world. He's a little too loud and Tae winces. He finally finds the shelve with the story. The spine glimmers pink and gold and Tae is unsurprised to find the illustrated copy of Cinderella. Not the Disney or PJ version, but the Brothers Grimm version.

Tae cringes at the pair of doves on the cover.

Tae doesn’t say that the little pup is too small to read a book so big, or that there is one with more pictures much more appropriate away from the young adult section. The child can’t be more than 6 years old.

But still, Tae retrieves it and delivers it to their waiting arms. The little one clutches it to his chest, thanks Tae, and then promptly plops themselves onto the carpeted floor right there.

He opens the first page, huffs, and then looks up at her imploringly.

“I just realized I can’t read.”

He pouts and Tae melts. Tae wonders where the pup's mother is, but really, there certainly can't be much harm in this. This isn't the first time Tae has been guilted into reading a story to a pup while their parents work or make use of the library's computers.

"Just the first page.” She intones, caution for the child’s hopes in her voice, she presses her skirt under her knees and sits on the scratchy carpet. The pup curls close to see the pictures. Resting his tiny chubby cheek in the billow of Tae’s big puffy sleeve.

Tae's chest is all tight as she reads. The pup is very well-behaved, he pauses, and asks questions in a soft voice only when Tae gives him space to respond. Tae easily ommits the parts that aren't appropriate. but tae finds herself watching the pup a little bit more as the minutes stretch.

In a few years with your own little ones around, will Tae become the defacto bedtime story reader? Will she do this with the pack's pups one day? Will she be the one to take that bright little light in their eyes that imagines things as greater and more and cultivate it? Her cheeks feel warm at the prospect, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in excitement.

Your pups and Jin's pups too- they're gonna be so loved. Tae's gonna be the best mom to them, The best alpha too.

One page turns into two and then three. In this quiet corner with only Tae’s voice as ruler and god, the little pup hinges on every word. Until there’s another voice close by. An adult not wishing to be loud, a whispered name.

“Jae?”

Tae smiles up at the woman at the end of the aisle of books. Her smile turns sweeter when Jae hops up and runs to press his face into her jeaned thighs. Tae remembers how that felt, how every scent besides Tae’s own omega mother felt overwhelming and icky.

Tae stands with a crack of her knees and makes to hand over the book, “This makes a great bedtime story until about chapter 8, that one you might want to skip until he’s a little older.”

The woman makes to smile, but it only goes so far. Tae watches in perfect detail, everything in slow motion, as her eyes flicker down to Tae’s Addams apple.

She drags her child close by their wrist quicker than Tae can blink. Tae sees the moment that the child realizes this touch isn’t gentle, wide eyes going fear-stricken as he's tugged behind her back. And then it's all downhill from there.

I'll spare you the more vile bits.

But the saddest moment of the argument that follows (Which involves not one but three of Tae's co-workers to calm down the hysterical woman whose screeches echo around the quiet library) is when the pup tries to get his mother's attention. "Mom, I liked that she was reading to me."

"He" the certified Karen hisses, moving in a way that makes the pup flinch back. "-should know better than to corrupt a pup with such- such-" her eyes dart down and up, and Tae's skin burns. "Disgusting behavior."

The misgendering doesn't even sting. What does hurt is the eyes peering in. She isn't being quiet and it's causing many of the library's patrons' attention is diverted. Tae's coworkers have put themselves between Tae and the woman. But there still aren't enough people (enough packmates) in between her and the verbal tirade.

An hour later, after the woman has left after threatening to call the police, Tae talks with his boss and his boss’s boss. The room behind the front desk is glass, and he knows that the door doesn’t keep the sound of their raised voice out.

“I wasn’t harassing her child; I was just helping him find a book for Christ sake!”

The worst part is that this isn’t the first time that this has happened. No- since Tae came out there have been two other complaints leveled against her from bigoted patrons. Both right at the beginning before she got the hang of presenting how she wanted to.

At least those confrontations weren’t face-to-face. At least those complaints didn’t end with someone threatening to call the police and a pup cowering, tugged along too roughly out the door.

The little pup had glanced back at Tae, mouth in pout, eyes swimming with tears.

Even if the woman felt righteous in her anger, the least she could have done was not yell in front of the pup. Tae promises herself right then and there, that she'll never raise her voice in front of the pack's pups, not in anger.

The book has stayed on the counter at the front. Pink and gold and treacherous. Tae hopes that if anything, the pup finds it and reads the ending one day. Stories have a way of finding us, even when the world makes us let them go.

Now in the back room behind the check-out counter. Tae’s boss levels her with an expectant look, the kind that people give when they don’t want to be transphobic not really- it’s just so hard for them not to, so learned. Tae is the nail that sticks up. It’s bullshit really. Tae can tell it's bullshit before she opens her mouth.

“Really? He asked for Cinderella?”

“Yes.” Tae’s biting tone is an alpha’s tone, not a man’s, and yet she knows how it sounds.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m not lying.” Is Tae supposed to only help some children find the books they want? Is she supposed to look at them and make her best guess if they’ve got homophobic parents and skip them over? It’s not her fault that the sweet sweet pup’s parent was a bigot.

“I can’t help but feel like- you’ve got a personal agenda-“

"Charlie-" the district manager cautions.

Tae can’t stop herself from snapping, alpha anger sparking with the intent to burn. “Little boys should be allowed to read Cinderella if they want to” Rats and all. Her hands are shaking, and it isn’t missed by them. The room smells thick with Tae’s spicy cinnamon anger.

The district manager sets her hand on Tae's shoulder, and her anger ebbs just a little. “I think maybe you should go home a little early today, just to cool off. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Tae doesn’t want to go home early, Tae doesn’t want to go home at all as she packs up her books. Her bag lighter than usual, absent of the stories that she wants to take home. For once there aren’t any that she wants to read.

She walks to the train station because Jimin won’t be off work for another 2 hours and that’s when he’d usually pick her up, the last three days he’s gotten her flowers too; white roses the first day, pink the second, and red the third. She sends him a text.

Tae <3 (1:48): I left work early today, you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll get an Uber home.

Mini-alpha (1:49):!!!!!

Mini-alpha (1:49): What happened? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I can leave now.

Tae sighs, looking down at her phone while she waits for the crosswalk light to come on. Red still, green in a few seconds, she only has to wait. She can practically feel Jimin's nervous energy through the phone. it's a wonder he doesn't immediately call her.

It makes her soft. It isn't in Jimin's nature to give any of his lovers any space but he always makes an effort when it comes to her.

Tae <3 (1:53): No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you when you get home.

Tae doesn’t want to talk to Jimin about transphobia again. At least not yet. It’s too much energy. It’s not that Tae doesn’t want to make what happened during Namjoon’s rut better. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about it- it’s just that there’s nothing to talk about, the explanation of his actions are such a burden for Tae to bear. And Tae trusts that Jimin’s heart is in the right place even if he makes mistakes. And even telling Jimin off, yelling at him, wouldn’t change it.

Either one day Tae will not have to deal with bigoted parents, either one day she’ll pass and won’t have to worry, or she'll always be in this awkward middle ground.

Trans people are like toupees, you only notice them when there’s something off, something a little misplaced about them. Tae fears that most of all. Femininity, as much as she wants it, as much as it's hers to take, what if it won't ever fit right? What if she never passes?

Tae loves her job at the library, it’s the perfect mix of boring and safe and easy even if it doesn’t pay enough. But even as she's gained things like skirts and puffy sleeves, she's exchanged them for days like today. Really, the library was her favorite place before today and now, every step away from it makes her feel a little lighter. She's not even angry anymore, just exhausted mentally.

Tae decides to walk home at least she’s in her most conservative channel flats, they could use a little bit more wear and love and Tae’s thoughts are still too sharp. She dulls them to a palatable edge that all falls apart when she gets home.

You’re there, thank fucking god you’re always there when she gets home. You’ll always be Tae’s comfort person.

Tae opens the door with a creek and push of cold air, you're saying something to Yoongi turning with a toss of your hair, eyes brightening when you see her before you've even said her name.

You look a little healthier today, with a little bit more of a rosy glow to your cheeks and a healthy brightness to your eyes, not all glassy.

"Tae! You're home early!"

Tae will never stop being proud of how hard you try, and will never stop being a bit envious either because Tae-

Tae looks at you and wilts, bag flopping onto the floor, and predictably burst into tears.

"Oh- oh Tae."

"Baby girl-"

You and Yoongi are just about the best security blanket a packmate could ask for. You're so good as you pull her down to your level so you can kiss away her tears, maneuvering her like a perfect team onto the couch. Yoongi's strong hands slide off her shoes. Yoongi's fingers digging into her sore heel as you kiss away her every tear.

A substantial amount of babying and a Sos packmate in distress text later, and Tae is reclining across a freshly fluffed nest, the muscles in her body relaxed. The blisters on the back of her feet are bandaged and kissed. Every inch of her body is too.

You don't talk about it until after the pack's facemasks are finished, and hobi's clear coat has dried over the tiny nail sticker that you left. a small bumblebee.

Your skin smells sweet after a long long bath full of fancy bath bombs. Jinnie had also rubbed oil onto her freshly shaven legs. You helped, dragging it along oh so carefully to not nick her skin. Ending each pass with a kiss to her ankle and then upper thigh.

Tae’s head is in your lap now, cheek pressed against your (slightly chubbier) thighs. Her sniffles the background music as Tae gives her final recap of what happened.

Your nose gets a wrinkle in it when you go cross. "There's so much meanness to the world, I hate how people have to add to it."

Jimin’s anger leaves an undercurrent in the air, dragging the other alphas along, Hobi’s hands are strong where they dig into Tae’s shoulders, belly down in the nest while you play with her hair, braiding it back and forth. The attention makes her feel a little tingly.

“Do you know what her name was? Did you get a look at her car-“ Jimin asks, nearly barking. The library has cameras. Jimin knows it does.

Jin sets a hand on the back of his neck, a scruff threatening. “Down pup. Tae doesn’t need you to track them down.” Jimin’s teeth look particularly sharp in the light. For a face so soft he has quite the mouth on him.

“They made her sad,” he growls, but it's softer, more pointed as he crouches over her.

Namjoon’s quiet voice unlocks the whole world's worries, massaging gently down the column of Tae’s delicate neck, rough hands, worn tender touching her regardless. Namjoon is rarely ever so pointed, but it's logical, from an alpha's perspective, Tae knows what he hints.

"I think that if your bosses aren't going to protect you from people like that, then I want you to leave your job." Jin gives him a look like, 'Now you know where I'm coming from' but Tae's the important packmate right now.

Tae rolls Namjoon's words around her tongue, her hand loosely twined with his. Namjoon has the steadiest hands out of everyone in the pack and a few minutes ago he repurposed his surgery skills to do her nails. Took off the chipped red and re-did them because Namjoon knows she feels best when her claws are polished. He checks them now. Tapping them lightly to not smudge them.

It's a girl's night, the first girl's night you've ever had with the whole pack. Tae's face is still glossy from the face mask.

“I don’t think I want to quit; I don’t think that would help at all that’s not going to like- solve the world and all its issues.”

“No, but- if it’s making you more sad than happy. Then maybe it’s worth considering.”

Tae knows Namjoon’s not saying that she doesn’t make enough to affect the pack's finances, but that's still the truth. Hobi pulls himself along her other side and you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Hobi presses a kiss to Tae's temple, “All you want to do is write every day anyways, and we just want you to be happy,” 6 heads nod their agreement.

Hobi isn't wrong; The last four weekends in a row Tae has woken up several hours earlier than the pack would usually stir from morning cuddles, just to get a few hours of uninterrupted writing done. She’s also spent nearly every night in her library room, staying up late after the pack has retired upstairs until one of you comes down and wrangles her upstairs. The pack's prettiest alpha needs her beauty sleep.

But is it enough to count on? Is it worth quitting her job over?

You duck down low, kissing the same spot Hobi did, your lips touching just a Tae away. a heavy breath wooshes out of her chest. "Yeah why wouldn't we want you to quit? If you're always here then I can always do this."

Your kiss is gentle, and it tastes like belonging more than Tae would ever be able to write, to describe. A love that makes you feel like you belong is a rare thing. And Tae's hand goes up to tangle in your hair, keeping you there for just a shared breath longer.

The next breath tastes a bit like freedom. It's scary to be free.

(But Tae leaves her 2 weeks' notice on her boss’s desk before the end of the next work day, and she doesn't feel bad about it one bit).

~-~

(1 year prior)

Maybe the truth is that the reason why you don’t feel you deserve agency is because you know what your agency looks like. The choices you’re willing to make when it comes down to it.

The secrets you tell and the lies you have buried deep in your pocket like one of Hobi’s found things. Something you can’t get rid of and cast back into the ocean. No matter how hard you try. There is something about murder that sticks, that stays no matter how many times you try to wash your hands of it.

It's not guilt, because you don't feel guilty for what you had to do.

Being backed into a corner can make someone do a whole hell of alot of monstrous things. And back then Life was monotonous. Back then there was Anguish without change.

Your life went like this: Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Meet up with Hyejin. Make poison. Make pastries. Go to the Don’s house. Feed it to them. Listen to Moonbyul tell you to wait. Go home. Get beaten again and again. Get raped every night. On and on and on.

Clean up your blood from the tiles. Clean it from the carpet. Hydrogen peroxide and not bleach. Cover the bruises up with color corrector first before you put concealer over them.

Smile and tell everyone that your husband and you are perfectly happy. There will be a pup on the way soon enough, I'm so lucky to have someone who supports me, and I'm so lucky to have a love like this.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Go to sleep and don't cry because then he'll beat you for keeping him awake.

In the darkness that curls around you. Blood going tacky between your legs, you start to dream of wicked sweet things.

What you've been through would be enough to make anyone go crazy, Enough to make anyone consider drastic action. Enough to make anyone consider murder.

Enough for you to slide a pair of small syringes off of Moonbyul’s night desk and a small packet of arsenic too. You know how to make a simple syrup. You know how to mix in arsenic to it, how to make it liquid soluble without breathing it in.

You make it in the fine china and break it after so that you can throw it out without worrying. You get a beating for it but you hardly feel it when Geumjae drags you across the floor by your hair. It hardly breaks your heart when he steps on your ribcage with the intent to break bones because you know what you have to do.

After, with your own blood on your teeth, you make sure to leave it in the bottom of the trash, and ask the cleaning staff not to take it out yet. They're supposed to find it.

You don't care if you die, you just want to make sure the necessary villains are punished. When it comes to blame the person who is most to blame is you anyway. You are simply numb to pain, numb to your own anguish. Numb to the idea of your own death too. Geumjae's already killed you in every way that matters.

Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite; give a girl an enemy and she'll do dangerous things.

Your meetings with the Don and beta always go the same; gossip, and greetings. Sometimes when you come bearing bruises, they tell you to wait just a little longer.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Just give it time for his temper to settle. Once you're mated it will get better.

Even Moonbyul and Hyejin tell you that planning the perfect crime takes time. That you'll be saved if you only wait. Help is coming.

Bullshit.

You’re tired of waiting for him to kill you, you're tired of waiting to die. You're smarter than all of them because you know exactly how to get everything you want and you're willing to do anything to get it.

The next time Moonbyul and Hyejin take you to the Don and Beta’s house under the guise of afternoon tea, you are prepared for war and dressed with revenge in mind. Your white dress knotted at the shoulders falling in a heavenly sheet, like an avenging angel, neither pious nor sinful.

You are a force of nature and nature does not ask when it takes lives.

What’s worse; the people that enable the abusers or the abusers themselves? Who is more to blame for the pain caused?

You are no longer hiding and you won't let them hide this time. The bruise on your cheek is purple and mottled, the rings of bruises on your wrists from his hands while he held you down.

When you smiled at Geumjae over breakfast this morning, there was only one thought in your mind.

You’re next.

Your agency looks like this; elegantly done hair your skirt a little short for fall. A basket of arsenic-backed goods in a basket as is usual. Fluffy pink cupcakes with the perfect Swiss meringue buttercream in little spirals.

A gentle smile at the beta when she opens her doors for you, letting the monster in, because you’ve been over enough times that she trusts you. You suppose that's your doing too, you've fooled her into thinking you're just another idiot girl who decided to marry rich and didn't bother to consider the strings attached. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you bare your teeth when you smile.

Hyejin has helped on that front; over the past few months, she has taught you exactly the kind of conversation that the beta likes- the useless conversations about family drama, the small little bits that you let through about your husband’s opinion on which pup is marrying whom, which alpha is good or bad for the packs near dozen omega pups that aren’t mated yet. Which alphas are likely to be a liability? This kind of gossip is all information and strategy.

You might have lied in your call to her and told her you were fearful of one of the younger ones- and a conversation you’d happened to witness on a street corner, a shadowy figure that looked a little too severe not to be the authorities. Of course, these kinds of things have to be handled with discretion and ginseng tea.

The Don does not bother to turn down the TV when you walk in, sitting vulnerable in his recliner with his feet up. It doesn’t appear that he has any sort of inclination or plans to interact with you when you sit here at his kitchen table and talk. Instead, he lounges and watches his sports, loud because his hearing is so bad, nearly deafening.

It’s good. hopefully anyone nearby will not overhear.

You hope that if this goes south before you have a chance to confess that they find the letter you wrote at home; the one that says your husband is the one that put you up to this.

You know that the pack’s retribution will be swift, that any sort of alibi he has will be null and void with the evidence you’ve been leaving. A little trail of breadcrumbs that leads right into a pretty little grave for your husband. Even if you won't be around to see it.

You're already a friend of pain. You already find comfort in it. If they kill you (which they will) then at least it will finally be over.

You wait until the moment you know is coming, when the Don looks over his shoulder at you and comands “Be a dear and bring me one.”

You put one of your artfully created confections on a pretty gold-rimed plate and walk to his side, you lean over to put it in his lap as he indicates. the same way he does every time you come over with sweets.

The lingering hand on your ass is hardly abnormal. behind you the beta's tea cup clinks as she sets her tea down and says nothing. even though you know she notices.

He’s so busy coping a feel he doesn’t notice your other hand, going to the syringe duck taped to your thigh.

It happens quicker than the Don can blink. The most powerful man in the underworld can't be bothered to protect his life for a pretty little piece of ass. You smile down at him, and his hand squeezes the round apple of your behind.

His hand is still on your ass when you whip your arm around with as much force as you can and drive the syringe and plunger into his neck.

You must have hit something in his neck because he barely has a second to splutter before he’s going still and quiet. Mouth falling horrifyingly slack. His breath rattles and his eyes dart as his whole body is paralyzed near instantly, in the time it takes for his blood to circulate.

Two paces, swing, plunge.

The beta barely has a second to scream or stand to attack you. You are so much younger than they are. Your body might be fragile and frail but It’s still stronger than hers. Her brief scream is easily drowned out by the scratch of the TV.

She ends up on the floor, the icing on the cupcakes sticky as she falls into half of them, tossed onto the floor by your brief tussle as you straddle her struggling form. Her pushing gets weaker and weaker and she sobs.

It doesn’t surprise you when you see the black tracery of a dying mating mark itching up her skin.

One thing that the family had always been oh so careful of was to talk only in their mother tongue around you. Secrets are best kept when they’re spoken in foreign tongues. It was a way to isolate you. To make them speak English for you to understand felt like a beholden request. At one point It was a point of insecurity for you, always left out of the loop, always relying on your husband to keep you in the know.

You bend over her as her pushing gets weaker and weaker, the arsenic doing its job, causing numbness and the tingling of extremities before it causes paralysis and then coma and death. Your hair falls in a sheet over the beta’s face.

You’ve studied much over the last few months. Enough that you lean in close over her and speak your words in perfect Korean.

“You look so angry,” you croon softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Spittle froths at her mouth as she breathes heavily. “You shouldn’t- if you want someone to blame you only need to look in the mirror.”

You lean in close until your lips brush her ear, “it's your fault you see- you're the one who lied" you mimic her voice, making it scratchy, "'just wait a little longer, it will be better for the family if you stay quiet." you laugh, "as if that where true, the only person it benefits is you. You where ready to let him hurt me and kill me if i just stayed quiet."

You wipe away a bit of spit from her lower lip, "You always told me how it was your duty to protect the family- but you only serve yourself. If you'd have done something, if you'd have helped me I wouldn't have had to do this. You just wanted me to shut up and die quietly.”

You switch back to English, “Well now it’s your turn.”

You watch her tongue go numb, paralyzed, but the poison hasn’t advanced far enough for her not to speak.

“Fucking- worthless bitch.”

You laugh and stand brushing some crumbs from your skirt. She’s already too weak to move, to shout, or fight you. You watch the light start to leave her eyes, winking out so slowly, like a dying star. But she still looks so pissed.

“You don’t have a right to be angry, you killed me first. You can’t blame me for fighting back.”

She gives her last breath and the TV plays on. Your shoe ticks her hand, her fingers twitching weakly. You watch as she gasps her last breath, a small smile on your face.

You sit at the table and turn the TV down. You wait a few minutes, but it quickly becomes an hour. You have yourself a nice little treat while you watch, turning the channel to a food network while you eat.

You really are a fantastic cook. The crumb on this batch is so nice you don’t even taste the metallic tang of poison. You eat through one, and then another, until the whole basket is empty.

Before you know it there is a concerned knock at the door. The lock clicks and turns when you answer it.

When Moonbyul opens the door, you laugh at the expression on her face. Licking the frosting from your lips. Even that is delicious.

She takes in their bodies, crumpled on the floor the frosting on your cheeks. The evidence. Both of them dying. A violence you cannot undo.

Her voice is somber. “Oh Pup, what have you done?”

~-~

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

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Notes:

this chapter is a very classic bily chapter, in the fact that there is a fuck ton of fluff and then bang the mafia bits just take you out. we needed to get back into the mafia bits of the story sooner rather than later though 💀

i felt like i was going a little too over the top with certain bits of puptalk in this chapter, but i really wanted to use it to show that like yeah- the pack has been treating her alot more gently since her breakdown, they've been babbying the fuck out of her, even if we don't get to see it :(

Hobi's texts are so???? Fucking cute?? He's so hopeless my god he wants to make her feel loved without actually saying it and i hope you read them and just go "oh, you're an idiot."

I have this whole elaborate backstory to how wonho's gym works with monthly subscriptions to classes where people can decide how many classes they want to take a week, ie gym dues for facilities and then discounted classes on top if they pay for it before hand, with several tiers.

this chapter almost feels clerical- this is definitely more of a set up chapter- where i needed to check off a lot of boxes, like hobi's courting present- before we go any further into the story. things are going to start amping up in terms of stakes pretty quickly.

That one part, where hobi is kinda malfunctioning after the m/c touches his cheek and everyone teases him feels the most representative of the pack as a whole. like that part where they're all replying- feels very real. i struggle a little to capture a sense of domesticity in concise ways, but i think this part is very tidy.

That little touch with hobi- where he touches her wrist and her finger, that touch has so much weight to it, i personally think the whole pack was tasting the sexual tension on the air, can you guys feel it too or is it all in my head?

idk why yoongi calling tae babygirl makes me so flustered but it does 🥵

i really wanted to work calling tae mommy into the chapter someway but tbh this chapter felt complex enough without it.

there is like- one plot hole in this whole story, and that is in the first chapter of the story when yoongi gets a call the person on the other line says "grandfather is dying." implying that his death wasn't instantaneous like this is shown to be. however, in my mind- the injections don't actually kill the don and beta but plunge them into a coma that they never wake up from- is this an actual possibility with arsenic poisoning- NO IT ISN'T lol, you're just going to have to suspend your disbelief for me.

the m/c has always been the person who killed the don and the beta- i've known this since like...maybe the 4th chapter? it wasn't in the og og plan for the story but almost everything in bily has been hammered out since then. and tbh you already knew she killed them just not that it was this violent! does this count as a secret???? idk! maybe!!!

she's a little murder baby just like minnie <3

405 notes · View notes