AHHH THIS IS SO GOOD! THE WAY IT ENDS?? IT HURTS OMG!

AHHH THIS IS SO GOOD! THE WAY IT ENDS?? IT HURTS OMG!

I want to see the pack be happy and sweet with her. The importance of her virginity and innocence is top tier!! Yoongi being the first one to show her pleasure. I can't ahhh.

Have you ever considered writing a regency au story? I feel like you would be amazing at it especially since your attention to detail is immaculate.

oh! i actually have a tiny little idea in my drafts- i will just post it here because i don't know if i'll ever finish it. Most of this was written after I watched the last season of Bridgeton. full transparency- this has no ending so be prepared to get to the end and want more. tw for spanking, age gap, themes of innocence and virginity and purity, marking, pack stuff and polyamory, also mentioned miscarrage!

Unnamed Regency Au (knj x reader) (backround ot7 x reader)

-I wanna write horny guilt with alpha duke namjoon in a bridgerton style a/b/o au who ends up in an arranged marriage with omega m/c only- dukes are allowed to take as many packmates as they want if they’re of lower status, but they are not allowed to mate or have pups with them.

-(although he had gotten a bit of untoward attention when he’d dragged viscount Jung along and convinced him and his omega to take up with him. alpha x alpha relationships are a little bit more taboo in this universe but tolerated on account of namjoon's rank)

-duke namjoon has no omega of his own despite the omegas in his pack- so he does what is expected of his station, finds one of good breeding, a true diamond untouched by all of the most pure hands only- has lived in a house of betas all her life, maybe he starts to court her but then can’t back out for this or that reason. but after a manufactured scandal where the mcs scheming mama or perhaps the queen- demands that namjoon marry her to save her standing-

-or else.

-And namjoon thinks, out of all the worse things, getting her away from people who clearly don’t have her best interest at heart- cannot be the worst. They've met and talked and danced together countless times over the season. if it weren't for her youth and the fact that it is her first year on the marriage mart, Namjoon would have little objection at marrying her. at least thats what his packmates tell him.

-and they're right, there is little reason why he should object only,

-it’s the hunger he feels watching her that has him keeping his distance. It feels like something feral, something dirty. namjoon is a gentleman but he feels his honor hanging by a thread every time he dares go near her. every time he catches her sweet scent on the air, a scent that no alpha has been allowed to smell but him.

-maybe thats how they meet- at the first ball of the season and namjoon cannot keep himself from telling the unmated omega how to apply the balmy scent blockers maybe even...helping her apply it. namjoon's fingers rubbing against her sensitive scent glands. A touch that burns and seems to stick to his hands for hours and hours and weeks after- until they meet again at another ball- and she very eagerly tells him- a good omega- eager to please eager to be good- that she's learned! isn't he proud! he doesn't need to protect her from any 'alphas of unscrupulous nature with improper delights on their mind' like he said before.

-nevermind the fact that one of those alpha's with improper delights stands right infront of her. An omega’s scent should be reserved only for their pack and husband, and yet- this unmatched omega- their scent is all namjoon can think about. It has his alpha clambering, begging to break free.

-Namjoon does protect her, keeping alphas away from her, any of them that would make a match to her. even if as he watches her from the shadows, a feral hunger unbecoming of a duke or civilized alpha building with every giggle.

-and then once they're married, you'd think that namjoon's guilt would be easier to bare, that he would feel better about taking what he is owed as mate and husband but...he doesn't break.

-Namjoon can’t think of debasing her, barely even kisses her on their wedding night, keeps her safe and pressed- just so- within the packs lavish country home where she wants for nothing accept her alphas company.

-the estate is wide and sprawling, with many many miles of gardens and wooded trails that keep her occupied and happy and…as far away from her husband as it takes for namjoon to stop feeling like he’s going to pop a knot in his britches if she so much as leans into him.

-And the rest of the pack! Namjoon has such a large pack- so against fashion. the m/c didn't meet any of them besides viscount jung when they where in town. There is no shortage of company at namkjoon's estate- either jiminie who wisks her away to measure her up for country dresses (thin and sheer- to tease the alpha)- jimin is viscount Jung’s omega- who was the omega of the house prior to her and namjoon’s mating (and who honestly still takes over most of the responsibilities of running the estate, only too happy to show the m/c the ropes and praise her for her choices in redecorating the lavender nesting room.

-and he's only mute to her quiet confidance- the young omega wife has many questions like- Why does her husband barely look in her direction? Why doesn’t he hold her hand or touch her cheek or take her on long romantic country walks like she reads in her novels.

-The only time he touches her is during balls- when the host and hostess are bound by duty to start the first dance, and namjoon’s eyes burn into her the whole while. His touches never wander, his hands never dip more than is appropriate or cling to her lialac colored skirts.

-she feels a little touch starved, a little unloved- but jimin tries to make up for it (and then scolds namjoon for it when he can sneak out of the nest room late at night and tell him off for not giving her affection. "She's freshly mated namjoon, her bond is still healing- if you don't sweeten on her omega- then they may reject you and the bond- regardless of what she and you both want. you don't want to make her mating mark sick namjoon- trust me, you don't" maybe jimin's hand hovers on his neck, and hoseok looks on, a darkness in his eyes that can't be helped by time

-(i'm thinking for their backstory, shortly after they mated hobi was sent away to war as commander, and because of the distance it was far harder on jimin adjusting to the mating mark, maybe they even lost their first pup because jimin's body was all screwed up- i know it's angsty but shush)

-She’s fast friends with the youngest packmate too- jungkook- who is more…casual with her than namjoon should allow. Jungkook is the only one whose not of noble birth- originally hired as stable hand and then earning the title of lord and a spot in namjoon’s pack after saving the alpha and the queens heir from a runaway horse.

-jungkook is…charming, shows her how to feed the horses sugar cubes and she shows him how to braid their hair- and then asks if she’ll braid his- long as it is. Although the others tease and he gets more than one long look from the staff over dinner, jungkook wears it all night.

-Jungkooks countinance is different than baron Tae- who delights her with tea and cakes and fine silks when he’s back from his travels, sweet sugary treats from cities far away. “Can I come with you next time you go?” Is immediately met with a “no” from namjoon, the tips of his ears red and his scent souring, he immediately excuses himself with a short “forgive me, I have some business to attend too with the viscount”

-that business happens to be pulling hoseokie into one corner of the manor and biting out his frustration- both sexual and otherwise, down the other alphas throat. “What do I do Seokie, how do i…be gentle when my alpha doesn’t want to be. I don’t want to hurt her.”

-“Bed her already namjoon and be done with it”

-“But her virtue-”

-“Namjoon, she is your wife and mate”

-“She’s barely out of pup hood hoseok”

-“As was jimin when we where wed,” viscount jung hesitates, “I do not believe you capable of the violence you are so scared of, namjoon you would not hurt a fly”

-“But-“

-“Enough, to bed with you to settle your nerves” hoseok doesn’t often get away with ordering namjoon around but just this once namjoon lets him.

-or prince min, another alpha and 30th in line for the throne that is countries away, who firmly takes her on those long walks she so desires to take with her husband, promenading with his strong arms wrapped around her waist, so firm and reassuring. Nothing if not proper. squeezes her hand and lets it go when she dares to cradle the scarred alpha's face.

-thats why yoongi was allowed to join namjoon's pack, his disfigurement was deemed too ugly for court, but the m/c doesn't think she's ever seen an alpha more gentle, more beautiful.

-another alpha who doesn't want her.

-“Namjoon has warned us, to be nothing but chaste and gentle with you” “he just wants to be careful with your virtue pup” “why? When my virtue is his?” “He’s a very, traditional alpha, he wants to do right by you and wait until you’re ready” "does he think me so young, so fragile that I cannot make the choice of if I am ready or not myself?”

-Okay so I know it’s horny, but is love if she got a little mouthy and yoongi was motivated to take her over his thigh and show her how disobedient omega's are treated in their household. her skirt and petty coat pulled up, tears in her eyes and slick on her thighs as he gives her gentle taps. She doesn't understand why her tummy feels so tight, why she feels so upset over it but also- petulant, needy.

-when he sets her down and pulls her skirts back in order and wipes her tears with his handkerchief and then drags her in for a quick nip to her scent gland. leaving her dizzy and nearly in heat from how good it feelt to have an alpha /touch/ her. nothing at all like how it felt to have the other omega's touch her.

-and she goes back a little teary eyed. a little upset, but jimin is there and she just laughs alone with tae tae when she talks about maybe /liking it/ and wanting yoongi to do it again but she doesn't understand. maybe both of them make her tell them and renact it out what yoongi did to her, all teaseing and falsely concerned. and both of them tell her that she's asking them when she should really be asking her husband, really, alpha has forbidden them from corrupting her.

-as if she wasn't already corrupted after they asked her to show them what yoongi did to her, hiking up her dress to show her reddened bottom, unsure why she's blushing, why their huffs of breath as they bend to look make her hands shake and her knees knit togeather.

-and of course that night, namjoon hears about it but can't really fault yoongi for punishing her, when he was especially gentle and maybe she's seen jimin get spanked before and had been explained the consequences of talking back because she "wanted to be treated as a full member of their pack"

-and maybe namjoon sneaks into her room to watch over her at night she lies awake. Wanting to turn and greet her husband but the one time she does…he runs, so she pretends to sleep while he sits in her sitting room and watches. His presence soft and so protective it makes her drowsy.

-sometimes one of the others catch him- hoseoks omega jimin who often sneaks into her room to nest with her, jimin in his fine silks that namjoon bought for him by the door, sharing a chaste evening scenting. “How is she?” namjoon is too hungry for information about her, too hungry for other things- which is why he must keep his distance.

-“She’s lonely your grace” “we’ve known each other for long enough jiminie” the same chide as always,

-“joon,” jimîn says, leaning against the doorway, “she’s curious, and I fear what secrets she will go about uncovering without her alphas hand to guide her in the right direction,” “jungkookie can-“

-“jungkook is nothing more than a pup and you know it, what kind of message will it send if you do not take what the queen has demanded is yours” and namjoon leans over her bed to get his hand on her cheek and it’s a struggle for her to keep her eyes closed and breathing undisturbed when he cups her cheek, long fingers skimming over it.

-“Can you really blame me? Look how peaceful she looks, how lovely, surely you cannot fault me for cherishing it, she looks so unbothered by ideals of love and my own short comings” “namjoon” namjoon smiles, sad,

-“every time I see her I want to draw her close, it’s maddening.”

-“So you stay far away?”

-"So i stay far far away."

(The only thing truly stoping me at this point is time- I don’t have time to give this the story it deserves)

OOOOH!

Before I Leave you (Pt. 74)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, implied d/s, Mommy kink, mommy tae, Brief daddy kink too 🥺, clothing control, implied omegaspace

W/c: 20.0k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You excuse yourself to change. But you find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff. Unsure why you’re so stressed, why you’re so anxious. An animal in your chest that just won’t stop clawing at your breath.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon knocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared. You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled and out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you by Namjoon but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your cheeks.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little.

“Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You don’t always have to know what you want, You don’t always have to want it- you can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark pur.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect."

Coming Saturday Aug 31 at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

So good ahh! Thank you!

I love the introduction. It feels a little like you were breaking the fourth wall since you mentioned that hobi missed the train in a different version before (right?). "His throat feels like it’s still swelling a little." I like this section since it's so tense and descriptive. I can kinda visualize it. "You’re wearing his sweatshirt and Yoongi’s jacket." Cute TT "(Don’t you know how rare good is for people like us? Don’t you want to hold onto it?)" Oof. "The last one in is the first one out. Hoseok knows you think this because he used to think that way too." They're so similar :( "Hoseok doesn’t like to cry- it’s too much like begging. His body asking for what he can’t." Relatable.

"Hoseok cups your cheek, long fingers rubbing your tears away. The pads of his fingers cradling your cheek. Soft skin, your cheeks have always been so soft." Aww. "I can't let you go." :( "There is one scar at the bottom of your hand and the bottom of his; a line across his right palm and a line across your left one- both gotten the night that you tried to take the train." "You’ve made your choice and Hoseok makes his. “Either together or not at all.” Damn their love story is so good omg.

"Your voice is so small and quiet, your palm in his tightens just a little bit. “How do I? How do I get out?" :( "How do you treasure the space between one motion ending and the other beginning? The end of one place and time and the beginning of another. " This was so good. I can't think of this from the "mind the gap". Big brain Li omg.

"Jimin falls into a squat the second he sees you. Head in his hands. Running through his hair and tugging. A cigarette discarded on the concrete bouncing before it rolls to a stop and burns." Hot. And here we go with Yoongi ahh. Scary. “I didn’t expect you to fucking leave me either but here we fucking are.” This one hit.

“You know- I’ve never wondered if you need me, but sometimes I wonder if you love me at all.” “I know you don’t love me the way that I love you- I’m not that dumb, but-" Noo, that's not true right?? Or exaggerated? :( “Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last 5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough to apologize and you don't make it easy- I don't-" This one also hit really hard. The last half ahh :(

"He doesn’t want your touch- the touch of someone who hurt him. This is the first time that Yoongi has denied you something so simple, something so habitual as your arms around his shoulders." Noo :( "Aren't you guys going to yell at me too?" Jungkook snorts, and when you pull back to look at his face, he doesn't look angry, he doesn't even look tired." "What I am gonna do is make you go work out with me. I'm gonna make you do like- so many burpees in punishment for making me run that early in the morning." Good old Jk loll

"The pervasive sound of wrenching can be heard echoing out into the porch, and a look inside says that Namjoon’s got a hand on Yoongi's back where he's bent over the sink" Noo poor Yoongi :/ "Willing to trade little 'I'm sorries' and the barest attempt at teasing after you'd gotten up to get a glass of water and they'd all flinched." :/

"Would it make you feel better if you put me in handcuffs?" "Only if they're the fuzzy ones." Lol The bunny drawing on the list lol (thought of you on my second read for this review lol) "You hear it differently than you did before; a cross between a snake's hiss and the purr of some dark-furred jungle cat." Ooh that sounds interesting.

“I think you’ll want to be patient for this alpha- or should I say omega.” Damn! What a starting line wow. "How about Minnie and mommy?”  How tf does Moonbyul know this? I wasn't expecting her to come to the pack house for negotiations wth?! "It’s a Sunday, isn’t it?" Ooh good paragraph. Jimin smoking is hot.

"But when you’re not watching- Yoongi watches you. Tensing with every step you take in the direction of the door, heaving a thankful sigh whenever you pass by it." Aww all the lines of him worrying about her is too cute.

"Even Namjoon's subtle agreement as he does the dishes makes Yoongi feel...Not better...but maybe a little less angry." Ooh ok. "You watch the pack put on the air of royalty." This section is interesting. “Cousin!” she starts, splaying her hands like she’s about to go in for a hug but Yoongi does not smile, Yoongi does nothing but glare at her until her smile and her hands both drop." Lol

"How stupid of him to think he was ready- that seeing her face after all these years wouldn’t hurt- that the fear wouldn’t be there- his breath hitches and-" Noo :(

"Before anything more can happen- before any jabs or warnings can be exchanged, a grey mass skitters across the floor. As quick as a bullet and twice as violent. Out for blood and the bringer of death." Go Noodle! Good job on biting her! SHES SO EVIL TO KICK HIM WTF?! Yoongi's threat is so perfect lol

"Moonbyul grins, “is it?” she drags a sharp nail over a groove in the table. A spot where a bullet or maybe a knife grazed it, probably from the last few days. " Scary. This bitch >:/ “Some would consider the very act of possessing something that’s mine violence and you have two things that belong to me.” Eww. "I don't log in every 36 hours, an email will be sent with pictures of her recipe book to the director of the FBI, and you'll go down for it." Ooh nice! I'm happy to see Jin's role in the FBI paying off here.

"Moonbyul goes quiet and for the first time but you know you have her backed into a corner with this." Yay! "“You’d let them do this for what? One female alpha to the other?” Moonbyul’s eyes are too empty for her to be totally honest." DISGUSTING! "“Sure they are. You chose to become a woman rather than stay a man because you liked the set of qualities your life could have as a woman better. That's no different from me choosing to be an alpha over an omega because it gave my pack and me the most security.” Oh fuck off omg.

“I’d still laser off your fingerprints if I were you.” Jimin is already planning on it." Ooh I didn't think about that. "“There is something in you that’s hungry pup- hungry for more than they can give you. And when they realize that- when they realize that you’re more like me than like Tae- Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for when you decide that this is not enough.” Wth?? You are way worse than mc omg.

“You weren’t the first.” What?! I guess that makes sense but damn. "Closure escapes him, just out of his fingers." :( And it's over wow. After all that stress, this "ending" feels a little weak but it's good.

"the very fist part of this chapter where hoseok and her are on the train was a part that i liked until final edits and then it felt??? idk??? clunky??? maybe a bit repetitive???? idk what it is and it's way too late to fix it T-T" Huhh?? It seemed good to me. "he might take it a bit too far in his reaction but tbh- i think we can cut him some slack for everything he's ever given to the m/c- all of the unconditional love." Yeah :(

the moment where hobi and the m/c are walking up to the car and yoongi is there i litterally see him puffing up like a studio ghibli charecter you know? or maybe like noodle whenever yoongi comes close." Cute lol

"honestly- the line where yoongi says that she doesn't love him like he loves her made me fucking sick when i wrote it like????" me too! TT "not me lowkey not giving them a happy ending." noo :/

"the line that yoongi says “Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last 5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough too apologize and-" is very much a refrence to what hoseok says to yoongi at the begining of the series" ohh that's so good!

"i think it's up to you if he goes too far when he's angry- but i do think it's very human of him to get so angry like...the m/c is his whole fucking world" yeah! "...he will get over it! don't worry! he's just momentarily angry!" i need to see it now TT

"the part between when the pack call her and she arrifes felt really clunky while i was editing it, i decided not to take it down too much because i wanted you guys to feel some of their anticipation- but maybe it's too much." I felt that it was a little long but it works. i think it's the wording? or because im impatient and want them to finish talking. idk. "fuck this bitch"- noodle probably" lol

"i also wanted to make the point with hobi and moonbyul's part at the end that sometimes the people who hurt you have no remorse, you don't get clousrure from them because they'll never admit that they shouldn't have done something. and the biggest closure that you can get is from giving yourself the strenght to let go. in a way- this directly contrasts the parts on the train in the begining. in order to heal a wound you have to stop touching it." damn. i wanted him to get closure but i shouldve known it wouldn't happen. moonbyul is a bitch >:( "it's all happy endings from here <3 Thank you for sticking with it!" YAY! LETS GOO!

Before I Leave You (Pt.69)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The pack meet with moonbyul to discuss terms.

Tags: Violence, Angst with the happy ending on the horizon, fluff if you squint, Yoongi gets really really angry and kinda triggers the m/c, allusions to past abuse, Blood, manipulative behavior, murderous tendencies, trans! tae, Transphobia, Trans! moonbyul,

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: wow something went heavily wrong with the formatting while i was editing this! if you notice any extra lines or weird breaks (especially on mobile) i tried my best! not sure what went wrong but i might just have to physically re-type this chapter again.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

I’ll let you in on a little secret: 

In every other version of this story, Hobi doesn’t get to the door in time. 

In every other version, the doors would close and Hoseok would hit them with his fists and yell. Screaming himself bloody and hoarse in the futility of it all. Watching as his future with you melts away at his fingertips like ocean foam, slipping away into the sea like a piece of clear sea glass, disappearing into the deep. They’d miss you at the next station and the one after that too. 

In every other version of reality, in every parallel universe, he's too late to save you. 

But in this one, he gets his pinky finger between the doors just before they slam shut.

The safety feature that keeps the train from closing on any late passengers shoots open with a hiss of compressed air. It's only open for a split second but Hoseok shoves himself through the 8-inch gap and into the warm interior of the train. Jungkook is left on the other side, banging on the door, running to keep up with the car as it thuds and lurches and starts to speed up.

"Next station" Jungkook’s mouth forms the words but Hoseok doesn't hear him say it over the roar of the train. There’s only a few seconds of them staring at each other. Jungkook’s messy hair flops as he runs. The wetness on his cheeks from frustrated tears glistening in the yellow sunlight before Jungkook runs out of the platform and is left standing there at the edge. Hoseok hurdles on. 

Hoseok’s blood is roaring in his ears. He puts his hands on his knees and pants. The thudding momentum of the train makes Hoseok fall over, either that or it's from lack of oxygen. One second he's looking at JK and then next he's sprawled on the dirty linoleum floor before he pulls himself upright.

His throat feels like it’s still swelling a little. He puts his hands there, trying to steady himself. Black spots dance in his vision and he catches himself for a second time on the metal rail as the train rolls and jostles.

When he coughs, there’s dark blood in the palm of his hands. Hoseok wipes it on his pajama pants and starts looking. 

He knows he must look like something horrific because an old woman in the first priority row looks at him with a crinkle of concern twisting her face. “Are you alright son?” She asks, voice squeaky.

“Yeah, just a rough morning” he grabs the back of her seat as he sways, steading himself for just a second before he uses the headrest of the seat to pull himself back down the train. 

Hobi combs through the train cars slowly, betting that you'll be close to the end. He takes the longer route first, better to go down to the end and work his way back up in case you're in the first three cars, just in case you decide to get off at the next station.

He searches and searches until the fear starts to take hold in his stomach, nausea or maybe it’s just motion sickness.

He draws a bit of attention as he moves. Mostly from adults, the little unpresented pups that jump back and forth between the seats without a care in the world don’t find the bruises on his neck anything out of the ordinary. But an omega pulls his pups into his lap at Hoseok's approach. Hoseok is too sick with worry to pay them any mind. 

But Hoseok doesn't need to worry, because he finds you on the fifth train car.

The blue sticky vinyl seats are full of all sorts of people; A stuffy alpha in a suit and a pair of bright yellow headphones. A small elderly omega woman with a big bushel of frizzy hair and about 10 tote bags to her name muddles through her morning commute. Two freshly presented teenagers with patched-up jackets, punky and honest in their aesthetic.  

But there- at the end of the car where the booth seats facing each other turn into single rows all facing the same direction. Folded into the window a figure in dark clothes hunched over trying to look as small as possible. Trying to disappear. 

Trying to hide. 

Anyone would be able to scent the clear and clary smell of distress and loneliness on the air. It’s the same scent that soaks Namjoon’s hospital- noxious and pungent. It hits Hoseok with such a visceral wave that he almost falls over again. 

You’re wearing his sweatshirt and Yoongi’s jacket. The hood drawn up over your head to hide your sob blotchy face from the strangers. Sniffling as you look out the window. He sees you wipe your eyes. You don't look up at all. You don't even notice Hobi approaching until he's slipping into the seat next to you and sliding his hand to lace through yours. His knuckle, your knuckle, then his. 

You startle. Predictably- your fear response has always been a little bit over the top. You flinch, whirling, starting when you see it’s him. Jerking your hand out of his on instinct and nearly backing yourself into the window. Getting yourself as far away from him on the narrow seat as possible. 

He wants to yell at you, he wants to shout at how stupid you are for leaving something good. (Don’t you know how rare good is for people like us? Don’t you want to hold onto it?) All of the shit with his ex- with Moonbyul seems impossible- but you sacrificing yourself for others is not hard for Hobi to believe. That part of this is so painfully logical and so painfully you that if Hobi were less scared right now he might start crying.

You've always thought you were less valuable, less necessary, less loved by the pack. The last one in is the first one out. Hoseok knows you think this because he used to think that way too.

He wants to yell at you but instead his voice comes out soft, the way that the others used to talk to you back when you didn’t speak. Like he's comforting a startled animal. You are a startled animal. 

"You used the train ticket" He swallows. It stings. Hurts like a bitch really. Every time he speaks it hurts. "I never thought you'd use it."

Hoseok puts his hand on the seat in front of you blocking you as you try and get up and out of your seat. Moving automatically to get away- to get safe. That might be all that you know how to do- keep yourself safe.

You stand there for a second, in stalemate. Blood drains from your face, and you stare each other down as Hoseok goes from devastated to angry and then sad again. Struggling not to cry. Hoseok doesn’t like to cry- it’s too much like begging. His body asking for what he can’t. 

It’s quiet, you have to be quiet here. There aren’t too many people but a few rows in front of you is a pair of alpha's in suits with briefcases. Unseemly eyes could be hidden everywhere so you need to be quiet. Hoseok's voice is quiet anyway. He still can’t speak much above a whisper. 

No quicker have you startled than you start to push at him, at his shoulders. Literally trying to push him out of the chair. Shaking your head. "You can't be here Hobi you have to go, they'll kill you-" You start to pull him up to his feet but he makes himself a lead weight. 

“No- no I’m not going to let you go.” Hoseok cups your cheek, long fingers rubbing your tears away. The pads of his fingers cradling your cheek. Soft skin, your cheeks have always been so soft. Hobi’s brain gets caught on the sensation. 

"This is how this is going to work; we're going to get off at the train station- and then with any luck- Yoongi and Jimin and Jungkook will already be there and we're going to go home, okay?" He tilts his face, trying to get a better look under your hood, lower lip wobbling, voice breaking, “You have to come home with me, okay?” 

You’re trembling so hard that Hobi can feel it as he holds your face, shaking your head stubbornly. 

"Hobi, if I don't go. Jimin’s going to die, you're going to die, Jin’s going to die. I can't not do something. Don't pretend one life outweighs three." 

"I can't let you go."

You lean into his hand. Has Hoseok ever cupped your cheek before or is the first time he's touched you this way? He can't remember. There are so many firsts that he can't remember. So many firsts that haven't happened yet. Slipping through his fingers like water. 

"And I can't let you die." 

Hoseok holds your cheeks, thumbs skimming up and down your cheekbones, a little more hollow than usual. These last few days have stretched all of you thin and honest. The truth does not feed you, like subsiding off of air. This truth is not one that he wants to share but-

Yoongi had looked a little shocked when he’d told him, that kind of shock that sort of feels vindicating- like you matter. Hoseok doesn't understand why Moonbyul being his ex matters. But Yoongi's reaction makes him think it is. 

The light fills the train car honey golden slipping away to the clean brightness of a winter day. The light flashing through the trees like some sort of strobe light, flickering across both of you here- at the back of the train where there is no one to overhear. 

Hoseok pulls himself closer to you, his lips brushing your ear. "I never told you- the name of my old pack omega but I think you know her.” 

The train hisses and shrieks and your hand settles over Hoseok’s bruised wrist. 

“I think you know her very very well because Yoongi said you do." 

Hoseok pulls you flush against him, across the seat, your foot hitting his ankle, and whispers it into your ear. 

"Her name was Moon Byul-yi." 

You freeze in his hold, trembling, and he pulls away to watch the visceral realization dawn on your face. You're smart. The Moonbyul he knew would have never thought to anticipate that either of you was smart. Haughty and superior to the last inch. She’d have assumed that she had the upper hand like all narcissists do. Why would prey know anything about the hunt?

You panic, your conviction is slipping away, Hoseok can see you’re struggling to hold onto it. “Hoseok- you don’t understand, I have to do this, I need to.”

He takes your hand in his. “Okay- if you want to go then I’m coming with you.”

“Hoseok.”

He shakes his head and brings the back of your hand up to his mouth to run his lips along your knuckles. Gripping it tight. Your bones and his bones all aligned, the sunburn on the back of his hands that’s always sort of there from driving and the faint scars that line your hands from cooking. Both self-inflicted and accidental.

(Love is that way too, either something that you seek out or something that happens to you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to Hoseok, you could never be the worst).

There is one scar at the bottom of your hand and the bottom of his; a line across his right palm and a line across your left one- both gotten the night that you tried to take the train. You didn’t take the train then but you’ve taken it now.

You’ve made your choice and Hoseok makes his. “Either together or not at all.”

Hoseok rationalizes it by thinking- If you were going back to Geumjae and if he was still alive, you’d never let him walk into his clutches. You would never let Geumjae lay a hand on him, so he won’t let you go to her. Will do everything in his power to get you off of this fucking train.

“I’m sorry, Hobi- I’m-”

He pulls himself closer to you. Lips touching your temple just like the sunlight. Your warm thigh pressed to his warm thigh.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing to make up for. If we want to survive this then we need to do it together.” Hoseok presses a kiss to your hairline and lets it linger there. “I won't haunt you if you won't haunt me."

“You don’t understand-“ 

“Why? Why do you have to be the one? If you can answer me that honestly and in a way that makes sense, then I’ll let you go.” Hoseok says the words as he drags his nose across your hairline in a small scent mark. A growl rolling in his throat. His hand itching towards the back of your neck- if he were able to scruff you- he could drag you off this train with or without your say-so. 

Hoseok won't do that to you unless it's absolutely necessary. He won't scruff you maliciously but honestly, he'd damn the consequences at this point. You know the risks, and yet you let his hand settle on the back of your neck. He doesn't scruff you yet.

You are on the train now, but you could get off of it. Hoseok managed to convince you once he can convince you again. You do not respond to him, but he doesn’t need you to. He continues on word vomiting out his feelings. Drenched half in panic and half in fear that if he stops talking you’ll tell him something heartbreaking. Hoseok can’t handle any more heartbreak today. 

"I know you’ve been in a lot of pain. I’ve known it since the first day I met you. But this self-sabotage- sacrificing yourself because you think your life isn't worth risking the rest of ours- this isn’t the way to do it. This isn’t the way that you get out.” 

This is the question that you’ve been asking the whole time he’s known you. All of this is just trying to get out of the holes that you dig for yourself. The graves that you haunt. Graves of things that might have been and the things that should or shouldn’t have happened to you.

Your voice is so small and quiet, your palm in his tightens just a little bit. “How do I? How do I get out?” 

"You can start by just getting off this fucking train."

You eye him like you think it’s impossible like it can’t possibly be that easy.

The announcer overhead is telling you you’re almost to the next stop. To mind the gap and such. The same way people mind children and precious objects. Mind the gap. Such a strange turn of phrase. How do you treasure the space between one motion ending and the other beginning? The end of one place and time and the beginning of another. 

“How do I do it? How do I-” 

Hoseok laces his hand with yours again and pulls you up onto your feet. The train is slowing. “I’ll show you just- follow me. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you. 

You do follow Hobi, you follow Hobi off the train as he coxes you softly onto the platform and onto the frosty tracks. It’s mid morning by now and the sun is streaming in that bright yellow way when he tugs you up the stairs slow. Slow because he still has to. His body aches from yesterday. Both of you are bruised and tired but together. Clinging to each other- his hand and your hand and not a breath of space between.  

In the parking lot, there is a red car double parked across the lines closest to the stairs. Jimin and Yoongi and Jungkook are already standing outside, the doors blown open. Jimin falls into a squat the second he sees you. Head in his hands. Running through his hair and tugging. A cigarette discarded on the concrete bouncing before it rolls to a stop and burns.

“Oh thank fucking god, Tae would have fucking killed me-” 

Jungkook groans and rests his head on the hood of the car, hitting it with an open-palmed slap. It echoes in the empty parking lot.

"That sentence is substantially less funny today than it would have been yesterday.” 

Yoongi is just staring at you fists and shoulders tight. You watch him swell the closer that you walk. Every step made in trepidation. He's breathing heavy, eyes wild with panic and anger and his hair stands on end. His eyes are bloodshot and his scent is almost acidly salty. The kind of salt that guides metal to rust and break. The salt that melts cities. That crunches under your feet next to dark puddles from snowmelt. 

When you're 3 paces away he seems to break, stalking up to you and jabbing a finger in your face. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I swear I’ll-” Yoongi breaks himself off. Shaking so viscerally that it's hard for you to keep your hands by your side. but you stand your ground as Hoseok swats yoongi's jabbed finger away. his other hand tightly laced with yours.

“Yoongi, let’s just get into the car and go home- please. Let's not talk about this here.” The parking lot is mostly empty, but the danger still lingers. There’s too much to talk about. Moonbyul's name rings in Hoseok's ears like the subtle hum of hearing loss, like a high-pitched shriek. There are things more important than Yoongi's anger. 

But Yoongi’s not done with you- oh- he’s boiling with rage. Shaking with it as he opens the door for you, every action, every little moment restrained. His anger is palpable. You get into the back of the Lamborghini and Hobi follows.

You can tell he wants to slam the door but doesn't. He shuts it extra extra soft but you flinch anyway. He gets into the driver's seat every moment controlled but tense, like he'll explode if he moves with any more energy than necessary, a firework with a fuse burned all the way down just begging for heat.

Yoongi waits for everyone to buckle their seat belt but you don’t, frozen watching him in the window and then the rearview mirror when he gets into the front seat. Yoongi doesn’t even get around to starting the car. Sliding the key home but the beep goes once, twice, and then a third time because you don't have your seatbelt buckled. The others wait in silence.

“Yoongi-“

“Fuck!” He kicks open his door again with a stream of spat explicatives. Slamming it shut this time. The others don't say anything, completely silent in the face of his anger.

Yoongi doesn't get angry. You've never seen him like this before. He wrenches your door open and for a horrible moment, you think he's going to yank you out of the car and tell you to get lost.

Yoongi's murmuring things to himself, so low that you almost can't make out what he's saying as he pushes himself into the backseat. The backseat of the Lambo isn’t that large. Hardly big enough to fit two people let alone four.

Jungkook lets out a belated “Hey!” at being squished up against the door but Hoseok just reaches around him and unlocks it for him to get out. Jimin is already out of the passenger seat and heading in the direction of the driver's side as Yoongi scrambles with your seat belt, jerking it over your shoulder and slamming it home.

"-Fucking asshole- of all the stupid omegas in the world I had to be mated to the fucking- dumbest- little- fucking-" The belt digs into your shoulder extra tight and Jimin starts the car wordlessly. 

You're closed in on both sides by him and Hobi on the other. They switch and shuffle. Jimin pulls away from the train station, gentler this time but still faster and with more finesse than you'd do it. Yoongi is still looking at you, glaring, tears in his eyes with wet cheeks, his voice low and uncompromising. 

“Give me your phone.” 

“My what?”

“Your. Phone. You used it to call her didn’t you?” You nod after a second, slowly pulling it from your sweatshirt pocket and handing it over. 

Yoongi takes your phone and breaks it over his thigh.

It’s a bit impressive really- the show of strength. He brings it down once and the screen breaks, winking out like a shooting star. Another and it bends just a little, a third time- and it's practically at a right angle. It breaks so easily in the face of adrenaline and anger and fear. 

You make a small noise, not a whimper but a descending sound. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at you, wild. Like he’ll break even further if you complain. Hoseok’s not sure he’s ever seen Yoongi this broken.

"Just- There were pictures of Noodle and Tae on there.”

Fear and anger are an intoxicating mix to anyone- let alone someone who almost lost their person. He goes at your phone until its jagged edge bites into his hand drawing blood. Then he tosses both pieces of your phone onto the floor of the car like they're paperweights.

One of the pieces hits your shoe with a small metal clink, and even Hobi looks down in surprise at the sound. 

Yoongi laughs and then bends over. Yanking the gun out of your boot. Small, shoved there. Hoseok didn’t notice. He's not sure why it surprises him- that you'd be armed. You're not an idiot, you know the risks, and you were armed the last time that you tried to run away.  

He holds it out to you, long fingers wrapped around the barrel pointed at his chest. The handle facing you, the barrel of the gun level with his heart.

“You want to do the honors sweetheart?"

Jungkook’s worrying away at his lower lip, turning around, nervous. “Yoongi-" but Yoongi just holds a finger out, cutting him off. He's watching you, waiting to see what you'll do.

Jimin very gently reaches back and takes the gun from Yoongi. The beta lets him. Jimin flicks the safety off with a twitch of his thumb. And takes out the magazine one-handed that he hands to Jungkook before he puts the body of the gun barrel down in the cup holder where it rattles freely. 

“Don’t fucking do that. we do not point guns at ourselves or each other in this pack.” 

Yoongi hardly looks mad, he hardly reacts to Jimin at all. Jungkook's eyes flicker nervously from Jimin to Yoongi, then to Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin's flush sits on the top of his cheekbones, "Jin-hyung gets a pass obviously."

You quirk an eyebrow at your mate, not impressed in the slightest, not even intimidated truly. Hoseok doesn’t think you’ve fought since you tried to leave the first time. 

“You didn’t really expect me to go unarmed, did you? Thought I could at least take one of them out- at least Moonbyul before they-” Jimin breathes hard through his teeth and Hoseok actually laughs, although he sounds a little unhinged. Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, pulling a little.

“I didn’t expect you to fucking leave me either but here we fucking are.” Yoongi has never raised his voice with you- he never raises his voice period. But anger and terror have made his words sloppy where usually they strike exact.

In the mirror, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench as Jimin accelerates home a little faster. Yoongi crowds you against Hoseok. Resting his forehead against yours, you can hear the grit in his teeth as he grinds them together nearly spitting, but it’s quiet. 

“If you try something like that again, you will see a side of me that I do not want to show you. Do you understand?” 

That makes you unnerved, and makes your lower lip start to tremble. Your “Yes.” Comes out so quiet that Hoseok is sure Jimin and Jungkook can't hear it in the front seat over the Lambo's purr. 

You’re unable to meet his eyes, Yoongi has never been rough with you, but he’s shaking with the effort to hold himself back from screaming, yelling, crying. There are no words for you, no words that he could ever say that might hold you. He is so angry he can’t even fucking speak. 

For a terrible moment, you think that he's going to hit the seat in front of you. But then he tucks your hair behind your ear out of your face so that he can look at you properly. 

This is Yoongi's karma for leaving the pack all those months ago. He's come to know their pain so keenly, this was only a few hours of what they endured but still- this is exactly like that. 

“You know- I’ve never wondered if you need me, but sometimes I wonder if you love me at all.”

His hand slides down your cheek, gentle in the way that he goes, and it hurts so much more than a slap or punch ever would. It stings. Everywhere Yoongi touches you stings. 

“I know you don’t love me the way that I love you- I’m not that dumb, but-" 

Your face screws into a whimper, and you can't whisper out that you're sorry quick enough. Yoongi guides your forehead back to rest against his. Still angry, still spitting the words like they take something from him. You should deny what he says and you want to, but you’re mute in the face of your mate's anger.    "How many hours do you think will exist between your death and mine?”   You’re silent as Jimin drives, but his eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. You don’t see any pity in his eyes maybe because Yoongi, like you, had nearly left them broken. Had actually left and stayed gone. Yoongi will never quite deserve pity for words like those. Yoongi directs your face away from Jimin and back to his.

“How many god damn it!” He grips your cheeks, gentle, fingers that touch so softly, that cradle you, shaking all the while. 

“Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last 5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough to apologize and you don't make it easy- I don't-

"Yoongi. That is enough." 

Jimin is steely. Cutting him off before Yoongi can say something that he regrets and that he doesn't mean. But Yoongi won’t continue anyway. He's crying so hard he can’t see your face, can’t even see the way that you crumple.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder for the remainder of the drive. Pushing away your hands every time you try and wrap them around him until you’re crying with how frustrated you are. Keeping that one point of contact only, his crumpled face pressed against your mating mark. 

He doesn’t want your touch- the touch of someone who hurt him. This is the first time that Yoongi has denied you something so simple, something so habitual as your arms around his shoulders. 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, your words come too late. "I'm sorry, i'm so sorry Yoongi I didn't mean- please believe me- I didn't- Please i'm so sorry-"

It’s a pity isn’t it; someone always has to love the other more. This is the oldest story, and there is no other story. Karma comes just in time or not at all. But right now? Right now it does not feel nice being Yoongi’s karma for leaving the pack all those months ago. 

The car ride is mostly silent for the rest of the drive. The car has barely stopped when Yoongi scrambles to get out. The car door flings open with the momentum of Jimin stopping. The hood is hot when he skims his fingers across it steadying himself to round it and dash inside.

Your hands shake too hard to unbuckle yourself as Yoongi hurries, he almost runs. Hoseok gets out of the car, shouting "Yoongi!" but your mate doesn't turn around, doesn't do anything but barrel past the others. Pushing away their worried questions and hands to get inside the house. 

The bindings on your hands are already bleeding a little bit, your hands chubby and swollen, and unable to see the seat buckle as you claw at it. 

A warm chest hits the side of your face as strong arms reach around you. Jungkook unbuckles you, close and filling the backseat in Yoongi's absence. He holds you for a second, giving you a squeeze and a sideways hug. "Just give him a second it’s gonna be alright." 

You stare at Jungkook for a second. Wiping your tears away with a curled fist. He looks tired. “I mean you’re literally his mate so- it's not like he can really...” Jungkook trails off, and the keys jingle in Jimin's hands as he waits. mute and unreadable, staring at the steps where tae stands with Jin and Namjoon.

"Aren't you guys going to yell at me too?" Jungkook snorts, and when you pull back to look at his face, he doesn't look angry, he doesn't even look tired. 

"That wouldn't solve anything." Your face crumples further, but Jungkook just starts to pull you to the edge of the leather seat to hug you better under the guise of firmly setting you on your feet. 

"What I am gonna do is make you go work out with me. I'm gonna make you do like- so many burpees in punishment for making me run that early in the morning."

You laugh wetly and Jungkook giggles, nuzzling the top of your head. Gripping around your waist to pick you up just a little. 

Jin looks just as puffed up as Yoongi but so much less angry, wrapped in your big blue blanket like a cape, a corner pulled over his head and ears like a hood, his fluffy bunny slippers poking out below.

The wooden planks of the deck have dried in the winter sunlight and Tae is barefoot where she stands, silk robe too thin for the winter chill. looking at you with that same hollow look she’s had for the last day.

Jin doesn’t try to grab Yoongi as he stalks past. Namjoon sends a conflicted glance at him and then at you. His shoulders are pinned up by his ears, the scraggly five o'clock shadow he wears looks tear tacky. He looks at you for a single second but then heads into the house after your mate. You blanch, but you're not surprised that Namjoon needs a second before he talks to you too. 

The pervasive sound of wrenching can be heard echoing out into the porch, and a look inside says that Namjoon’s got a hand on Yoongi's back where he's bent over the sink. Throwing up nothing because your mate had hardly eaten last night- worried about you and Hobi. You've never felt more undeserving of him, the guilt hits you harder than any words ever could.

You swallow at the bottom of the steps. Hoseok and Jungkook and Jimin behind you, hand on the small of your back urging you forward gently. Willing to let you stray more than a few steps away after chasing you down.

Jin is extra tall and on the upper step, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face, he places a hand over the back of your neck scruffing you smoothly and evenly until you almost fall, knees already shaky. Jungkook steps up and grabs you before you hit the floor. But Jin just stoops. Lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“When this is over, when everyone is safe, we’re going to have a long long talk about this. About why pups don’t make decisions on their own. Give me your phone.”

You can hear Jimin’s grimace in his voice, “Yoongi already broke it.” 

“Are you angry with me?” You ask lower lip wobbling, tears drifting down your nose, “Please don’t be angry with me- please-” Jin squeezes the nape of your neck again, harder. You see sparkles in your vision- your body compensating for Jin's touch even though you're so tired you feel like you might pass out. You easily submit to the scruff, you'll do anything Jin asks right now just to temper his disappointment.

Hoseok grabs under your elbows to keep you standing. Between him and Jin and Jungkook- you’re a soggy little bundle of omegas. You don’t see it, but from the railing, Tae cups Jimin’s cheek. 

Jin croons. “Hush pup. Come inside where it's warm. We've got a lot to talk about- mostly what we can do besides make rash decisions like that." 

Hoseok's hand is on Jin's wrist before he has a chance to continue. Eyes bright with something that looks an awful lot like hope. 

"About that..." Hoseok gulps, “We think we figured out how to get out of this Jinnie. I have to talk to Yoongi about it again but-” Jin tugs Hoseok onto his other shoulder.

“I think we’ve figured a way out of this.”  

You sniffle where you're tucked against Jin's chest, but you’re right next to his scent gland when it swells with pride, sweet and milky. Jin runs the back of his hand softly over Hoseok's warm cheeks, and croons.

“Good puppy.”

~-~

The next time you call Moonbyul, you’re all sitting around the dining room table. The blinds are drawn and Noodle has been fed. Jimin’s collection of guns lay on the table in several neat little rows, the barrels of them pointed in the same direction like the legs of some long-dead arachnid. 

A list of demands and a dialogue are written out in front of you but they're not for you. Jin and Yoongi will be doing most of the talking. You've done nothing for the last hour it took to hatch the plan other than sit obediently at the reach of your alphas. Willing to trade little 'I'm sorries' and the barest attempt at teasing after you'd gotten up to get a glass of water and they'd all flinched. Jimin had even gotten up and out of his chair before shaking his head and sitting back down. instincts reacting to your movement before his brain caught up.

"Would it make you feel better if you put me in handcuffs?"

"Only if they're the fuzzy ones." 

"Jk- now is not the time.”

All in all, Jungkook and Hobi seem to be the ones who are the least angry at you for trying to pull that stunt. Jimin's just a little more tactile with you than usual pulling you to sit close to him at the table. rubbing over your knee. Fiddling with your hands and gently avoiding the wounds there.

Namjoon still can't look at you, eyes flickering away every time you speak. Not angry- but maybe still upset- still working through his feelings. 

There are more important things to work through; the plan, the facts of what you know, a list with numbers sit next to your dialogue. The facts of everything connected with arrows and different handwriting and a good bit of doodles- courtesy of Jungkook and Tae (and you- when she'd prodded). 

Your list goes like this:

Moonbyul is not an alpha (verified by Hobi) (ew it's so gross to think of you with another omega hyung)

Only an alpha can rule the family. (That's a little sexist) (I didn't write the rules Tae)

LEVERAGE. 

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ (JK- stop doodling on official FBI documents.) 

Yoongi hasn't spoken a word to you since he came inside the house and you don't expect him to right now. That’s hardly the most important matter at hand. Baby steps.

Baby steps. 

You call her with Jimin’s work burner. The one he keeps in his car and uses exclusively for instructions about which murder and which target needs to be taken out. Moonbyul answers on the first ring and guesses it’s you before you even have a chance to speak. The others had unanimously decided that you wouldn't be speaking for this conversation. You don't mind sitting back for this. 

Whatever makes them happy, whatever makes them feel better. 

Her voice strikes a chill down your spine, now that you know that she's the one who hurt Hobi. It's her he sees behind his eyes on his worst days and it's her voice he hears when his internal monologue becomes vicious and self-shaming. You hear it differently than you did before; a cross between a snake's hiss and the purr of some dark-furred jungle cat. 

“Any much longer and you’re going to be late pup, you know how impatient I can be.” 

It's surprisingly difficult to not give her a piece of your mind. Your hands tighten into fists, your bones and skin all tight where you'd hurt your hands. But before your knuckles can even go white a big hand covers yours, prying your fingers apart so that your fingernails don't dig into the gauze, still bloody. You look up at Namjoon. He shakes his head, just a little, and you relax your hands.

Yoongi leans over the table so that his voice comes across clearer over the speakerphone. 

“I think you’ll want to be patient for this alpha- or should I say omega.” 

Hoseok holds the edge of the table hard, leaning in too. He's sure the hitch of his breath must be audible over the phone. But Moonbyul doesn't remark on it. Jin’s hand remains settled on the nape of his neck and you wish you were sitting next to him too.

Yoongi scoots himself closer to the edge of the table. On the side opposite from you. “The claws of an alpha don’t suit you, cousin.”  

Moonbyul laughs and none of you smile. The tone of her voice shifts, a bit more serious. “They fit me better than they'd fit you. Let me see how deep your bite is or should I ask Hoseok? Is that pup there? How about Minnie and mommy?” 

Tae folds her hands over her chest, affronted, but doesn't speak either. Your hand goes hard on Namjoon's wrist and he grips yours back just as hard. Holding out his hand for Hobi's across the table. 

You open your mouth to retaliate- for the comment on Tae alone (you're not sure how Moonbyul found out about your nickname for her) but Jimin mouths across the table, “Don’t” You're all silent, waiting for her next move.

Jin's FBI training kicks in. Negotiation and kidnappings had been a course he'd been required to take during his orientation to the fbi. and his voice is measured and polite.

"I think we're past the point of petty jabs and assassin's, aren't we? Let's talk, pack omega to pack omega."

“You want to parley then? Make a deal?”

Jin drums his hands across the table. Nervous but his voice doesn't shake, not even a little bit.

“This has gone on for long enough. Let’s meet.”

~-~   Moonbyul comes in with the quiet. 

The hours drag on in the space before she arrives at the house. The pack perks up in the direction of every errant sound or neighbor in your cul-de-sac. The sound of the little kids across the street leaving for Saturday morning sports, of the dull scape of someone shoveling out their driveway, the rumbling of distant cars on the highway.

It’s a Sunday, isn’t it? Strange, that this kind of thing should happen on a Sunday. Jimin stares out at the driveway, leaning against the railing, and thinks it must be some sort of punishment both wretched and divine. He smokes his cigarette, spitting the smoke out like he's burning, and shakes off the shivers of a god he doesn't believe in.

He finishes his cigarette, then he and the others and ready the house for Moonbyul’s arrival. 

Hobi feels every tick of the clock like the beat of his heart knowing that she’s on her way. She’d started driving after Jimin had shown her a video of his guns being thrown into the river. A meeting without any weapons will be as safe as anyone can get.

But still- the pack isn't stupid. Hobi watches from the kitchen as Jin tapes the pack’s sharpest and largest kitchen knife under the kitchen table in front of his seat as well as Jimin’s and Yoongi’s just in case. 

Allowing her inside the den goes against every instinct. To have their softest most safe place violated by the presence of someone who has hurt them like this. It's almost too much. But to have the upper hand and have this meeting on their turf is more than they’ve hoped for. So Namjoon restrains his growls, hand still held in yours at the table. After a tangle of so many hours and days of all this violence, the pack takes their chances for a way out. 

You'd discussed the meeting happening at the house before you'd even called and agreed. Talked it out between the eight of you the idea location for any meet up. Only Namjoon was against it- but he's been overruled by Jin and Yoongi.

You’d remained mostly silent and agreed with Yoongi when it came to a vote. Warm big eyes on him, waiting for a hint of approval that never came. Jimin thinks that wound is going to take more than simple obedience to heal. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to think, or what to do. Jin and Jimin take over most of the planning as far as what’s going to be said and how. Everything needs to be carefully orchestrated for this to not go poorly. Everyone needs to be on their best behavior. 

But there is hope here, on the edge of their scheming is a plan that might work- this might really work. You all might get out of this unscathed. Even Yoongi who’s never taken a simple breath outside of this life of murder and secrets. Who has had this violence built into his blood from the moment he was born. Yoongi was born a liar. Yoongi always thought that he'd live and die belonging to his family- at the will of their beck and call.

Now he's not so sure. 

He feels like he’s hyper-aware of you, in your orbit the way an addict is always aware of how little or lot is left of a drug. Every twitch and movement of your body sets him on edge. But when you’re not watching- Yoongi watches you. Tensing with every step you take in the direction of the door, heaving a thankful sigh whenever you pass by it. 

He tries not to touch you but it’s hard. He’d taken your shoes and locked them in the closet upstairs, it's silly but it's necessary.

His pulse is still beating so fast that it scares him a little. The mating mark at his hip aches with every step, he wonders if yours aches with every word or breath. Pressed there against your throat where he'd kissed countless times, where he'd nuzzled sleeplessly just last night. Breathing in your scent because it soothed him. 

It still soothes him, even if he doesn't want it to. 

Yoongi spends every few minutes bent over the kitchen sink or the toilet, the revulsion curling up in his gut like a snake dragging its teeth down the sides of his heart. You’d left him again, actually left him again. Yoongi wants to scream and cry but- 

But there are moments of you saying you’re sorry- to Tae, to Jimin, and Jungkook- who stubbornly wraps his arms around your back like a living blanket and makes you stoop forward with his weight. Or Jimin who rubs his chin across the top of your head and jostles you with the aggressiveness of his scent mark, catching your wrists in both of his hands roughly in a way that almost- almost has Yoongi intervening. He's just clumsy and tired. 

All of you are. 

There are other moments of Jin lingering close, speaking to you in the soft stern way that has you deflating that makes Yoongi’s body hum in that mate way- that way that lets him know you need him. 

Namjoon hasn't changed the bandages on your hands yet, even though there's a tiny bit of blood on your right one. Yoongi wants to ask him to change it out but can't make his mouth form the words. 

Hobi watches you from wear he rests against the couch, pointedly not sitting on the spot that Jin cleaned of blood. Holding a bit of ice to his throat and sipping on water. Able to talk now- for real. Voice strengthening with every minute. 

Yoongi pauses by his side and asks, loud enough for you to overhear "aren't you angry?" Hoseok doesn't miss the way your shoulders tense. You’re looking over things and talking with Jin and Jimin, clarifying something- some rules about the family that only you and Yoongi know of. There are documents on the table with the title FBI property- do not reproduce or take off premises. 

He tips his head back against the back of the couch, Hoseok’s legs sprawled out, aching from running so hard and so fast and being so out of practice with it. Fuck- Hoseok is so tired. So anxious and so keyed up by the knowledge that Moonbyul will be here within the next hour. He yawns in Yoongi’s face without covering his mouth. His stretched lips full of teeth teeth teeth. 

Yoongi feels his anger quiet even before Hoseok shrugs. "i don't know if my anger would make it better. i care more about making sure we all get to wake up tomorrow without feeling like shit"

Jungkook echoes the same sentiment on his way past. “Same like- I cannot wait to nest” And Jimin nods, blonde hair fluffing. Even namjoon's subtle agreement as he does the dishes makes yoongi feel...Not better...but maybe a little less angry.

Namjoon does the dishes, but you're his close shadow. They could wait- but Namjoon needs something to do with his hands besides holding onto yours. You still haven’t talked at all, and haven't apologized verbally to him for that phone call. He wants a wide birth and you give it to him.

Survival first- and apologies and forgiveness later.  

"I think motive counts for something too," Hoseok says, looking at you across the room helping Namjoon stack dishes without being asked. "You didn't mean to hurt us when you left, but you felt like you had to." Yoongi swallows hard and feels like he's the one who's been choked in the last 48 hours.

If there’s one thing Yoongi hates, it’s how love makes you forgive. (Yoongi wouldn’t be standing in this house right now with the pack if love wasn’t this way). You could hurt me and I’d ask for it, beg for it really, as long as I’m still yours. As long as you stay. 

At the beginning, the fact that Yoongi loved you more always hurt the pack, Jin especially. But watching Yoongi’s eyes follow your movements as you're asked to do some small remedial task to appease the pack, watching you do it with so much sweet eagerness. the pack find that they're thankful for it.

You say you’re sorry to anyone who will listen. And Jungkook's endless replies of "it's okay" make Yoongi's ears itch in the interim.

The moments and minutes stretch out long.

But about an hour before Moonbyul is due to arrive, in the quiet panic of making sure things are ready and just waiting, Jin tries to convince you to go upstairs for the entirety of your meeting. But as much as the pack doesn't want to admit it you might be the best at getting what you want from Moonbyul. They're prepared for you to be a little bratty about it, to push back a little regardless of the circumstances.

What they're not prepared for is Hoseok standing up in the center of the room, setting his icepack on the couch with a small crunch, before he says “I want to see her again.” 

It's met with an immediate rejection, and a barrage of questions from the other alpha's, Jimin and Namjoon especially have their hackles raised. Yoongi actually checks his ears to see if they're bleeding. Jin quite literally grabs Hobi and shakes him a little. But he’s convinced that he needs too. He’s got questions for her that no one else can answer.

You had been the one person who had agreed with him. Some questions can only be answered by the person who hurt you. 

Moonbyul isn’t stupid- she won’t walk into your den without a few face cards in her hands. You won’t let her come here without a card up your sleeve either. But aces are aces- a royal flush will beat 4 aces every time, and it’s up to you who wears the crown. 

You watch the pack put on the air of royalty. Watch Namjoon recline at the head of the table the picture of Pack alpha ease. Scent blockers are applied to all of you liberally out of necessity. You rub it into Hobi’s scent gland yourself (You won’t let Moonbyul get a wif of him).

You watch your mate settle into his shoulders; neck held high. Putting on the same Placid but brutal he'd worn the first time you'd met him. That untouchable coldness that all members of the family wear out of necessity. 

But Yoongi had never been good enough at keeping the warmth out of his eyes. Even back then.

Moonbyul comes in a black car, non-descript. She's driving herself today. No extra ears or extra packmates attached to her hip. Even Hyejin is absent and it’s strange, strange to not see her get out of the car with her.

It sets you off kilter when you peer out the window. Lingering until Yoongi comes close. Your breath hitches as his hands touch your shoulders. Urging you upstairs without a word, an unspoken heaviness in his eyes.

Regardless of what you'd agreed, now that she's here. yoongi doesn't think he can do this if you're not upstairs safe.

“But Yoongi- Hobi-“ Hobi stands by the door. If he's going to talk to her you want to be by his side. But Yoongi's scared, you can see it in his face and feel it in the mating mark.

You think you'll have a few more moments to sort this out, but Moonbyul does not knock on your door, she just lets herself in. 

“Cousin!” she starts, splaying her hands like she’s about to go in for a hug but Yoongi does not smile, Yoongi does nothing but glare at her until her smile and her hands both drop. 

Seeing Moonbyul again after so long does not feel like just seeing her photograph. For a second Hoseok feels cold, so so cold looking at her face. Her fair skin, her silver hair. Tunnel vision and the most dizzying mix of fear and anger and alpha posturing that he’s ever felt. His instincts yell at him, screaming in his ear that he needs to run, needs to get away. 

She smells different, metallic and medicinal, different than her sweet omega peppermint smell that he remembers. It's stronger now- more musky. the scent of an alpha and not an omega. Hoseok wouldn't be able to pinpoint that it was an artificial change if he hadn't smelled the same sort of hormone shift on Tae.

He’s distantly aware that there are people in between him and her, you, Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon, and even Jungkook who fluffs up, looking determined and like he’s about to unleash all 5 years of experience he has teaching kickboxing on her. (Tae stays at the back of the room- the soft and delicate fairy star child that she is- but even she subtly stands straighter, eyeing Moonbyul’s stiff black coat with the same air that Anna Wintour might wear while viewing a subpar fashion show).

6 feet away and every bit of his instincts is yelling at him to move, to run. His heart thunders in his ears like a battalion of racehorses. How stupid of him to think he was ready- that seeing her face after all these years wouldn’t hurt- that the fear wouldn’t be there- his breath hitches and-

She grins at him and Hoseok flinches. 

In his peripheries, he sees Namjoon and Jimin start to say or do something. Hoseok had put himself- almost perfunctorily in front of you. But after a second with your hand on his wrist tightening, you put yourself between him and her. Stepping around him and Yoongi in one clean movement and blocking his face from view. Moonbyul just raises her eyebrows at you.    Before anything more can happen- before any jabs or warnings can be exchanged, a grey mass skitters across the floor. As quick as a bullet and twice as violent. Out for blood and the bringer of death.

Puffed up and looking large and menacing. Noodle yowls loud, a war cry, before driving his needle-like teeth into Moonbyul's ankle and right through the leather of her Louis Vuitton boots, ripping them with a vicious toss of his neck.

“What the fuck-“ 

Moonbyul startles, knocking into the wall in her surprise at your cat's viciousness. She hardly wastes a breath before she kicks Noodle clear across the floor. 

You gasp and Tae makes a noise. But Noodle is totally fine, He goes hissing and spluttering, and claws his way right back for more not deterred in the slightest. He leaves gash marks on the shiny floor as he aims himself, back to bite her again. 

You have no doubt that he’d be headed for bloodshed and her other ankle if Yoongi didn’t scoop him up from the floor and hold him to his chest. Honestly- Noodle looks more surprised at Yoongi holding him than he does about getting kicked. 

“If you touch my fucking cat again, I’ll fucking kill you." Yoongi's deadly serious. No part of him joking as he says it.

It's barely 60 seconds in and this meeting is already going to shit. 

Namjoon steps up and steps around Yoongi’s shoulder shoving the beta behind him as Noodle starts to squirm in Yoongi's hold.  “Please, lets just get this over with.” He tips his head and gestures to the dining room table for her to sit. 

Tae takes Noodle from Yoongi’s arms. Checking his stomach. Glaring at Moonbyul who does not grin, does not smile, only tucks an errant hair behind her ear.

The sound of chair legs scraping the floor is the only sound as the 9 of you sit in silence. Noodle stays in Tae’s lap, big tail swishing as his beady yellow eyes track Moonbyul across the room. Everyone’s silent, settling. Yoongi and Jimin are the ones seated closest to Moonbyul. You and Hobi are the farthest by Namjoon on the other side. 

“Well- you’re the one who wanted to talk.” But Moonbyul is not looking at Jin and Namjoon and Yoongi- she’s looking at Hoseok- who can do little but look at her through his bangs. Skin burning when she looks at it. A feeling like Hoseok wants to hide and maybe shower until his skin falls off almost overcoming him and making him run. 

“I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to get you fucking flayed out on this kitchen table and-”

“Jimin.” Tae cuts him off with a snap of her teeth around his name. Her hand is on Hobi’s thigh, holding him still keeping his thigh from jumping up and down under the table.

“The time for violence is over,” Jin says sternly. 

Moonbyul grins, “is it?” she drags a sharp nail over a groove in the table. A spot where a bullet or maybe a knife grazed it, probably from the last few days. You wouldn’t know where it came from even if you thought hard about it.

“Some would consider the very act of possessing something that’s mine violence and you have two things that belong to me.” 

Hoseok shivers, and you narrowly avoid snapping a smart retort at her. Jimin’s fingers hover around the knife under the table. Ready to wip it out and drive it clean through her hand splayed on the table. Ready to kill her in the next second if the pack wish it. He’s half convinced he should do it before she opens her mouth because Hoseok looks like he’s going to be sick all over the table and Tae is shaking faintly. 

But then Jimin looks up, meets your eyes, and takes his eyes off of his target for a second. You shake your head a little imperceptibly. 

“Some would also consider lying violence as well- how well do you think that the rest of your family and organization would handle the fact that they’ve been lied too?”

Yoongi settles, tilting his head. Jin and Yoongi are a dangerous pair when they talk through things like this. “We both know that all I’d have to do is pick up a phone and you’d be dead. You and your pack. If you kill me- someone will tell and you'll die. If you touch my pack again- I'll tell and you'll die. And if even think about taking my mate from me again- if i start to sense that you've tried to manipulate her away from me in the slightest- I'll kill you my fucking self."

She turns to you, mirth toying at her lips, "I got away with killing the beta once, what makes you think I can't do it again?" 

Jin smiles at her, it's an honest and genuine smile. "The truth is- you gave us too much time to think. Too much time to figure it out and plan. There's a trigger clause out there. On a computer you couldn't possibly find. If I don't log in every 36 hours, an email will be sent with pictures of her recipe book to the director of the FBI, and you'll go down for it."   Moonbyul turns to you, narrowing her eyes, "You'd risk going to prison or being killed? Rather than be with me?" 

You shrug. "You- prison- tomato tamato. And besides- I know enough- you made sure I knew enough to be useful to them. I'd probably land a sweet gig in witness protection."

Tae pets over noodles head, smiling at you, "We could call Noodle meatball."

Yoongi straightens, getting you back on track. "We'd also send pictures and evidence to the heads of house too; you'd have to take your pick who you'd want to deal with- them or the Feds."    Moonbyul goes quiet and for the first time but you know you have her backed into a corner with this. This secret- this secret is truly her undoing. She fidgets, settling herself firmly into the uncomfortable chair. 

And then it comes, her concession, “What do you want?”

Yoongi nearly lunges forward with how eager he is to outline your terms. “Release Jimin from his contract. Let Y/n go and relinquish the bullshit claim you have on her. Don’t punish Jin for working for the FBI and never contact me again for my responsibilities as a beta. Leave us alone- never touch us again and you can have your empire. We won’t say a word to anyone about your true sub-gender.” He lays his hands flat on the table. "But lay a finger on any one of my packmates and I'll tell everyone what you really are." 

Moonbyul is a manipulator first and foremost, and a good one at that, you don’t know if it’s honesty or a simple tactic when she turns to Tae and appeals to her.

“You’d let them do this for what? One female alpha to the other?” Moonbyul’s eyes are too empty for her to be totally honest. Jungkook can’t stop his flinch. She knows what she’s doing. How to find the weak spots in your conviction and press at them.  

“One trans person to another? You'd let them forcefully out me? don't you know how wrong that is?”

You physically can’t look at her, you have to look away- and Jimin looks like he wants to punch her, jaw rolling- preparing to spit before Tae splays her hands on the table, chipped nail polish catching the light. 

Tae struggles to find the right words. “I don’t know if your reasons are the same as mine.” 

Moonbyul scoffs, crossing her arms. The mask slips at the same second. “Sure they are. You chose to become a woman rather than stay a man because you liked the set of qualities your life could have as a woman better. That's no different from me choosing to be an alpha over an omega because it gave my pack and me the most security.”

You know, you know in your heart that security isn't what Moonbyul's after, it's always been power, but Tae's scent starts to leak around the scent blockers, going sour.

Tae sits back in her chair. “That’s the thing- it wasn’t a choice.”

Moonbyul’s fingernails are digging into her arms in an effort to keep her hands busy. “Was it? You were comfortable being a man once until the risks outweighed the benefits of not being honest with the people you love. That seems like a choice to me- if it wasn’t a choice- you’d never have had to tell anyone- they’d just have known.” 

Moonbyul has always had a terrible knack for finding people's soft spots, Hoseok knows this, and yet he can't say anything. Can't come to Tae's defense. Can't scream at her to shut up- to not touch Tae. To not find the weakest link or perhaps a link she can exploit.

Tae’s hands tighten into a fist and she swallows, before standing up from the table. Noodle falls to the floor with a jingle of his bell collar and an offended meow. Tae leaves the room heading up the stairs and leaves you behind. Done with Moonbyul and the conversation, A choice in itself. You follow her, heading upstairs after Tae with not even a glance in Moonbyul’s direction. 

Moonbyul laughs and laughs and laughs, it’s a little unhinged. The pack stays silent. They just watch her. Yoongi settles into his shoulders and when she leans back in the chair and tucks her hair behind her ear, she’s still smiling.

“Alright cousin, let’s draw up terms.”

The family does things in old ways, a smear of Yoongi’s blood and Moonbyul’s blood on the bottom of a slip of paper and their names ink signed. A red seal printed with both of their initials. Paper that Jin will burn up later because what’s written on it could condemn them all. She also writes up a release of Jimin’s contract too- this one does not get burned. While Jin types up his resignation too.

“I’d still laser off your fingerprints if I were you.” Jimin is already planning on it. He’s not too worried about the loss of income or the family possibly rolling on him and using his long history of murder to put him in jail. He still has his other job after all.

In the end, Moonbyul leaves not with a bang, but with the click of the closing door, soft as all can be. Violent with the gentleness of her actions when she gets up from the table and says goodbye to Yoongi and only Yoongi. But when she makes to leave, she has to pass by the stairs where you wait.

You do not speak from up on top of the stairs, where you’d gone after Tae and left after she told you she was fine, that she wanted to be alone for a moment. Now Moonbyul smiles from the bottom step. Her teeth catch the light like the pearls at the bottom of the ocean.

“I guess it was never going to be us, was it?” Her eyes flick to the mark on your neck and all at once you’re reminded of the feeling of it;

Geumjae’s teeth sink into your throat, the pulse of your veins around his teeth, the feeling of his tongue hitting your skin and the pain and shock of it. Her smiling feels like that. Her smiling up at you makes it feel like she’s taking something from you. 

“There is something in you that’s hungry pup- hungry for more than they can give you. And when they realize that- when they realize that you’re more like me than like Tae- Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for when you decide that this is not enough.” 

Your finger trails down the railing of the stairs. You don’t meet her eyes. “That’s the thing isn’t it, I do get to decide, don’t I? It's my choice.”

But Hoseok is there, between you and her, and there’s no one between the two of them. Not Noodle or the others although Yoongi gets up quick and comes over to his side. Both of you hem Hobi in. 

“Wait- I just have one question for you- before you go.”

Moonbyul hovers, hand on the door. Almost out of your lives for good. You keep a hand on Hobi’s back, holding him, letting him know you’re there. You can feel the tremble in his shoulders. 

“Why did you do it, why did you hurt me like that when you could have just left? I’ve thought through it for years but I’ve never been able to figure it out. Did you know that you were hurting me when you did it?”

“Yes,” there isn’t a bit of remorse in her face, none at all. 

Maybe Hoseok is expecting something like this- something like this: “I thought if we broke you down, we might be able to remake you into something great”

“I didn’t need to be changed I just needed you to love me.”

 But there is none of that. It’s infuriating and it will bother him for years later but what Hoseok gets is this: 

“There wasn’t a reason, we were just bored and waiting for my father to give me the chance to transition.” transition into power or transition into an alpha? She doesn't clarify. She’s remorseless, nothing in her inflection indicates that she regrets what she did. 

“You weren’t the first.” 

Hoseok feels nauseous like he's going to be sick on the entryway floor. Hobi doesn’t respond and she leaves without a second glance behind her. Out of your lives for good. Leaving Hoseok standing there in the precipice of the door, watching her pull away from the house and staring at the empty driveway after she’s gone. He'll never see her again after today.

Namjoon gets up and opens up a window, clearing the house of her smell of peppermint.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until you dab your sleeve at his cheek. Yoongi at his front and you holding him from behind, keeping him together as he cries and cries and cries. Jimin puts himself between you two and the door, a knife that he'd tapped under the table in his hands.

Jungkook huffs. "Should have stabbed her when you had the chance Minnie."

Closure escapes him, just out of his fingers. Hoseok wants to run after her and demand an apology. But he doesn’t know what’s better, an apology that’s hollow or none at all. No one talks for a moment while they watch her car pull out of the driveway and leave. No one says a word. 

And then Jin gets up from the table and walks over to the kitchen. Namjoon follows him. Tae’s at the top of the steps, she’s changed her clothes from her PJs and washed off the scent blockers. Her hair hangs shaggy and messy over her glossy face, her bangs in a curly pink roller, and her skin pearly from her skincare.

She doesn’t smell distressed or upset. She doesn’t smell like anything at all but she’s wearing her favorite pink sweater. She comes close, runs her hands through Hobi's hair.

"I'll be fine, just give me a second I just need-"

"You cry for as long as you need to ho-baby."

"Yeah- cry as much as you want, use me as a napkin for all I care." your shirt is wet at the collar where Hobi burrows in.

Jin opens up the pack's liquor cabinet. Small and just to the side of the fridge. None of them really drink- but occasionally patients give Namjoon expensive bottles of whiskey for saving their lives. Jin pours himself a full glass of the most expensive bottle of it. No ice. He pours a second glass for Yoongi without asking.    It’s barely noon, but when he asks “who wants a drink?” Seven hands shoot up.

~-~

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Notes:

the very fist part of this chapter where hoseok and her are on the train was a part that i liked until final edits and then it felt??? idk??? clunky??? maybe a bit repetitive???? idk what it is and it's way too late to fix it T-T

this chapter is really an ode to what i originally thought of for bily, in the og version of this story yoongi was supposed to hate the m/c at the beginning for taking him away from the pack. i think his anger at the end is entirely justified- it's also like- his karma for leaving at the beginning you know? he might take it a bit too far in his reaction but tbh- i think we can cut him some slack for everything he's ever given to the m/c- all of the unconditional love.

i think that the train is like- a metaphor for getting better, or not getting better and keeping going on the reductive patterns that make you sick, because the things that make you feel better- like picking at a sticky scab- will only make you scar deeper. this is the last moment for the m/c, the moment she starts to heal for good.

the moment where hobi and the m/c are walking up to the car and yoongi is there i litterally see him puffing up like a studio ghibli charecter you know? or maybe like noodle whenever yoongi comes close.

honestly- the line where yoongi says that she doesn't love him like he loves her made me fucking sick when i wrote it like???? not me lowkey not giving them a happy ending. but i think that the part of bily thats always been fun to experiment with is how people sometimes people hurting you doesn't change how you feel about them.

did you catch the reasons wreched and divine refrence????

the line that yoongi says “Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last ////5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough too apologize and-" is very much a refrence to what hoseok says to yoongi at the begining of the series "You won’t even tell me now when I'm fucking dying over you, suffocating under the weight of things you just won’t say- and you don’t even care!” and i think thats pretty.

i think the yoongi parts will either make you guys feel vindicated or upset. i think it's up to you if he goes too far when he's angry- but i do think it's very human of him to get so angry like...the m/c is his whole fucking world...he will get over it! don't worry! he's just momentarily angry!

the part between when the pack call her and she arrifes felt really clunky while i was editing it, i decided not to take it down too much because i wanted you guys to feel some of their anticipation- but maybe it's too much. it's this kind of part that might get seriously paired down once i go back through bily and clean it up

"fuck this bitch"- noodle probably

noodle is like my favorite charecter i swear to god i love him so so much. i had the idea that he would be the only one to get some bloodletting in since the very begining of the series before he was ever written into the story. this is also the begining of them sorta being friends like- after this noodle is alot more tolerant of yoongi.

Moonbyul discloses that she has some pretty uncomfy views of being trans in this! i think it's pretty obvious that it's not meant to be like 'this is how all trans people are' and more of an effort to contrast tae- we are also talking like fake secondary genders here as well so- do with that what you will!

i also wanted to make the point with hobi and moonbyul's part at the end that sometimes the people who hurt you have no remorse, you don't get clousrure from them because they'll never admit that they shouldn't have done something. and the biggest closure that you can get is from giving yourself the strenght to let go. in a way- this directly contrasts the parts on the train in the begining. in order to heal a wound you have to stop touching it.

this chapter may feel like an ending in a sense because it is an end of all the mafia parts. truly- after this chapter we won't see any more violence or blood or anything close to the last 6. it's all happy endings from here <3 Thank you for sticking with it!

<3

Wow this feels very Jungkook! Crazy but fun. So interesting to read his pov. I could kinda imagine his pov while he was fighting. I can't wait to see the rest of the povs ahh!

Collateral 🗡️ POV: Jungkook

Jungkook has to take care of a few things, and he makes a mess.

Or, the one with Jungkook, a cocktail of drugs, a bandolier of kunai knives, and 15 dead men.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!

if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!

🗡️Jungkook x a male stranger, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 8.5k

🗡️ mafia au, complicated relationships, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+

🗡️ warnings: discussion of drug use and manufacturing (mdma/ecstasy, methamphetamines, amphetamines); mention of homeless people being thought of as disposable; actual drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy laced with meth, all while drinking whiskey); use of molotov cocktail as a weapon; hand-to-hand combat; graphic knife violence & broken glass used as a weapon; killing 15 men; getting stabbed but not too badly; plenty of my annoying sense of humor.

🗡️ note: hello! welcome to the character pov chapters! these used to be locked behind a paywall but tbh i don't feel good asking people for money, so i am setting them free (cue Jimin.) this chapter is possibly my favorite written chapter for all of Collateral, and it is gory as all hell. i hope you love it!!!

🗡️ early draft beta read by @blog-name-idk - but it has undergone some pretty big non-beta'd edits

🗡️ posted feb. 2024 - originally sept. 2022 | read on ao3

The sounds of Jeongguk grunting while his fists repeatedly hit his punching bag are all that can be heard in his spacious home. So when Jeongguk glances up to find this morning's hookup standing against the frame of the hallway entrance in light blue boxer shorts, he startles, and, in a flash, pulls his gun from the holster around his hips. 

The man jumps and throws his hands in the air while Jeongguk sighs and shakes his head, recalling who he is. He reaches back and slides the barrel of his weapon into place at the small of his back.

"Why are you still here?" Jeongguk asks, returning to punching the red sand-filled bag that hangs from the ceiling of his mostly empty living room.

Sweat runs down Jeongguk's face and neck, sticking his hair to his forehead. He wears his hip holster, a pair of black basketball shorts, and nothing else. With each strike of his bare skin against the bag, his knuckles sting.

"That's no way to speak to the guy who sucked your soul through your dick this morning," the man teases, and Jeongguk grimaces as he looks at the man, who grins.

With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk says, "I never even learned your name. It's not that serious."

The man opens his mouth as if to respond, but Jeongguk raises his hand and says, "I don't want to fucking know. Be on your way."

For a brief moment, the man just stands and stares owlishly with his mouth gaping open, and Jeongguk resists the urge to pull his gun on him once more. Then the man shifts around on his feet and mutters, "You drove us here," with a dejected frown.

Jeongguk sighs with vexation. He pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs around through his contacts, and calls Hoseok, who answers after the second ring.

"Ggukie bun, to what do I owe the pleasure?" It sounds like Hoseok has his phone on speaker, which means he is most likely driving.

"Hyung, are you busy? I need someone driven home."

"I happen to be on my way back to the property now. Gimme ten? Gonna pick up Seokjin and then I'll swing by."

"Sounds good. Thank you, hyung."

Hoseok chuckles, says, "My pleasure, little bro," and hangs up.

Jeongguk shoves his phone back into his pocket and nods toward the front door, saying, "Your ride will be here in ten. You can wait outside."

With a huff, the man turns on his heels and walks back down the hallway to the guest room from which he came. Irritated, Jeongguk abandons his workout and walks to the kitchen for a glass of water. His house is a spacious and open concept with black countertops and silver appliances, all of which are pristine and practically empty.

Jeongguk pulls a tall, thin glass from the rack beside the sink, fills it halfway with water from the tap, and drinks most of it, only to dump out the rest. Then he rinses the glass off, sets it in the same spot it was before, and he returns to his punching bag, waiting for his guest to leave.

It only takes another moment for the man to appear in a black tee untucked over tight blue jeans. His hair is short, dark brown, and disheveled, and Jeongguk spares him a final passing glance before looking away. Some shuffling around is heard as the man puts on his shoes before the front door opens and closes.

Jeongguk grabs his gun from its holster and twirls it around his finger as he makes his way through the space and locks both deadbolts on the front door—not that the man would be able to bypass a retina scan and passcode to return inside. He heads up a flight of stairs beside the entrance toward his master bedroom and en suite to get ready to meet with Yoongi and Namjoon in thirty minutes, whistling some tune that is stuck in his head while the heavy, familiar weight of his glock grounds him.

Meetings make Jeongguk anxious. For as long as he has been part of Yoongi's family, nobody has given Jeongguk a reason for his anxiety; it is simply his natural state of being. He hates sitting and brainstorming, always finding himself spacing out and needing whoever was speaking to repeat themselves. He would rather be given an order and sent on his way. 

And with the new girl in the house, everyone has the habit of getting sidetracked and steering the conversation to her. Especially Namjoon and Hoseok.

It is not as if Jeongguk doesn't like having her in the house, but he is tired of having to pretend to give a shit about new people. And, after the debacle with Ryujin, he is not eager to watch his boss fall in love with an outsider.

If there is one thing this world has taught Jeongguk, it is that to love is to die.

In his standard-issued black button-up tucked into black slacks, Jeongguk checks his appearance, running a hand through his unstyled hair. The front is growing out, falling just below his eyebrows, and it is another thing on the long list of shit he does not want to deal with.

Jeongguk straightens out his rolex and heads out through his dimly lit bedroom, down the short hallway to the flight of stairs that leads right to his front entrance. He sits on the second to last step and puts on worn-out doc marten boots, taking care to double tie the laces, and he adjusts the gun holster on his ankle so that it sits comfortably above his right boot.

Not that he will need a gun to go to Yoongi's place, but he may need one for where he plans on going after.

Jeongguk's home is the second closest to Yoongi's mansion, so rather than drive, he gets on his trusty 7-speed mint green bicycle. Strapped to the handlebars is a light brown handwoven basket in which he tosses a small black duffle bag. Jeongguk straddles the bike, gripping onto the soft brown handlebars, and sets off down his driveway, waiting as his weight triggers the security gate to open and let him be on his way.

It only takes three or so minutes for him to pull up to Yoongi's front gate. There is a path that connects all of their homes and allows them access without leaving any security gates, but the road has a nice steep hill that Jeongguk can get some real speed on, and he prefers that to the private path that is much more level.

As the gate opens granting Jeongguk access, he spots Hoseok and Seokjin standing hand in hand on Yoongi's stoop. From the smell of it, they are smoking a joint, and as Jeongguk gets closer, the sound of his tires on the cement driveway calls their attention.

Jeongguk grins and flicks the small aluminum bell on the handlebars twice, ringing it playfully. Yoongi's head appears from behind Seokjin's broad shoulders, and he smiles his wide, gummy grin that always sets Jeongguk at ease. Hoseok lets go of Seokjin's hand, and he turns to greet him.

"Who was the boy?" Hoseok teases.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and shrugs. "How did you get back here so fast?"

"He didn't live too far," Hoseok responds with his hands on his hips. 

Jeongguk knows the look in his eye—the squinted glare that suggests he isn't getting the information he desires and that he plans to pry more. 

Hoseok continues, "I'm impressed you let him stay the night."

With a sigh, Jeongguk says, "I didn't. Picked him up this morning."

"This morning?" Seokjin asks as he turns and mimics Hoseok's stance—whether intentionally or simply because they spend too much time together, it is hard to say.

This is the facet of being the youngest that Jeongguk hates; he is always subject to twenty questions about what and who he does despite him almost never sticking his nose into their business. They love to pick on him, and it drives him crazy.

"Yeah, this morning," Jeongguk grumbles as he gets off his bike, walks it to the garage, and leans it against the painted steel panel door. "I had pent-up energy and couldn't sleep, so I went to Paradise and found someone to fuck."

Yoongi scoffs. A crooked smirk tugs on his lips—nothing but trouble—and Jeongguk braces himself for what he is about to say.

"Pent-up energy from bashing a man's brains in?"

Jeongguk hums in agreement and pushes his hand through his hair. "As if I'm the only one," he grumbles, making his way to the stoop. Seokjin holds a joint up to his lips, and Jeongguk reaches out and snatches it, sticking his tongue out as his elder, who squawks in dissent.

"You're certainly not the only one," Hoseok responds with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Yoongi shakes his head as he chuckles.

Jeongguk takes a deep inhale of the joint, enjoying the faint crackle of tobacco that has been mixed in. Smoke fills his lungs, and he holds it in, then tilts his head upward and blows the small plume out.

"Shall we?" Seokjin asks as he wraps his arm around Hoseok's waist. They are both dressed in black suits with white undershirts, with their hair styled a little nicer than usual, and Jeongguk wonders what they may be up to, but he doesn't want to ask. Unlike them, he hates to pry.

Yoongi, however, can always be trusted to unveil people's plans. "You'll be back in an hour or so?" he asks, reaching to smooth the lapels on Seokjin's dress shirt.

Hoseok nods and gives Yoongi a soft smile. "Seokjin is meeting with a few brokers at House of Cards, so while he's busy wooing them, I'll return in time to meet with you and Taehyung."

"Perfect," Yoongi responds with a satisfied smile. He turns to Jeongguk and says, "Namjoon's inside. Shall we?"

Jeongguk hums and holds the joint out toward Seokjin, who holds up his hand and shakes his head. Seokjin and Hoseok wave their goodbyes and walk toward the black sedan parked a few feet away, and Jeongguk waves the two fingers that cradle the slowly diminishing joint and follows Yoongi through the front door.

As he kicks out of his shoes, Namjoon comes down the stairs wearing a stupid smile that makes Jeongguk's stomach turn. What he and Yoongi get up to is their own business, but after what happened in the past, he hates the thought that the cycle is repeating itself. He has always wondered why the two of them can't just be happy together without having to play house with a third. But it is none of his business.

Smoking weed is probably a mistake. As Jeongguk lifts his hand to pass the joint to Namjoon, he already feels a little spaced out and way too relaxed. He approaches the blue velvet couch, sits on the end furthest from Yoongi's chair, and leans into the corner of it with one arm up on the armrest and the other slung around the back. Namjoon sits in the other corner, as close to Yoongi as possible, and angles his body toward Yoongi like the obedient little puppy he is.

As expected, the meeting loses Jeongguk's attention almost immediately, and he spaces out, rubbing his fingertips along the velvet fabric of the couch to make it dark and rough, only to smooth it out again. 

Occasionally, Yoongi asks Jeongguk's opinion, catching his attention and reiterating whatever point it is he wants Jeongguk to weigh in on, and Jeongguk looks up, nods, and grunts.

The meetings always go this way. Everyone has a conversation around Jeongguk, and then they cater to Jeongguk's lack of attention in order to ask his opinion on trivial matters. He doesn't understand why this can't be done over text.

When they conclude the boring chunk of the meeting, and Jeongguk has grunted and nodded somewhere around eight to ten times, Yoongi sits forward in his chair—a movement that always catches Jeongguk's attention—then he angles his hips to reach into the pocket of his slacks and pulls out a small baggie full of pills.

There are about eight pills in the bag, and they are little pink semi-squares. Without having a closer look, Jeongguk knows that they are ecstasy pills pressed with methamphetamines that were shipped from California, but he picks up the baggie anyway, inspecting them for the Iron Man logo imprinted on the back.

"These are trash," Jeongguk says, tossing them back onto the table.

One of these pills will have the user grinding their teeth so hard they are likely to chip one. Jeongguk once woke up from a bender that included these and other substances, and the sides of his mouth were so chewed up and swollen, he could barely eat soup.

Since then, he keeps a mouthguard in his duffle bag along with his weapons. He will never understand why Americans so willingly settle for garbage drugs.

"That they are," Yoongi responds with a smirk. "But we have already begun to manufacture smoother MDMA that gives you the high minus the mouth grinding, and I would like your guys to try to emulate a pill that has those qualities, plus the amount of methamphetamines found in these."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "If you want an upper that doesn't have a negative effect on the user's mouth, meth isn't the way to go."

"What about drugs that are meant to treat attention deficit?" Namjoon butts in. 

Jeongguk tilts his head to show Namjoon he is listening and tenses his jaw to let him know that whatever it is, he better get to the point. Namjoon has a tendency to get long-winded, and Jeongguk finds it annoying. Namjoon seems unaffected and continues with a soft smile.

"Those pharmaceuticals don't often cause users to grind their teeth or get the other 'meth mouth' side effects. Perhaps we can find out how much meth is used in these pressed pills and test whether that same amount of Adderall or something similar would have a more pleasant effect. If your team doesn't still have Adderall or anything similar on hand, I'm sure we could get some smuggled in by the end of the week."

"Adderall isn't meth," Jeongguk mutters. "Amphetamines are a different class of stimulant, but...it might work. And I'm almost certain we have some on hand."

Jeongguk does not hate the idea. But he is not a scientist—none of them are. He has no clue if this idea will actually pan out. He does, however, have scientists under his employ, so he takes the baggie and shoves it into his pocket.

"Fine," Jeongguk says. "I'll talk to the team about it. Anything else?"

Namjoon shakes his head as if Jeongguk was directing the question to him, and Jeongguk ignores him to glance at Yoongi.

With a soft smile, Yoongi says, "Of course, we need to figure out who that Jae fellow is, who—"

"Already on it," Jeongguk interrupts, to which Yoongi sits up with a smile. "After some digging I found Jae and fourteen men who either knew about his plan or were helping him carry it out. I invited them all to a party at the private club. I'll pop by the warehouse on my way—kill two birds with one stone."

"Kill as many birds as needed," Yoongi responds with a dark, knowing gaze that sends an excited shiver through Jeongguk.

"You got it, boss."

* * * 

Jeongguk stops at a red light just outside the city, gathers saliva under his tongue as he takes the baggie of shitty pink pills out of his front pocket, and pops one into his mouth. He makes a mental note of where everyone will be in an hour or two, banking on Seokjin still being in town, knowing he will be in absolutely no shape to bike home. Then he runs a hand through his hair, gives the bell on his bicycle a celebratory ding as the light turns green, and takes off.

The air is warm, but the breeze that hits him as he rides at a slight incline feels nice and cool. It centers him—a calm before he kicks up a storm. 

So little of Jeongguk's life has ever been calm, and so he takes these moments whenever he can and holds them close to his heart. Driving would make everything go faster, and it would be much more convenient, and that is precisely why Jeongguk rides his bike instead.

Jeongguk's drug operations primarily take place in a warehouse district on the outskirts of the city in an abandoned area that has been left impoverished and ignored with intention. The syndicates like having dumping grounds—a place to make people disappear—and when Yoongi took over and extended his reign to this area, there were talks of cleaning it up to improve the quality of life, which he staunchly declined. 

In fact, the area seems to only have gotten worse. Ironic, perhaps, that some of Yoongi's most state-of-the-art equipment is housed in this very district.

There were homeless populations, but once the warehouses became more useful and Jeongguk employed a team of scientists to begin manufacturing some of their heavy-hitter drugs, everyone was pushed out or eradicated. Or, if they had their wits about them, they were brought onto some of the more disposable teams.

Jeongguk veers from the busy streets and begins an uphill journey that quickly turns to dirt and gravel terrain. The bike bounces as Jeongguk leans into each stride, and then he pulls up to a small concrete compound of four identical grey rectangles with steel panel doors and a few run-down cars outside. He thumbs over a key fob in his pocket to cause the steel door on the second building from the left to lift open, and skids to a halt in front of it.

Whether the drugs are slowly starting to take effect or Jeongguk is anxious about meeting with his team, he is unsure, but there is a tremor in his hands as he rides into the dark cement enclosure and taps the button over the fabric of his slacks once more to close the door behind him. 

Jeongguk parks his bike off to the side of the entrance, closes his eyes to take a deep exhale and shake out his limbs, then makes his way through the empty building to a set of steps in a far corner.

Two stories below is where the science team works, and Jeongguk takes the baggie of pink pills from his pocket, pulls one more pill out, seals the baggie shut, and rubs his thumb and finger over the plastic-covered pills as he makes his way downstairs.

* * * 

The phone rings thrice before Seokjin picks up, and Jeongguk rubs his hand over his nose, stifling a sniffle as cocaine drips down the back of his throat.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Jin-hyung," Jeongguk says in a tone that lilts on being ragged and unsure. "A-are you still in Seoul?"

Jeongguk hears Seokjin sigh. "Are you high?"

"Hmm...not yet. But I will be."

Jeongguk absolutely is high. It crept up as he was discussing Yoongi's idea with the science team, and he got so antsy that he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

Luckily, there wasn't much to say to the team in the first place; they are used to these kinds of requests and know more about the processes than anyone else, so Jeongguk had nothing to explain—he simply plopped the baggie onto a metal table, muttered their idea, and was out rather fast.

"Do you need a ride?" Seokjin asks, voice stern in a way that always makes Jeongguk anxious—like he is being spoken to like a child.

"Yeah," Jeongguk mutters. His mouth shivers and moves a little too slowly. "Yoongi encouraged me to go b-bird watching, and I'll probably overdo it."

"Bird wat—what did he tell you, exactly?"

Jeongguk giggles, realizing his mistake. Bird watching—how silly. "I'll be in your district. Gotta knock skulls together and find out who lost my pills. Might get messy."

"And you need a ride?"

"Yes, hyung."

"Did you drive?"

"Yes, hyung."

Another sigh. "Send me the coordinates. I can be there in about an hour."

"Thanks, hyung," Jeongguk sing-songs in a dazed voice as he pulls the phone from his ear and hangs up.

His bike tires crunch on gravel as he sits back on the seat, grips his handlebars, and begins to ride. Inside the wicker basket sits an empty duffle bag, the contents of which have been strapped to Jeongguk's chest, scratching his skin ever so slightly beneath his shirt.

The ride from the warehouses to the river feels simultaneously too fast and incredibly slow. Jeongguk's heart pounds as he continues to come up on the pill and ease into two too many tiny spoonfuls of cocaine. He wants a drink—something stiff as hell to take the edge off.

Tonight, in a private club near House of Cards, fifteen of Jeongguk's men are enjoying an evening of drinking and taking it easy in celebration of a great month of getting product onto the streets and sold. This, of course, is a lie; their month tanked once one of them pulled a significant amount of pharmaceuticals and ecstasy, and Jeongguk has gathered them all for easy disposal.

Namjoon and the lamb met with Changkyun to rough up a couple of men who spilled the beans about someone named Jae fucking with their supply. Afterward, Jeongguk put his ear to the ground and immediately started to hear whispers of other men who may have been working to help him. He found out who had been working close to Jae and who had been hanging out with him while off duty, and he made sure to extend invitations to all fifteen of them for a party at the club tonight.

Everyone who is actually worth a damn is currently in one of the warehouses having a lowkey shindig of their own, far away from the others, and none the wiser. They will all find out eventually, and Jeongguk looks forward to their loyalty being tested when they do.

The sun has begun to set, and a pinkish-orange glow colors the sky. Jeongguk likes to imagine the pink as a runoff of blood, picturing the stars above spilling the crimson liquid onto the earth, getting soaked up by the clouds.

He stands, straddling his bike, and stumbles it into a rack, feeling the dizzying tendrils of his high begin to wrap him in a tight hug. A valet worker walks over with a bike lock and begins to anchor the vehicle into place, then sends Jeongguk off with a deep bow.

"Mister Jeon," the buff security officer working the front door mutters with a bow of his head. He pats Jeongguk down as he asks, "What's on the menu tonight?" fingers tracing over pointed steel between his pecs.

"Teaching a lesson in loyalty," Jeongguk responds with a wide, sadistic smile. "Boss will send a cleanup crew; you just need to worry about keeping the men inside once the bartender leaves through the back."

The guard rubs his palm over the gun on Jeongguk's ankle, then stands and says, "Understood."

When Jeongguk walks into the small club, the men are all crowded in a circle, shouting over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Whenever these low-lives get thrown into a room together, all they want to do is fight. Jeongguk can barely see a tousle of bodies in the center of the group, but the sounds of grunting as hands and feet make contact with limbs and cheeks has adrenaline coursing through him.

The space is cast in a drug-induced fog, and Jeongguk's eyes slowly scan around and attempt to make sense of everything. There are no windows and only one exit, save for a secret door only staff have access to behind the bar. The building itself is solid brick with mahogany floors and deep red wallpaper. Lighting in the space is dim, appearing darker still since the scarce furnishings are rust red.

Jeongguk makes his way to the bar and orders a double whiskey neat—the shittiest they have on the rail. He likes to feel the burn as it travels from his lips to his chest—likes how every inch of his body responds in protest against something so wretched.

"You're off for the night," Jeongguk mutters, and the bartender nods, grabs a towel to wipe a wet spot from the bar top, and then walks into the back, abandoning his post.

Jeongguk pulls a vial of cocaine from around his neck, unscrews it, and begins to tap a small pile onto the sticky counter. He leans and sniffs as much as he can, first through one nostril and then the other, leaving the rest behind. 

Then, he pulls the second little pink pill from his pocket, takes a dizzy step back, and pops it into his mouth. He reasons that the only way to come out of the other end of a bloodbath without ruining his ability to sleep at night is to become relentlessly high.

With the remainder of his whiskey, Jeongguk washes back the pill and attempts to formulate a plan. One of the men approaches the bar, and Jeongguk turns to find him leaning against the edge and looking around.

"Where the fuck is the bartender?" the guy asks, glancing at Jeongguk.

Recognition hits the man, and his eyes widen, then he stands up straight, turning to Jeongguk with his head bowed forward. "S-sir," he mutters, "I didn't see you there."

Jeongguk's heart pounds as he undoes the top three buttons of his shirt, reaches past the fabric, and pulls out a sharp steel kunai knife with a hole on the end of the handle through which Jeongguk sticks his index finger. He twirls the small, heavy knife and takes a step toward the man.

"Are you having fun tonight?" Jeongguk asks with a voice that is far too steady for how he feels.

The man eyes Jeongguk's knife and gives him an ugly, toothy smile. His hair is greasy, his brown shirt is stained on the front, and he smells like piss. "So much fun, boss! Thank you for giving us the night off."

Jeongguk nods. "I wanted to give a special congratulations to Jae. Have you seen him?"

At the mention of Jae, the man's eyes open widely, and he nervously looks around the bar. Then he nods with his chin and says, "Red shirt. W-want me to get him for you, boss?"

Every inch of Jeongguk tingles. A hazy, thick euphoria embraces him tightly and makes him want to dance—dance and sing and slit all of these men's throats until the floor is sticky with blood.

Jeongguk opens his mouth, aware of how tense his jaw is becoming, and moves it around as if stretching it out. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rounded plastic container in which he stores his mouthguard, and he shakes his head at the man before him.

"I'll take care of it," Jeongguk says as he pops the container open, pulls out the clear guard, and shoves it snugly into his mouth.

"Oh—okay," the man says, taking a step away from Jeongguk, who continues to stare him down with his lips spread over the clear plastic covering his teeth.

Jeongguk twirls the kunai on his finger and takes a step toward the man. The man jolts as if startled by a jump scare, and he takes a clumsy step back, tripping into a barstool and reaching back with his hand to steady it. Everything seems to move too fast and too slow, and Jeongguk finds he can only process that which is immediately in his line of sight—everything else is a hazy wash of light and color.

This is the sweet spot. Any higher, and Jeongguk might not be able to perform.

Jeongguk spins on the balls of his boots, places his palms onto the sticky bar, and hoists himself up, landing surprisingly steadily on the bar top. Then he hops down onto the other side and straightens himself as he allows his eyes and brain to catch up to one another, scanning the bottles on the shelves. There are a lot of clear bottles, but only one of them is the vodka he desires.

"W-what are you doing, boss?" the man asks.

"Making a cocktail," Jeongguk shouts over his shoulder.

"Gin...close..." Jeongguk mutters to himself, mouth full of plastic and twirling his kunai. Fidgeting helps him focus, especially with methamphetamines coursing through his blood.

"W-what kind of cocktail, boss?" the man asks, and Jeongguk huffs an impatient sigh. He hates being bothered; why is this man bothering him?

"Ah, here you are," Jeongguk mumbles as he finds a nearly full bottle of Smirnoff 100-proof vodka. He pulls the bottle spout out and drops it to the floor—metal clattering on brick—then turns and searches the rail for a rag.

"Molotov," Jeongguk shouts as he takes the corner of the stained rag and begins twisting it into a small enough tip to shove into the bottle.

"What?"

Jeongguk has to use the kunai to slice part of the rag away, and he tosses the useless strip over his shoulder, then continues to shove the rag into the neck of the bottle, leaving a couple inches sticking out from the top. 

Satisfied with his work, he pulls a gold-plated zippo lighter from his pocket and flicks it open against his thigh in one swift motion, igniting the flame in the process. Then he holds the flame up to the rag and watches with delight as the end of the dirty fabric catches. He pops the lighter closed and drops it back into his pocket, then he sets the flaming cocktail aside.

With the kunai dangling from around his finger, Jeongguk pulls out his mouthguard, dribbling spit that has gathered around it down his chin as he says, "Molotov," more clearly with a grin.

The man looks on in horror, frozen in place, and Jeongguk shoves the guard back into his mouth, places his palms onto the sticky bar, and hops back up, onto his feet in a squatting position. Without warning, Jeongguk picks up the bottle, chucks it overhand toward the crowd, sending it high enough to hit the ceiling, and he smiles widely as the bottle explodes and rains liquid fire down onto the men.

Laughter rocks through Jeongguk, and he loses his balance, falling backward onto his palms against the bar. He sits flat on his butt and swings his legs over the edge of the counter, watching as men panic and scream.

Most of them will have minor burns. Several men run around flailing while their shirts and hair singe, and one man rolls on the floor, desperate to put out the flames. In the chaos, Jeongguk spots Jae off to the right, away from the fire, and he hops down from the bar to make his way over to him, pulling his mouthguard out.

"Yo, Jae!" Jeongguk shouts, and the man in red turns quickly and begins to run toward Jeongguk.

"Boss, you have to help us!" Jae shouts frantically, clearly drunk. "Someone threw fire at us!"

Jeongguk giggles and takes Jae roughly by the bicep as he mutters, "You, come with me."

Jae stumbles but compiles, and Jeongguk drags him several more feet away. Beside the bathrooms of this old building are thick pipes that stick out from the brick, and Jeongguk yanks the man close to one as he reaches into his pocket for some metal handcuffs, fumbles with opening one end of the cuffs, then locks it around Jae's wrist in a tight squeeze.

A shout rips through Jae's chest, and he attempts to get away but then throws a punch. Jeongguk takes the impact of his fist to the jaw and then slams his forehead into Jae’s face, knocking him backward into the wall. 

Jae's head hits brick, making him grunt, and Jeongguk manages to reach the man’s hand over his head and secure the open cuff to one of the pipes.

Adrenaline from absorbing the punch has Jeongguk's nerves singing to life, and he punches Jae in the stomach for good measure, then turns to find the man at the bar shaking while leaning against it with a look of horror on his face.

"Why so scared?" Jeongguk mock pouts.

The man shakes his head and whimpers, "Wh-what's going on, boss?"

"You know what's going on," Jeongguk mutters with a grin.

The man shakes his head again, this time more frantically.

Jeongguk cocks his head to the side, sending a dizzying wave through his body. "No? Because if you told me what happened, I would consider letting you live."

The flash of hope that widens the man's eyes tells Jeongguk everything he needs to know, and he advances quickly—crowds the man's space. A quick glance over his shoulder shows the rest of the group is still broken out into chaos with men attempting to help others put out the remaining fire and get to their feet. A few blurry bodies are on the outskirts of the crowd, but nobody appears to be approaching him.

"Tell me what happened," Jeongguk growls as he turns back to the man at the bar.

"J-J-Jae s-said if w-we cover for him, we'd get a cut."

"A cut of what?" Jeongguk asks.

The man screws up his face as if Jeongguk's question is ridiculous. "Money, s-sir."

"Money for what?"

The man shakes his head. He knows he is fucked—that he has already said too much—and he nibbles on his lip, which trembles. Jeongguk brings the kunai up to the man's throat and presses the tip against his jugular notch.

"Answer me."

"P-pills!" the man shouts. "Narcotics and party drugs. He t-took them off the last shipment while you were distracted."

"Distracted, hmm? Tell me, what was I distracted by?"

At this, the man begins to panic and twist as if hoping that he can get away somehow. So there is more to this story than them simply stealing from him to turn a profit. Interesting.

"Boss?" a voice comes from behind Jeongguk, and he grits his teeth hard and pushes the kunai into the man's jugular, turning his face away from the spray of blood. The man gargles and thrashes, and Jeongguk takes a step back and allows him to fall to the floor and bleed out.

One down, fourteen to go.

Jeongguk pops his guard back into his mouth, spins on the balls of his feet with a wide plastic smile, and finds two worried-looking men standing before him. He reaches into his shirt, pulls another kunai off the bandolier of blades strapped to his chest, and begins to twirl them both—one on each index finger.

The major downside of having to be this high to commit mass murder is that his aim is shit. The entire point of having so many knives strapped to him is to throw them at his targets without needing to immediately retrieve them. Instead, Jeongguk straps the belt around his chest as a means to ground himself—a tight, scratchy hug.

Jeongguk advances on the two men. One stumbles backward and begins to run back to the group while the other gets an angry glint in his eye and comes in swinging. Jeongguk guards his punch by driving the tip of a knife through the man's forearm, then punches his other knife into the man's neck. For good measure, Jeongguk kneels as the man falls and slices his throat open to quicken his bleeding.

Two down, thirteen to go.

When Jeongguk stands, stumbling as he finds his balance, he notices some men crowding around him while others attempt to escape. Jeongguk feels himself fly into a blind rage as he approaches the small group and begins punching and stabbing, absorbing hits that are nowhere near as damaging or lethal as the ones he doles out. He barely feels it when fists make impact with him, and he giggles wildly when one punch lands on the kunai under his shirt and slices the man's knuckles.

"You ruined my shirt, you fuck," he complains through his mouthguard as he punches a knife into the soft tissue and cartilage the man's face, still giggling like a madman.

A glance around the space shows Jae in his corner, three men at the door attempting to beat it down, and two men on the far-end wall huddled up. A couple men groan and crawl against the floor, and Jeongguk has no idea how many of them are dead or dying, so he advances on the three by the door.

Jeongguk takes a chance and flings one of the knives, and it whirs satisfactorily and hits one of the men in the shoulder. The man yelps and falls to his knees, clearly assuming something far worse has happened to him, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to advance and take the other two out while he is down.

A knife to the throat here, a headbutt followed by a knife to the throat there, and Jeongguk is bending behind the last man, pulling the knife from his back and reaching around to the front of his neck to slice it open. Jeongguk gets to his feet, stretches his neck from side to side, and turns to survey the scene.

The two men who were by the far wall must have gained courage, and they come barreling toward Jeongguk. One slips on blood and falls back against the floor with a loud smack, but the other manages to get close enough to attempt to slash at Jeongguk with a piece of broken glass. Once again, Jeongguk blocks the punch with a knife to the forearm, then punches a knife into the throat, watching with a plastic grin as the man falls to the ground.

Groans and gargles fill the space, and Jeongguk catches his breath as the room sways and twists before him. His mouth is dry, and the smell of brassy blood is overwhelming, and Jeongguk wants to curl up in a ball and take a nice big nap. 

On the floor, the man who had slipped and fallen convulses, and Jeongguk wonders if his head has been pierced by broken glass. Nobody seems to be getting up, so Jeongguk surmises he must have fourteen down with only one left.

Jeongguk wipes the back of his wrist against his forehead, undoubtedly coating it in sweat and blood, and he turns back to Jae. Blood runs down Jae's wrist, and he shakes like a leaf on a tree—he has clearly been attempting to pull himself from the handcuff. Jeongguk pulls his mouthguard out, sucks in some of the saliva that has pooled, and shoves it into his pocket beside its case.

"Last man standing," he slurs as his high becomes unbearable. "You have three minutes to spill before I kill you."

The tangy scent of urine hits Jeongguk's nose, and he looks down to find a large wet spot on the front of Jae's jeans. He shakes his head and scoffs.

"It wasn't my idea," Jae whimpers. Jeongguk cocks his head and studies the man's face—is he crying? What a fucking wimp.

"Whose idea was it?"

"You know whose!" Jae shouts. "The same family that sent the man to fuck up your boxer! The same family who attacked your whore! They're sending people from all sides to throw you off your game and shake you up!"

"My whore?" Jeongguk growls as he grabs Jae tightly by the jaw. "Jimin isn't my whore, and speaking about one of my family men like that is a good way to get a knife shoved into your filthy little piss hole."

Fear visibly shakes through Jae, who thrashes in Jeongguk's hold. He even grabs onto Jeongguk's wrist with his free hand in a feeble attempt to yank Jeongguk's grip off of his jaw. Jeongguk headbutts him again and squeezes tighter as a dizzying quake rocks through him.

"Why did you accept her offer? Were you really stupid enough to think you wouldn't get caught?"

Jae scoffs and shakes his head, appearing to act tough with tears on his cheeks. "She has men on the inside."

Jeongguk squints, losing his ability to see clearly even as close to Jae as he is. "On the inside? On my team?"

"Well...she did. You killed most of them."

"Who are the others?" Jeongguk demands, and Jae laughs.

"You got everything from me that you could," Jae says. Jeongguk thinks he sees Jae's eyes flash to the side and back, but it takes him too long to process it before Jae mutters, "Kill me and be done with it."

Jeongguk takes a step back, ready to drive the knife into Jae's throat and move on, but an arm snakes around Jeongguk's torso and hot, piercing pain hits him on his side. Jeongguk drives a knife into the hand around his waist, piercing his own skin from the impact, and he yanks the knife away in time for another piercing pain to hit him between his shoulder blades.

Only as Jeongguk spins and finds one of the blood-soiled men holding a jagged, bloodied piece of glass does Jeongguk realize he has been stabbed. He grunts as he thrusts both of his knives into the man's guts and shoves the man back until he slips on blood and falls to the floor.

"Fuck!" Jeongguk shouts in frustration as he spins around and slices Jae's throat open in a broad, sloppy motion. He does not want to deal with stab wounds of all fucking things.

Jeongguk slowly steps back and looks around the room, swaying as he turns and attempts to survey the carnage left behind. Everything is a blur of reds and browns with hints of whites and blues, and Jeongguk stumbles toward the bar to sit down on a stool and catch his breath.

The pain in his side and back tingle-throb, and Jeongguk attempts to remember how to tend to a stab wound, but all he can do is grind his teeth and rest back against the bar top. When the door to the club flies open, Jeongguk doesn't register who approaches until he hears Seokjin's nagging shouts and feels him prodding at Jeongguk's torso.

"Yah, are you injured?" Seokjin shouts, fussing about at Jeongguk's side where his hand is weakly pressing against a wound.

Jeongguk hisses and nods, and then he giggles at the thought of any of these men thinking they could kill him. How stupid of them.

"Where did you park?" Seokjin asks as he gets Jeongguk onto his feet with his arm draped over Seokjin's broad shoulders.

"Front," Jeongguk mutters.

All the world is a blur of lights and colors, streaked and sloppy before Jeongguk's eyes. He steps into the cool night air, and the security guard says something he does not comprehend, and then he fumbles down the short set of steps, onto the sidewalk.

"Jeongguk, I don't see any of your cars," Seokjin says as he shakes him roughly.

Pulled to alertness for a split moment, Jeongguk hums and says, "Ol' minty," while flinging his hand in the direction of his bike.

"Wh—Jeonggukah!" Seokjin shouts. "You said you drove here! I asked you if y—oh, this is unbelievable."

"I dr—I drove my bike," Jeongguk slurs.

Jeongguk is led to his bike where the blurry valet attendant is bowed before him, and Seokjin gets him to straddle the small metal cargo rack above the back tire.

"Feet on the pegs!" Seokjin barks as he lifts Jeongguk's feet one at a time and places them onto small metal pegs that are screwed onto his back tire.

Jeongguk somewhat obeys—he has done this many times before—but his feet slip a few times until he is steady. Then Seokjin moves the bicycle away from the bike rack, tells Jeongguk to hold on tight, and once Jeongguk wraps his arms around Seokjin's ribs and leans his head on his back, they are off.

Seokjin smells nice. Like cigars and the expensive cologne that Hoseok insists he wears. He takes in a nice deep breath and groans happily before letting it out. The night air feels cool on his skin, and he smiles as Seokjin drives them home.

From time to time, Jeongguk hears an unintelligible grunt or groan, but he ignores it; he will undoubtedly hear it again once he has sobered up, so there is no use trying to strain the few remaining brain cells that are still working to try to make sense of it now.

The ride from the city to the property is usually around thirty minutes when it is just Jeongguk. He has no concept of how much time has passed as he attempts to watch a tree line blur by, and although the scenery is familiar and Jeongguk thinks he has some idea of how close they could be, he does not dwell on it. Instead, he closes his eyes.

When the bicycle finally skids to a stop, Jeongguk nearly topples over. Seokjin swears and mutters, and Jeongguk attempts to place his feet on the concrete driveway, but his legs melt like hot wax, and he sinks downward as the weight of his collapsing bicycle drags him to the ground.

Seokjin manages to get Jeongguk untangled from his vehicle and picks him up over his shoulder, carrying Jeongguk potato-sack-style toward a light that shines out into the night through some windows. He hears the mechanical beeping of the locking mechanism and then the door crashes open. The sounds of three particular voices gasping tells Jeongguk that he has been brought to Yoongi's house.

"Taehyung," Seokjin mutters. "I think he's been stabbed. There doesn't seem to be a lot of blood loss; I think he's delirious from being high."

There is some shuffling around, and Jeongguk hangs over Seokjin's shoulder, feeling sleepy and, frankly, completely unbothered by anything. 

So he may have gotten stabbed once or twice, so what? He found out more information, and he got to let go of some of his pent-up rage. His jaw aches, however, and he wishes he had not taken his mouthguard out.

Jeongguk is transferred to a different strong person, and Jeongguk wraps his arms around the different neck and hugs closely. After a split moment, he realizes by the clean smell of lotion and eucalyptus shampoo that it is Taehyung, and Jeongguk smiles as he carries him back outside.

"Stabbed?" Taehyung mutters curiously as the night air hits Jeongguk's cheeks and makes him shiver.

The walk to Taehyung's house from Yoongi's is short, and Jeongguk buries his face into Taehyung's neck as he mutters, "Mmhmm."

Silence falls, save for the crunch of dirt under Taehyung's shoe. Jeongguk thinks he begins to fall asleep, roused by the sound of Taehyung's deep, soft voice.

"Are the wounds deep?"

Jeongguk shakes his head, although, truth be told, he has no idea. There is a wet spot on his back, but it does not feel very big, and the one on his side is pressed against Taehyung.

"How many bodies?" Taehyung asks softly.

The sounds of Taehyung's feet crunching over gravel feels oddly calming to Jeongguk, and for some inexplicable reason, he feels the urge to cry.

"Fifteen," Jeongguk mutters with a tremble. He is cold, and he grips onto Taehyung tighter in search of warmth.

Taehyung tsks and chuckles. "So reckless. You don't have to do these jobs alone, you know? You can take one of us."

"Sorry," Jeongguk mutters, feeling defeated and miserable.

Another chuckle comes from Taehyung, instantly lifting Jeongguk's spirits and making him feel okay. "Don't apologize, baby. We just worry about you."

Jeongguk nods against Taehyung's neck and mutters, "Okay."

"I can't believe how mean you are to me," Taehyung whines in a mocking tone as he leans the two of them forward to punch in the password to his front door. 

Taehyung opens the door and switches on a foyer light, then makes his way down a short ramp into his basement, where his exam rooms and surgical equipment are. The fluorescent lighting makes Jeongguk groan and squeeze his eyes closed.

"First, Hoseok tells me you brought home some nobody to fuck," Taehyung continues to mock-pout, "and then you show up all cut and bruised. Starting to make me think you don't need me anymore, baby."

Jeongguk knows Taehyung is being playful, but he cannot stop himself from taking it very personally, and the sloshing of heightened emotions has him feeling incredibly sad. 

Taehyung means more to him than anyone in the world, which is precisely why Jeongguk tends to keep him at arms-length sometimes. Tears spill from Jeongguk's eyes.

"S-sorry, hyung."

"Awe, my poor crybaby," Taehyung sing-songs as he sets Jeongguk onto a leather exam table covered in a white paper sheet.

Jeongguk continues to hold onto Taehyung tightly until two strong hands wrap around his wrists and pull his arms down. He does not want Taehyung to see him cry, even though it would not be the first time—nor the last.

"Are you bored of me, Ggukie? Is that why you don't call me anymore?"

"D-don't want to bother you," Jeongguk whimpers pathetically, swiftly crashing from his high and feeling the full array of his emotions.

Jeongguk opens his eyes a crack to find Taehyung hovering over him and unbuttoning his soiled shirt. Taehyung chuckles at the sight of the blades and reaches around Jeongguk’s back to undo the belt and pull it free. Then he pulls Jeongguk's shirt away, making Jeongguk shiver, and he surveys the first wound.

"Not too deep," Taehyung says as he meets Jeongguk's gaze and smiles. For the first time in a while, Jeongguk can clearly see in front of him, and he thinks Taehyung is more beautiful than ever. Taehyung quietly studies his face. "You seem to be coming back to me. How do you feel?"

Terrible, Jeongguk thinks. He can't tell if he is fully coming down or if the second pill still has more high to give him, but he trembles and his bones feel restless in his skin, and he cannot keep his emotions from teetering from one extreme to the other, especially with Taehyung looking down at him the way he does.

"Shitty," is all Jeongguk says.

"Let's get you into a nice warm bath," Taehyung suggests with a grin that makes Jeongguk melt. "We'll clean your wounds, and then you'll show me what you did to that pretty boy who you picked up this morning. Sound good?"

Jeongguk will need a lot of cocaine to keep up with Taehyung, especially in this state, and he nods and attempts a smile, feeling his teeth clatter in his mouth.

"That's my good baby," Taehyung groans in a tone so deep, it makes a chill rock through Jeongguk.

There is only one person who Jeongguk lets his guard down for—lets do anything he pleases. And although Taehyung is absolutely terrifying and will undoubtedly be the death of him, Jeongguk cannot tell him no.

thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoy these extras. i lament only writing from one point of view, so these have been a lot of fun for me. hopefully it's not too confusing plopping them into the story as early as chapter 10.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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Collateral is copyright 2022 - 2024 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

"I love how when I shove my very deep and personal thoughts into the Bily narration- well aware that no one will know that I’m just using the chapter to vent and express my emotions in the only way that I know that’s healthy and then I check your comments and it’s just all of those moments 😂" loll they're kinda relatable and good lines.

"Wow now I’m turning this comment into a diary entry too lol I need to stoppppppp" lol

"and as long as you still want to travel between the same stations a ticket is valid for a full year after purchase!" Ohh ok. "I have an old ticket if anyone wants to see what it actually looks like." yes please!

"I can’t quite remember what chapter but I hope people didn’t think the reference was weird :(" it felt a little off topic but was a good section overall. the roundabout way kinda fits her imo.

"One thing that I’d like to say is that noodle only comforts people when they need it like- he’s got a very very good read on the packmates- I think in terms of dominance hierarchy- he considers himself only below Namjoon in the hierarchy- Jin is like…a foreign creature to him" Oh lol he's so cute.

"When I tell you…Yoongi’s angry dialogue in the next chapter is like….so fucking good- possibly the best I’ve ever written him!!! I am!!! So excited to share it with you!!!" AHHHH I CANT WAIT!

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.

~-~

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~-~

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?

Some healing TT Thank you for another great ch!

(finished note: foaming at the mouth waiting for the yoongi and mc smut ahhh)

"Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them." The corpse is still there?? "It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries." Hmm this feels like a flag.

"once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh." loll

"That surviving and being together is even better." TT "although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets." Cute lol "Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.” Hot.

"Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again." So cute TT

"It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is." Noo :/ "Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor." Ahh hot. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?" "Both?" "Both." Loll "“Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is." :(

I'm listening to the playlist. It's pretty nice. "But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through." Aww. Mc taking charge for comforting Tae is so cute. im so proud TT "it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on." oh... :(

"You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath." The nostalgia TT Oh I kinda missed the timing for the "being a girl is fun" song but it fits so well :( "(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)" Ohh Tae and mc wedding time?!

No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure." "I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober." Yay he's being sweet again TT "Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway." lol "It's a blood splatter." Oh no...

"The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece." lol "Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests." ohh thats why the playlist has these vibes.

"Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing" Cute kitties lol Joon did their piercings?! Surprising. (H O T T O GOO) The grooming is so intimate ahh.

Them making the couch TT (homee) "Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says, “Yeah, I’d tell you.”" Ohh I see. them casually talking about the murder lol im happy that she gets closure though. “Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.” “Moonbitch Kookie.” LOL

"When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him." Lol “The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ ohh i thought his first kill was as an assassin.

“That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good." the change lol ""Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"" I can't loll god tier tiramisu.

"Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy." Ohh :( Oops rosario came a little late. "It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for" Ohhh!

"“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but" Jk! lol advice column im dead "The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up" loll "“Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.” huh?!

"i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all." ooh! the mess though :/ "yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism." ohhh true.

"i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit." im not ok :/ (kidding but ahh i want to see my babies be happy)

"i've been…admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks,: :( "and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3" yes!

Before I Leave You (Pt.70)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender. 

Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,

W/c: 12.6k

Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.

There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.

Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.

Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.

For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.

It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.

The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)

You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.

The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.

Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.

Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.

It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.

You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.

A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.

It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.

You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.

The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.

After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.

“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.

You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.

"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.

Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.

Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”

Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”

"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.

"Help me sit on the counter first?"

Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.

Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.

The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.

It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.

Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.

(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).

“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."

“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it” 

their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi. 

Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-” 

Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich. 

"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know." 

Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor." 

Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?" 

Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"

"Both?" 

"Both." 

You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."

"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.

“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.

He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,

"Did you just fucking bite me?"

"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.

Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears. 

"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.

You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head. 

"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.  

"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.

“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.

Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over.  “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is. 

“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!” 

Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise. 

Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.

Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs. 

“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”

Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-” 

Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.

“Come on- epic high is a classic.” 

“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”

At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.

(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)

Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.

Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.

You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever. 

It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.” 

You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 

You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.

"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands. 

Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you. 

“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 

Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-" 

"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 

Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.

He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy. 

“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 

“Still dry,” He says. 

You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from  Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway. 

You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 

Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree. 

Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 

He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 

“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 

“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 

Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through. 

~-~

Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.

"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.

Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.

Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"

Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,

"I don't have anything to wear."

Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.

"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."

"The blue one?"

"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.

"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."

Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."

They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.

You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"

Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.

Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.

It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them.   Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.

You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.

You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.

Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"

"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.

All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.

She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.

They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.

Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.

Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.

Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?

Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-

Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-

You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.

Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.

Tae chose it for you.

You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.

"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.

"I was thinking about my wedding dress."

Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.

But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.

Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories. 

Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?

(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)

"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.

"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too. 

"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."

"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.  

"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."

"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more. 

Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.

You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.  

The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands. 

When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles. 

"Jesus fucking Christ."  

Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.

Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung." 

Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.

"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering. 

"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me." 

Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. 

Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?" 

Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-" 

Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her. 

“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you. 

“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”

And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below. 

It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs. 

They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome. 

“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”

He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair. 

Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could." 

"No one's blaming you hyung-" 

"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.

“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying." 

Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.

Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.

“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized. 

Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”

And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.

Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.

Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.

Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.

The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.

“It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”

Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."

Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.

Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.

You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.

And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.

Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.

Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.

Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.

Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.

Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.

Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.

For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.

Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.

"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."

And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.

“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”

You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”

“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."

Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too.   They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.

Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.

By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice. 

~-~

You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been. 

They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.

You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.

He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul. 

But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying. 

Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck. 

You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's  ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.

You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.

Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there. 

"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-"  he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.

And yet, you still wash him.

You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.

Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.

Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.

His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart. 

You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it. 

Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.

He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook. 

And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol. 

You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon. 

“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”

“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.

“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”

“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”

“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”

Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,

“Yeah, I’d tell you.”

~-~

But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.

The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.

The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.

You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.

“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?

“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”

“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.

There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.

Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."

You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).

the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta. 

Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.

How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now. 

It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels- 

It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest. 

You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls. 

You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true. 

The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do. 

But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?” 

You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side. 

Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again. 

It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep. 

He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle. 

“I bet they were fucking delicious.” 

“Thank you Joonie, they were.” 

Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely. 

“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?” 

“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.

“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out. 

They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream. 

“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway." 

"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.

"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway." 

It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.

“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.

“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”

“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“ 

“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”

“Moonbitch Kookie.” 

You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.

“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it. 

Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”

You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.” 

Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good. 

“You have to be more careful.” 

“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)

The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened. 

Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”

“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.” 

“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.

“I don’t want you to think less of me.” 

Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”

“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.

"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.

"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it.   “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good."   Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.

He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"

"You never asked Yoongi."

"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.

Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”

Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”

Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.

“What do you mean by impartial?”

Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”

Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.

“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”

Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”

At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.

When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.

Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.

“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”

Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”

You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.

“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.

Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”

“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.

Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.

His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.

“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.

Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.

“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”

You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)

Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.

“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”

“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”

“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”

Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”

“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”

Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“

“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-”   “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”

Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!” 

His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.

The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.

You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.

Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long.   “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”

Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?”   Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.”   “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”

~-~

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Notes:

Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3

i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!

The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3

What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.

idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?

i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.

idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!

i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...

i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.

i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3

Until next time!