Apobangpo

explicit warnings: manhandling, public sex, rough sex, hair/head pulling, oral (m rec), choking, cowgirl, spitting, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, breast play, fucking an ex lol yes that’s a warning, multiple orgasms, the chains stay on, hella backshots, emotional sex, creampie OOP, club sex reader is bad, yoongi loses his gd mind, couch sex, wall sex, chair sex, umm yeah alexa play like animals thanks

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“What’s taking you so long!” 

Groaning, you concentrate on getting your lashes just right. “Told you it’d be just a minute!” 

“I know.” Hoseok pops into your hotel bathroom, deep neckline and even deeper scent of cologne almost making you jab yourself right in the socket. “But it’s been ten.” 

It’ll end up being a lot longer than that if he keeps cocking that perfect brow. Shouldn’t he know the rule of getting ready already? 

Done with your current task, you blink and inspect yourself in the wide mirror spanning the master bath. “Yeah, a minute means twenty. So I have ten to spare, right?” 

Bright teeth shine as he shakes his head. And you know it’s because you’re both slated to be super early anyway. 

Everything’s going according to schedule. All your old friends flew in yesterday, and the plan for today is to head to dinner to watch the night game with everyone. After that, you’ll walk straight to the club a few blocks down that you’ve heard to be the best in town. 

Well. Best in town for absolute eye candy. Taehyung warned that everyone that’s been to Lo Prohibito knows the dress code is simple but effective: luxurious. Unless your face card is so lethal you get in on that alone, or you happen to have celebrity status. 

And your confidence can only take you so far. You look fucking good, but you aren’t risking being turned away just because you were lax getting ready. 

So ten more minutes it is. Hobi will just have to deal with it. 

Goddamn, he could get in without a single issue, though. Honestly, he could be wearing a linen shirt and shorts with sandals and they’d mistake him for a millionaire. “I’ll be ready before you know it,” you say over your bare, perfumed shoulder. “You’ll be able to see your lover soon enough.” 

Hoseok shoots you a grin before huffing out, “Got me, huh.” 

“You’re the easiest person in the world to read.” Leaning over your makeup bag, you rummage through your brushes. “Whatever you’re thinking is always written all over your face." 

Quick laughter coats the bathroom in more light. “I can’t help it, okay! It’s always been that way.” When you focus in the mirror and pat your face, he suddenly drops two pitches in tone. “Sorry about yours.” 

Here you go again. You know exactly what he’s talking about. 

“Hobi,” you sigh. “I don’t care anymore, okay? It’s been a month.” 

“I know, but…” Expelling a heavy, sympathetic breath of his own, he leans against the double door entryway. That dulcet yet gravelly tone of his rolls across marble floors as he says exactly what you don’t want him to, “You seemed pretty happy with them.” 

You were. In fact, you were more than happy. 

But something just didn’t feel right. Sure, the days you spent with your most recent fling were perfect. You felt comfortable with them, you admired how thoughtful they were and how attentive. 

It was the nights that made you more than hesitant. 

Because no matter how many times you slept together, you never felt truly understood. What you wanted, what you needed? They would get so close to getting it right, only to never reach that level of intensity and passion you were looking for. 

So you broke it off one quiet, cherry-red sunset on the beach weeks ago. 

Only to find out that they were seeing someone else the whole time anyway. 

Fuck love. To hell with happiness. Why do all your relationships end up this way? Why do you always attract the people that seem perfect on the surface but hide so many flaws underneath? It’s starting to fucking annoy you and you may damn well swear to the single life forever. 

Though. There was one relationship that didn’t exactly end this way. 

But you’re never thinking about that one again, so no point in shuffling through those beautiful, tragic, regretful memories now. 

“And now I’m happy without them,” you finally respond to Hoseok, who tears his gaze from the white floors to see you staring in the mirror. “Probably happy without anyone else, actually.” 

What a fucking lie. 

“I mean, there’s time to find someone you...” Your friend pockets a hand while adjusting his loose top, shadows naturally accenting his abdomen. “Never mind. See you out there. Love the red.” 

You swish the silken floor-length material of your gaudy, quite revealing dress. “Thank you. This is my favorite part, look.” 

Hoseok watches as you stomp your leg out of the thigh-high slit so comically it catches him off guard, cackling before a lighthearted, “Careful with that!” 

“Says the man who’s practically naked.” 

All you get is a shameless shrug before your friend spins on this heel to leave, no doubt checking the texts on his phone. 

At least he's excited about seeing his gorgeous pull after so long. And you do not blame him one bit. The way he looks at her? She may as well be a goddess because his gaze turns almost reverent every time. 

A blurry memory consumes your mind like a haze, and you see completely different eyes with just as much fervor. They watch as you mount slow, chests slick with sweat and breathing deep from hours of—

Manicured hands grip the sink as your brush skitters onto granite counters. 

Fuck. Never again. 

Never, ever, ever again.

Pull yourself together. You’re a whole different person with a whole different future. That version of you is one you left far behind, as well as the life that came with it. 

You extend ten minutes into fifteen. 

And Hoseok’s outright whistle at your emergence lets you know the extra time was worth it. 

—

—

Dinner is loud and vibrant, with the whole restaurant locked in on the game and erupting in cheers when the home team scores. Or at least, the team that the majority of fans want to win scores. 

You aren’t completely sure, because there are jerseys of every country everywhere you look. It’s the one time you feel a sense of togetherness, with everyone giving each other friendly jabs and your group doing and saying anything to rile each other up. 

Hoseok is downright lethal with his date, the two of them showing off jawlines that can kill as they watch the nearest screen. But they’re on the other end of the long wooden table, so you have to find other people to converse with. 

Unfortunately, you find that the person sitting in front of you is a stranger, seemingly knowing someone else in the group and just happened to tag along. He quickly offered small talk when you all started ordering, which you already found a little awkward because you were trying to focus on what to get. 

Now, he keeps giving you more and more information about his achievements and endeavors, not once asking for your name. Figures.

Both the friends you’re sitting next to are no help, either. 

To your left, Jeongguk’s checking his phone for the fiftieth time this hour, scrolling through videos to avoid having to speak to anyone. 

And to your right, Taehyung cheers and stands when another goal is scored, locking elbows with the stranger behind him and drinking from his glass mug. Apparently he had been making fast friends while you were entertaining the guy that keeps staring at you. How cool. Happy for him. Can you both switch seats? 

Your wish doesn’t get granted for another hour. So that means you’re still talking to and giving polite encouragement to this gentleman. Though the term gentleman is very, very generous. It became more than obvious he just wants to fuck from the way he's been shamelessly ogling your plunging neckline. 

Mercifully, Jeongguk finally saves you, leaning in and pretending to show you a reel or tiktok or whatever the fuck he’s scrolling through. Instead, a text he typed into your message thread is all you see. 

Wanna go outside?

Going along and laughing at his fake share, you give him a grateful smile and nod. Turning to the man watching you with curiosity—and is that really jealousy?—you excuse yourself, 

“We’re gonna check out the second floor! Be right back.” 

Not even waiting to see nor hear his reaction.  

—

—

Outside the restaurant and not on the second floor, you can finally breathe again, watching the city come alive with its vehicle rush and streetlight hum. 

Next to you, your tattooed savior takes a long hit of his vape, and you run a hand across the thin gold chain around your neck. 

Without your permission, another memory slips through your defenses. And this one proves sharper, astonishingly clearer than the first.

Hands grab a string of gold from a nightstand, and you instantly ache because you remember what comes right after. As soon as it’s clipped onto a slim neck, you watch the necklace lower, and lower, right before you angle your mouth up to take it between your—

“Fuck.” 

Jeongguk whips his head right as your eyes snap open. “You okay? What’s wrong?” 

No. There are a thousand things wrong. You didn’t even fucking realize your vision went dark until light flooded out your unwanted nostalgia. 

Fuck, you hadn’t thought of that summer afternoon in years. Your reaction was visceral enough to spurn an oncoming headache. “Nothing,” you whoosh out. “What time is it?” 

“Almost time to head over to Lo Prohibido.” Gripping his phone, the man asks with concern, “You sure you’re good to go?” 

Head pulsing, you nod. “Yeah, I’m fine, just dehydrated. Can you pick a city that won't try to burn me out next time? I'm down for traveling but it's been hell here.” 

Unconvinced and unfazed, Jeongguk cocks his head to the door. “Let’s go back in. I know your favorite person is waiting, but you gotta drink water.” 

“Don’t,” you groan. “He’s cute, but I got the biggest ick like halfway in.” 

Your amused friend giggles as he holds the door open, “You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would.” 

Laughing when more cheers erupt from inside, you give his jacketed arm a playful shove as you look down the street. “I’m nice, okay? Don’t—”

Your heart. 

It booms. 

In an instant, the whole world blurs, lights and bodies making solid, serpentine lines and even sound itself rolling to a deep, dull hum.

The only one you can see. The only person you can make out with perfect clarity. 

Is the one you’ve been trying your fucking hardest to not remember. 

Staring right at you with eyes you’ll never, ever forget. 

Yoongi. 

He’s just down the way, standing amongst a group with a striped jersey, dark hair swept so perfectly your chest pangs. Even though everyone around him is animated and laughing, the look on his face makes it undeniable he’s not focused on anything else.

And with a stopped heart, neither are you.

Until your lower back is held, tugging you out of the dream as Jeongguk’s question is laden with worry, 

“Seriously, what’s going on? Do you need to go back to the hotel?” 

You jolt away from his touch, but the action isn’t warranted. For fuck’s sake, he’s a friend you’ve known just as long as you've known the spectre down the street. Why did you feel the need to escape his worrisome hand? He isn't like the guy you just met.  

If that dude had been the one to touch you, though, you would’ve fucking decked him. You are not letting him feel an inch of your skin, and that includes the majority of it you’re baring at the back. 

“No, I’m—I’m fine,” you manage to get out. “Just thought I saw.. Never mind. Water.” 

Yoongi would’ve damn near murdered that creep, too. 

Shit. 

Right before stepping back in, you turn to peer back down the sidewalk, brain concluding that what you saw was your imagination and your heart adamantly disagreeing. 

However, there’s no sign of Yoongi anywhere. That same group of people continues to chitter away outside, but he’s nowhere to be seen. 

So your logic is sound. It was just a dream. There’s no way he’d be here, and he looked way too fucking handsome to be real anyway. Maybe your mind is just playing tricks on you as an act of revenge for making it remember him this much today. 

Because you’re remembering everything. The way he knew exactly how to get under your skin. The times he proved so patient. The way he absolutely knew how to act under your sheets. 

And his. And elsewhere. Anywhere the two of you decided to make love. 

And that singular word is exactly why your flame burned its brightest before choking out. 

You were ready. 

He wasn’t. 

And you regret your decision to leave more than anything else in your entire life. 

Because you could’ve fought harder. You could’ve given him more time. But when you confessed under a blanket of stars and didn’t hear those three words reciprocated, every single celestial plummeted from the sky, plunging you headfirst into a deep, dark ocean of insecurity and bubbling self-loathing. 

The night you left, you left everything. You left your room, your apartment, the city you called home your entire life. Like a coward that couldn’t face rejection. 

Because you didn’t even tell Yoongi goodbye. 

And that’s the last damning reminder you hurl at yourself before rejoining your friends inside. 

—

—

You readily down two glasses of water. 

Inwardly laughing at the fact that the same dude straight up left to “meet up with his brochachos.” 

—

—

Lo Prohibito is decibels louder than the restaurant, and that includes the moments everyone cheered to the max.

A dazzling laser show beams from behind the raised DJ booth, and machines shoot out air to provide much needed circulation and boost the spread of confetti. 

To your delight, everyone here is just as pretty as you imagined. You’re thanking all your lucky clovers that you were accepted inside, strutting in on your heels with chin held high. 

Maybe not as high as it could go. 

But you refuse to let anything else bring you down tonight. You’re supposed to be having another great outing, spending it with your friends and enjoying the nightlife while you’re still able. 

Bright colors span across every surface as a thumping bass shakes your toes, and you wait for the rest of your group to trickle in to find a good dancing spot—and a much needed drink because you are desperate for one. 

At this point, you’ll pay any price to forget whatever the fuck you saw earlier. 

Be it a figment of your imagination, or a devilishly attractive ghost, you just need to wipe that achingly handsome face from your mind. 

There’s no way he’s here. And even if who you saw was real? It wasn’t the man you loved. 

Because there’s no way Yoongi would even look your way again. 

Not like you want him to anyway. Forget him. He gave you everything except the one thing you ultimately wanted, and you couldn’t live in his moonlight without your stars slowly burning out.

Breathe. Focus on the present. Stay in the now. 

“Come on,” he instructs, holding your fingers before grabbing your waist. “Stay with me.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper to your stumbling feet. “I just keep messing up that damn step and it’s annoying.” 

“I know.” He grips your hand, turning so that you land against his chest, comforting tone soothing your burning ear, “But you got a lot more chances to get it. We got time. Stay in the now.” 

“Okay.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

“Come on!” 

Your past whisks away with the club fog, and you follow Hoseok and the rest off the crowded floor. “Where are we going!” 

Hand on the nearest winding staircase, he turns with a smile. “Got us VIP! We’re up here.” 

“No fucking way?” How the hell did Hobi manage to do that? Wasn’t this place booked up the last time you both checked yesterday? “How!” 

Cheekily, the man simply plucks at his undone overshirt and wiggles, smirking as his date doubles over in a laugh. 

“Oh, you’re a freak,” you call out behind him with praise. “Thank you for your service.” 

Thank Jung Hoseok and those abs indeed because the VIP booth is a godsend. Sure, it’s still crowded on the second floor, but at least you don’t have to worry about standing shoulder to shoulder the whole night. You have somewhere to retreat to when you need a breather. 

Which Jeongguk is already taking the most advantage of, settling into the middle of the booth and planting elbows on the long table stretching end to end. Music blares while people shout all throughout the club, but he seems quite zeroed in on his phone. 

Maybe you can both use each other as a scapegoat again if you need to leave. He’s been enjoying himself for the most part, but you can tell he’s extremely ready to go home and the night just started. If you weren’t desperate to let loose and forget years of your life tonight, you would’ve offered to get shitty fast food with him and walk around the city instead. 

Mm. That still sounds like a backup option. 

“Who wants drinks!” Taehyung calls out from the far end of the booth, standing to wave someone down and glancing at everyone giving him their orders all at once. “Let’s just get bottles!” 

Perfect. He knows exactly what to do, so you let him drive and settle into the booth to wait for the liquid ailment to your problems. 

This club has it all, you muse as you take everything in. From endless bottles and extravagant cocktails sailing over the crowd, to sparkler shows and pops of streamers raining down from above, it’s a paradise of a getaway. 

But the outfits? To your surprise, you feel slightly out of place, even arguably overdressed wearing the most expensive thing you own. Yes, there are loads of tens walking around, even some elevens and twelves if you’re honest. But you do see quite a few people in outfits as casual as Jeongguk’s leather.

Either way, almost everyone is dripped in the most lavish jewelry and clothing, from designer to exclusive to wait someone got in wearing a jersey? 

How the hell? Despite the outfits you saw there hasn’t been anyone in here with a jersey, is he famous? It's the same one you saw on the sidewalk when you—

Fuck. That’s not him, is it? You can’t quite see his face, but that back is so… 

No. No no no. You’re staying here for awhile so that better have been another mind trick or you're taking that backup plan with Jeongguk immediately—

“Here,” Taehyung catches your attention while hastily holding out a glass. “This is what you wanted, right?” 

You take it with shaky fingers. “Yes, it’s perfect, thank you.” 

When you turn back, the red and white stripes are gone. 

And you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“You okay?”

Turning, you notice that Tae’s eyes are extremely focused on yours. You nod as you down your shot in one go. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His honey rasp slows on the way out, “You sure..?”

“Yeah.” When you push more of the stinging, sweet alcohol down, you decide to start telling him what you saw. “I just… I thought I saw…”

Taehyung is one of the only ones that never questioned why you left town. Which you’re grateful for, because you couldn’t handle all your other friends sending you text after text after call. It was fucking overwhelming, but you had one person that just allowed you to make decisions and live with them. 

“Saw who?” He asks, cutting through your vision with long fingers in a wave and calling you back to reality. 

“No one.” You don’t even wanna say his name. It carries the weight of the world. “Forget it! I’ll be good as soon as we start.”

Unconvinced but letting you have space, Tae doesn’t pry. 

“If you say so.”  

—

—

For the next hour, everything is great. You play stupid drinking games with your friends, cheer for the most random shit the house emcee yells, and you start to slowly wash the unwanted memories from your mind. 

At one point, Jeongguk stuns the section by dancing on booth cushions and swinging his jacket, revealing he only had a thin tank underneath. Many people stare slackjawed at his physique and understated choice of outfit, but you can only cackle with your friends because you all know he’s gonna go right back to his phone in seconds. He just really, really likes the song playing. 

And you’re enjoying the DJ set, too. As long as they don’t play specific songs, you can enjoy the rest of the night in absolute peace. 

Especially the one song that haunts your every waking moment. The first time you heard it, in a club somewhere along pink lemonade sand, you trudged knee deep into the crashing tide and didn’t leave until the sun dipped under the horizon. 

Because it hit too close to home. And your deluge of tears gave back infinite saltwater to the sea. 

Relax. Don’t throw any possibilities into the atmosphere, especially when your mind is fucked up tonight. Your friends are heading down to the dance floor, so go with them and forget everyone else. 

Making sure your drink is finished, you feel ice hit your lips before clinking it down, rushing to join your group at the top of the staircase. 

Only to stutter so close to the edge your heart leaps out of your chest.

It keeps falling, and falling. Because there’s no mistaking this time. That man you saw wearing the outfit that’s starting to haunt you? He’s talking animatedly to someone across the second floor, dusty pink elbow perched on the railing with a drink in his still so veiny hand. 

And your mouth turns sour at the way his shoulder is tapped by pretty nails, tongue hot and darkly spiced when Yoongi just laughs into his cup.

God. He’s here. He’s devastating without even trying.

And, as your blasphemous logic reminds you, that beautiful smile will never be yours anymore.

But that doesn’t stop you from staring. Because while on the street, you could’ve argued he was a hallucination birthed from dehydration. Right here, in this moment, you’ve sobered up in a snap and you know for a fact what you’re seeing is real.

Maybe it was better when you assumed he wasn’t. 

At least then, you didn’t have to entertain any worse outcomes than just seeing him. You didn’t have to think about how you’d feel seeing him so close to someone else.

Looks like the universe is giving you the final consequences of your escape. Yoongi has your fate in the warm, rough palm of his hand, and you know he’ll do nothing but let it fall to the rumbling floor below. Just to watch with unblinking eyes.

“Hey, you gonna go down or what?”

Turning, you start to move to the side, embarrassment heating the skin of your back that was just lightly grazed, “Shit, sorry—”

A strong arm pushes you sideways into hard metal as a duo of guys head down the stairs. You figure it’s an accident, but that doesn’t stop your face from contorting in pain and a curse to fling from your mouth. Because damn that fucking hurt. 

“Dude, watch it!” The one behind looks back at you to apologize, “Sorry about my—”

Oh… Really… 

The guy from dinner halts in his apology, and your brow lifts right before he waves you off. 

Waves you off. 

At least your intuition is always spot on. Good riddance, you were completely valid to ditch his brochacho ass earlier. 

Rolling your eyes skyward and even aiming a petulant tongue at his retreating back, you scoff before leaning on chilled metal, letting a moment pass before heading down to Taehyung and the rest of them. 

Where are they anyway? If you don’t spot them from here it’s gonna be hard to find them on the.. ground.. 

Your heart looks up before you do.  

And you catch your ex watching intently from across the way, phone sliding from his ear before he straightens to start walking. 

…Towards you? 

Fuck. 

It’s been bad enough catching glimpses of Yoongi and seeing him entertain someone else. If he gets one foot right in front of you? Everything you’ve worked so hard to build up against him and the haunting memories of your relationship will collapse into dust. You can’t bear him seeing how you haven’t changed your fucking mind. 

To your utmost pain, all roads have always led back to him. No matter how deep you relate to or click with someone, no matter how happy another person makes you, no one has come close to how Yoongi made you feel. 

Because he’s the only one that understood even the darkest parts of you. And he’s the only light in your life you ran away from. 

There’s a reason you watch every sunset. There’s a reason you stand on the beach back home and don’t move your sandswept legs until the last rays give way to the ocean line. 

It’s because of the guilt. The guilt of turning away from the warmth you held in your hands and the warmth you left behind. 

Your eyes stay tethered as your ex makes his way down the long side of the upstairs balcony, partiers smushing together and bottles roving over his head as ladies take them to VIP tables. 

Based on the heat in his eyes? Yoongi’s on the universe’s side. There’s no way he’s seeking anything else other than revenge. 

Shit, shit shit. This isn’t good for you. Literally nothing great nor healthy can come out of this if he ends up in your orbit. One word, two words, and even worse, three words from those unforgettable lips would destroy you and never let you recover. 

But your hands stay tight on the warming railing. And they won’t fucking let go. 

Downstairs. Go down the stairs. Go. 

Yoongi’s almost here. All he has to do is round the corner. He's close enough for you to notice the silver chains adorning his neck.

And the last thing you think with a withering heart is how devastatingly handsome he’s become. 

With a tight breath, you pelt high heels downward one hasty step at a time. Winding, winding, spiraling like the thoughts storming your mind. The further down you go, the farther away he is. 

Your heel catches on your dress before you stumble, but you don’t look back to see if Yoongi’s even still behind you. 

Chill the fuck out and don’t fucking trip. You already had nasty falls before with scars to prove it and a sticky club floor is the worst place to sprawl onto. 

Keep going. Disappear into the crowd. Go find your friends. 

And deal with the unmoving, gaping hole in your chest later. 

—

—

It takes you awhile to find them, but soon enough, you're back to having the time of your life. The lineup of DJs is all stellar, with only a few misses here and there, even getting Jeongguk to stay on the dance floor longer than you expect.

What's even better? There's no sign of Yoongi. Surrounded by sweaty bodies and flashy grins, you don't catch a single glimpse of him in the crowd.

Good. That's good, right? You wanted this. You wanted to avoid him and run, just like you did the last time.

Your group starts to split up in the commotion of lights and confetti and streamers, but you're fine dancing on your own. With each ebb and flow of music, you lose yourself, letting your heart get swept away by stories of love and loss. Every song holds a piece you understand. Every verse carries the same message.

You aren't alone in being alone.

So embrace it. Let the hurt come later. Smiling wide, you await the next song up, arms thrown in the air with everyone in beautiful togetherness around you.

Then it starts.

The one song you knew you'd hear at some point but sure as fuck didn’t want to.

While people around roar at the familiar opening, you feel like disappearing entirely. Where’s the nearest coastline? You need a rising tide. 

As the melancholic notes buzz up your chest, you slowly, quietly, lower both arms to your sides. Around you, the floor moves in sensuous circles and dips, and you envy everyone for not feeling how you feel. This glowing, searing pain setting your chest ablaze until it’s nothing but a pile of cinders, only to be washed away with the waves crashing against your knees.

With each scathing line, your heart cries, remembering exactly why it hit too deep. All those lessons you took that started on a whim. All those sunny afternoons practicing and stumbling about your living room. All those times you were held close and knew there’d be no one else.

Your heart isn't strong enough to stay in the now. It doesn’t want to. It will always remain in the past, on a rooftop gazing into a sea of stars and hoping for a different outcome. 

Night, after night, after night. 

Suddenly, you’re back in the past, too.

Because a hand, so sure and so steady, settles onto your hip from behind, and your eyes burn when another slides along your bare shoulder. Heat from a body you can sense from anywhere in the fucking universe warms the skin at your back, and you shake as lips touch the shell of your ear to whisper three words that shatter what’s left of your soul, 

“One last time.” 

You aren't in the past. You're here. And so is he.

Breath whooshing out in a hitch, your throat is in absolute flames as your eyes slide shut. Then you nod, because you can’t think of doing anything else, and you allow him to lead.

And he feels so perfect against you it hurts. 

You feel how strong he’s gotten, how sturdy and lean. And yet, you also feel the same soft give you used to feel all those years ago. You know how pliant he could become under your mercy, just like all those times he gave you complete control. If you faced him, you could run your hands along that stomach you’ve kissed every inch of a thousand times over. 

But you’re too much of a pathetic coward to turn around. 

When you back into him, his quick hiss into that groan you miss so fucking much flips every warning light in your body. But you can’t help it. You know this dance, this connection, this reunion will be the last you will ever have. 

He never loved you. You never said goodbye. 

Everything that’s left unsaid swirls around you as you move in perfect sync, both your hips moving as one and your hand snaking up and back to grip his neck fuck he feels just like home. 

Yoongi… Still feels like home. 

A single, hot tear leaks from your eye as you sway, burning a path down your cheek as your other hand closes tight around fingers holding your side. When he grips you even tighter, another tear betrays you, and you feel his lips so close to your neck you expect him to kiss there if he wanted to. 

But he doesn’t. 

Of course he doesn’t. 

So you take what you’re given. A dance. Just one. One last unforgettable dance before your life changes all over again. 

Knowing this song by heart, you know it’s approaching the end. The bittersweet last chorus clues you in, and you tense around his neck just a little tighter, hoping Yoongi didn’t catch the need in your fingers for this moment to never end. 

Mother Earth can swallow you whole as soon as the last word is sung. You give her your express permission. 

Because you feel so hopelessly in love all over again, and you can’t bear your affection to be unreciprocated a second time. 

Just like that. Against your deepest, sincerest wishes. 

The song dies. 

And immediately after, as if your world hasn’t just been upheaved and tossed to the wayside, the next number booms. Everyone on the dance floor cheers again when it’s extremely familiar and a faster tempo. Even more people fill the floor because they need to feel this one in their bones. 

And you need nothing else but to leave. 

Get out. Go. Yoongi said so, right? One last time. It’s over. This tension between you needed an outlet and that song was the one out you both could use to set it free. 

And it’s done. So you start your brisk walk away.

Only for your wrist to be held and your heart to fall out of your ribcage. 

Fuck.

When you turn, you forget you’re tear-streaked and full of painful regrets. 

And the look on Yoongi’s face heats your soul all the way through. 

Because his eyes are unwavering, brows cut deep and mouth completely shut. Over his forehead, tendrils of mussed bangs sweep slow, and his chest rises and falls with every hard, wordless breath he takes. 

And you finally get the courage to whisper his name. 

Without a word, he slowly pulls you in, not stopping until your hands softly push into his strong chest and your face is inches from his. All heavy bass and bright beats of music fall away. All lights shift until you can only see him. 

Time. All that time apart vanishes when you finally feel this close again, his steady expression watching you with an emotion you can’t place but feel ripping at your walls to destroy them. 

What is happening? What’s he doing? 

Does he know he has the power to hurt you in ten million different ways?

Fingers rise to wipe the sadness from your face, only inviting more to pour from your eyes. “Yoongi,” you whisper again, breaking the dam you’ve been building block by block this whole time, just like you were afraid of. And you can’t fucking stop. “Yoongi…”

Then, when his eyes slide shut, you think he’ll let you go. Why can you only say his name? Why the fuck are you ruining this singular moment that you’ve only dreamed of having wait wait why is he resting his forehead against yours fuck wait—

“You know how long,” he breathes out, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that again.” 

Have mercy.

Your soul finally snaps in two. 

You can only say it once more, broken and chipped, before Yoongi grips your jaw and kisses you like it’s his last minute on earth. 

And you push back with a ferocity that’s been dormant for years, a magnificent flame never awakened by anyone else. Nothing else. Just him. Only him. 

Rivers stream from your eyes as his arms circle you, hands gripping the skin of your back as your nails rake down his. Around you, people dance and bump into your bodies, but neither of you seem to fucking care. No one else exists. The only music you hear is every deep breath Yoongi takes and it’s your favorite, favorite, favorite.

You shouldn’t be doing this. There’s no possible way this doesn’t leave you without a broken heart and a shell of whatever intact spirit you have left. 

But goddamn if you don’t stay in the now more than ever. 

“I don’t give a shit,” you tumble into his mouth, waiting until he pulls away enough for you to spill every forbidden thought you’ve harbored in your beating chest. “I don’t care if you never loved me. I don’t care if you moved on. I just—just tonight, Yoongi, I need you—”

Your plea is engulfed by another soulshaking push of his lips, and you think that’s the end of it until he tugs away from you before swerving his head around the floor. 

“Come here,” he orders, gripping your hand and reminding you just how perfect his fingers slot with yours. 

Time. You’re getting more time? Your tears and the burning in your chest don’t quell as you’re led through the crowd. When you get strange or pitied looks, you don’t care. All these perfectly dressed people can fuck off. 

When they stare at the man guiding you, that’s what gets your stomach flaring. They can have him. Just after you get one last time to carry you through the rest of your loveless life. 

Yoongi suddenly turns to look at you trailing behind, and he waits to bring you in front of his side, now leading you both together through the rest of the packed floor. 

Ah. This is the man you remember. 

And that just makes everything hurt even more. 

Soon, you’re led off the dance floor and through a series of turns, Yoongi heading up a long back staircase before rounding into a hallway of doors before he checks each one. 

What are these? Karaoke rooms? Party rooms? You don’t know, but the ache in your body hunches you over, and it takes everything to not crumble before he finally stops and yanks open a door. 

“Yoongi, what are you—?”

A dim, neon-lit room is what you come to, and you hear a faint click while noticing the long window looking out into the club below.  Different lounge chairs and couches fill the space, and you can see just enough out the glass to know you’re even high above the VIP tables. The room feels exclusive but you don’t get to observe anything else as you’re being pushed into the nearest wall to be liplocked again. 

Fuck, he’s gotten even better at this. 

Just like you have. 

As your dress is gripped tight, your thoughts all blur together in a lustful slurry. How many has he taken to bed after you? Do you remember your own count? Has anyone else made him feel like you do? With a searing green flare, you remember that no one has come close to him. How awfully one-sided would that be if he found someone that completed him.

A veiny hand grips the side of your neck before sliding to your head. “Fuck,” Yoongi grits out. “I… I can’t.” 

...What? 

No. No no no. 

Your heart begins its fast descent. Because if Yoongi doesn’t want this, you have to respect that. As much as you will scream into the night, you’re not gonna stop him if he gets up and leaves. 

Because you did. So why shouldn’t he get that same chance to destroy you? 

“I get it,” you hitch out, holding his strong wrist with shaky fingers. It’s only fair. This felt too good to be true anyway. “I know.” 

“It’s not that.” Yoongi slides his free hand on the wall, holding it at your shoulder. “I just… Fuck, if we do this, I can’t promise I’ll hold back.” 

Oh. Fuck that. 

You tug the warm silver around his neck. “Then don’t,” you urge to his grunt. “If this is all we get? I don’t fucking care.” 

“Even if I t—”

“Do it, Yoongi,” you plead with a gritted cry. “You can do anything to me, whatever it is just do it.” 

“Fuck.” 

All doubt flees from his eyes as your back gets smushed into the wall, your lips puffed and parting when he places hot, open mouthed kisses down your column. 

Hands keep their quest in gathering up your dress. And you make quick work of his belt before pulling, tugging, yanking it out of its holster. 

“The fuck,” he shoots out. “Who the fuck taught you that?”

Your eyes flicker to his as you grip the hem of his jeans. “You really wanna know?”

“No.” He switches up on a dime. “Don’t tell me.”

Your lips collide again before he rips his mouth down to attack your chest, nipping at a spot that has you flinching and hand sliding between your legs. When he runs a finger along your underwear, his eyes practically burn out as he growls, “You’re this fucking wet already?”

“I told you,” you gasp out. “I need you.” 

Your hand is yanked to the front of his jeans, and shock and emotion completely cover the expanse of your face feeling how unbelievably hard he is.

Unfazed, Yoongi continues kissing up to your shoulder, leaving hot saliva trails all over your skin and bunching your silk in his hands. “Seeing you in this? Lost my shit.”

“You're lying.”

“All fuckin' night."

“Liar.”

Liar, liar. A bold faced lie. You saw him talking to other people. You saw his anger piercing across the club. But you watch as his look levels, and your cheeks sizzle at the way he shifts his jaw, 

“I’d never lie to you.” 

Shit. Your heart bats eyelashes before you shove it out of frame. 

The organ in your chest is a walking liability, especially when it’s connected to your mouth. So there are many, many things you might reveal tonight in the throes of agony and passion. Things you will regret come morning waking to an empty bed. 

The best way to not say anything that could potentially do more harm than good? Keep your lips occupied. And that’s exactly what you intend to do. 

“We’ll see,” you grit out, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. When Yoongi lets you twist to shove him back against the wall, his eyes flare in dark need when he hisses, 

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” 

To show him how you’ve grown in the years you separated, to show him what he could’ve fucking had. 

To show him that you aren’t taking a single bit of this last, serendipitous night for granted. 

Kneeling slow, you slide your hands along his clothed chest, kissing his chains exactly how you used to and smearing lipstick all the way down his jersey.

“Fuck…”

Balancing on your heels, you wince at the tight bend in your knees, but you aren’t going down completely because your kneecaps aren’t what they used to be. Fuck that. You can do plenty in a low squat anyway, and he’s seen you look a hell of a lot more awkward many times. “Shit,” you still whisper. “You’re lucky I can’t wait to swallow you.”

A curse flings out of his mouth. “Get up, babe.”

Heart ringing at the name, you reject his order with a harsh, “Shut up.” 

You want this, and you know for a fact he does, too. When Yoongi tries to bend, you pull down his underwear, springing his cock free and almost salivating at the sight. 

Just like you remember. Everything about him is just how you remember, and yet his body has only gotten stronger and filled out in all the perfect places. Yoongi’s a man now. A real, grown man. 

If you both just met tonight, you know he would’ve asked for your name before anything else.

Cut the shit. You are not getting into that now, not when you have him with hands trembling against a wall before you take him in your palm. As soon as you touch, Yoongi expels a deep groan, kicking his head back and gripping the wall with a large hand.

What’s going on? You haven’t even done anything yet. Why does your chest constrict at how sensitive he is? This isn’t the time to relax, but you really can’t help but soften at his complete and utter unravelling. 

It’s almost as if nothing’s changed. 

Yoongi lowers his gaze, and you lock glistening eyes before you take him in your mouth, slow on the tip and swirling to get it coated and prepped just right. Your hand expertly glides along his solid, slick length, squeezing at the spot you know makes him fold. 

“Holy fuck,” he gasps out, hand hesitating to palm your head before balling in a fist against plaster. “Shit, babe..”

Again? Does he even realize what he’s saying? Is he trying to hurt you because if that’s his goal it’s fucking working. 

Anger, regret, painful nostalgia drives you forward, sinking his velvety ridges inside your throat and proving to him how much better you’ve gotten. With every plunge, you hollow your cheeks, already feeling the telltale searing at your eyes and spiraling up your throat. His endless stream of sounds and praise tumble down your skin, and you keep sucking mercilessly even when his hips buck and his eyes squeeze tight.

Releasing with a loud pop, you feel a huge strain on your soaked legs as you adjust, tilting your drenched chin to bury your face in his sack to lick and take it in.

“Baby..”

At this new, old nickname, you grip his cock tighter, swallowing him whole again just to hide your real tears behind the ones streaming from taking him in so deep. 

More. You give more, and more, and more. Time will take away everything else so what you can give is all you got.

Hands grip your head in desperation, and you let Yoongi push you onto his length until your airway is closed tight, nose and cheeks flush against the skin of his thighs. His scent is heady and just like you remember, if only slightly different due to the new musky cologne he’s probably sticking with nowadays. Not like you can focus on it too long because your airway is screaming to be freed again. 

Tears leak over your lashes as want slicks your cunt, and you hear syllables that could be words before you finally give his legs a telltale tap.

Oxygen floods your lungs as more tears stream from your eyes, lips sopping wet and saliva leaving your chin in strings. Gulping, you go right back to it, taking him in again and pumping his slick ridges quick.

“Get up,” he commands with a rasp so deep it rumbles your chest. “Get the fuck up.” 

You’re pulled upward so fast your legs cry at the bends, and you’re spun so quick the wall hits your shoulderblade and you cry out into a furious mouth. 

Pleasure and pain intertwine as you match his intensity, raking at his shoulders and clawing into his hair. With each kiss, he reaches deeper into your throat, and you know he can taste himself on your tongue with the way he claims it in waves.

For a moment, there’s no one else in the world. You aren’t in a dimly lit lounge in a club away from home. You’re right here in his bedroom, getting slung and dragged along his wall and knocking every one of his plaques and posters off-kilter. 

“Yoongi, I—”

“I know.”

Without further prompt, Yoongi wrenches at your dress to shove it up to your hip, burning a path along your leg with expert fingers. As you hook itover his smooth forearm, your lips part when his other hand slides between your thighs. 

You know your underwear is soaked all the way through. 

And now, so does he. “Goddamn.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” you gasp out. “Just—”

“Are you still on the—”

“Yes.”

Shifting the sodden material to the side, Yoongi wastes no time, angling himself to rub over your folds and moaning in tandem with you because holy fuck this already feels so—

“This fucking pussy,” Yoongi grits out, sliding in perfectly and so smoothly it’s like neither of you ever left each other's sides. Your high moan cuts into the cherry ceiling when he sounds like he’s just struck gold, “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Yoongi, please—”

He’s talking absolute nonsense. Gonna be? How is that possible when you won’t see him again? 

All questions vaporize when Yoongi’s hips snap up, launching you up the wall again, and again, and again. Pops of need and lust zoom straight to your head, sparkling out of your eyes when you feel his lips smothering your neck. 

You’re in heaven. You’re in hell. It feels so good it hurts. Caught in a flurry of need and anguish, your nails rake down his shoulders before scratching at his arms, shivering at his outright growl, 

“Don’t do that.”

“Oh, I—”

“Do that shit again and I’ll come.” 

Shit. You don’t understand how he could be so shameless. You’re trying your hardest to keep it together and here he is saying whatever the fuck he wants? If you let your mouth just as loose as he has there’s no telling what you’d be shouting out. 

But you settle for an apology for now, just in case you actually hurt him, “Sorry.. My nails are super long right now.”

“I noticed.” Another thrust launches you into the sky. “They look good but they hurt like hell.”

“Oh.. Sorry again.” A moan escapes when he shoves into you, mind hazy because he’s still placating you. 

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.” Devilish, he breaks into a slow smirk you haven’t seen in ages, and your ribcage folds inward and inward. “I’m just not fucking done with you yet.” 

Oh. He doesn’t want this to end, either. 

Now that changes every fucking cog in your brain. 

You keep yourself upright as long as you can, arms slung around his neck as you both move together, dip and lean together, breathe so hard it scorches your chest together. Every muscle in your planted leg burns, but it’s nothing compared to the stare you have connected to his eyes. With each deep thrust, his brows furrow and his teeth peek from his lips, and every groan you hear goes right into a chest for safe keeping. Right next to all the other memories you want to lock away.

Yoongi’s pace starts to quicken the more your mewls encourage him. What was sensuous is now unbearable and, as your dress threatens to shift, you know your breasts will be on full display soon, and Yoongi bites his lip with a grunt with his next hard thrusts.

Soon enough, you feel a chill on your nipples as they’re freed, moaning to the ceiling when Yoongi immediately heats one whole with his tongue. “Baby!”

Goddamn it. You weren’t supposed to address him like that, too. But maybe it’s better than saying his name because every time you do there’s a charge sparking the air. 

So you decide to switch, moaning the same word over and over as he licks and sucks, dragging his teeth along your exposed chest and littering it with heavy proof of his lips. Just like the lipstick on his jersey, you know he’s claimed his own marks on your skin. 

And neither of you will be able to hide them when you part.

Expelled tension flits about in light streaks as you move with him, slick with exertion and tight with muscles working in double time. You both know this is the last time and you’re acting like it. And you send a prayer to the heavens to let time stop just to keep holding him in your arms. 

Suddenly, your heel slips, and you yelp before strong arms keep you upright. “Shit, sorry.”

“I got you.”

Summer sunsets smother your vision as you let him guide you from the wall, gently placing your leg down and leading you to a sofa. Everything simmers to a lull, and you have a moment to catch your breath and steady your racing, racing heartbeat. 

When Yoongi sits on vibrant cushions, you admire the way his biceps fill those sleeves right as he tugs his jersey clean off. And you have to fight to not teeter over, continuing to stare in awe at him, so perfectly filled in some placed and chiseled in others that you start to wonder how you even left in the first place.

Of course you know why you did. So why bring it up now when you’re right here? Why agonize over the past when you’re standing right between his legs?  

“Baby.” 

You flick your gaze back up to his. 

“Stay with me.”

Tears zing up your eyes as you nod, heart plugging your throat as you mount his toned thighs. When you feebly place hands on his searing shoulders, you hate the way your words shake on the way out, “Stay in the now. I know.”

Yoongi’s eyes shine with a light in them you weren’t sure was there before. But you can’t wait long enough for confirmation because your heart is keeling over with ache. 

He remembers. He remembers. Does that mean he’s thought about you, too? 

Focus on something else. No time to think about the past, nor the future. No time to notice that the way Yoongi looks at you now is so heartbreakingly similar to how he worshipped you before. Back when things were perfectly imperfect. Back when you were sure he loved you before he proved to you that he didn’t. 

“Still so beautiful.”

Liquid fire fills your eyes as your breath hitches, guiding his length to your entrance before sinking onto him with no issue. When you both groan, you let your glittery vision watch the ceiling instead of him when you admit, 

“You look so fucking good in red.”

There’s no response as you breathe, angling yourself to feel him deep and moving in a slow push and pull along his legs. Your thin chain tightens as your neck strains above Yoongi’s head, and you wish you had the guts to look down at the ones around his neck. They’re already deadly resting on his clothes, but rocking against the flush of his skin is how you love them the most.

Still, you can’t bear to look. You know you’ll lose yourself in those eyes if you dare stare long enough. Because what you saw earlier looked too close to longing, which would be impossible because that only exists in yours. 

“And,” you whoosh out in tired breaths, gripping your fingers on him a little tighter, “Looks like you.. finally hit the gym.. like I kept fucking saying.” 

A puff of warm laughter hits your chest before sweaty hands grip your waist. “Always said I would.”

“But you never did,” you huff out, grinding on him harder and melting at his little sounds. One thing you will keep giving this man credit for: he isn’t ashamed to be just as vocal as you are. The more people you ended up meeting? The rarer and rarer you realized that bedroom quality was. 

“I did eventually,” he grits, holding you in place and surging into you so hard you yelp to the stars. “Didn’t I.”

“Fuck you,” you bite, moaning when your argument dies the moment his tongue swirls around a nipple again. What’s left comes out a garbled mess of a groan, and you hate, hate, hate the dark chuckle against your breast. Partly because he’s a constant problem, and partly because you yearn to see his smile again. 

“What else is new about you,” Yoongi suddenly rasps, hands lowering to rest on your hips as you ride him. “Aside from clearly getting better at this.”

Lost in lust and surprised at his question, you finally peer down to see him looking up already. “No thanks to you.”

And your world stills as he doesn’t respond right away, any hint of sunlight fading from his features. “No thanks to me,” he slowly agrees. 

Fuck. You didn’t mean to do that. 

Slowly slipping hands from his body, you rise from his length and mourn the disconnect before standing. When Yoongi only regards you with eyes on fire, you slowly turn and rest on his thighs. 

He’s not gonna like this. But he asked.

You turn your head before slowly sliding one side of your dress completely down, revealing a rough scar on your back a little lower than your shoulder.

And your soul immediately clenches when Yoongi heats your back with his body heat. “The fuck?” His fingers feel so light, so protective as they caress your mark. It’s confusing, and you abhor it as much as you need it. “What happened?”

“I fell,” you whisper. “Pretty hard.” 

Details of how and when it happened don’t matter. But he wanted to know what was new, and the scar on your heart isn’t exactly readily available to show. 

“I did, too.” 

What? At his voice over your shoulder, you strain your neck to see him. “When?”

Why is he kissing your scar? Exes don’t do that. Exes don’t do anything you’re doing right now. 

“Before you left.”

Now you feel worse. When the hell did that happen? Why didn’t you know about it? “Sorry,” you breathe out with sorrow. “I didn’t know.”

Another slow, calm graze of his mouth tightens your throat. Because he’s since moved across your back, lips now touching where your shoulderblade hit the wall. 

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “I never told you.” 

He never told you many things.

Stepping into dangerous territory is making you regret showing him your worst moment. So you shift your ass to push over his cock, feeling it throb against you when you wisp out the worst reminder, “We don’t have much time.”

“Mm.”

When you feel his hands shift your dress, you lift up and allow you both to effortlessly situate you back where you wanna be. Your back hits his chest as he guides himself up into your folds, and your head kicks back to lie across his shoulder like the red silk flowing over your thigh. 

“Just like you said,” you start to whisper, eyes already welling with oncoming regret, “One last time.” Every syllable just as melancholic as the notes of your favorite song. 

When Yoongi starts, your heart weeps at the pace. Because it reminds you of better times, sensuous and intentional and convincing you to confess all over again. It takes everything not to speak, your moans escaping in weak puffs and your hips swelling in a calm wave. 

This is too much. This is way too fucking much and you finally break when his name leaves you like a prayer. “Harder,” you beg. “Please, please go—”

You’re cut off as soon as his hips jolt up, flinging you to life before going at a menacing pace. Yes yes yes this is the one you need. The one you crave. The one that leaves no room for feelings and decisions. Your dress threatens to slip off your sides with each pound, slowly rolling and accentuating your chest in seconds. “Shit, holy shit!”

“Fuck, you’re so tight—”

“So fucking big—”

As if knowing exactly what you want, your arms are held back, locked into place as you’re under the absolute mercy of his dick slamming up into you over and over, skin slapping obscene and thighs burning from the stretch across his lap. 

Yoongi knows you better than anyone else. A frustrated growl tears from your lips as you arch so far back you connect clouds, and a strong forearm wraps across your stomach to pin you so fucking close you may as well mold right into him. Passion streaks down your limbs as sweat beads along your skin, the heady scent of sex and forbidden fruit swirling into your nose. 

More. More more more he’s giving you everything. As your arms are freed, you can only grip the other forearm slinging over your upper chest, nails digging into creamy skin and leaving angry, cherry red lines.

Words, praise, everything under the sun is being spewed onto your slick shoulders as you mash your teeth and eyes tight. You even hear a word you’ve been wanting to hear for years, but that can’t possibly be true because there’s no way Yoongi would ever—

A hand closes around your throat, and your eyes fly back into your head.

You’re so close. Fucking hell, your thighs are singing and your throat is burning and your abdomen strains from the arch but you need this release. You need this tidal wave to consume you. If only to forget for a split second that Yoongi isn’t—

“—yours.”

What?

Another fierce round of thrusts almost topples the two of you over, and white hot pressure paints the edges of your eyes as you strain for breath. You’re so close. So fucking close it’s right within reach.

But it all vanishes in a snap as Yoongi stops, and you cry with a teary rasp, “No, please, baby—”

“Not yet.” He hauls you up, making you sit straight and facing away yet again. “You know what to do.” 

Fuck. There’s no way he remembers this, too. You flinch at the slap to your breast before shakily getting up, legs wobbly but positioning yourself on his cock perfectly before sliding down. 

Both heels planted on the ground, you brace his strong knees and work his slick length, eyes rolling at his breathy groans and curses leaving his mouth in spurts. 

You know exactly what to do to make him lose his goddamn mind. So you do it all, swirling and swerving your hips while flicking off your silk, showing him the best view of your ass as it bounces. Your legs tire, but you don’t, and you use the music leaking into the room to set your sickening, aggravating pace. 

“Fuck, baby..”

“You asked for it.”

“Don’t regret a goddamn thing.” 

You can tell he’s on the brink of madness, and you can only picture the way his head thumps back on the couch, mouth torn by his teeth and brows furrowed to hell. His muscles are probably contracting in waves, including the ones in his perfect, bulging arms. 

“You shouldn’t,” you hum. “Since this is all you get.” 

Without a word, hands reach out and tug you backward, and you’re up on your feet and tripping before your hands slap the firm cushions of the next chair over. “What the fu—”

To your absolute delight, Yoongi plants a foot on the chair before gripping the pliant dip of your hips, pushing tears from your eyes with each quick, deep thrust he rams forward. Stars dance along your vision as drool leaks endlessly from your mouth. “Baby—! Fuck!”

“This pussy’s so.. Fuck.” You’re shoved so far down that your moist cheek smushes into firm cushion. “Say my name.”

“Babe—”

“As much as I wanna hear that every fucking day”—Yoongi shoves into you again and keeps his cock thrumming inside your cunt—“Right now, I’m gonna hear my name. So say it.”

“Yoongi—”

His deep, gritted command makes you snap, “Louder.”

“Yoongi—!” 

You feel it. You’re at the brink again. With every snap of his skin pounding against yours, you’re inching closer and closer and closer to the edge, waiting for the fall that will end you. “Baby, I’m gonna—”

Firm arms haul you upward and you’re both travelling the room again, legs skittering until you hit back first into the nearest wall fuck that took your breath out.

Yoongi’s breath catches as he slams a hand against the plaster to steady, face burrowed in your neck and hair brushing harsh against your ear as he buries inside of you again. Fire spews from his mouth as you feel his cock squeeze up into your cunt, and his arm tenses tight behind your knee as he commands,

“Come for me, love.”

You don’t know what the fuck you just heard but you know he didn’t just say—

“I said come.”

Instinct. Pure, animalistic instinct surges your orgasm forward in a high crest, breaking onto shore in hot, white waves as you tremble around him. Your cunt squeezes and tugs, your poor leg threatening collapse as Yoongi roughly hums so deep against your chest. Pleasure, starlight, the warmth of an afternoon faraway heats your body just right, and one crash leads into the next so effortlessly that tears zip down your cheeks.

Your name rips from Yoongi’s throat. 

And it’s enough to send you right over the edge again.

How the fuck is this possible how the hell can someone break you with your own name how can Yoongi have this much of a hold on you when it’s been literal years? It doesn’t make any sense and the cries into his neck as he holds you close are akin to sobs. Maybe they are. Maybe they’re your way of mourning everything that could’ve been. Everything that will never be. 

But at least you were able to have him, shaking in your grasp and pulsing in your core. One more night. One last time. 

“Fuck it, come here.” 

Your sobs are yanked from the wall again, and you don’t know up from left as you're thrown onto a sofa, back curling as Yoongi tugs your head upright. Your tears slide down your neck, wetting your necklace as he breathes out, 

“Again.” 

Fuck! Your cunt tightens around him as you gasp out, “I can’t… I can’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Yoongi growls, clutching your chin and flinging hot spit onto your face that catapults you into another level of need you’ve never been to holy fuck. Smothering it against your cheeks, he taps you once and it brings destruction. “I said again.” 

All your limbs lock at the bends as you throw your head in a strained cry, a release that overpowers all the others flushing through your veins and igniting beams out of your sweaty chest. Wave upon wave crashes into your soul and your ears ring so loud you can barely hear or see Yoongi watching from above. You can’t. You’re too caught in chaos. You can’t see the way he looks at you. 

“Come for me, Yoongi,” you suddenly plead, “Let go.”

“Let me pull—”

“Do it now,” you hitch out. “Come inside.”

A prolonged moan leaves his mouth as he launches into a pace that has you screaming, teeth gritted to hell and fingers gripping you so hard you know they’re going to bruise. But who cares when your skin will match your heart? Who gives a fuck about anything else anymore?

Beautiful weight crushes your chest as Yoongi’s body turns erratic, jolting and seizing up. And you know he’s racing to his own cliff to dive and you’re gonna be right there to catch him. Slinging your arms around his drenched back and fisting the wet base of his hair, you’re already ready and waiting with harsh harsh breaths, because you're about to break him.

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper to his ear, ravaging his slick neck with your lips and scraping teeth over his ear just how he likes, hearts beating as one when you stop just to connect your forehead to his. With a singular, throaty gasp, you plead,

“One last time.”

Yoongi’s sudden release sends a pulse through the air, and your core beats and beats with each pump of essence he spews inside. Heaven and earth collide with stars as you hold tight, and your thighs shake as he finishes filling you with the longest orgasm you have ever, ever seen him endure. 

The float down doesn’t come quick, both of you softly suspended in time and air. Steam radiates from your skin and flows from your mouths with each breath, and beads of sweat slip down his jewelry as he stares with a deep vastness in his eyes. 

Why is he so quiet? 

Why are you so quiet? 

Why do you feel like crying again? 

With one more shaken breath, Yoongi swallows, chest heaving right after as he struggles to gather himself. His shoulders are so broad when he moves under your hands, closing his eyes as soon as your brows touch,

“I know it’s over.”

Your heart flares.

“But I need you to know.”

Stars light the night sky.

“I love you. And I always will.”

A sob breaks your silence, hand flying to cup your mouth before you hunch forward into his trembling chest. Days and days of pent up anger and sadness spill out all at once, and you weep into his chest because you can’t bear to let go. 

“I know you’ve moved on,” Yoongi continues with a shake to his words, not pausing at the way you choke and weep. “But I’ve regretted never saying it back then. And I’m not gonna get another chance.”

What the fuck is happening. What does he mean? What does he mean? Your body can’t stop as it locks and locks, sobs wracking your chest because this is fucked up and confusing and everything you’ve been wanting for the longest time. This is all you wanted. And you only get it at the very end. 

“I didn’t even say goodbye,” you shake out. When you lift your trembling head, his lips are already so achingly close to yours and his hand moves to steady your neck. “I left and never came back.”

When his eyes are the only ones that speak, you start to spill everything out, words tumbling into one another and pinging to the floors around your tired feet,

“I tried so hard to forget you. Tried so, so hard to stop loving you. Every day, I’d wake up wanting nothing to do with you, only to see you in my dreams and remember how it felt to—to—” 

Bright red flares across Yoongi’s eyes as he keeps listening, jaw pulsing and brows so tense. 

“At first, I was so angry. At you, at myself, at the world for letting me love you when you never loved me back. But now, I know what I did was wrong. And I regret it every day that I live.” 

When your face contorts in sorrow, Yoongi brings a hand up to wipe your cheek, thumb brushing away your tears. “I did, babe.” Your breath stops and your eyes splay wide. “Just never had the guts to say it first.” 

First. 

Yoongi loved you all the way back then? Before that starry night that’s kept your heart captive for so long? It pulses against your chest, ramming and ramming into your ribcage to get to his. 

Only one question barrels through your mind. “…Why?”

Yoongi looks from one eye to the next. “Because I didn’t think I deserved to.”

Everything clicks into place and you suddenly feel so, so upset. You are going to fight this man to the moon and back. Or, better yet, you’re gonna fight him to the moon and leave him there. “You think I thought that way?”

“No.” He sighs, chains shaking over your chest. “And I replay that night over, and over. Knowing that I’d do anything to go back and tell you how I felt.” 

Yoongi never lived in the past. He was always adamant about staying in the present. So knowing he’d been stuck there right next to you makes your chest collapse before slipping down into the deep sea. 

“When I saw you today? Every day I told myself I’d get over you didn’t matter. Every reason I told myself I couldn’t be with you was bullshit.” 

Your throat constricts again.

“But when you kept running.. I knew you were done with me for good.” Yoongi’s hand falls. “And there was nothing I could do to change your mind.”

“Yoongi…”

All this time, you both had your own reasons for avoiding each other. Everything you fed into your logical side was just a ploy to project your feelings, and it turns out Yoongi did the exact same thing. 

He said he wouldn’t be able to hold back if you did this tonight. And now, you’re blessed to know exactly what he meant. 

So you also let everything go. 

“I was never done with you,” you choke out, seeing a swath of emotion brush across his face. “Because I’m still in love with you, and I will be even if you walk out of here without me.”

Musk and heaven consumes you in a hug, and you cry into a bare shoulder as you hear Yoongi vow something so full of longing and conviction you hold him tighter, 

“I’m not going anywhere else without you.” 

Music continues to pulse outside, lasers continue to dance around the room. But you see nothing but the light in your lover's eyes. 

And it’s a beautiful, beautiful sunrise. 

—

—

When you both finally part, it’s only to let him get dressed and for you to use the nearest restroom. In the quiet wake of your emotional storm, Yoongi walks you to the window spanning the far wall of the lounge, and you both watch the club floors move and sway from above. And it’s only now that you feel shy. It’s only now that you feel nervous seeing everyone below. 

But a thought occurs to you that dashes all others away, 

“How did you know to come up here?” 

Yoongi gives you a look that you raise a brow at. “I…” He sighs. “Let’s just say I know my way around this place.”

Ah. Of course. “Come here often?”

“Not for the reasons you think.”

Your brows are fully bent now. “…Huh?”

“I own the building.” Hands busy, he adjusts his jersey as if he didn’t drop the biggest shock of the century on your toes. “And a couple others in the city.”

What. 

Pause pause pause hold the fucking phone. 

Yoongi lives in this city? He owns what? This is a little too much to take in, but you have time. And you’re gonna hound him for every single detail of his life that you’ve missed. 

You have time. Your prayer had been answered tenfold. And you send endless gratitude to the sky. 

But suddenly, a second realization pierces your mind and you lightly shove him. When Yoongi looks at you in shock, you yell out, “You asked what’s new and I showed you a scar! Now you tell me you own a fucking building?” 

Your lover laughs, and the sun rises even higher over your horizon. Ducking your next swipe, he’s already back to irritating you again as he clarifies, “I said more than one—”

“Oh, fuck you!” 

He rushes forward and gathers you in his arms, not caring if anyone sees your embrace in the window. “You wanna go again?” 

Your face heats as your eyes roll heavenward, exactly where you feel like you are in this moment. “I have a pretty big hotel room,” you divulge. “And no one to share that bedroom with unless someone else catches my eye tonight, so…”

Yoongi’s eyes crease as he kisses your forehead. “Fuck that. Take me home.” 

Your giggles into his chin bubble out in pink, poppable spheres. 

As magnificent and dreamlike all of this has been, you're starting to find logic again. Because more than one question badgers into your mind.

How long have you been gone? Have your friends not even checked on you? Did they try? Did they leave do they even still have the... table…

Wait.

Everything else clicks into place. 

The random city everyone flew to that Jeongguk picked. The infamous club and dress code you heard about from Taehyung. The table that Hoseok bragged about getting…

“...You're the one that got us VIP.” 

That stupid, annoying, ridiculous grin. Of course this is how you'd be reminded of how much you love to hate it.

“Now come dance with me,” he says with teeth still flashing wide. “Let’s see if you ever got that step.” 

Eyes sparkling, you let him lead you down and onto the dance floor, moving through until you’re suddenly next to your friends that shout and holler at your arrival together. 

“All of you are crazy!” You yell out, tears in your smile as they burst into laughter. “Why didn’t you just tell me!”

Yoongi grabs hold of you before chuckling into your ear. “I told them not to.” 

“Why?”

“Didn’t know if you were really done.” He grips you tight, face falling into seriousness. “But I heard you broke up with someone a month ago. This was my only chance and I took it.” 

Holy fucking shit.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek with purpose. “I love you.”

Yoongi’s cheeks rise high, dimples prominent and eyes carrying the light of the universe. Lips close, he responds how he wanted to the first time.

And you seal your devotion with a kiss full of starlight. 

“Ugh, here we go.”

“Already at it again, huh.”

"Figures. Didn't you see his jersey?"

“Get another room—!”

Suddenly, the same song that used to haunt you comes on once more, but this time, you welcome it with a swell of freedom in your chest. The waves of your mind calm, washing onto an empty beach and fading into a mesmerizing valley of blue.

Yoongi grins as he holds your hand, and you can't help but stretch your mouth wide as you both immerse into the crowd, moving and spinning and stepping perfectly together on every beat. Laughter and joy fills the space between your hearts as you all cheer, sharing this infinite moment together as fate intended.  

In a beautiful, unforgettable dance. 

-

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fin :)

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hi lovelies what did we think !! | main masterlist

a/n: so don't ask how i managed to write all of this in a single day (now two) lol i think this madrid yoongi broke me. anyways, here's the sidequest that became the main quest for a bit! i'm back to writing three tangerines so 3tan13 will be finished here real soon :D thank you all for reading and i hope you enjoyed this irresistible ex turned lover yoongiiiii :DD did i cry? yes. can you prove it? no!!!!

a/n 2: as always, reblogs and comments and asks are always super appreciated! i love sharing things with you guys and a big part of that is getting to hear what you all liked and what you're excited about. happy to chat, and thank you for reading!

++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here!

Hoseok snorts, claiming the seat beside you, sliding closer in across the red leather booth, taking the champagne glass out of your hand in one smooth movement and tossing the contents onto the floor.

“No, you’re not. I’m going to ruin all the fun.”

Your eyes flicker from the mess on the floor, up to him. “Why?” You look oh so young and oh so vulnerable, sprawled there. One heel crossed over the other. Strappy, tall, and dark red, sparkling with some logo. Versace, or Dior, or whoever the fuck cares. Hoseok wonders if you bought them for yourself or if someone got them for you.

Hoseok crosses his legs too, leaning into your space, wary about being overheard. The velvet curtains of the booth dampen the sound of the music, but he still has to lean in close to your ear. Whoever took you here had good taste, but Hoseok sort of hates that he wants to know what song this is. “Because I have a strict no-sharing policy.”

Your eyes widen imperceptibly. You lean back against the cushion, tilting your body in his direction. Leaning in. It feels like validation of hoseok's worst impulses.

“With members of your pack you mean?”

“People outside of it.”

You scowl at him and try to reach for your empty glass in his hand, the movement sends you off kilter, and you wobble. Hoseok catches your shoulder. Fingers rounding over your warm skin. Expression turning surprised. You don't react to him touching you at all.

"Are you okay? You're like-"

“I’m too drunk to properly understand why you said what you just said.”

You start to tip to the side further, and Hoseok is forced to grab you by the waist, hand smoothing over the rough collection of sparkles. The boning, the restrictive corset at the back. It's so different from the usual comfy pants and large loose sweatshirts he sees you in. He didn't know you were so small underneath. Maybe it's just because hoseok spends so much time around alphas- but you look so dainty. Like a jewel in your sparkly dress. You feel hot under his touch, like you could be burning a fever. Maybe it’s just Hoseok’s imagination.

He tilts your chin up to make your eyes meet his. There’s a complete lack of clarity in your eyes, glossed over and glassy. Hoseok curses internally, the gravity of the situation settling like a shot of too strong whisky in his stomach.

How much had this alpha let you drink?

Hoseok shoves down his anger. His alpha is closer to the surface at the sweet scent of you in the air. Do you smell more heady than usual? Or is that too- just a figment of Hoseok’s imagination? His alpha fights to the surface. If people still shifted, Hoseok would have a hard time staying in his human skin.

“You’re coming with me. When and how is up to you. But you’re not leaving here alone or with anyone else.” You start to say something, but Hoseok leans in, forehead almost brushing yours. He’s probably already got glitter all over him. Hoseok wants to buy you every eyeshadow palette imaginable. Just to make sure you never have to go without it. On the booth, his hand closes over yours, squeezing your wrist gently. “Do you understand me?”

Hoseok retracts, and you sway in his absence. Hoseok settles back, waiting for you to come to him. You tilt your head at him, considering him down the end of your nose, you sit back, at your leisure, and the cockness in his smile falters.

“And what if I don’t want to go?” You look down at your phone, typing something out. Hoseok feels like you have his instincts backed into a corner.

“Then we might have a problem, because I’m not going to leave you until I know you’ve gotten home safe. And I’m assuming you don’t want me and this alpha to meet, otherwise you would have told me who this alpha is by now.”

“It’s a surprise.” You set your phone on the leather seat face down, grinning up at him.

“I hate surprises.”

Your foot nudges his knee. “And I hate how far away you’re sitting, but it looks like we both won’t get what we want.”

Hoseok’s phone dings in his pocket. He checks it reflexively. You lean your chin on your hand, red lips stretching into a drunk smile. The text is from you, of course, it’s from you. Hoseok doesn’t know why he’s surprised at all.

Her (11:14 PM): Play with me.

Hoseok is gripping his phone so hard it’s in danger of shattering in his hands. The metal flexing. He looks up at you, unimpressed. “You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

You lean, slouching, nudging the outside of his thigh with your stilettoed foot again. Giggling wildly. Several alphas nearby turn, tails metaphorically wagging at the noise. Hoseok just grits his teeth and bears it. The red bottom of your shoe flashes.

“Confusing? Are you sure that’s the word you want to use for me? Not alluring? Or Tempting? How about appetizing?”

“You’re very dangerous for my psyche.” Hoseok says honestly.

“Dangerous.” You smile at him, a real smile this time, you say it slowly like you’re tasting the word on your tongue. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me dangerous before.”

"Sure. Dangerous. Are you satisfied?"

You sigh, bratty, "It will do for now."

Hoseok isn’t thinking clearly when he takes off his jacket, moving close to you quickly enough that he sees your eyes widen, but you stay put.

“Scoot forward.”

You obey him, albeit a little dizzily. You holding around his shoulders, ass balanced on the very edge of your seat so that he can put the jacket on you. Your knees almost touch his chest, where he’s half-kneeling on the floor. Your eyes flick up from his chest to his lips and then his eyes. Too quick to be an appreciative look. Hoseok is clenching his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

A brief inappropriate image of a breeding press passes the forefront of his mind, the idea of your legs trapped between his body and yours, no where for you to go, no way for you to be stolen or get away, presses down his psyche. Hoseok knows you're thinking of it too, can see it in your visible swallow.

“Why are you tying your jacket around me so tight?" The jacket is an expensive one, and the fake fur lining of it warm even for the season. Hoseok places it around your shoulders and it's like you're surrounded by him. swathed in the scent drippy warm mangos, but something headier. Even if you weren't drunk, you doubt you could stand with it wrapping around you like this. Some hidden sensitive instinct in you screams words you're not proud of. Words you won't indulge in now.

Nest, alpha gave you nest to wear, have to nest have to- right here would be fine, right? alpha's here- he'll watch after you if you want to nest in the booth. Should you nest right? Alpha gave you such a nice jacket for it- it would be rude not to? It's so furry and soft everywhere it touches your bare skin. You're showing alot of skin, but it's still not enough. Makes you shiver- makes you want to-

Hoseok pulls the waistband tight with one rough pull. You're thankful for it, it jogs you out of your reverie, and you squeak. You don't say anything just in case your omega decides to speak for you, as you often want to do when you're drunk and nesting.

Hoseok’s nose just brushes against your hairline. You do not look to the crowd gathered; you haven’t looked away from him, not even once. When you're safely bundled in his jacket, Hoseok sets his hands on either side of you in the booth, cornering you in.

Your hand touches the breast of the jacket, your touch appreciative, and Hoseok visibly watches you shudder.

Dangerous doesn't even being to cover it.

Hoseok is once again thankful for the club’s no phones policy. His hands grip the edge until the leather dimples under his touch, warm from your body heat. Hoseok spends a breath watching the lights strobe across your face.

“So that I can do this.”

His hands jerk forward to take you by the waist, remaining as chaste as he can as he grabs you. The touch is so brief you hardly have a chance to realize what he’s doing until the world spins on its axis and he stands, draping you over his shoulder with a press up of his arms. Hardly straining under your weight. Hoseok knows scientifically that all omegas are fairly light. But you feel so delicate. Like you’re hardly there at all.

The world spins, and it has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.

“Jung Hoseok! Put me down!” You really have to yell over the sound of the music. He can't resist smiling, the sudden heaviness of the moment passing. Carrying an omega feels so good. Hoseok can't describe the reaction his instincts have to it; it's not satisfaction or purpose or fulfillment. It's something headier, something darker.

“Not a chance.”

You’d be flashing the whole bar if you weren't covered in his jacket. Even now, your chest is nearly spilling out of the hemline. Several alphas eye Hoseok up and down as you pass, he bares his teeth at them and unleashes a barely perceptible rumble.

Most of them turn tail and shrink back, but a few have gazes that linger on you in his arms, that trail him from toe to head like they're gauging an opponent. And Hoseok can’t do anything other than take you out of here as quickly as possible.

The music thumps, the world bobs with his steps as he takes you out of the bar, and the glitter you’d put on your hair falls around you like a cascade of stars. Hobi carries you and you have to close your eyes to tamp down on the nausea rolling in your stomach.

You don’t open them again until the music disappears. The sound of a few cameras clicking, a flash of light. And Hoseok’s actually growls, the sound rippling threatening. The crowd scatters where it was pressed against his car, still parked there.

You feel your stomach swirl as he very, very carefully puts you in the front seat of the very nice and very low-to-the-ground sports car. You can’t even really see the interior, but you feel the leather, warm beneath your body. Is it heated?

“There you go, nice and easy.”

Your body is limp like a doll, hair fluffing over your face until he tucks it behind your ear. Hoseok peers down at you from outside the car, hand resting on the roof. Your ankle feels uncomfortable, he reaches down, and then it doesn’t as he gently puts them into the car.

His worried look morphs into one of outright concern. “You look a little green.”

“I don’t think you should pick me up again. At least not until I vomit.” He reaches around you for the seat belt, locking it with a click. “But for the record, I like being manhandled.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok barks a laugh, closes the door, and moves around the car to the driver's seat. Only when the door is closed does he ask, “Do you think you’re actually going to vomit?”

You cringe, “Yeah, I always do. My stomach’s sensitive. It’s like an omega thing. Alcohol is really strong to-hic- us.” You try to cover your mouth, but you keep hiccupping. Hoseok would think it was cute if he weren’t so worried.

"It's okay, you just let me know, and I'll pull over." The car starts with a purr. "That sort of sucks, though."

"Yeah, I can't enjoy a fucking drink; everything has consequences for omega's." The car starts to move, and you look up, a little more clear-headed. “Where’s Taehyungie?”

Hoseok reaches around your headrest to back out, “Probably on his way home from hanging out with his friends, you can say hi in the morning."

Every few years, some politician brings up a law about banning omega-3s from being consumed with alcohol at all. And then inevitably, some asshole talks about also banning caffeine or painkillers, and the whole argument gets firmly caboshed. Hoseok has always been in the camp that ‘omegas’ should be allowed to do whatever they want, regardless of whether they have an alpha to supervise, so long as they're safe.'

But now he finds that he’s not sure what he believes.

Hoseok is a restrained driver only because he has to be. He pulls out slowly through the throng of people. Keeping his eyes on the road and not on you, slumped in his seat, looking sleepier by the second. A ticket on any of their licenses would cause a national scandal. But Hoseok does go a little bit faster, especially when you start to shiver.

He turns the heat up as high as it will go, and you curl up in his front seat, burying your face below the hemline of his jacket. At a stop sign, he fusses with the heating, pointing all of it at you. “You can fall asleep if you need to.”

That seems to be your trigger word because you suddenly seem to get a lot of energy. You start to rifle through his car, the center console, the glove compartment, an unending string of “What’s this? What’s that? Is that Namjoon’s?” Falling from your lips, each question that he answers patiently. Internally wondering if he’s the only alpha on the planet who’s ever felt thankful that they could babysit a drunk omega.

You look at him, pouting. And it takes a glance or two for him to finally sigh and ask, “What? What's wrong?”

“I feel like you’re never going to man handle me again because I said that and I’m like- totally mourning it.”

He laughs because he doesn’t know what to say. Caught off guard “You shouldn’t. I’ll just- I’ll-”

“See you’re like- never going to pick me up. You’re like really shy for a pack alpha.”

“I’m not shy, I’m controlled. There’s a difference.”

“Sureeee.” You drag out the syllable all long.

Hoseok’s teeth clench. He turns out onto the main road. There’s a reporter there. All they get is a picture of his car. Hoseok is infinitely thankful for blackout windows. “Why do you want me to pick you up so bad?”

“It’s an omega thing. Man handling. Makes us feel safe.”

“For the record, if you tell Jungkook that your feet will never touch the ground.”

“Do you think I should tell him?”

“I think you should tease him about it first. He likes to be teased.”

“Jimin teases him a lot; they also tease you.” You note an air of battiness to your tone. Hoseok wishes he didn’t love it.

Hoseok cannot keep his eyes away from looking at you. He’s glad you’re at a stoplight. It’s the only reason why he has enough control to tease you back. “You’re very pretty.” You blush, start to stammer, “See, I’m not shy.”

“You shouldn’t just say that to me, I’ll get ideas.”

“I thought we were stating facts?”

Your cheeks are cute pink splotches. “It’s just the glitter.”

“So, you did that on purpose, huh?” Hoseok doesn’t know where the sudden power to say what he wants, to flit back, comes from; maybe it’s just your scent soaking the interior of the car, drippy blackberry sweet and only barely tart, so warm and intoxicating that hoseok thinks he's going to go a little crazy for it. Hoseok's alpha is hovering skin deep.

“I like leaving my mark on the alpha’s I see, even if they won’t let me scent them because they don’t want their pack alpha’s to know they’ve seen me.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow, but before Hoseok has a chance to ask what you mean, your smile falls and the flush drains from your face. You paw at the door, panicked.

Hoseok pulls off the side of the road as quick as he can. He narrowly manages to get around his car to open the door and unclick your seatbelt for you before you lean as far away from him as you can and empty your stomach onto the concrete.

Hoseok holds your hair back from your face. “It’s okay. Really. You’re gonna be okay.” He finds himself repeating. voice dropping into a soothing croon. Your body is so limp that he's practically holding up your head. By the time you're finished your whole body is trembling like a leaf and Hoseok just feels bad for you instead of feeling any disgust at all.

Hoseok actually is going to hunt down that alpha and give them a peice of his mind. You hold onto his hip to keep yourself from slipping out of the car and under your palm. His whole body burns.

It's so not the time for him to get turned on; he stands as far away from you as he can. But your thumb cups his hip, a scarce three inches from his fly. Hoseok is only human; he can only handle an omega touching him so many places before his body reacts.

“If you think you have alcohol poisoning, you need to tell me,” he says when you sit back up. Hoseok wonders if you’re a good judge of this. If he should let you make this decision on your own. He should call a manager and have them hook you up with a hydration bag. But that runs other risks. Hoseok isn’t worried about being scolded by the company (the pack is hard to scold when it's them who pay the bills). But he’s worried about you and your reputation. He's not going to tattle tale. He can look after you well enough on his own.

You shake your head, "Omega’s can’t get alcohol poisoning. My body won't let me digest that much alcohol. Don't worry."

He gets a bottle of water from the back of the car and a wet wipe from the center console. He wipes your mouth before he lets you sip, rubbing it across your top lip, then your bottom. You lean into the touch.

Thank god he'd gotten you away from whoever that alpha was. hoseok has never even heard of an alpha being this irresponsible. He’s half tempted to look through your phone and make you block them. Any alpha who would let an omega drink so much must not have had good intentions- and was clearly intending on getting you drunk for nefarious reasons. They clearly aren’t capable of taking proper care of any omega, let alone one as precious as you.

“Here, drink this for me. That's a good omega.” Hoseok’s hands have never been steadier. feeding you a small sip before you take it from him yourself and hold it, not drinking.

When he gets back into the driver's seat, you’re already looking a little better. Your eyes are still sort of hazy, but your face is less green. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so fucked up.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s not okay. Hoseok’s alpha is pacing and barking, fighting to get out. And you can see it in his body language. The grit of his teeth and the tightness of his hands against the steering wheel.

And then, at the worst possible moment, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. And the distant music his car is still playing cuts out in place of a phone ring. Hoseok would ignore it if it were anyone but his pack. But Hoseok always picks up the phone for his packmates. He glances in his rearview mirror before he pulls away from the curb.

It’s Taehyung. Hoseok is used to his drunk calls for a ride, for FaceTime with the Wooga squad, or his other out-of-the-pack friends. Taehyung and Seokjin like to keep a big friend group outside of the pack. Namjoon has one or two art and design buddies, too. It’s hard not to feel a little bit territorial, but Hoseok regularly encourages his pack to get what they need.

Hoseok hadn’t needed to ask who he was meeting. There was no need to in the moment, and this call is not an abnormal check-in. Hoseok has had so much on his mind between moving, the comeback, and the start of the mini tour at the end of the month that one packmate escaping notice isn't really all that uncommon.

The call connects it to the car's built-in sound system before he pulls away from the curb. “Hyung,” Taehyung’s voice sounds distraught. Hoseok’s never heard him sound so close to tears. He's either about to cry or he's already been crying. Hoseok finds his voice dropping low, that comforting alpha chuff halfway between words and growl. A sound that tells his pack I’m here. I’ll handle it.

“Taehyung ah, tell me. Alpha will fix it.”

There are a lot of voices around Tae; it’s hard to hear him. “You have to promise me you won’t be angry.”

“I won’t be angry.”

Hoseok’s hearing gets better and better, honing in on Tae's words. You remain slumped in your seat, nearly nodding off against the window. Hoseok can’t help but smile fondly at you, tilting the heat in your direction.

The load of good it does him. All of Hoseok’s body goes cold with Taehyung’s next words.

“I invited y/n out with me tonight. I took her to this bar- and I went to get her a glass of water and now I can’t find her. Everyone’s saying she was literally kidnapped up by this crazy looking alpha in pj’s and- and- and-”

Hoseok breaks, and breaks hard. You jerk against your seatbelt. Mumbling something half asleep. Someone honks their horn at him. Suddenly, it all clicks into place. Your text. The mysterious ‘wrong alpha’ that you’d been texting. Hoseok mentioning that he doesn’t share, and your confused response. Your questions after Taehyungie when you'd been leaving.

Suddenly, all of that makes sense. Hoseok starts to feel even stupider than he already obviously is, which is an accomplishment. He should win the Grammy for ‘stupidest alpha on record’.

He puts his turn signal on and makes a probably illegal U-turn. “Stay where you are. Actually, go out the back door Tae.”

“But what about-”

Hoseok cuts him off. “Tae-ah, I have her.” You lean over the phone in the center console. Even though it's the car's speakers that are picking up Hobi's voice. Your sleepy slur is cute- if Hoseok wasn't still coming to terms with the situation, he'd probably find a reason to obsess over it.

“Taetae, I miss you. The cars so warm, and Alpha’s taking such good care of me, and I vomited like you said I would but it was so worth it cuz Hobi's making everything feel so nice.”

The line is silent for a second. Then, “Oh shit.”

Hoseok counts back from 7 in his head to keep his composure. “Yeah. Oh shit.”

Hoseok is not surprised to find Tae covered in glitter when he finds him at the back door of the club. Red shirt unbuttoned almost all the way to his waistband, red leather pants tight enough to show off his assets that Hoseok is only too familiar with. Cheeks tear-streaked and scent sour with leftover panic. The glitter is sort of everywhere, including his face. And Hoseok’s suspicion and anger climb higher and higher.

For what it’s worth, Taehyung seems to know better, and he instantly defaults into apology mode when he gets into the back seat. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry alpha I-” Hoseok silences him with a single look in his direction.

“There’s water. Drink it.”  

“Taetae!” you cry happily. Smile dopy, you start again. And start to try and get into the back seat, stopped by the click of your seatbelt and hoseok's hand on your shoulder. “You- stay.”

Maybe two drunk pups are more than I can handle.

“Alpha, I didn’t mean-” Taehyung starts, but Hoseok quiets him with a single long loo.

“Buckle your seatbelt.” Hoseok stares Tae down in the rearview mirror. “We can talk when we get home.”

Tae nods. You giggle, and Hoseok closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the steering wheel before he turns the car around and drives both of you home.  

~-~

When he opens the car door, you’re already reaching for him, almost tentatively. Like you think Hoseok won’t take your weight, he isn’t alive for this purpose solely. Cheeks pink and eyes half open. You're either almost asleep or black out drunk, Hoseok can’t tell the difference. “Carry me?”

Hoseok has never lifted a lighter weight, a weight that he wanted to carry more. His fingers slot against your spine, and he holds you to his chest. Your arms loop around his shoulders, completely loose and doing nothing to support your weight. “You’re so needy.” Hoseok sighs.

You’re quiet for a second. Face pressed against his skin. Hoseok should imprint the feeling of your nose against his scent gland, taking huffs of his scent to memory. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes. It’s a good thing.”

Tae stumbles out of the car, trailing behind the two of you in a zig-zag path. The bare skin of his chest and the sparkles there, catching the light. Hoseok has the image of you unbuttoning his shirt, and his blood instantly starts to boil.

Hoseok makes eye contact with him in the reflection of the elevator door.

“When we get upstairs, you’re going to drink a whole bottle of water and kneel for me in the livingroom until I come for you.”

“Hoseokie-” Hoseok shakes his head, hand smoothing over the small of your back. One hand looped under your legs, the other around your waist. Hoseok resists the urge to press his face into the crown of your head. You don’t resist at all, sniffing at his shoulder. Whining when you find it sour.

“Don’t. I don’t have to tell you how badly you fucked up today Tae-ah.”

The hush that’s fallen over the pack's apartment is audible. Namjoon and Yoongi have doubtlessly worn themselves raw in the other room. But Seokjin is awake and in the kitchen. Brushing his teeth at the kitchen sink because from the sound of it- someone's showering.

His eyes go comically wide when Hoseok bursts through the door. Princess carrying you through it, mindful of your head and your shoes. Hoseok accidentally kicks a cardboard box, half full with kitchen supplies. It makes a clatter that doubtlessly wakes up half the pack.

If it didn’t, Taehyung knocking into the door face-first would do it.

“Ow!”

You wake up a little, lifting your head from where you’ve buried it in Hobi's chest. “Why’s it hiccup noisy?”

“Oh my fucking god-”

“Don’t even say it,” Hoseok says to Jin, walking to his bedroom with you before anyone gets in his way. Hoseok hears the others start to wake up. The shower cuts out. Yoongi is saying something to Namjoon in the other room. He internally wishes for the future, where the pack house will be large enough that the sounds of each other never disturb his pack again. Soon.

Seokjin follows both of you into his room. Hoseok’s room is already half packed, boxes piled up against the wall. He places you gently against his pillows without a second thought. “What’s she doing here? Why is she passed out? What’s going on?”

“Jinnie~” you turn your head, tone trailing off into a giggle. “Why are you sideways?” Hoseok can see it in real time- Jin realizing how fucked up you are.

“Taehyung went looking for a little trouble.” He slides your shoes off your feet. Undoing the buckle. You place your foot against his chest, giggling and pushing against his tummy. He catches you around your ankle. Thumb and forefinger closing around the joint.

“Your hands feel nice, alpha.” Hoseok rolls his eyes and swallows, mouth flooded with saliva. He places your foot gently back against the bed. sliding his open palm up your shin as Jin starts to take Hoseok's jacket off of you. Eyes flicking down to the glittery dress appreciatively. you whine, hands fisting in the material. But Jin just leans over you, chin brushing the top of your head to gently detangle your fingers from where they've fisted in the fur lining.

“Behave pup.” Your hands leave the coat, and Hoseok feels like something is slipping past him again, as he so often does in your presence.

“No. I don’t wanna.”

“Jesus.” Jin rubs a hand across his face.

Hoseok resists the urge to whine, “I know.”

“Am I a little trouble?” Your eyes are closed, but you can’t seem to stop laughing. The words halfway between one giggle and the other.

Hoseok doesn’t let his hands linger on you for too long. “You’re not in any trouble at all. Taehyungie on the other hand-”

From the other room, Tae shouts, still a little drunk. “I’m kneeling now! You don’t have to badmouth me!”

A shadow falls across your body, and your eyes open, staring into the doorway. Hoseok follows your line of sight. “Yoonie!”

Yoongi cuts through the darkness, hand on the small of Hoseok’s back, steadying. He looks rough, with hickey marks from Namjoon that the makeup Noonas will side eye in the morning, already darkening on his throat and down his collar bones. But his eyes are clear, his look quiet and supportive in a way that makes Hobi want to sag against him as he stands there, waiting to be ordered around.

“I need you to watch her for me. She drank a lot. Tell me if she vomits again.”

“Bleh~” you squeak, giggling again as you mock vomit. Apparently very endeared by your own goofiness. Hand fluttering in front of your face.

Jin catches it. Squeezing it once before he tries to feed you a glass of water, straw pressed to your lips. The corner of his eyes wrinkles affectionately with his smile. “At least you’re a cute drunk.”

“No, I’m not~” you mouth the straw, and something low in Hoseok’s belly twists.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m-”

Hoseok yanks you to the edge of the bed, and you squeak. Your cheeks go a little pinker. And they almost flinch at the sudden smell of slick coating the air. Hoseok is rougher than he means to be. Pulling a pair of his pajama pants up your legs. He holds his breath, doing his best not to touch you too much or to let his touch wander.

This is his worst nightmare. His worst idea of a good time. You misinterpret his touch, the way his fingers skim your waist. Tying the string of them tight. Knuckles brushing your stomach. You reach up and cup his cheek, palm sliding down his throat before anyone can tell you not to.

Hoseok can't really be blamed for the way his alpha reacts to such a blatant touch to his scent gland.

He can tell his scent is going crazy, he can tell he's being too rough, too dominant, acting too much like your alpha, and not just an alpha you know, taking care of you in a vulnerable position. Really- any alpha would rescue and omega in distress like this.

Hoseok takes both of your wrists and pins them to the bed.

“You’re a handsy little thing, aren’t you?” You squirm, trying to get closer to him, but Hoseok keeps you there. But you can’t move an inch, grinning up at him. His actions promote a fresh wave of giggles, and looking down at you, Hoseok realizes that you truly don't know the kind of danger you're in.

A warm palm presses to the small of Hoseok’s back. Yoongi. He doesn’t have to say anything. Doesn't have to tell him that he's on the line or just crossing it. Hoseok quickly gets control back over his alpha. Neither Jin nor Yoongi remarks upon Hoseok’s slip-up. He's sort of domming you- sort of letting his alpha meet your omega. Because acting instinctively with someone who isn't in the pack wouldn't be appropriate. He presses your wrists into the bed one final time and then lets you go. Leaving you there sprawled in his bed.

You clearly take this the wrong way, sniffling. You sit up when Hoseok leans back, like you can tell he’s about to leave.

Your lower lip starts to wobble, and Seokjin very clearly starts to look for something (probably a stuffed animal) to soothe your whining. Yoongi just sighs, and starts to gently take the pins from your hair. careful not to let them get tangled. As Seokjin hands Hoseok a big shirt of his to put over your dress, now bunched up around your waist.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?”

Hoseok guides your arms through a big shirt of his and Yoongi pulls your hair free of the collar. He's gentler than Hobi, or maybe just less addled by your scent (seriously it's getting under Hoseok's skin in every way possible) he combs your hair back from your flushed face, before plucking a hair tie off his own wrist to tie it up. Sending a cascade of sparkles in his wake. Hoseok’s whole bed is going to be covered with them by the end of the night.

“Because I got all dolled up for Hoseokie and he doesn’t even like me.” Hoseok barks a laugh, grabbing your face by your chin.

He always finds himself wanting to do that. Something about grabbing your mouth, setting his fingers under your jaw where your scent is, as close to a scenting as he lets himself get. His fingertips rub over the ball of your joint, and Hoseok knows what he looks like- an alpha with his teeth bared, an omega just nearly in his grasp. It's only Yoongi's heavy look over his shoulder that keeps him from doing something really, really stupid. 

“You’re drunk, and for the record, me liking you isn’t the problem.”

Hoseok sets you back against the bed. This time you stay put, arms over your head, sprawling. Clearly getting comfortable, like you have no intention of leaving- not that Hoseok would ever let you.

“Can I at least have a good night kiss?”

“No.” Seokjin covers his face with his hands. Yoongi sits on the edge of Hoseok's bed. Your hand is on Yoongi's thigh, not high up, but still there. Like you're telling him that if Hoseok has to leave, he'd better not.

“Just on the forehead?”

“Absolutely not.”

You whine and roll closer to Yoongi, looking over your shoulder to pout at him. Yoongi looks like he’s short-circuiting. Putting together just how drunk you are. “You’re not my favorite anymore,”

“And you are not sober enough for this conversation or to be asking for these things. Be good. Listen to Yoongi and Jinnie.”

You nod, and thankfully, Hoseok hopes you won’t remember any of this in the morning. He doubts you will. As Hoseok leaves the room, he hears Yoongi say something about taking off your makeup. It takes a second for him to steady himself. Hoseok stands there, eyes closed, gripping the doorframe hard enough that it creeks under his touch, before he enters through the archway into the living room.

Taehyung on his knees is a sight to see. Maybe because the alpha is very clearly gnashing his teeth against his instincts, teeth gritted, the same way he always is whenever he submits to Hoseok. His instincts and his desire to be a good pup are constantly at war with each other, and it's Hoseok's job to make sure the proper side wins out. Taehyung has always needed a rougher hand than the rest.

Jimin is sprawled in a nearby chair, creamy silk robe covering his near-nakedness. Hair wet, waiting, clearly fixated on his kneeling submissive. Ownership is not anything they take lightly, but Taehyung has always belonged to Jimin in a secret, special way. However, both of them belong to Hoseok too, both of them are his to torment and spoil in equal measure.

Jimin's clearly not intending to move for the duration of Taehyung’s punishment, and Hoseok would never ask him to leave. But his eyes keep flickering up to Hoseok's bedroom, and his attention is divided. He must know you're inside. Must not have come to see you for some reason.

All of the unknowns hover, the details just slightly out of reach. Hoseok's heart is hammering so fast, his hands are visibly shaky in a way they usually aren't. Something is wrong. He just can't figure it out quite yet.

Jimin taps his fingers against the arm of the chair impatiently, like Taehung’s lack of recalcitrance is wasting his time. He eyes Taehyung’s predicament like it’s hardly interesting. The generous swell between his thighs tempting, but only a distraction to the punishment obviously underway. Hardly worth remarking upon. Taehyung likes to submit to more than one packmate at a time. It helps him feel safe and looked after.

Hoseok pauses a step away from him. Just far enough to piss Taehyung off. He tries to shuffle closer, still in his undone shirt and leather pants, but his face is clean of makeup. Hoseok’s willing to bet it was Jimin who tended to him, listening just out of earshot. Taehyung sways, but comes no closer, but his false obedience won’t do him any good.

Hoseok grabs him by the hair with little preamble. Yanking as hard as he can. Taehyung keens and it’s music to Hoseok’s ears. His hands slide from where they were, kept obediently behind his back. For a second, he almost reaches out to touch Hoseok, and then clearly thinks better of it at the last second. The sound melts into a moan, his thick dark eyelashes fluttering. Hoseok holds him so that his neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle. Miles of skin around his throat bare for the taking.

With his other hand, Hoseok traces down a vein, all the way to Taehyung's Adam's apple. He feels the rumble of a growl underneath his fingertips and laughs.

“You don’t even have anything to say to me, do you pup? You know you’re in too much trouble for words.”

Tae is already breathing heavy when he looks up at Hobi through his lashes. And Hoseok’s touch goes gentler, petting through Tae's hair, grip tightening occasionally. Keeping Tae on edge.

"May I speak alpha?"

Hoseok lets the silence hover for a second. "You may.”

“I would like to say for the record, that I was getting her water when you found her. That I tried to get her not to drink so much. But she started texting you and then started downing shots. I know what you’ve said about letting omegas make their own choices for themselves, So I didn’t get in the way of that because of your rules.”

Hoseok boils, anger taken out of his reasoning but not out of his body. “That doesn’t change what happened.” Hoseok’s finger jabs in the direction of his bedroom. “She is in danger Tae. You didn’t see the way they were looking at her- you left her to the wolves. If anyone had gotten to her before me-” Hoseok swallows back his terror, rubbing a hand over his face. Jimin’s body turns, almost getting up and out of the chair. “Your intention doesn’t change anything. You didn't tell me who you were seeing either.”

Taehyung scoffs. "You never ask me who I'm going to see."

"She's different. You know that. This is dishonesty by omission. You know this is the kind of information you should tell me."  

“You said you wouldn’t get mad.”

Hoseok closes his eyes. “This was bad Tae.”

Tae squirms. Hoseok’s alpha recognizes it for what it is: defiance. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on Tae's temple. Hoseok wants to lap at it.

“You’re doing one thing and saying another. I can’t be respectful of her choices and guide her at the same time. Make up your mind and we’ll follow suit.” Taehyung is still the picture of submission, but his words are anything but. He cocks his head up at Hoseok, and he’s asking for a knotting, really, with the way he smiles.

Hoseok won’t make it gentle because Taehyung doesn’t like gentle. Not when their instincts are like this; rabid dogs without a bone to chew on. “You know, I’d never have let her do any of if you just took what’s yours already.”

Hoseok goes completely still. It's eerie. In the chair, Jimin’s tapping against the armrest stops.

“What’s your safeword?”

“Yellow for slowdown. Red for stop. Green for go.”

“Can I slap you?”

Taehyung laughs at him, “you want me to say please?”

The slap cracks across Taehyung’s cheek, loud. He loses another moan, his cheek red, the surprise so delicious that Hoseok can smell how much Tae likes it in his scent. He’s already hard between his legs. It's obscene the way that Tae's big, useless cock strains the fabric; Hoseok almost thinks he can see it twitch.

Hoseok doesn’t let the touch stew for long before he’s stepping up close enough that his calf brushes against that hardness, a little too hard, it must hurt- but Tae loves the pain, sags closer to Hoseok, hands wrapping around his leg, panting through it.

“Alpha- alpha please-”

“Please what?”

“Please hurt me. I need it.” Taehyung’s tone is wet now; he doesn’t like making Hoseok angry. This is new and uncharted territory for the pack- courting an omega is something that none of them had expected to do any time soon. Not until you.

It's overwhelming in a good way most of the time. But on top of this, Between their straight-up career trajectory and the general maintenance that remaining relevant necessitates, it's no wonder that this- something Taehyung wanted but could be out of reach- pushed him over the edge.

Hoseok wants to believe that all he'd have had to do is ask Hoseok, pretty please, can I take your omega out for a night of dancing? But they both know Hoseok would never have agreed. You might be asleep in Hoseok's bed, you might wear his furs and his scent, but you're not the pack's omega. You're not Hoseok's omega, not yet.

It doesn't matter that you're clearly interested in them, the flirting. The banter. The pawing. You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you don't know what you'd be giving up, being theirs.

Hoseok can't think straight with your scent in the air, Sleeping. Hoseok can tell that you're near sleep in the other room. You smell so heady and sweet that it's making his brain go a little haywire. Conjuring up fantasies that Hoseok wants to indulge.

Deep down, Hoseok would want courting you to be perfect. Maybe with a trip abroad to show you just exactly the kind of lifestyle they could provide. Glitz and an appropriate amount of glamor. Hoseok is a gentleman and wouldn't take complete control over your life instantly. The boundary of your life and their life would get pushed little by little. Bit by bit, Kiss by kiss, and bite by bite.

First your schedule. Hoseok imagines it. How would he justify it if you told him that no- omegas don't need a steadying hand? Alpha wants you to eat this at exactly 3pm, not one bite more and not one bite less. would you turn on your location? I promise not to watch you too much- It's just incase something happens."

Then your apartment. you're so far away from us there, can one of us sleep over each night? Just to keep you safe. I'm not keeping an eye on you- I promise. I just get worried when you're not here.

Then, finally, you- all under his direction.

You're not sleeping enough, one more hour, sweetling. you can suck on alpha's neck if you need something to soothe you to go back to sleep. don't be shy about it pup- here you go. Ah ah ah- that's not for little omega's like you- let alpha do it. I know you said you wanted to go alone, but won't that make you overwhelmed? Alpha wants you to wear his scent. This will only take a second, just open wide for me. You're not wearing your collar; it's okay, i'm not mad. just when you're not at home.

I know it's a lot, I know you're overstimulated, but omegas are supposed to cum so much. It's healthy for you, you can handle it. I'd never do anything to hurt you. If you need to safeword, you can. Alpha won't be mad.

Hoseok would love nothing more than to take the weight of every little decision off your shoulders. Even the more intimate decisions.

He imagines the love, too, first kisses and first dates. Having you at the pack house all the time not just at work. Fuck- even the idea of commuting with you is sort of a fantasy. He imagines a collection of one-on-one outings, building up slowly from just kisses and makeouts to helping you through your heat.

Not this- anything but this. Anything but you vomiting on the side of the road and passing out in Hoseok's arms. You black out drunk, whining and reaching for an alpha to steady you.

Once again, Hoseok is thankful that he'd gotten to you before any other alpha had. Omegas aren't meant to be alone, on their own, without a pack like you are. And at least for tonight, you won't be.

hoseok knows how he wanted this to go. so does taehyung. and there's nothing he hates more than disappointing his pack alpha.

Tae has always liked things that hurt him. Wanting you, and yet fearing living up to your expectations is no different. Hoseok protects his pack from all hurts emotional or otherwise. Hoseok's pups so rarely seek out punishments like this. When Hoseok's got him on his knees like this, there is nothing in Hoseok's chest beyond the desire to give his pack what they need.  

Maybe the idea of being the only one to court you was just too much for Taehyung. Hoseok imagines how it must have happened. He finds out later from Tae. How you'd messaged his private Instagram story the last time he went out. Asking what bar it was that played such good music.

Tae eagerly telling you the name and that you should go. Your confession that you didn't feel comfortable going out without an alpha escort, which had led to more confessions that you feel cooped up every weekend, as omegas often need to be careful. Tae volunteered to go with you to keep you safe.

Her (8:00pm): Are you sure Hoseokie won't mind?

TaeTae (8:07pm): He won't so long as it's you ;) I hang out with people outside the pack all the time. He's not like- our jailer.

TaeTae (8:07pm): I mean, granted, they're not as cute as you

TaeTae (8:07pm): So, he might get jealous

Her (8:16 pm): so long as he won't mind....

Her (8:16pm): I've never been to a club with a dress code. Can you help me pick what to wear?

TaeTae (8:17pm): better, how about I send you something?

Her (8:17pm): so long as you don't go overboard.

Then a picture a few days later. Boxes piled high in your doorway. Flowers too.

Her (9:25pm): I told you not to go overboard. There are so many, I still don't know what to pick.

Her (9:59): Can you help me choose alpha?

Hoseok laughs, mean. The tension in Tae's spine crumples just a little. He continues to shuffle forward. Begging for any touch, cruel or careful. His cock rubs up against Hoseok's shin. Once unintentional, twice is rutting.

The next slap makes Tae lose a dry sob,

"Green, thank you alpha, green."

“You think I’m going to touch your knot with how you’ve acted?” Taehyung wiggles against Hoseok’s hold, but not for long. Hoseok loses another slap, this time, Hoseok can feel Tae's cock twitch against where it’s pressed against his calf. Hoseok palms Tae blatantly. It's fun to see him prepare for another slap and not get it, to flinch and shutter when hoseok reaches past, where his shirt is open, palming him blatantly. Fingers brushing nipple on his way past. 

“My little alpha, my little guard dog needs a bit more instruction.” Taehyung pushes into Hoseok’s touch. Face first into Hoseok's lap. nuzzling and whining like he really is a dog. He doesn't protest at being called that. They all know he's Hoseok’s perfect alpha. One of a set. Hoseok’s perfect pack.

“Tell me what you need,.

Taehyung’s eyes are luminous, on his knees, his pretty face tilted up to Hoseok; he is the picture of utter devotion. It's the last semi coherent sentence he says for the rest of the night. After it- he doesn't need his words because Hoseok is his voice, all the way down to his tongue and throat.

"Tell me what your instincts are saying to you, if you know mine so clearly. Go on- tell alpha.”

Taehyung licks his lips, cheek pressed flush to the matching bulge in Hoseok's pants. But Tae isn't looking at him or it, he's looking at Hoseok's bedroom door, wide open. The darkness sweet and tempting.

“To sink my teeth in and never let go.”

~-~

You come out only once through the night.

You hover at the door, shaky, wobbling so bad that Yoongi lingers behind and holds out his hands in case you fall. Hoseok’s clothes look so big on you, the pants so long that you’re in danger of tripping if you take another step. Jimin stirs from the opposite chair. Their late-night conversation- about the weather, about a photoshoot, about a possible collaboration track that inevitably falls through in a few short weeks- falls silent.

They do everything but talk about Taehyung, still clothed but reasonably debauched. Shirt pushed down to his elbows, pants unbuttoned and unzipped all the way. His popped knot out and pressed hot between the floor, the zipper of his pants, and the sole of Hoseok’s foot.

The two of them pay Taehyung no mind, not even when Tae garbles around the cock in his mouth, tongue pressed to the hot furl of Hoseok’s knot. Not even when he whines as Hoseok nudges the head of his cock against the back of his throat. Almost forcing his knot passed Tae's lips. The threat of a mouth knotting is there.

Hoseok looks over the back of the couch at you. His hand goes between his thighs, tugging Taehyung’s head closer to the base of his cock to keep him there and keep him from pulling off in the panic of being seen.

He’s been doing so well, warming Hoseok’s cock for the better part of the last hour with hardly a complaint. He's hardly pushed off for breath or wiped the spit from his chin, dripping into a small puddle on the floor, joining the mess of Taehyung's latest orgasm. Taehyung’s throat is so well-trained that he doesn’t even gag anymore.

Tae's hands grip the fabric of Hoseok’s pants hard. His eyes are watery, going cross-eyed with how he has to look at Hobi. Hoseok pays him little mind. He’s started to sag against Hoseok’s leg for support, his body too tired to stay up. You can’t see Tae from your angle. But Tae panics regardless.

Between his legs, his swollen and red cock bobs, getting wet again at the tip. Hoseok drives his heel into the head of it, bare foot arching against it when Tae dares to rut forward. Hoseok yanks his hair in warning.

Your eyes are clearer than before, but you still sway in the doorway. Biting your lower lip. “Alpha won’t me mad.” Yoongi croons from behind you. Rubbing at your spine, keeping you from shrinking back and hiding.

Hoseok watches you. Petting through Tae's hair. taehyung hardly reacts to it.

Taehyung hasn’t really been here since Hoseok made him cum from a bit of cock slapping (Taehyung’s preferred punishment). It took a lot out of both of them, but now Hoseok’s instincts have quieted to a slow hum in his head. Taehyung's eyes go cross-eyed as Hoseok’s cock hits the back of his throat again. Letting out a quiet choke. Keeping the pack alpha’s cum safe in his tummy.

You take another step forward, and your eyes flicker down, widening just a little. You can see Taehyung. Taehyung can see you. Hoseok watches, waits to see what you’ll do. When you’ve been silent for maybe ten seconds. Hoseok finally asks. “Yes, Omega?”

Your cheeks flush, and you look away from Tae and up to Hoseok. “I threw up again. I want cake to make me feel better.”

Hoseok barks a laugh, and it breaks into a sigh as he pets gently through Tae’s hair. Hoseok watches your eyes flicker down to his head. Then back up to Hoseok’s face again. Behind you, Seokjin hangs up your sparkly red dress. You must be bare under his clothes. Suddenly, the idea of nothing between your body and his scent, you and his touch, is all-consuming.

Hoseok can tell that his scent is growing headier by the moment. Taehyung takes his cock just a little bit deeper just to get his nose pressed against Hoseok’s happy trail, sniffing eagerly.

“You can have a bit of rice and vegetables. But nothing too spicy or sweet for your stomach.”

Your hands fist in the hem of his sleepshirt, like you need something to hold onto to steady yourself. “But- but-” Hoseok understands why alphas often deny their omega's requests because it's so cute. You begging. Hoseok wants to see more of it.

Yoongi’s hand wraps around your stomach, nuzzling into the nape of your neck. The touch makes you shiver audibly. Jimin’s smile is catlike as he watches you and Taehyungie and says nothing. All of them know how much they both like it. Yoongi and Tae have different needs. Taehyung likes being watched and ignored during scenes like this. To be toyed with and taken carefully apart and put back togeather later

But Yoongi's preferences are much more subtle.

Yoongi likes to control everything that comes into his lovers' bodies. a cock, food, water. it doesn't matter. But most of the time What they eat and how they eat it is an easy outlet for him.

It's not quite federism, because it's not really about the food itself exactly, but it is about the control. It pleases Yoongi's instincts that he gets to decide something so basic for the rest of the pack. Of course, it's up to the alphas how much you'll eat. Of course something like that- can't be left up to a little omega like yourself. It's only natural that they would take that burden off your plate. You might ask for things, might say what you want, but in the end, everything is up to them.

Should be up to them. Hoseok corrects his inner monologue, his alpha whispering in his ear, begging Hoseok to just take and take and take.

Yoongi rubs a careful circle over your hip and stomach. Like he can already feel his good intentions inside of you, keeping you warm, healthy, and safe.

You don't spy the glint in Yoongi's eye as he presses close to you on his way past and promises. “I’ll make it yummy for you. I promise you'll enjoy it. I'm a really really good cook.”

You resist only a little more, face downturned, Yoongi’s fingers roll once against your stomach and then again before he leaves you there- it's not for long, Seokjin takes his place, gently detangling your hands and leading you back to the room with both wrists held. You really do look overly small standing there. You look too tired to fight, like it’s been worn out of you.

Hoseok looks at you and feels hungry for something else entirely. You glance up at him, and Hoseok guides Taehyung's head into a slow bob. fucking his cock in and out of Tae's throat but not his mouth. The squeeze of Taehyung's breath is warm and wet and heavenly even as he chokes.

“So long as it’s yummy…” You let Seokjin gently pull you back into the room and back to bed. Murmuring softly about how good of a pup you are for listening, how obedient.

Between Hoseok’s legs, Taehyung makes a noise, eyes rolling back in his skull. Joseok lets go of his head on instinct. When Hoseok picks up his foot, he finds that Tae has come again, adding to the mess on the floor in thick ropes of white.   

~-~

After Taehyung is whisked away into a bedroom for some much-needed sleep and aftercare, wobbly and spacing out under Jimin’s patient touch. Hoseok is finally allowed to return to where he’s needed most.

Hoseok isn’t worried about him at all. Today is forgiven after a punishment, and Tae rarely ever feels any guilt at all after a punishment has been completed; he’s not like Jungkookie or Namjoon, whose brains cling to shame even in the aftermath of a scene. Jimin honestly enjoys aftercare more than regular sex sometimes, something about beta instincts that Hoseok doesn’t understand and yet indulges. He's happy to allow Jimin that tonight.

Seokjin is already sitting in the corner of the room, mouth pressed against the back of his hand as he watches you sleep in the darkness. He makes a soft noise when Hoseok comes to the door. Titling his face up for a kiss. “I’ll watch her. Go to sleep.”

Seokjin’s eyes flicker from Hoseok’s face to his body, almost trembling. Hoseok knows he’s gauging how close his alpha is to taking control. His slip-up earlier was not forgotten. Hoseok hates that he’s wondering if it's safe to leave Hoseok with you.

Hoseok’s alpha is too close to the surface tonight, if you wake up and try to brat out like earlier- Hoseok could lose control. But you being asleep in his bed is fairly pleasing to his instincts. A sleeping omega is exactly what Hoseok’s alpha needs. Someone to guard. Someone to watch until the hammer of his pulse quiets down.

Seokjin says nothing as he gets up. They swap places, and when Seokjin gets to the doorway, he glances back, but Hoseok is already fixated on your sleeping form. Chest rising softly. The spill of your hair over his sheets, the tantalizing temptation that is your open hand, palm up against the sky.  

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Yoongi hyung. I think you should leave the door open. Okay?”

"Okay." Hoseok parrots quietly. Hardly blinking. Gaze fixated on you.

Hoseok has never been offered the pleasure of watching an omega sleep in a bed. A nest is different, a nest is special in a way that a bed isn’t. That's where you're most vulnerable, but here. You look so peaceful. So unaware.

You look so small in his clothes. Curled on top of the covers. A thick duvet pushed down to your knees. Your arm under one pillow, cuddling into it.

Omegas move around a lot in sleep.

Hoseok has never seen it in person (these kinds of searches are reserved for pups barely past presentation age, instincts still grating enough to look up nesthub on the internet). You’re not a stationary sleeper. Most omegas sleep nest around their heats, but you must do it all the time. It’s natural how easily the bed parts around your body, the fabric moving to cradle you, a nest made almost instinctually.

Your knees push the blankets apart, your arms tangle with what’s in front of you, face brushing the sheets in a nuzzle, belly down in Hoseok’s bed, making it a nest. The pillow is quickly rejected after a few minutes. Unsatisfied. You let out a sleepy sound, and Hoseok is sure you're completely asleep- just sleep nesting- as you continue searching for something.

You let out a needy whimper, lower lip wobbling in sleep, unsettled, body trembling.

Hoseok lifts himself from your bedside, desperately trying to find some way to soothe you. The way you nose, forehead and face rub against his blankets. Increasingly roughly. Needy, desperate nose-first nuzzling in his sheets, looking for something specific, something you need.

Hoseok's jacket is hanging on the door of his closet. Hoseok couldn't tell you why he takes it. Why he know that's what you're looking for. Even though you wore it outside, he knows you won't settle until you have it close. He's guided by nothing but instinct as he places it over your body. You melt underneath it. Lips parting where they smack in a sleepy sigh.

Hoseok watches mesmerized as you slowly roll in it, getting it under your body, transforming it into the base of your nest.

Your body goes boneless when it's finally right, fingers tangling in the soft furry interior, clutching it like you’re worried someone will take it from you. Whatever sourness to your scent immediately dissipates. You rub your face into it and promptly go back to sleep. Hoseok sits back in the chair for the rest of the night. One leg crossed over the other, face balanced on one hand.

He doesn’t even fucking blink.

~-~

When Hoseok wakes in the morning, you’re already gone.

You slipped out the door sometime after he fell asleep and before sunrise. There’s no text on his phone. No handwritten note in the kitchen. Even though he texts you the second he wakes to make sure you got home alright, it goes unanswered. He paces the length of the apartment. Searching every bedroom for you until it's clear you're not here, you're just gone.

You've left them without a word.

Hoseok can’t go into his bedroom without being inundated by you, your scent soaking the whole space, and fuck, it’s terrible that they’re literally moving in the next few days; Hoseok’s bedroom has already been packed away, mostly dismantled. Otherwise, he might be tempted to make it into something of a shrine.

Your dress is still hanging on the back of the door. Hoseok won't pretend he doesn’t press his face into it and scent it. The clothes you wore to bed and his jacket are suspiciously missing. Hoseok guesses you used it to cover up on your way out. He doesn’t text you about it at all. But everyone else does. Taehyung even apologizes, but You don’t respond to any of them.

Hoseok messages you himself.

Alpha (7:00 AM): At least tell me you got back safe

Alpha (7:00 AM): And didn’t like- pass out at home.

Alpha (7:00 AM): I’m trying to be a gentleman about it, but I’m sort of going crazy here.

You finally text him back that evening. Hoseok guesses you probably slept off your hangover, and that’s why you were so slow to respond.

Her (5:21 PM): You’re a big baby, aren’t you?

Alpha (5:21 PM): A bigger baby than Jungkookie.

Alpha (5:21 PM): Are you alright?

Her (5:23 PM): Yeah...

Her (5:23 PM): I mean, I might never sleep off the shame, but I’ll be fine so long as you don’t hate me.

Alpha (5:23 PM): You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not for that. Not with me.

Alpha (5:23 PM): I could never hate you.

But instead of any more teasing, the message stays left unread. Hoseok never gets another message back. That night, before he goes to sleep, continuing to pack up the pack’s apartment, Hoseok lingers over the glass that you left on his bedside table, the mess of his bed, the divot where you lay just last night, he touches the spot where you slept, fingers imagining the curve of your body, the bed long gone cold.

He touches the straw where your lips touched, sighs, and closes his eyes. Lingering for just another moment before he throws it away.

~-~

You don’t come back to work for the next three weeks. Well, two weeks and 3 days technically. It’s not like Hoseok’s counting.

It's long enough that everyone is on edge by the time you return. Any pictures taken of you and Taehyungie at the club, or you and Hoseok leaving, are quietly bought, paid for, and buried. They never even hit the media with how quickly Hoseok tamps down on them. Your privacy and reputation remain intact for now.

You have the option for long-term medical leave as a part of your contract, but that still doesn’t make it any easier. But when you do come back, you act like nothing’s wrong, falling back into place as if nothing happened. And the pack can’t help but act normal out of pure worry that bringing it up would push you away.

They don’t bring up the drinking or what you saw. They don’t bring up any of it again, not for a long, long time.

Heats have the habit of hitting at the most inopportune times.

You’d barely made it home before you were leaking slick down your thighs, staining Hoseok’s pj’s and his jacket, messing them, ruining them beyond repair.

Heats always leave you feeling unmoored, days of dizziness and half-there feelings. Phantom alphas and phantom hands that touch your jaw, cup your cheek, hold your ankles, and press your wrists to the bed. Memories that tangle with reality and leave nothing more than fire in their wake. You can’t keep track of the hours or minutes, if you’ve eaten or slept enough. You’re hardly even sure of whether you’ve cum or not- if it’s your hands or the hands of an alpha between your legs or not.

But with this heat, there was one constant. The jacket beneath your cheek, smelling like mangos and home, protection, and safety. You’d bitten and sucked at it, used it as a gag to tamp down on your whines as waves of scalding pleasure rock through your body in unending waves. Nuzzling into it for comfort, held tight when you needed something to hold onto. You even babbled to it during the worst part of your heat fever. Endless strings of meaningless pleas for an alpha who couldn't hear them. An alpha who isn't there.

Why aren't your alphas here? Why isn't your pack here? Your omega doesn't understand it- why they've left you- why they've abandoned you so. The feeling of it scalds, loneliness and neglect claw at your chest. Makes you whine and cry and bury your face in the jacket in front of you.

You’d bitten it so hard you’d left little holes at the collar, right where it’s pressed up against Hoseok’s throat and scent gland. The rest of the jacket was too slick soaked and stained to ever dream of returning it to Hobi. You’ve hardly been able to meet his eyes since you came back. The others are a little bit easier to be around- to act like nothing’s wrong and nothing’s changed. Even though- maybe everything has.

A few times during your heat, you were lucid enough to check your phone.

Taetae (10:51 PM): I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You should know I don’t regret going out with you. You don’t have to be scared.

Jkie (4:21 am): I miss you. When does your leave end? Things aren’t the same without you here. Don’t tell him I told you, but Hoseokie tripped because he kept looking at your empty nest during practice today. He’s like- so missing you too.

Minnie: (6:01 am): They just told me you’re not here again today. If you want space, all you have to do is ask for it. It makes me crazy when you won’t respond to me.

Jinnie oppa (10:33 PM): Are you alright? They said you’re taking medical leave. Are you at your apartment? Are you sick? I can drop off soup. Or stuffed animals for your nest. Even if it’s quick. I’m not asking for a scenting. You don’t have to worry about us; just get better.

Rmmmmmmm (1:15 am): If we did something to offend you, please just know we didn’t mean it. Can I call you? Is that alright? We don't even have to talk about anything that happened.

Yoonie (5:20 PM) You left glitter all over the apartment- we almost don’t want to leave cuz it reminds us of you. You can tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.

You know alphas can be overbearing. But come on- it’s only been… 10 days.

There’s only one text from Hoseok. One in addition to the one he already left. Several days ago. Your fingers are too slick, coated, and trembling so violently that you can't type out a coherent reply.

Alpha (8:00pm): I’m sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you.

Alpha (8:00pm): I’ll tell them to leave you alone.

The texts stop after that. It's radio silence. But if only he knew that alone was the last thing you want.

~-~

You do end up going back to work. Hybe is generally generous with your leave, but you know that two and a half weeks is testing the limits. The pack acts like nothing’s changed, like you’ve only been gone for a few days (and not so long that they'd practically been at each other's throats for the littlest of things, more snapish, less patient, more disjointed than they ever are.)

They don’t say anything about the night you got drunk out with Taehyungie. You still don’t remember most of it.

You remember the inside of Hoseok’s car, how warm you felt. You remember him laughing at you and telling you you weren’t in trouble, but also feeling like you sort of were. You don’t know what you said when you were drunk- but it had to have been bad. You know you have a tendency to be a little bratty when you're drunk. It's embarrassing. That’s what you are.

You think you remember something else. But surely that part was just the beginning of your heat dreams.

Your body is so sore from your heat this time. You have to move slowly or else you get dizzy. It always leaves you aching in weird spots and nesting longer than usual. This time it's your lower back, your shoulders, and your neck- full of pinched nerves that you just can’t massage out on your own. Post-heat comes with a bone-deep exhaustion that you’ve come to associate with just being you.

Any other heat, and you would have suppressed it with medication, but this one came on so quickly, you didn't have the chance to get your proper dosage. Usually, you have days to prepare, not just an hour's notice. You usually do suppress your heat- even slightly- just to dull the symptoms and make it manageable. You've ended up in the hospital for dehydration before. The day after it ends, you do end up going to the hospital for a check-in. You'd texted your doctor that morning, and they'd fast-tracked you for an emergency appointment.

A bag of saline and nutrients later, and some gentle prying on whether or not you've found a pack yet to make these easier on you, and you'd been right as rain. Your doctor gently requested that you be admitted for a few days for observation as a 'more delicate than typical' omega- but you'd politely refused. There's still a risk of you catching a cold or some other nasty sickness, but you can handle that when it comes. This heat hadn't been that bad.

You don't have to think too far as to why.

You throw Hoseok's expensive coat, completely absent of his scent, in the washing machine, set it to sterilize, and wait. You shove it in the back of your closet when it's dry and handle the rest of your apartment. You don't like having other people come in and clean after your Heats, even though it takes you twice as long as usual, you're so tired that you crawl into your nest, mostly unmade, and just sleep right there with the lights still on.

In the middle of the night, after tossing and turning for a few hours. You take the jacket out later and put it in your nest. The fur lining is a little less soft than it was when hoseok gave it to you, and it doesn't smell like either of you anymore, but you still cling to it helplessly.

Being at work and around the alpha’s helps, but it also makes you so sleepy and zoned out. It's not the comfort of your routine- it's just them.

In Yoongi's studio and Hoseok’s practice room, your mind goes hazy. The quiet lull of their voices calms that baser part of you. Having lunch with Tae, Jungkook, and Seokjinie, their shoulders brushing yours, close enough to touch. finally. You almost fall asleep right there at the table. Had listened to Jin's quiet chuckle as he holds your hand in one of his, playing with your sleeve, the listless rub of his thumb going still when he sees the bruise on the back of your hand from your IV.

After your body spent a week wanting and being denied the safety of a familiar scent, being around them feels like pure relief. Like a drug almost.

It's almost silly that it’s you who gets paid for this.

Being surrounded by the pack’s scents is oh so comforting. Like, for the first time, that instinctual part in your head finally shuts off. You hardly last a few minutes of active scenting with any of them; not Yoongi on Monday (hands shaking when he reaches for you- obviously showing signs of scenting withdrawal).

Taehyung on Tuesday (hardly able to meet your eyes through all of it) and Namjoon (jaw suspiciously tense, as if he wanted to ask about something but couldn’t).

Jungkook on Wednesday (holding onto you a little tighter than usual, who had begged for a few more minutes, which you’d easily given it. After which he'd followed you from room to room, meeting to meeting, like a lost puppy).

Or Seokjin (who had hardly wanted you to scent him at all, had just wanted to stuff you full of food and medication, feeling your forehead with an ‘aigoo, you’re still warm’)

During a meeting earlier, you finally saw Hoseok; he’d entered the meeting room, offered you nothing but a grimace and tip of his head in your direction, and kept on as if you weren't even there. It’s just how you used to be around each other, measured. Mostly quiet. Not saying anything or indicating any feelings of an overly familiar nature.

You don’t know why it left you feeling disappointed.

And then finally at the end of the day, it’s Jimin’s turn.

You fall asleep ten minutes in with him petting your hair. Soothed by the sound of his quiet humming, not really singing. There are no more awkward looks between all of you; all of the uncomfortableness has worn away after the first two days. But when you wake an hour later, he’s not singing anymore.

He’s just talking. You can’t help the way your body stiffens, but you hope he doesn’t know that you’re awake.

“I love being around you so much. I've been trying to find a reason for it- biology- the fact that you fit in with the pack so well- Whatever it is, I don't think you can help it. Sometimes it feels like everyone wants everything from us, but you just give and give and give like it's nothing when it's really everything to me."

This recording room is quiet, and the walls are close. It feels more like a closet, honestly, but here there’s no worry of being overheard or interrupted. It feels intimate in the way that the practice room often doesn’t. It’s just you and Jimin here. His lychee scent is sweet and fruity, but with an old note of sourness too.

Oh, Jimin had missed you, hadn’t he?

Somehow, you’ve never felt safer with the beta curling against your spine, spooning you, curled up to fit in the nest. You tucked to the side, away from the door. Even if someone came in, you doubt they’d be able to see you.

Jimin speaks the words so softly against your spine you almost think you’re imagining it. You know how Jimin is, that he's deceptively cautious around new people.

“I didn’t expect to like you so much when we first met. Maybe it’s just because I’m a beta and betas aren’t supposed to need scenting, but I can't ignore it anymore. I'm sorry."

You do not stir, you hardly move. Hardly breath. You feel it, him rubbing his mouth against the crown of your head, kind of a kiss. Kind of a nuzzle.

Jimin confesses softly. He's sort of rambling, repeating himself. “I hate it when you're gone, nothing felt right while you were away. I think I'm only scared because I didn’t expect to need you this much…To want you so much. I’m sensitive. I think it made me realize you’ll hurt me if you leave. I'd give you everything you want- and I think you could break my heart if you really wanted to- So please don't want to. I need you to promise me you’re not going to disappear again.”

And then even softer, he says, “I know you’re awake.”

Your breath does not come out as easily as you want. You struggle not to immediately hide when Jimin pulls away. He’s staring down at you, curled deep in the nest, his body bent over you. You’re absolutely cornered, the air warm and balmy from your nesting.

Jimin’s eyes are dark when you look up at him, aware that your shirt is rucked up. You think you remember him pressing his palms flat against the bare skin of your tummy. One of his hands is right by your waist, the hot skin of his wrist brushing your navel, making your breath hitch. You're aware of every inch of him that's touching you, the curl of his chest along your spine, the faint trail of his nose up your ear. The way his other hand is sort of cupping your head.

After a second, you open your eyes, already glassy, already filling with tears. Your voice sounds rough, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know that Hoseok had no idea Tae and I where going out. I thought Tae would have told him- I thought- I didn't mean to fuck it up so bad. But now Hobi hates me."

"Hey, hey hey, that's not what I meant-" Jimin's hand cradles the back of your skull, and the tears roll hot down your cheeks. You've sort of felt like you needed to cry since the end of your heat. It's cathartic. Jimin watches you, alarmed. "Why do you think Hobi hates you?"

"He wasn't in his bed with me when I woke up. I got Tae in trouble, he's mad at me because I made tae disobey, and- I thought he would have…" you trail off, and you feel like your reason is flimsy, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Something's off.

Jimin leans over your body, pressing his cheek against yours. Your eyes close, but the tears keep coming. You go still at the wet feeling of it. A tongue, his tongue- brushing your cheek. You stay put while he grooms you. tongue flicking out so gently you're almost convinced you're imagining it, cleaning you of your sadness. Your lower lip wobbles, and he doesn’t say anything at all until those tears have banished themselves to his tongue.

He doesn’t speak until he pulls away. Lips wet. “Tae likes to ask for forgiveness, not permission. He didn't think you'd react that way to seeing him get punished. He feels so guilty about it that he can't even let us kiss him. Hoseok keeps telling him it's not his fault, but his instincts just won't listen." Jimin grimaces. "It didn't help that you went silent."

The hair on the back of your arms is standing on end. So you weren't imagining that- that actually happened, you actually saw. You groan into your hands. Jimin's hands dig into your waist.

"I can scent you- you know, you don't have to freak out. It's normal. Tae's hot- if there's anyone who gets it- its me."

"I'm not freaking out because of Tae- I'm freaking out because it sent me into heat you dummy."

Jimin's petting goes still. And you peek through your hands. Is his smile devilish? "Oh-" you see it dawn on him. settling over him like a chill. His smile falling, "you went through it alone? By yourself? Without anyone?" You nod, and Jimin breathes in through his teeth. "Okay, before you tell anyone. I need you to promise me that you're never going to go through one alone again."

"Jimin I-"

"It is medically unsafe for an omega to go through a heat without an alpha or beta. You won't convince me otherwise so don't even try and argue."

"Minnie, I'm fine, I go through them every time on my own, and I have barely any incidents." Jimin grits his teeth. Lifts up the back of your hand to show you the bruise from your IV.

"Barely any is not none." his lower lip pinches into a frown. "I'd say you can spend it with anyone, so long as you're not alone, but we both know how that would go."

You laugh bitterly, "Hoseok would fucking freak."

"He'd be murderous. But I think you not talking to him would be the worst part of it"

You cover your face with your hands again and groan, "It's not that I didn't want to respond, I just couldn't." Jimin tries to get your hands away from your face and this time you let him. "I'm not freaking out- it's just a lot for me to process." Jimin continues to pet over your cheeks, down the side of your face.

“I'm still looking for a promise from you.”

Jimin’s hands thread through the nape of your neck, pulling your hair a bit. It’s reminiscent of another touch, a memory pushing at your mind, a memory you’re not sure is real or that you even should remember. Tae between Hoseok’s thighs, Hoseok’s hand in his hair, keeping him close. Even if you couldn’t see what was happening, you could certainly smell it. Knees weak at the tangible note of alpha arousal in the air. 

You think they’d go crazy if they knew it had sent you into heat, or that your heat lasted a lot longer than it should have. You’re a bit embarrassed about it. You got sent into heat just from sleeping in an alpha’s bed. Took his jacket home and rutted into it like some slutty pup out of a porno. Bit into it and gnawed at it until you left holes in the collar with your blunt little omega teeth.

You turn onto your back to look up at Jimin properly. You pull down the edge of your shirt, fussing with it, and Jimin watches the movement. Tipping his head to the side. His smile Patient and waiting.

“I promise.”

Jimin sinks low, lips brushing the crown of your head. "Keep going. Use your words.”

“I promise I won’t run away again- That I won't break your heart.”

"And?"

"-And if I go into heat again, I'll call you."

"Ah ah ah~" Jimin's voice is a purr.

"I'll call you and Hobi. If I go into heat again- I'll call you, and you can help me through it." 

“That's my girl, what a good pup.”

~-~

Notes:

when her knees almost touch his chest in my mind her brain is like 'breeding press? breeding press.' like i dont know how to express to you guys how much sensual that is in the hyb verse like- it's akin to touching someones ass or something?

when i was first writing this i didn't have a clear image in my head of what the jacket looked like- but hopefully you guys don't mind too much that i made the inside of it furry. i just love how it's like- polished on the outside, primal on the inside- kind of like hoseok's whole character.

also if it's not clear the m/c is like totally trying to goad him into losing control. she's literally such a little shit while she's drunk.

i think in the future- as per their rules, hoseok is the only one who gets to decide if she's allowed to drink, like she has to ask him if she's allowed to get drunk and has strict 'just tipsy' rule that she will get punished for if she goes over.

hoseok is so blinded by how much he wants her and prioritizing her safety that he's litterally ignoring her asking about taehyung and i just- i love a dumb man, i love a man whose so in love he gets stupid. that is very much the vibe of hobi.

it's worth mentioning that the m/c is in a better place with her physical health (she's masking her symptoms with a whole lot of medication), and the fact that she's finally around enough alpha's for her immune system to thrive. which is why she seems a little bit better- hoseok also has no idea about her past at this point- we are going to see the incident that lead to her telling him- but not for a few more chapters- all i can say is /oh jungkookie/ T-T

"i'm not shy, i'm controlled" you are so full of shit alpha like so so so full of shit.

i tried to be very careful editing this- because i think that the m/c and hobi are being equally handsy with each other in this-but like i think her subtly feeling up on him could read as uncomfortable- mind you he has grabed her waist and litterally carried her against her will multiple times in this chapter- so i think that maybe she's allowed. like- they're past the point where they're going to verbally ask each other 'can i touch you' at least for this chapter. the touch barrier has been very broken

idk if anyone caught it but! yoongi called her sweetheart :( there are echos of bily in every universe i write.

i lowkey think if she hadn't gotten out of there when she did that it would have triggered hoseok's rut and then they all would have been done for and she would have been pupped before the week was out. i do think their panic of a unintended pregancy would make for some /interesting dynamics/ but alas. it remains to be seen

so face slapping during sex is actually one of my 'absolutely not under any circumstances' but there's something about taehyung that just makes me want to slap him around a bit. ESPECIALLY with how he's been since the tour started.

nesthub...i feel like ive made this joke before and i just can't remember it BUT I'M LEAVING IT HERE.

A LITTLE EASTER EGG BUT- in their text conversation any time they are far away from getting the m/c's aproval- the timestamp numbers add up to 7- any time they are getting closer to the m/c they add up to 8 cuz 8 packmates

Hoseok snorts, claiming the seat beside you, sliding closer in across the red leather booth, taking the champagne glass out of your hand in one smooth movement and tossing the contents onto the floor.

“No, you’re not. I’m going to ruin all the fun.”

Your eyes flicker from the mess on the floor, up to him. “Why?” You look oh so young and oh so vulnerable, sprawled there. One heel crossed over the other. Strappy, tall, and dark red, sparkling with some logo. Versace, or Dior, or whoever the fuck cares. Hoseok wonders if you bought them for yourself or if someone got them for you.

Hoseok crosses his legs too, leaning into your space, wary about being overheard. The velvet curtains of the booth dampen the sound of the music, but he still has to lean in close to your ear. Whoever took you here had good taste, but Hoseok sort of hates that he wants to know what song this is. “Because I have a strict no-sharing policy.”

Your eyes widen imperceptibly. You lean back against the cushion, tilting your body in his direction. Leaning in. It feels like validation of hoseok's worst impulses.

“With members of your pack you mean?”

“People outside of it.”

You scowl at him and try to reach for your empty glass in his hand, the movement sends you off kilter, and you wobble. Hoseok catches your shoulder. Fingers rounding over your warm skin. Expression turning surprised. You don't react to him touching you at all.

"Are you okay? You're like-"

“I’m too drunk to properly understand why you said what you just said.”

You start to tip to the side further, and Hoseok is forced to grab you by the waist, hand smoothing over the rough collection of sparkles. The boning, the restrictive corset at the back. It's so different from the usual comfy pants and large loose sweatshirts he sees you in. He didn't know you were so small underneath. Maybe it's just because hoseok spends so much time around alphas- but you look so dainty. Like a jewel in your sparkly dress. You feel hot under his touch, like you could be burning a fever. Maybe it’s just Hoseok’s imagination.

He tilts your chin up to make your eyes meet his. There’s a complete lack of clarity in your eyes, glossed over and glassy. Hoseok curses internally, the gravity of the situation settling like a shot of too strong whisky in his stomach.

How much had this alpha let you drink?

Hoseok shoves down his anger. His alpha is closer to the surface at the sweet scent of you in the air. Do you smell more heady than usual? Or is that too- just a figment of Hoseok’s imagination? His alpha fights to the surface. If people still shifted, Hoseok would have a hard time staying in his human skin.

“You’re coming with me. When and how is up to you. But you’re not leaving here alone or with anyone else.” You start to say something, but Hoseok leans in, forehead almost brushing yours. He’s probably already got glitter all over him. Hoseok wants to buy you every eyeshadow palette imaginable. Just to make sure you never have to go without it. On the booth, his hand closes over yours, squeezing your wrist gently. “Do you understand me?”

Hoseok retracts, and you sway in his absence. Hoseok settles back, waiting for you to come to him. You tilt your head at him, considering him down the end of your nose, you sit back, at your leisure, and the cockness in his smile falters.

“And what if I don’t want to go?” You look down at your phone, typing something out. Hoseok feels like you have his instincts backed into a corner.

“Then we might have a problem, because I’m not going to leave you until I know you’ve gotten home safe. And I’m assuming you don’t want me and this alpha to meet, otherwise you would have told me who this alpha is by now.”

“It’s a surprise.” You set your phone on the leather seat face down, grinning up at him.

“I hate surprises.”

Your foot nudges his knee. “And I hate how far away you’re sitting, but it looks like we both won’t get what we want.”

Hoseok’s phone dings in his pocket. He checks it reflexively. You lean your chin on your hand, red lips stretching into a drunk smile. The text is from you, of course, it’s from you. Hoseok doesn’t know why he’s surprised at all.

Her (11:14 PM): Play with me.

Hoseok is gripping his phone so hard it’s in danger of shattering in his hands. The metal flexing. He looks up at you, unimpressed. “You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

You lean, slouching, nudging the outside of his thigh with your stilettoed foot again. Giggling wildly. Several alphas nearby turn, tails metaphorically wagging at the noise. Hoseok just grits his teeth and bears it. The red bottom of your shoe flashes.

“Confusing? Are you sure that’s the word you want to use for me? Not alluring? Or Tempting? How about appetizing?”

“You’re very dangerous for my psyche.” Hoseok says honestly.

“Dangerous.” You smile at him, a real smile this time, you say it slowly like you’re tasting the word on your tongue. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me dangerous before.”

"Sure. Dangerous. Are you satisfied?"

You sigh, bratty, "It will do for now."

Hoseok isn’t thinking clearly when he takes off his jacket, moving close to you quickly enough that he sees your eyes widen, but you stay put.

“Scoot forward.”

You obey him, albeit a little dizzily. You holding around his shoulders, ass balanced on the very edge of your seat so that he can put the jacket on you. Your knees almost touch his chest, where he’s half-kneeling on the floor. Your eyes flick up from his chest to his lips and then his eyes. Too quick to be an appreciative look. Hoseok is clenching his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

A brief inappropriate image of a breeding press passes the forefront of his mind, the idea of your legs trapped between his body and yours, no where for you to go, no way for you to be stolen or get away, presses down his psyche. Hoseok knows you're thinking of it too, can see it in your visible swallow.

“Why are you tying your jacket around me so tight?" The jacket is an expensive one, and the fake fur lining of it warm even for the season. Hoseok places it around your shoulders and it's like you're surrounded by him. swathed in the scent drippy warm mangos, but something headier. Even if you weren't drunk, you doubt you could stand with it wrapping around you like this. Some hidden sensitive instinct in you screams words you're not proud of. Words you won't indulge in now.

Nest, alpha gave you nest to wear, have to nest have to- right here would be fine, right? alpha's here- he'll watch after you if you want to nest in the booth. Should you nest right? Alpha gave you such a nice jacket for it- it would be rude not to? It's so furry and soft everywhere it touches your bare skin. You're showing alot of skin, but it's still not enough. Makes you shiver- makes you want to-

Hoseok pulls the waistband tight with one rough pull. You're thankful for it, it jogs you out of your reverie, and you squeak. You don't say anything just in case your omega decides to speak for you, as you often want to do when you're drunk and nesting.

Hoseok’s nose just brushes against your hairline. You do not look to the crowd gathered; you haven’t looked away from him, not even once. When you're safely bundled in his jacket, Hoseok sets his hands on either side of you in the booth, cornering you in.

Your hand touches the breast of the jacket, your touch appreciative, and Hoseok visibly watches you shudder.

Dangerous doesn't even being to cover it.

Hoseok is once again thankful for the club’s no phones policy. His hands grip the edge until the leather dimples under his touch, warm from your body heat. Hoseok spends a breath watching the lights strobe across your face.

“So that I can do this.”

His hands jerk forward to take you by the waist, remaining as chaste as he can as he grabs you. The touch is so brief you hardly have a chance to realize what he’s doing until the world spins on its axis and he stands, draping you over his shoulder with a press up of his arms. Hardly straining under your weight. Hoseok knows scientifically that all omegas are fairly light. But you feel so delicate. Like you’re hardly there at all.

The world spins, and it has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.

“Jung Hoseok! Put me down!” You really have to yell over the sound of the music. He can't resist smiling, the sudden heaviness of the moment passing. Carrying an omega feels so good. Hoseok can't describe the reaction his instincts have to it; it's not satisfaction or purpose or fulfillment. It's something headier, something darker.

“Not a chance.”

You’d be flashing the whole bar if you weren't covered in his jacket. Even now, your chest is nearly spilling out of the hemline. Several alphas eye Hoseok up and down as you pass, he bares his teeth at them and unleashes a barely perceptible rumble.

Most of them turn tail and shrink back, but a few have gazes that linger on you in his arms, that trail him from toe to head like they're gauging an opponent. And Hoseok can’t do anything other than take you out of here as quickly as possible.

The music thumps, the world bobs with his steps as he takes you out of the bar, and the glitter you’d put on your hair falls around you like a cascade of stars. Hobi carries you and you have to close your eyes to tamp down on the nausea rolling in your stomach.

You don’t open them again until the music disappears. The sound of a few cameras clicking, a flash of light. And Hoseok’s actually growls, the sound rippling threatening. The crowd scatters where it was pressed against his car, still parked there.

You feel your stomach swirl as he very, very carefully puts you in the front seat of the very nice and very low-to-the-ground sports car. You can’t even really see the interior, but you feel the leather, warm beneath your body. Is it heated?

“There you go, nice and easy.”

Your body is limp like a doll, hair fluffing over your face until he tucks it behind your ear. Hoseok peers down at you from outside the car, hand resting on the roof. Your ankle feels uncomfortable, he reaches down, and then it doesn’t as he gently puts them into the car.

His worried look morphs into one of outright concern. “You look a little green.”

“I don’t think you should pick me up again. At least not until I vomit.” He reaches around you for the seat belt, locking it with a click. “But for the record, I like being manhandled.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok barks a laugh, closes the door, and moves around the car to the driver's seat. Only when the door is closed does he ask, “Do you think you’re actually going to vomit?”

You cringe, “Yeah, I always do. My stomach’s sensitive. It’s like an omega thing. Alcohol is really strong to-hic- us.” You try to cover your mouth, but you keep hiccupping. Hoseok would think it was cute if he weren’t so worried.

"It's okay, you just let me know, and I'll pull over." The car starts with a purr. "That sort of sucks, though."

"Yeah, I can't enjoy a fucking drink; everything has consequences for omega's." The car starts to move, and you look up, a little more clear-headed. “Where’s Taehyungie?”

Hoseok reaches around your headrest to back out, “Probably on his way home from hanging out with his friends, you can say hi in the morning."

Every few years, some politician brings up a law about banning omega-3s from being consumed with alcohol at all. And then inevitably, some asshole talks about also banning caffeine or painkillers, and the whole argument gets firmly caboshed. Hoseok has always been in the camp that ‘omegas’ should be allowed to do whatever they want, regardless of whether they have an alpha to supervise, so long as they're safe.'

But now he finds that he’s not sure what he believes.

Hoseok is a restrained driver only because he has to be. He pulls out slowly through the throng of people. Keeping his eyes on the road and not on you, slumped in his seat, looking sleepier by the second. A ticket on any of their licenses would cause a national scandal. But Hoseok does go a little bit faster, especially when you start to shiver.

He turns the heat up as high as it will go, and you curl up in his front seat, burying your face below the hemline of his jacket. At a stop sign, he fusses with the heating, pointing all of it at you. “You can fall asleep if you need to.”

That seems to be your trigger word because you suddenly seem to get a lot of energy. You start to rifle through his car, the center console, the glove compartment, an unending string of “What’s this? What’s that? Is that Namjoon’s?” Falling from your lips, each question that he answers patiently. Internally wondering if he’s the only alpha on the planet who’s ever felt thankful that they could babysit a drunk omega.

You look at him, pouting. And it takes a glance or two for him to finally sigh and ask, “What? What's wrong?”

“I feel like you’re never going to man handle me again because I said that and I’m like- totally mourning it.”

He laughs because he doesn’t know what to say. Caught off guard “You shouldn’t. I’ll just- I’ll-”

“See you’re like- never going to pick me up. You’re like really shy for a pack alpha.”

“I’m not shy, I’m controlled. There’s a difference.”

“Sureeee.” You drag out the syllable all long.

Hoseok’s teeth clench. He turns out onto the main road. There’s a reporter there. All they get is a picture of his car. Hoseok is infinitely thankful for blackout windows. “Why do you want me to pick you up so bad?”

“It’s an omega thing. Man handling. Makes us feel safe.”

“For the record, if you tell Jungkook that your feet will never touch the ground.”

“Do you think I should tell him?”

“I think you should tease him about it first. He likes to be teased.”

“Jimin teases him a lot; they also tease you.” You note an air of battiness to your tone. Hoseok wishes he didn’t love it.

Hoseok cannot keep his eyes away from looking at you. He’s glad you’re at a stoplight. It’s the only reason why he has enough control to tease you back. “You’re very pretty.” You blush, start to stammer, “See, I’m not shy.”

“You shouldn’t just say that to me, I’ll get ideas.”

“I thought we were stating facts?”

Your cheeks are cute pink splotches. “It’s just the glitter.”

“So, you did that on purpose, huh?” Hoseok doesn’t know where the sudden power to say what he wants, to flit back, comes from; maybe it’s just your scent soaking the interior of the car, drippy blackberry sweet and only barely tart, so warm and intoxicating that hoseok thinks he's going to go a little crazy for it. Hoseok's alpha is hovering skin deep.

“I like leaving my mark on the alpha’s I see, even if they won’t let me scent them because they don’t want their pack alpha’s to know they’ve seen me.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow, but before Hoseok has a chance to ask what you mean, your smile falls and the flush drains from your face. You paw at the door, panicked.

Hoseok pulls off the side of the road as quick as he can. He narrowly manages to get around his car to open the door and unclick your seatbelt for you before you lean as far away from him as you can and empty your stomach onto the concrete.

Hoseok holds your hair back from your face. “It’s okay. Really. You’re gonna be okay.” He finds himself repeating. voice dropping into a soothing croon. Your body is so limp that he's practically holding up your head. By the time you're finished your whole body is trembling like a leaf and Hoseok just feels bad for you instead of feeling any disgust at all.

Hoseok actually is going to hunt down that alpha and give them a peice of his mind. You hold onto his hip to keep yourself from slipping out of the car and under your palm. His whole body burns.

It's so not the time for him to get turned on; he stands as far away from you as he can. But your thumb cups his hip, a scarce three inches from his fly. Hoseok is only human; he can only handle an omega touching him so many places before his body reacts.

“If you think you have alcohol poisoning, you need to tell me,” he says when you sit back up. Hoseok wonders if you’re a good judge of this. If he should let you make this decision on your own. He should call a manager and have them hook you up with a hydration bag. But that runs other risks. Hoseok isn’t worried about being scolded by the company (the pack is hard to scold when it's them who pay the bills). But he’s worried about you and your reputation. He's not going to tattle tale. He can look after you well enough on his own.

You shake your head, "Omega’s can’t get alcohol poisoning. My body won't let me digest that much alcohol. Don't worry."

He gets a bottle of water from the back of the car and a wet wipe from the center console. He wipes your mouth before he lets you sip, rubbing it across your top lip, then your bottom. You lean into the touch.

Thank god he'd gotten you away from whoever that alpha was. hoseok has never even heard of an alpha being this irresponsible. He’s half tempted to look through your phone and make you block them. Any alpha who would let an omega drink so much must not have had good intentions- and was clearly intending on getting you drunk for nefarious reasons. They clearly aren’t capable of taking proper care of any omega, let alone one as precious as you.

“Here, drink this for me. That's a good omega.” Hoseok’s hands have never been steadier. feeding you a small sip before you take it from him yourself and hold it, not drinking.

When he gets back into the driver's seat, you’re already looking a little better. Your eyes are still sort of hazy, but your face is less green. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so fucked up.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s not okay. Hoseok’s alpha is pacing and barking, fighting to get out. And you can see it in his body language. The grit of his teeth and the tightness of his hands against the steering wheel.

And then, at the worst possible moment, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. And the distant music his car is still playing cuts out in place of a phone ring. Hoseok would ignore it if it were anyone but his pack. But Hoseok always picks up the phone for his packmates. He glances in his rearview mirror before he pulls away from the curb.

It’s Taehyung. Hoseok is used to his drunk calls for a ride, for FaceTime with the Wooga squad, or his other out-of-the-pack friends. Taehyung and Seokjin like to keep a big friend group outside of the pack. Namjoon has one or two art and design buddies, too. It’s hard not to feel a little bit territorial, but Hoseok regularly encourages his pack to get what they need.

Hoseok hadn’t needed to ask who he was meeting. There was no need to in the moment, and this call is not an abnormal check-in. Hoseok has had so much on his mind between moving, the comeback, and the start of the mini tour at the end of the month that one packmate escaping notice isn't really all that uncommon.

The call connects it to the car's built-in sound system before he pulls away from the curb. “Hyung,” Taehyung’s voice sounds distraught. Hoseok’s never heard him sound so close to tears. He's either about to cry or he's already been crying. Hoseok finds his voice dropping low, that comforting alpha chuff halfway between words and growl. A sound that tells his pack I’m here. I’ll handle it.

“Taehyung ah, tell me. Alpha will fix it.”

There are a lot of voices around Tae; it’s hard to hear him. “You have to promise me you won’t be angry.”

“I won’t be angry.”

Hoseok’s hearing gets better and better, honing in on Tae's words. You remain slumped in your seat, nearly nodding off against the window. Hoseok can’t help but smile fondly at you, tilting the heat in your direction.

The load of good it does him. All of Hoseok’s body goes cold with Taehyung’s next words.

“I invited y/n out with me tonight. I took her to this bar- and I went to get her a glass of water and now I can’t find her. Everyone’s saying she was literally kidnapped up by this crazy looking alpha in pj’s and- and- and-”

Hoseok breaks, and breaks hard. You jerk against your seatbelt. Mumbling something half asleep. Someone honks their horn at him. Suddenly, it all clicks into place. Your text. The mysterious ‘wrong alpha’ that you’d been texting. Hoseok mentioning that he doesn’t share, and your confused response. Your questions after Taehyungie when you'd been leaving.

Suddenly, all of that makes sense. Hoseok starts to feel even stupider than he already obviously is, which is an accomplishment. He should win the Grammy for ‘stupidest alpha on record’.

He puts his turn signal on and makes a probably illegal U-turn. “Stay where you are. Actually, go out the back door Tae.”

“But what about-”

Hoseok cuts him off. “Tae-ah, I have her.” You lean over the phone in the center console. Even though it's the car's speakers that are picking up Hobi's voice. Your sleepy slur is cute- if Hoseok wasn't still coming to terms with the situation, he'd probably find a reason to obsess over it.

“Taetae, I miss you. The cars so warm, and Alpha’s taking such good care of me, and I vomited like you said I would but it was so worth it cuz Hobi's making everything feel so nice.”

The line is silent for a second. Then, “Oh shit.”

Hoseok counts back from 7 in his head to keep his composure. “Yeah. Oh shit.”

Hoseok is not surprised to find Tae covered in glitter when he finds him at the back door of the club. Red shirt unbuttoned almost all the way to his waistband, red leather pants tight enough to show off his assets that Hoseok is only too familiar with. Cheeks tear-streaked and scent sour with leftover panic. The glitter is sort of everywhere, including his face. And Hoseok’s suspicion and anger climb higher and higher.

For what it’s worth, Taehyung seems to know better, and he instantly defaults into apology mode when he gets into the back seat. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry alpha I-” Hoseok silences him with a single look in his direction.

“There’s water. Drink it.”  

“Taetae!” you cry happily. Smile dopy, you start again. And start to try and get into the back seat, stopped by the click of your seatbelt and hoseok's hand on your shoulder. “You- stay.”

Maybe two drunk pups are more than I can handle.

“Alpha, I didn’t mean-” Taehyung starts, but Hoseok quiets him with a single long loo.

“Buckle your seatbelt.” Hoseok stares Tae down in the rearview mirror. “We can talk when we get home.”

Tae nods. You giggle, and Hoseok closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the steering wheel before he turns the car around and drives both of you home.  

~-~

When he opens the car door, you’re already reaching for him, almost tentatively. Like you think Hoseok won’t take your weight, he isn’t alive for this purpose solely. Cheeks pink and eyes half open. You're either almost asleep or black out drunk, Hoseok can’t tell the difference. “Carry me?”

Hoseok has never lifted a lighter weight, a weight that he wanted to carry more. His fingers slot against your spine, and he holds you to his chest. Your arms loop around his shoulders, completely loose and doing nothing to support your weight. “You’re so needy.” Hoseok sighs.

You’re quiet for a second. Face pressed against his skin. Hoseok should imprint the feeling of your nose against his scent gland, taking huffs of his scent to memory. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes. It’s a good thing.”

Tae stumbles out of the car, trailing behind the two of you in a zig-zag path. The bare skin of his chest and the sparkles there, catching the light. Hoseok has the image of you unbuttoning his shirt, and his blood instantly starts to boil.

Hoseok makes eye contact with him in the reflection of the elevator door.

“When we get upstairs, you’re going to drink a whole bottle of water and kneel for me in the livingroom until I come for you.”

“Hoseokie-” Hoseok shakes his head, hand smoothing over the small of your back. One hand looped under your legs, the other around your waist. Hoseok resists the urge to press his face into the crown of your head. You don’t resist at all, sniffing at his shoulder. Whining when you find it sour.

“Don’t. I don’t have to tell you how badly you fucked up today Tae-ah.”

The hush that’s fallen over the pack's apartment is audible. Namjoon and Yoongi have doubtlessly worn themselves raw in the other room. But Seokjin is awake and in the kitchen. Brushing his teeth at the kitchen sink because from the sound of it- someone's showering.

His eyes go comically wide when Hoseok bursts through the door. Princess carrying you through it, mindful of your head and your shoes. Hoseok accidentally kicks a cardboard box, half full with kitchen supplies. It makes a clatter that doubtlessly wakes up half the pack.

If it didn’t, Taehyung knocking into the door face-first would do it.

“Ow!”

You wake up a little, lifting your head from where you’ve buried it in Hobi's chest. “Why’s it hiccup noisy?”

“Oh my fucking god-”

“Don’t even say it,” Hoseok says to Jin, walking to his bedroom with you before anyone gets in his way. Hoseok hears the others start to wake up. The shower cuts out. Yoongi is saying something to Namjoon in the other room. He internally wishes for the future, where the pack house will be large enough that the sounds of each other never disturb his pack again. Soon.

Seokjin follows both of you into his room. Hoseok’s room is already half packed, boxes piled up against the wall. He places you gently against his pillows without a second thought. “What’s she doing here? Why is she passed out? What’s going on?”

“Jinnie~” you turn your head, tone trailing off into a giggle. “Why are you sideways?” Hoseok can see it in real time- Jin realizing how fucked up you are.

“Taehyung went looking for a little trouble.” He slides your shoes off your feet. Undoing the buckle. You place your foot against his chest, giggling and pushing against his tummy. He catches you around your ankle. Thumb and forefinger closing around the joint.

“Your hands feel nice, alpha.” Hoseok rolls his eyes and swallows, mouth flooded with saliva. He places your foot gently back against the bed. sliding his open palm up your shin as Jin starts to take Hoseok's jacket off of you. Eyes flicking down to the glittery dress appreciatively. you whine, hands fisting in the material. But Jin just leans over you, chin brushing the top of your head to gently detangle your fingers from where they've fisted in the fur lining.

“Behave pup.” Your hands leave the coat, and Hoseok feels like something is slipping past him again, as he so often does in your presence.

“No. I don’t wanna.”

“Jesus.” Jin rubs a hand across his face.

Hoseok resists the urge to whine, “I know.”

“Am I a little trouble?” Your eyes are closed, but you can’t seem to stop laughing. The words halfway between one giggle and the other.

Hoseok doesn’t let his hands linger on you for too long. “You’re not in any trouble at all. Taehyungie on the other hand-”

From the other room, Tae shouts, still a little drunk. “I’m kneeling now! You don’t have to badmouth me!”

A shadow falls across your body, and your eyes open, staring into the doorway. Hoseok follows your line of sight. “Yoonie!”

Yoongi cuts through the darkness, hand on the small of Hoseok’s back, steadying. He looks rough, with hickey marks from Namjoon that the makeup Noonas will side eye in the morning, already darkening on his throat and down his collar bones. But his eyes are clear, his look quiet and supportive in a way that makes Hobi want to sag against him as he stands there, waiting to be ordered around.

“I need you to watch her for me. She drank a lot. Tell me if she vomits again.”

“Bleh~” you squeak, giggling again as you mock vomit. Apparently very endeared by your own goofiness. Hand fluttering in front of your face.

Jin catches it. Squeezing it once before he tries to feed you a glass of water, straw pressed to your lips. The corner of his eyes wrinkles affectionately with his smile. “At least you’re a cute drunk.”

“No, I’m not~” you mouth the straw, and something low in Hoseok’s belly twists.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m-”

Hoseok yanks you to the edge of the bed, and you squeak. Your cheeks go a little pinker. And they almost flinch at the sudden smell of slick coating the air. Hoseok is rougher than he means to be. Pulling a pair of his pajama pants up your legs. He holds his breath, doing his best not to touch you too much or to let his touch wander.

This is his worst nightmare. His worst idea of a good time. You misinterpret his touch, the way his fingers skim your waist. Tying the string of them tight. Knuckles brushing your stomach. You reach up and cup his cheek, palm sliding down his throat before anyone can tell you not to.

Hoseok can't really be blamed for the way his alpha reacts to such a blatant touch to his scent gland.

He can tell his scent is going crazy, he can tell he's being too rough, too dominant, acting too much like your alpha, and not just an alpha you know, taking care of you in a vulnerable position. Really- any alpha would rescue and omega in distress like this.

Hoseok takes both of your wrists and pins them to the bed.

“You’re a handsy little thing, aren’t you?” You squirm, trying to get closer to him, but Hoseok keeps you there. But you can’t move an inch, grinning up at him. His actions promote a fresh wave of giggles, and looking down at you, Hoseok realizes that you truly don't know the kind of danger you're in.

A warm palm presses to the small of Hoseok’s back. Yoongi. He doesn’t have to say anything. Doesn't have to tell him that he's on the line or just crossing it. Hoseok quickly gets control back over his alpha. Neither Jin nor Yoongi remarks upon Hoseok’s slip-up. He's sort of domming you- sort of letting his alpha meet your omega. Because acting instinctively with someone who isn't in the pack wouldn't be appropriate. He presses your wrists into the bed one final time and then lets you go. Leaving you there sprawled in his bed.

You clearly take this the wrong way, sniffling. You sit up when Hoseok leans back, like you can tell he’s about to leave.

Your lower lip starts to wobble, and Seokjin very clearly starts to look for something (probably a stuffed animal) to soothe your whining. Yoongi just sighs, and starts to gently take the pins from your hair. careful not to let them get tangled. As Seokjin hands Hoseok a big shirt of his to put over your dress, now bunched up around your waist.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?”

Hoseok guides your arms through a big shirt of his and Yoongi pulls your hair free of the collar. He's gentler than Hobi, or maybe just less addled by your scent (seriously it's getting under Hoseok's skin in every way possible) he combs your hair back from your flushed face, before plucking a hair tie off his own wrist to tie it up. Sending a cascade of sparkles in his wake. Hoseok’s whole bed is going to be covered with them by the end of the night.

“Because I got all dolled up for Hoseokie and he doesn’t even like me.” Hoseok barks a laugh, grabbing your face by your chin.

He always finds himself wanting to do that. Something about grabbing your mouth, setting his fingers under your jaw where your scent is, as close to a scenting as he lets himself get. His fingertips rub over the ball of your joint, and Hoseok knows what he looks like- an alpha with his teeth bared, an omega just nearly in his grasp. It's only Yoongi's heavy look over his shoulder that keeps him from doing something really, really stupid. 

“You’re drunk, and for the record, me liking you isn’t the problem.”

Hoseok sets you back against the bed. This time you stay put, arms over your head, sprawling. Clearly getting comfortable, like you have no intention of leaving- not that Hoseok would ever let you.

“Can I at least have a good night kiss?”

“No.” Seokjin covers his face with his hands. Yoongi sits on the edge of Hoseok's bed. Your hand is on Yoongi's thigh, not high up, but still there. Like you're telling him that if Hoseok has to leave, he'd better not.

“Just on the forehead?”

“Absolutely not.”

You whine and roll closer to Yoongi, looking over your shoulder to pout at him. Yoongi looks like he’s short-circuiting. Putting together just how drunk you are. “You’re not my favorite anymore,”

“And you are not sober enough for this conversation or to be asking for these things. Be good. Listen to Yoongi and Jinnie.”

You nod, and thankfully, Hoseok hopes you won’t remember any of this in the morning. He doubts you will. As Hoseok leaves the room, he hears Yoongi say something about taking off your makeup. It takes a second for him to steady himself. Hoseok stands there, eyes closed, gripping the doorframe hard enough that it creeks under his touch, before he enters through the archway into the living room.

Taehyung on his knees is a sight to see. Maybe because the alpha is very clearly gnashing his teeth against his instincts, teeth gritted, the same way he always is whenever he submits to Hoseok. His instincts and his desire to be a good pup are constantly at war with each other, and it's Hoseok's job to make sure the proper side wins out. Taehyung has always needed a rougher hand than the rest.

Jimin is sprawled in a nearby chair, creamy silk robe covering his near-nakedness. Hair wet, waiting, clearly fixated on his kneeling submissive. Ownership is not anything they take lightly, but Taehyung has always belonged to Jimin in a secret, special way. However, both of them belong to Hoseok too, both of them are his to torment and spoil in equal measure.

Jimin's clearly not intending to move for the duration of Taehyung’s punishment, and Hoseok would never ask him to leave. But his eyes keep flickering up to Hoseok's bedroom, and his attention is divided. He must know you're inside. Must not have come to see you for some reason.

All of the unknowns hover, the details just slightly out of reach. Hoseok's heart is hammering so fast, his hands are visibly shaky in a way they usually aren't. Something is wrong. He just can't figure it out quite yet.

Jimin taps his fingers against the arm of the chair impatiently, like Taehung’s lack of recalcitrance is wasting his time. He eyes Taehyung’s predicament like it’s hardly interesting. The generous swell between his thighs tempting, but only a distraction to the punishment obviously underway. Hardly worth remarking upon. Taehyung likes to submit to more than one packmate at a time. It helps him feel safe and looked after.

Hoseok pauses a step away from him. Just far enough to piss Taehyung off. He tries to shuffle closer, still in his undone shirt and leather pants, but his face is clean of makeup. Hoseok’s willing to bet it was Jimin who tended to him, listening just out of earshot. Taehyung sways, but comes no closer, but his false obedience won’t do him any good.

Hoseok grabs him by the hair with little preamble. Yanking as hard as he can. Taehyung keens and it’s music to Hoseok’s ears. His hands slide from where they were, kept obediently behind his back. For a second, he almost reaches out to touch Hoseok, and then clearly thinks better of it at the last second. The sound melts into a moan, his thick dark eyelashes fluttering. Hoseok holds him so that his neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle. Miles of skin around his throat bare for the taking.

With his other hand, Hoseok traces down a vein, all the way to Taehyung's Adam's apple. He feels the rumble of a growl underneath his fingertips and laughs.

“You don’t even have anything to say to me, do you pup? You know you’re in too much trouble for words.”

Tae is already breathing heavy when he looks up at Hobi through his lashes. And Hoseok’s touch goes gentler, petting through Tae's hair, grip tightening occasionally. Keeping Tae on edge.

"May I speak alpha?"

Hoseok lets the silence hover for a second. "You may.”

“I would like to say for the record, that I was getting her water when you found her. That I tried to get her not to drink so much. But she started texting you and then started downing shots. I know what you’ve said about letting omegas make their own choices for themselves, So I didn’t get in the way of that because of your rules.”

Hoseok boils, anger taken out of his reasoning but not out of his body. “That doesn’t change what happened.” Hoseok’s finger jabs in the direction of his bedroom. “She is in danger Tae. You didn’t see the way they were looking at her- you left her to the wolves. If anyone had gotten to her before me-” Hoseok swallows back his terror, rubbing a hand over his face. Jimin’s body turns, almost getting up and out of the chair. “Your intention doesn’t change anything. You didn't tell me who you were seeing either.”

Taehyung scoffs. "You never ask me who I'm going to see."

"She's different. You know that. This is dishonesty by omission. You know this is the kind of information you should tell me."  

“You said you wouldn’t get mad.”

Hoseok closes his eyes. “This was bad Tae.”

Tae squirms. Hoseok’s alpha recognizes it for what it is: defiance. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on Tae's temple. Hoseok wants to lap at it.

“You’re doing one thing and saying another. I can’t be respectful of her choices and guide her at the same time. Make up your mind and we’ll follow suit.” Taehyung is still the picture of submission, but his words are anything but. He cocks his head up at Hoseok, and he’s asking for a knotting, really, with the way he smiles.

Hoseok won’t make it gentle because Taehyung doesn’t like gentle. Not when their instincts are like this; rabid dogs without a bone to chew on. “You know, I’d never have let her do any of if you just took what’s yours already.”

Hoseok goes completely still. It's eerie. In the chair, Jimin’s tapping against the armrest stops.

“What’s your safeword?”

“Yellow for slowdown. Red for stop. Green for go.”

“Can I slap you?”

Taehyung laughs at him, “you want me to say please?”

The slap cracks across Taehyung’s cheek, loud. He loses another moan, his cheek red, the surprise so delicious that Hoseok can smell how much Tae likes it in his scent. He’s already hard between his legs. It's obscene the way that Tae's big, useless cock strains the fabric; Hoseok almost thinks he can see it twitch.

Hoseok doesn’t let the touch stew for long before he’s stepping up close enough that his calf brushes against that hardness, a little too hard, it must hurt- but Tae loves the pain, sags closer to Hoseok, hands wrapping around his leg, panting through it.

“Alpha- alpha please-”

“Please what?”

“Please hurt me. I need it.” Taehyung’s tone is wet now; he doesn’t like making Hoseok angry. This is new and uncharted territory for the pack- courting an omega is something that none of them had expected to do any time soon. Not until you.

It's overwhelming in a good way most of the time. But on top of this, Between their straight-up career trajectory and the general maintenance that remaining relevant necessitates, it's no wonder that this- something Taehyung wanted but could be out of reach- pushed him over the edge.

Hoseok wants to believe that all he'd have had to do is ask Hoseok, pretty please, can I take your omega out for a night of dancing? But they both know Hoseok would never have agreed. You might be asleep in Hoseok's bed, you might wear his furs and his scent, but you're not the pack's omega. You're not Hoseok's omega, not yet.

It doesn't matter that you're clearly interested in them, the flirting. The banter. The pawing. You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you don't know what you'd be giving up, being theirs.

Hoseok can't think straight with your scent in the air, Sleeping. Hoseok can tell that you're near sleep in the other room. You smell so heady and sweet that it's making his brain go a little haywire. Conjuring up fantasies that Hoseok wants to indulge.

Deep down, Hoseok would want courting you to be perfect. Maybe with a trip abroad to show you just exactly the kind of lifestyle they could provide. Glitz and an appropriate amount of glamor. Hoseok is a gentleman and wouldn't take complete control over your life instantly. The boundary of your life and their life would get pushed little by little. Bit by bit, Kiss by kiss, and bite by bite.

First your schedule. Hoseok imagines it. How would he justify it if you told him that no- omegas don't need a steadying hand? Alpha wants you to eat this at exactly 3pm, not one bite more and not one bite less. would you turn on your location? I promise not to watch you too much- It's just incase something happens."

Then your apartment. you're so far away from us there, can one of us sleep over each night? Just to keep you safe. I'm not keeping an eye on you- I promise. I just get worried when you're not here.

Then, finally, you- all under his direction.

You're not sleeping enough, one more hour, sweetling. you can suck on alpha's neck if you need something to soothe you to go back to sleep. don't be shy about it pup- here you go. Ah ah ah- that's not for little omega's like you- let alpha do it. I know you said you wanted to go alone, but won't that make you overwhelmed? Alpha wants you to wear his scent. This will only take a second, just open wide for me. You're not wearing your collar; it's okay, i'm not mad. just when you're not at home.

I know it's a lot, I know you're overstimulated, but omegas are supposed to cum so much. It's healthy for you, you can handle it. I'd never do anything to hurt you. If you need to safeword, you can. Alpha won't be mad.

Hoseok would love nothing more than to take the weight of every little decision off your shoulders. Even the more intimate decisions.

He imagines the love, too, first kisses and first dates. Having you at the pack house all the time not just at work. Fuck- even the idea of commuting with you is sort of a fantasy. He imagines a collection of one-on-one outings, building up slowly from just kisses and makeouts to helping you through your heat.

Not this- anything but this. Anything but you vomiting on the side of the road and passing out in Hoseok's arms. You black out drunk, whining and reaching for an alpha to steady you.

Once again, Hoseok is thankful that he'd gotten to you before any other alpha had. Omegas aren't meant to be alone, on their own, without a pack like you are. And at least for tonight, you won't be.

hoseok knows how he wanted this to go. so does taehyung. and there's nothing he hates more than disappointing his pack alpha.

Tae has always liked things that hurt him. Wanting you, and yet fearing living up to your expectations is no different. Hoseok protects his pack from all hurts emotional or otherwise. Hoseok's pups so rarely seek out punishments like this. When Hoseok's got him on his knees like this, there is nothing in Hoseok's chest beyond the desire to give his pack what they need.  

Maybe the idea of being the only one to court you was just too much for Taehyung. Hoseok imagines how it must have happened. He finds out later from Tae. How you'd messaged his private Instagram story the last time he went out. Asking what bar it was that played such good music.

Tae eagerly telling you the name and that you should go. Your confession that you didn't feel comfortable going out without an alpha escort, which had led to more confessions that you feel cooped up every weekend, as omegas often need to be careful. Tae volunteered to go with you to keep you safe.

Her (8:00pm): Are you sure Hoseokie won't mind?

TaeTae (8:07pm): He won't so long as it's you ;) I hang out with people outside the pack all the time. He's not like- our jailer.

TaeTae (8:07pm): I mean, granted, they're not as cute as you

TaeTae (8:07pm): So, he might get jealous

Her (8:16 pm): so long as he won't mind....

Her (8:16pm): I've never been to a club with a dress code. Can you help me pick what to wear?

TaeTae (8:17pm): better, how about I send you something?

Her (8:17pm): so long as you don't go overboard.

Then a picture a few days later. Boxes piled high in your doorway. Flowers too.

Her (9:25pm): I told you not to go overboard. There are so many, I still don't know what to pick.

Her (9:59): Can you help me choose alpha?

Hoseok laughs, mean. The tension in Tae's spine crumples just a little. He continues to shuffle forward. Begging for any touch, cruel or careful. His cock rubs up against Hoseok's shin. Once unintentional, twice is rutting.

The next slap makes Tae lose a dry sob,

"Green, thank you alpha, green."

“You think I’m going to touch your knot with how you’ve acted?” Taehyung wiggles against Hoseok’s hold, but not for long. Hoseok loses another slap, this time, Hoseok can feel Tae's cock twitch against where it’s pressed against his calf. Hoseok palms Tae blatantly. It's fun to see him prepare for another slap and not get it, to flinch and shutter when hoseok reaches past, where his shirt is open, palming him blatantly. Fingers brushing nipple on his way past. 

“My little alpha, my little guard dog needs a bit more instruction.” Taehyung pushes into Hoseok’s touch. Face first into Hoseok's lap. nuzzling and whining like he really is a dog. He doesn't protest at being called that. They all know he's Hoseok’s perfect alpha. One of a set. Hoseok’s perfect pack.

“Tell me what you need,.

Taehyung’s eyes are luminous, on his knees, his pretty face tilted up to Hoseok; he is the picture of utter devotion. It's the last semi coherent sentence he says for the rest of the night. After it- he doesn't need his words because Hoseok is his voice, all the way down to his tongue and throat.

"Tell me what your instincts are saying to you, if you know mine so clearly. Go on- tell alpha.”

Taehyung licks his lips, cheek pressed flush to the matching bulge in Hoseok's pants. But Tae isn't looking at him or it, he's looking at Hoseok's bedroom door, wide open. The darkness sweet and tempting.

“To sink my teeth in and never let go.”

~-~

You come out only once through the night.

You hover at the door, shaky, wobbling so bad that Yoongi lingers behind and holds out his hands in case you fall. Hoseok’s clothes look so big on you, the pants so long that you’re in danger of tripping if you take another step. Jimin stirs from the opposite chair. Their late-night conversation- about the weather, about a photoshoot, about a possible collaboration track that inevitably falls through in a few short weeks- falls silent.

They do everything but talk about Taehyung, still clothed but reasonably debauched. Shirt pushed down to his elbows, pants unbuttoned and unzipped all the way. His popped knot out and pressed hot between the floor, the zipper of his pants, and the sole of Hoseok’s foot.

The two of them pay Taehyung no mind, not even when Tae garbles around the cock in his mouth, tongue pressed to the hot furl of Hoseok’s knot. Not even when he whines as Hoseok nudges the head of his cock against the back of his throat. Almost forcing his knot passed Tae's lips. The threat of a mouth knotting is there.

Hoseok looks over the back of the couch at you. His hand goes between his thighs, tugging Taehyung’s head closer to the base of his cock to keep him there and keep him from pulling off in the panic of being seen.

He’s been doing so well, warming Hoseok’s cock for the better part of the last hour with hardly a complaint. He's hardly pushed off for breath or wiped the spit from his chin, dripping into a small puddle on the floor, joining the mess of Taehyung's latest orgasm. Taehyung’s throat is so well-trained that he doesn’t even gag anymore.

Tae's hands grip the fabric of Hoseok’s pants hard. His eyes are watery, going cross-eyed with how he has to look at Hobi. Hoseok pays him little mind. He’s started to sag against Hoseok’s leg for support, his body too tired to stay up. You can’t see Tae from your angle. But Tae panics regardless.

Between his legs, his swollen and red cock bobs, getting wet again at the tip. Hoseok drives his heel into the head of it, bare foot arching against it when Tae dares to rut forward. Hoseok yanks his hair in warning.

Your eyes are clearer than before, but you still sway in the doorway. Biting your lower lip. “Alpha won’t me mad.” Yoongi croons from behind you. Rubbing at your spine, keeping you from shrinking back and hiding.

Hoseok watches you. Petting through Tae's hair. taehyung hardly reacts to it.

Taehyung hasn’t really been here since Hoseok made him cum from a bit of cock slapping (Taehyung’s preferred punishment). It took a lot out of both of them, but now Hoseok’s instincts have quieted to a slow hum in his head. Taehyung's eyes go cross-eyed as Hoseok’s cock hits the back of his throat again. Letting out a quiet choke. Keeping the pack alpha’s cum safe in his tummy.

You take another step forward, and your eyes flicker down, widening just a little. You can see Taehyung. Taehyung can see you. Hoseok watches, waits to see what you’ll do. When you’ve been silent for maybe ten seconds. Hoseok finally asks. “Yes, Omega?”

Your cheeks flush, and you look away from Tae and up to Hoseok. “I threw up again. I want cake to make me feel better.”

Hoseok barks a laugh, and it breaks into a sigh as he pets gently through Tae’s hair. Hoseok watches your eyes flicker down to his head. Then back up to Hoseok’s face again. Behind you, Seokjin hangs up your sparkly red dress. You must be bare under his clothes. Suddenly, the idea of nothing between your body and his scent, you and his touch, is all-consuming.

Hoseok can tell that his scent is growing headier by the moment. Taehyung takes his cock just a little bit deeper just to get his nose pressed against Hoseok’s happy trail, sniffing eagerly.

“You can have a bit of rice and vegetables. But nothing too spicy or sweet for your stomach.”

Your hands fist in the hem of his sleepshirt, like you need something to hold onto to steady yourself. “But- but-” Hoseok understands why alphas often deny their omega's requests because it's so cute. You begging. Hoseok wants to see more of it.

Yoongi’s hand wraps around your stomach, nuzzling into the nape of your neck. The touch makes you shiver audibly. Jimin’s smile is catlike as he watches you and Taehyungie and says nothing. All of them know how much they both like it. Yoongi and Tae have different needs. Taehyung likes being watched and ignored during scenes like this. To be toyed with and taken carefully apart and put back togeather later

But Yoongi's preferences are much more subtle.

Yoongi likes to control everything that comes into his lovers' bodies. a cock, food, water. it doesn't matter. But most of the time What they eat and how they eat it is an easy outlet for him.

It's not quite federism, because it's not really about the food itself exactly, but it is about the control. It pleases Yoongi's instincts that he gets to decide something so basic for the rest of the pack. Of course, it's up to the alphas how much you'll eat. Of course something like that- can't be left up to a little omega like yourself. It's only natural that they would take that burden off your plate. You might ask for things, might say what you want, but in the end, everything is up to them.

Should be up to them. Hoseok corrects his inner monologue, his alpha whispering in his ear, begging Hoseok to just take and take and take.

Yoongi rubs a careful circle over your hip and stomach. Like he can already feel his good intentions inside of you, keeping you warm, healthy, and safe.

You don't spy the glint in Yoongi's eye as he presses close to you on his way past and promises. “I’ll make it yummy for you. I promise you'll enjoy it. I'm a really really good cook.”

You resist only a little more, face downturned, Yoongi’s fingers roll once against your stomach and then again before he leaves you there- it's not for long, Seokjin takes his place, gently detangling your hands and leading you back to the room with both wrists held. You really do look overly small standing there. You look too tired to fight, like it’s been worn out of you.

Hoseok looks at you and feels hungry for something else entirely. You glance up at him, and Hoseok guides Taehyung's head into a slow bob. fucking his cock in and out of Tae's throat but not his mouth. The squeeze of Taehyung's breath is warm and wet and heavenly even as he chokes.

“So long as it’s yummy…” You let Seokjin gently pull you back into the room and back to bed. Murmuring softly about how good of a pup you are for listening, how obedient.

Between Hoseok’s legs, Taehyung makes a noise, eyes rolling back in his skull. Joseok lets go of his head on instinct. When Hoseok picks up his foot, he finds that Tae has come again, adding to the mess on the floor in thick ropes of white.   

~-~

After Taehyung is whisked away into a bedroom for some much-needed sleep and aftercare, wobbly and spacing out under Jimin’s patient touch. Hoseok is finally allowed to return to where he’s needed most.

Hoseok isn’t worried about him at all. Today is forgiven after a punishment, and Tae rarely ever feels any guilt at all after a punishment has been completed; he’s not like Jungkookie or Namjoon, whose brains cling to shame even in the aftermath of a scene. Jimin honestly enjoys aftercare more than regular sex sometimes, something about beta instincts that Hoseok doesn’t understand and yet indulges. He's happy to allow Jimin that tonight.

Seokjin is already sitting in the corner of the room, mouth pressed against the back of his hand as he watches you sleep in the darkness. He makes a soft noise when Hoseok comes to the door. Titling his face up for a kiss. “I’ll watch her. Go to sleep.”

Seokjin’s eyes flicker from Hoseok’s face to his body, almost trembling. Hoseok knows he’s gauging how close his alpha is to taking control. His slip-up earlier was not forgotten. Hoseok hates that he’s wondering if it's safe to leave Hoseok with you.

Hoseok’s alpha is too close to the surface tonight, if you wake up and try to brat out like earlier- Hoseok could lose control. But you being asleep in his bed is fairly pleasing to his instincts. A sleeping omega is exactly what Hoseok’s alpha needs. Someone to guard. Someone to watch until the hammer of his pulse quiets down.

Seokjin says nothing as he gets up. They swap places, and when Seokjin gets to the doorway, he glances back, but Hoseok is already fixated on your sleeping form. Chest rising softly. The spill of your hair over his sheets, the tantalizing temptation that is your open hand, palm up against the sky.  

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Yoongi hyung. I think you should leave the door open. Okay?”

"Okay." Hoseok parrots quietly. Hardly blinking. Gaze fixated on you.

Hoseok has never been offered the pleasure of watching an omega sleep in a bed. A nest is different, a nest is special in a way that a bed isn’t. That's where you're most vulnerable, but here. You look so peaceful. So unaware.

You look so small in his clothes. Curled on top of the covers. A thick duvet pushed down to your knees. Your arm under one pillow, cuddling into it.

Omegas move around a lot in sleep.

Hoseok has never seen it in person (these kinds of searches are reserved for pups barely past presentation age, instincts still grating enough to look up nesthub on the internet). You’re not a stationary sleeper. Most omegas sleep nest around their heats, but you must do it all the time. It’s natural how easily the bed parts around your body, the fabric moving to cradle you, a nest made almost instinctually.

Your knees push the blankets apart, your arms tangle with what’s in front of you, face brushing the sheets in a nuzzle, belly down in Hoseok’s bed, making it a nest. The pillow is quickly rejected after a few minutes. Unsatisfied. You let out a sleepy sound, and Hoseok is sure you're completely asleep- just sleep nesting- as you continue searching for something.

You let out a needy whimper, lower lip wobbling in sleep, unsettled, body trembling.

Hoseok lifts himself from your bedside, desperately trying to find some way to soothe you. The way you nose, forehead and face rub against his blankets. Increasingly roughly. Needy, desperate nose-first nuzzling in his sheets, looking for something specific, something you need.

Hoseok's jacket is hanging on the door of his closet. Hoseok couldn't tell you why he takes it. Why he know that's what you're looking for. Even though you wore it outside, he knows you won't settle until you have it close. He's guided by nothing but instinct as he places it over your body. You melt underneath it. Lips parting where they smack in a sleepy sigh.

Hoseok watches mesmerized as you slowly roll in it, getting it under your body, transforming it into the base of your nest.

Your body goes boneless when it's finally right, fingers tangling in the soft furry interior, clutching it like you’re worried someone will take it from you. Whatever sourness to your scent immediately dissipates. You rub your face into it and promptly go back to sleep. Hoseok sits back in the chair for the rest of the night. One leg crossed over the other, face balanced on one hand.

He doesn’t even fucking blink.

~-~

When Hoseok wakes in the morning, you’re already gone.

You slipped out the door sometime after he fell asleep and before sunrise. There’s no text on his phone. No handwritten note in the kitchen. Even though he texts you the second he wakes to make sure you got home alright, it goes unanswered. He paces the length of the apartment. Searching every bedroom for you until it's clear you're not here, you're just gone.

You've left them without a word.

Hoseok can’t go into his bedroom without being inundated by you, your scent soaking the whole space, and fuck, it’s terrible that they’re literally moving in the next few days; Hoseok’s bedroom has already been packed away, mostly dismantled. Otherwise, he might be tempted to make it into something of a shrine.

Your dress is still hanging on the back of the door. Hoseok won't pretend he doesn’t press his face into it and scent it. The clothes you wore to bed and his jacket are suspiciously missing. Hoseok guesses you used it to cover up on your way out. He doesn’t text you about it at all. But everyone else does. Taehyung even apologizes, but You don’t respond to any of them.

Hoseok messages you himself.

Alpha (7:00 AM): At least tell me you got back safe

Alpha (7:00 AM): And didn’t like- pass out at home.

Alpha (7:00 AM): I’m trying to be a gentleman about it, but I’m sort of going crazy here.

You finally text him back that evening. Hoseok guesses you probably slept off your hangover, and that’s why you were so slow to respond.

Her (5:21 PM): You’re a big baby, aren’t you?

Alpha (5:21 PM): A bigger baby than Jungkookie.

Alpha (5:21 PM): Are you alright?

Her (5:23 PM): Yeah...

Her (5:23 PM): I mean, I might never sleep off the shame, but I’ll be fine so long as you don’t hate me.

Alpha (5:23 PM): You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not for that. Not with me.

Alpha (5:23 PM): I could never hate you.

But instead of any more teasing, the message stays left unread. Hoseok never gets another message back. That night, before he goes to sleep, continuing to pack up the pack’s apartment, Hoseok lingers over the glass that you left on his bedside table, the mess of his bed, the divot where you lay just last night, he touches the spot where you slept, fingers imagining the curve of your body, the bed long gone cold.

He touches the straw where your lips touched, sighs, and closes his eyes. Lingering for just another moment before he throws it away.

~-~

You don’t come back to work for the next three weeks. Well, two weeks and 3 days technically. It’s not like Hoseok’s counting.

It's long enough that everyone is on edge by the time you return. Any pictures taken of you and Taehyungie at the club, or you and Hoseok leaving, are quietly bought, paid for, and buried. They never even hit the media with how quickly Hoseok tamps down on them. Your privacy and reputation remain intact for now.

You have the option for long-term medical leave as a part of your contract, but that still doesn’t make it any easier. But when you do come back, you act like nothing’s wrong, falling back into place as if nothing happened. And the pack can’t help but act normal out of pure worry that bringing it up would push you away.

They don’t bring up the drinking or what you saw. They don’t bring up any of it again, not for a long, long time.

Heats have the habit of hitting at the most inopportune times.

You’d barely made it home before you were leaking slick down your thighs, staining Hoseok’s pj’s and his jacket, messing them, ruining them beyond repair.

Heats always leave you feeling unmoored, days of dizziness and half-there feelings. Phantom alphas and phantom hands that touch your jaw, cup your cheek, hold your ankles, and press your wrists to the bed. Memories that tangle with reality and leave nothing more than fire in their wake. You can’t keep track of the hours or minutes, if you’ve eaten or slept enough. You’re hardly even sure of whether you’ve cum or not- if it’s your hands or the hands of an alpha between your legs or not.

But with this heat, there was one constant. The jacket beneath your cheek, smelling like mangos and home, protection, and safety. You’d bitten and sucked at it, used it as a gag to tamp down on your whines as waves of scalding pleasure rock through your body in unending waves. Nuzzling into it for comfort, held tight when you needed something to hold onto. You even babbled to it during the worst part of your heat fever. Endless strings of meaningless pleas for an alpha who couldn't hear them. An alpha who isn't there.

Why aren't your alphas here? Why isn't your pack here? Your omega doesn't understand it- why they've left you- why they've abandoned you so. The feeling of it scalds, loneliness and neglect claw at your chest. Makes you whine and cry and bury your face in the jacket in front of you.

You’d bitten it so hard you’d left little holes at the collar, right where it’s pressed up against Hoseok’s throat and scent gland. The rest of the jacket was too slick soaked and stained to ever dream of returning it to Hobi. You’ve hardly been able to meet his eyes since you came back. The others are a little bit easier to be around- to act like nothing’s wrong and nothing’s changed. Even though- maybe everything has.

A few times during your heat, you were lucid enough to check your phone.

Taetae (10:51 PM): I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You should know I don’t regret going out with you. You don’t have to be scared.

Jkie (4:21 am): I miss you. When does your leave end? Things aren’t the same without you here. Don’t tell him I told you, but Hoseokie tripped because he kept looking at your empty nest during practice today. He’s like- so missing you too.

Minnie: (6:01 am): They just told me you’re not here again today. If you want space, all you have to do is ask for it. It makes me crazy when you won’t respond to me.

Jinnie oppa (10:33 PM): Are you alright? They said you’re taking medical leave. Are you at your apartment? Are you sick? I can drop off soup. Or stuffed animals for your nest. Even if it’s quick. I’m not asking for a scenting. You don’t have to worry about us; just get better.

Rmmmmmmm (1:15 am): If we did something to offend you, please just know we didn’t mean it. Can I call you? Is that alright? We don't even have to talk about anything that happened.

Yoonie (5:20 PM) You left glitter all over the apartment- we almost don’t want to leave cuz it reminds us of you. You can tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.

You know alphas can be overbearing. But come on- it’s only been… 10 days.

There’s only one text from Hoseok. One in addition to the one he already left. Several days ago. Your fingers are too slick, coated, and trembling so violently that you can't type out a coherent reply.

Alpha (8:00pm): I’m sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you.

Alpha (8:00pm): I’ll tell them to leave you alone.

The texts stop after that. It's radio silence. But if only he knew that alone was the last thing you want.

~-~

You do end up going back to work. Hybe is generally generous with your leave, but you know that two and a half weeks is testing the limits. The pack acts like nothing’s changed, like you’ve only been gone for a few days (and not so long that they'd practically been at each other's throats for the littlest of things, more snapish, less patient, more disjointed than they ever are.)

They don’t say anything about the night you got drunk out with Taehyungie. You still don’t remember most of it.

You remember the inside of Hoseok’s car, how warm you felt. You remember him laughing at you and telling you you weren’t in trouble, but also feeling like you sort of were. You don’t know what you said when you were drunk- but it had to have been bad. You know you have a tendency to be a little bratty when you're drunk. It's embarrassing. That’s what you are.

You think you remember something else. But surely that part was just the beginning of your heat dreams.

Your body is so sore from your heat this time. You have to move slowly or else you get dizzy. It always leaves you aching in weird spots and nesting longer than usual. This time it's your lower back, your shoulders, and your neck- full of pinched nerves that you just can’t massage out on your own. Post-heat comes with a bone-deep exhaustion that you’ve come to associate with just being you.

Any other heat, and you would have suppressed it with medication, but this one came on so quickly, you didn't have the chance to get your proper dosage. Usually, you have days to prepare, not just an hour's notice. You usually do suppress your heat- even slightly- just to dull the symptoms and make it manageable. You've ended up in the hospital for dehydration before. The day after it ends, you do end up going to the hospital for a check-in. You'd texted your doctor that morning, and they'd fast-tracked you for an emergency appointment.

A bag of saline and nutrients later, and some gentle prying on whether or not you've found a pack yet to make these easier on you, and you'd been right as rain. Your doctor gently requested that you be admitted for a few days for observation as a 'more delicate than typical' omega- but you'd politely refused. There's still a risk of you catching a cold or some other nasty sickness, but you can handle that when it comes. This heat hadn't been that bad.

You don't have to think too far as to why.

You throw Hoseok's expensive coat, completely absent of his scent, in the washing machine, set it to sterilize, and wait. You shove it in the back of your closet when it's dry and handle the rest of your apartment. You don't like having other people come in and clean after your Heats, even though it takes you twice as long as usual, you're so tired that you crawl into your nest, mostly unmade, and just sleep right there with the lights still on.

In the middle of the night, after tossing and turning for a few hours. You take the jacket out later and put it in your nest. The fur lining is a little less soft than it was when hoseok gave it to you, and it doesn't smell like either of you anymore, but you still cling to it helplessly.

Being at work and around the alpha’s helps, but it also makes you so sleepy and zoned out. It's not the comfort of your routine- it's just them.

In Yoongi's studio and Hoseok’s practice room, your mind goes hazy. The quiet lull of their voices calms that baser part of you. Having lunch with Tae, Jungkook, and Seokjinie, their shoulders brushing yours, close enough to touch. finally. You almost fall asleep right there at the table. Had listened to Jin's quiet chuckle as he holds your hand in one of his, playing with your sleeve, the listless rub of his thumb going still when he sees the bruise on the back of your hand from your IV.

After your body spent a week wanting and being denied the safety of a familiar scent, being around them feels like pure relief. Like a drug almost.

It's almost silly that it’s you who gets paid for this.

Being surrounded by the pack’s scents is oh so comforting. Like, for the first time, that instinctual part in your head finally shuts off. You hardly last a few minutes of active scenting with any of them; not Yoongi on Monday (hands shaking when he reaches for you- obviously showing signs of scenting withdrawal).

Taehyung on Tuesday (hardly able to meet your eyes through all of it) and Namjoon (jaw suspiciously tense, as if he wanted to ask about something but couldn’t).

Jungkook on Wednesday (holding onto you a little tighter than usual, who had begged for a few more minutes, which you’d easily given it. After which he'd followed you from room to room, meeting to meeting, like a lost puppy).

Or Seokjin (who had hardly wanted you to scent him at all, had just wanted to stuff you full of food and medication, feeling your forehead with an ‘aigoo, you’re still warm’)

During a meeting earlier, you finally saw Hoseok; he’d entered the meeting room, offered you nothing but a grimace and tip of his head in your direction, and kept on as if you weren't even there. It’s just how you used to be around each other, measured. Mostly quiet. Not saying anything or indicating any feelings of an overly familiar nature.

You don’t know why it left you feeling disappointed.

And then finally at the end of the day, it’s Jimin’s turn.

You fall asleep ten minutes in with him petting your hair. Soothed by the sound of his quiet humming, not really singing. There are no more awkward looks between all of you; all of the uncomfortableness has worn away after the first two days. But when you wake an hour later, he’s not singing anymore.

He’s just talking. You can’t help the way your body stiffens, but you hope he doesn’t know that you’re awake.

“I love being around you so much. I've been trying to find a reason for it- biology- the fact that you fit in with the pack so well- Whatever it is, I don't think you can help it. Sometimes it feels like everyone wants everything from us, but you just give and give and give like it's nothing when it's really everything to me."

This recording room is quiet, and the walls are close. It feels more like a closet, honestly, but here there’s no worry of being overheard or interrupted. It feels intimate in the way that the practice room often doesn’t. It’s just you and Jimin here. His lychee scent is sweet and fruity, but with an old note of sourness too.

Oh, Jimin had missed you, hadn’t he?

Somehow, you’ve never felt safer with the beta curling against your spine, spooning you, curled up to fit in the nest. You tucked to the side, away from the door. Even if someone came in, you doubt they’d be able to see you.

Jimin speaks the words so softly against your spine you almost think you’re imagining it. You know how Jimin is, that he's deceptively cautious around new people.

“I didn’t expect to like you so much when we first met. Maybe it’s just because I’m a beta and betas aren’t supposed to need scenting, but I can't ignore it anymore. I'm sorry."

You do not stir, you hardly move. Hardly breath. You feel it, him rubbing his mouth against the crown of your head, kind of a kiss. Kind of a nuzzle.

Jimin confesses softly. He's sort of rambling, repeating himself. “I hate it when you're gone, nothing felt right while you were away. I think I'm only scared because I didn’t expect to need you this much…To want you so much. I’m sensitive. I think it made me realize you’ll hurt me if you leave. I'd give you everything you want- and I think you could break my heart if you really wanted to- So please don't want to. I need you to promise me you’re not going to disappear again.”

And then even softer, he says, “I know you’re awake.”

Your breath does not come out as easily as you want. You struggle not to immediately hide when Jimin pulls away. He’s staring down at you, curled deep in the nest, his body bent over you. You’re absolutely cornered, the air warm and balmy from your nesting.

Jimin’s eyes are dark when you look up at him, aware that your shirt is rucked up. You think you remember him pressing his palms flat against the bare skin of your tummy. One of his hands is right by your waist, the hot skin of his wrist brushing your navel, making your breath hitch. You're aware of every inch of him that's touching you, the curl of his chest along your spine, the faint trail of his nose up your ear. The way his other hand is sort of cupping your head.

After a second, you open your eyes, already glassy, already filling with tears. Your voice sounds rough, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know that Hoseok had no idea Tae and I where going out. I thought Tae would have told him- I thought- I didn't mean to fuck it up so bad. But now Hobi hates me."

"Hey, hey hey, that's not what I meant-" Jimin's hand cradles the back of your skull, and the tears roll hot down your cheeks. You've sort of felt like you needed to cry since the end of your heat. It's cathartic. Jimin watches you, alarmed. "Why do you think Hobi hates you?"

"He wasn't in his bed with me when I woke up. I got Tae in trouble, he's mad at me because I made tae disobey, and- I thought he would have…" you trail off, and you feel like your reason is flimsy, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Something's off.

Jimin leans over your body, pressing his cheek against yours. Your eyes close, but the tears keep coming. You go still at the wet feeling of it. A tongue, his tongue- brushing your cheek. You stay put while he grooms you. tongue flicking out so gently you're almost convinced you're imagining it, cleaning you of your sadness. Your lower lip wobbles, and he doesn’t say anything at all until those tears have banished themselves to his tongue.

He doesn’t speak until he pulls away. Lips wet. “Tae likes to ask for forgiveness, not permission. He didn't think you'd react that way to seeing him get punished. He feels so guilty about it that he can't even let us kiss him. Hoseok keeps telling him it's not his fault, but his instincts just won't listen." Jimin grimaces. "It didn't help that you went silent."

The hair on the back of your arms is standing on end. So you weren't imagining that- that actually happened, you actually saw. You groan into your hands. Jimin's hands dig into your waist.

"I can scent you- you know, you don't have to freak out. It's normal. Tae's hot- if there's anyone who gets it- its me."

"I'm not freaking out because of Tae- I'm freaking out because it sent me into heat you dummy."

Jimin's petting goes still. And you peek through your hands. Is his smile devilish? "Oh-" you see it dawn on him. settling over him like a chill. His smile falling, "you went through it alone? By yourself? Without anyone?" You nod, and Jimin breathes in through his teeth. "Okay, before you tell anyone. I need you to promise me that you're never going to go through one alone again."

"Jimin I-"

"It is medically unsafe for an omega to go through a heat without an alpha or beta. You won't convince me otherwise so don't even try and argue."

"Minnie, I'm fine, I go through them every time on my own, and I have barely any incidents." Jimin grits his teeth. Lifts up the back of your hand to show you the bruise from your IV.

"Barely any is not none." his lower lip pinches into a frown. "I'd say you can spend it with anyone, so long as you're not alone, but we both know how that would go."

You laugh bitterly, "Hoseok would fucking freak."

"He'd be murderous. But I think you not talking to him would be the worst part of it"

You cover your face with your hands again and groan, "It's not that I didn't want to respond, I just couldn't." Jimin tries to get your hands away from your face and this time you let him. "I'm not freaking out- it's just a lot for me to process." Jimin continues to pet over your cheeks, down the side of your face.

“I'm still looking for a promise from you.”

Jimin’s hands thread through the nape of your neck, pulling your hair a bit. It’s reminiscent of another touch, a memory pushing at your mind, a memory you’re not sure is real or that you even should remember. Tae between Hoseok’s thighs, Hoseok’s hand in his hair, keeping him close. Even if you couldn’t see what was happening, you could certainly smell it. Knees weak at the tangible note of alpha arousal in the air. 

You think they’d go crazy if they knew it had sent you into heat, or that your heat lasted a lot longer than it should have. You’re a bit embarrassed about it. You got sent into heat just from sleeping in an alpha’s bed. Took his jacket home and rutted into it like some slutty pup out of a porno. Bit into it and gnawed at it until you left holes in the collar with your blunt little omega teeth.

You turn onto your back to look up at Jimin properly. You pull down the edge of your shirt, fussing with it, and Jimin watches the movement. Tipping his head to the side. His smile Patient and waiting.

“I promise.”

Jimin sinks low, lips brushing the crown of your head. "Keep going. Use your words.”

“I promise I won’t run away again- That I won't break your heart.”

"And?"

"-And if I go into heat again, I'll call you."

"Ah ah ah~" Jimin's voice is a purr.

"I'll call you and Hobi. If I go into heat again- I'll call you, and you can help me through it." 

“That's my girl, what a good pup.”

~-~

Notes:

when her knees almost touch his chest in my mind her brain is like 'breeding press? breeding press.' like i dont know how to express to you guys how much sensual that is in the hyb verse like- it's akin to touching someones ass or something?

when i was first writing this i didn't have a clear image in my head of what the jacket looked like- but hopefully you guys don't mind too much that i made the inside of it furry. i just love how it's like- polished on the outside, primal on the inside- kind of like hoseok's whole character.

also if it's not clear the m/c is like totally trying to goad him into losing control. she's literally such a little shit while she's drunk.

i think in the future- as per their rules, hoseok is the only one who gets to decide if she's allowed to drink, like she has to ask him if she's allowed to get drunk and has strict 'just tipsy' rule that she will get punished for if she goes over.

hoseok is so blinded by how much he wants her and prioritizing her safety that he's litterally ignoring her asking about taehyung and i just- i love a dumb man, i love a man whose so in love he gets stupid. that is very much the vibe of hobi.

it's worth mentioning that the m/c is in a better place with her physical health (she's masking her symptoms with a whole lot of medication), and the fact that she's finally around enough alpha's for her immune system to thrive. which is why she seems a little bit better- hoseok also has no idea about her past at this point- we are going to see the incident that lead to her telling him- but not for a few more chapters- all i can say is /oh jungkookie/ T-T

"i'm not shy, i'm controlled" you are so full of shit alpha like so so so full of shit.

i tried to be very careful editing this- because i think that the m/c and hobi are being equally handsy with each other in this-but like i think her subtly feeling up on him could read as uncomfortable- mind you he has grabed her waist and litterally carried her against her will multiple times in this chapter- so i think that maybe she's allowed. like- they're past the point where they're going to verbally ask each other 'can i touch you' at least for this chapter. the touch barrier has been very broken

idk if anyone caught it but! yoongi called her sweetheart :( there are echos of bily in every universe i write.

i lowkey think if she hadn't gotten out of there when she did that it would have triggered hoseok's rut and then they all would have been done for and she would have been pupped before the week was out. i do think their panic of a unintended pregancy would make for some /interesting dynamics/ but alas. it remains to be seen

so face slapping during sex is actually one of my 'absolutely not under any circumstances' but there's something about taehyung that just makes me want to slap him around a bit. ESPECIALLY with how he's been since the tour started.

nesthub...i feel like ive made this joke before and i just can't remember it BUT I'M LEAVING IT HERE.

A LITTLE EASTER EGG BUT- in their text conversation any time they are far away from getting the m/c's aproval- the timestamp numbers add up to 7- any time they are getting closer to the m/c they add up to 8 cuz 8 packmates

Hoseok resists every temptation. The others might be borderline overeager to get you into their practice room daily, and there are plans to have you accompany them on their premotions when they pick up. the others might take every available opportunity to see you outside of work hours. They take you to fancy dinners under the guise of making sure you're properly fed, a spa day here and there, a reward because you deserve it, shopping just to get to know you.

They just want to be good employers they say but the truth is deeper than that. To be people you rely on, to project the image of a pack you might want to be part of- they'll have to work at it. Every pack must work to properly attract an omega these days, even them as famous as they are. There are so few, especially so few that they meet in their line of work.

How much would they need to have to get you? A house and a collection of fancy cars? Or would it take a grammy and a wall of awards? A diamond collar and a penthouse somewhere?

The others might be convinced the pack is ready, but Hoseok is not so easily swayed. Hoseok is still wary; Hoseok has his reservations. For a very good reason…

He’s reluctant to engage with you. Keeping his hellos quick and short. His bows are deep but brief. Polite. Every movement is crisp and not an inch too close. He side eyes Yoongi and Namjoon when they start to customize the omega nests in their studios, even more when jackets and clothes go missing. When they come out of their studios smelling happy and sated in a way that Hoseok still isn’t used to. Eyes heavy-lidded, hands and throats smelling of sweet omega. Delicate omega. Beloved omega.

Hoseok’s omega, a hidden desperate voice says. A ridiculous voice that Hoseok tells himself does not make any of his decisions and is not in control of any of his actions. Of course not. It would be ridiculous for Hoseok, the pack alpha of the most popular pop group in the world, to give in to his instincts.

Hoseok doesn't even admit it to himself how much he wants you, not even when he pins the others to the wall after he’s seen your name on their schedule. Sniffing down the column of their throats, lapping at the berry scent all but dripping off of them. Trusted teeth t their throats, nibbling at their wrists, nosing and rutting through their hair for a whiff of your scent. This is what omegas do to alphas- they make them possessive and addicted, controlling and dependent.

Some of the packmates make it easy, others give Hoseok hell for his behavior. Remaining perfectly polite in public, so detached the pack is sure you don't even know about Hoseok's fixation, and…honestly filthy in private. Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin hardly tease, just look down at him with sly smiles on their faces, knowing, but allow his hunger to go unremarked upon.

But Tae and Yoongi and Jungkook make it fun, pushing back just to force Hoseok into that headspace. They fight until Hoseok pins them, squirm until he nips at their throats and growls in warning. Lift their heads and glare at him with those stupidly cute smirks on their face until Hoseok reminds them why he's pack alpha.

And why they're waiting. After a few months, almost all of their late-night conversations revolve around you.

The pack is used to the pack alpha getting this way around rut season (but neglects to point out that it’s months and months away, too early to be it). This is something different. This transcends Hoseok's self-control. Even when Hoseok doesn’t give in and lick your scent from them, his jealous rages.

And it only gets Harder and harder to hide.

Hoseok is very, very aware of the whispered complaints from management. The less hidden snide comments that get met with a perfectly worded reply that leaves the perpetrator wondering if Hoseok is really an enemy they want to have. Any time anyone dares to say something even slightly critical of his pack’s needs, Hoseok is unrelenting. Hoseok is their fortress.

Usually, they’re not bold enough to say anything to his face, but even he can’t help what he overhears.

It's two managers- one for Le Seraphim and the other for a pre-debut group, scheduled for announcement near the end of the quarter. You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with them recently. Hoseok doesn't mind the girls; they're polite as they should be.

At least one hour a day is dedicated to them because they're all under so much stress. Every time you leave them, you look more and more tired. Hoseok knows you're scenting all of them at once, quickly, before management notices. But it's against your contract and everything he knows about Omegas.

Most omegas get overwhelmed if they have to scent even 4 or 5 people that aren't in their pack a day. Their scents spiking wildly, uncontrollably, let alone this new group of 9 (probably 7, Hoseok knows the look of two of them- they just won't make the cut- they don't have what it takes.)

It’s a painful reminder every time he sees their name on your schedule and a bit of a slap in the face to Hoseok. Every time he's forced to remember that you're not theirs. Not officially. Not yet.

So maybe Hoseok tells the pack to be selfish with your time, to book out your time slots regardless of whether they need a scenting or not. Filling your hours with meaningless little dates when you could be scenting them. Naps in studio spaces or quiet requests for your help with something simple, like your opinion on outfits or aesthetics- to get an omegan perspective. Anything to give you an adequate chance to take a breather.

Hoseok only wants to make sure you're getting proper rest. at least that's what he tells himself.

Hoseok is moving from the meeting room to the studio (approvals on merch that needed his and Namjoon’s final okay) to a studio where a mildly distressed Seokjin probably needs his help. The new song is just an octave out of Jin’s comfort zone, all routine, all normal.

That’s what Hoseok thinks of when he comes to a screeching halt at the sound of your name. This interruption is anything but ordinary. The door to another meeting room on the 6th floor is cracked, one seldom used by the artists but commonly occupied by staff.

Maybe an ordinary alpha might not hear it, but Hoseok's always had exceptionally good hearing.

He pauses in his near-silent footsteps, recognizing the too casual way the two managers are talking and the hush to their voices as something salacious. The secrets can't help but slip through the open door and onto Hoseok’s waiting ears.

Hoseok moves quietly, his feet hardly making a sound on the carpet floor. Every ounce of him is an alpha trained to hunt. To detect threats to his pack. A hidden voice- Hoseok's alpha, reminds him that everything but the pack is a threat to Hoseok's omega.

"-They're hogging her. I don't care if they're eligible for a Grammy or a fucking Nobel peace prize. We didn't hire her to be their omega." The whisper of the beta’s voice is a pitched down. Unpleasant in it's nasality.

There’s the hiss of paper shuffling, an understanding and agreeable scoff. "I just don’t know what you expect me to do about it- I'll say something to Namjoon if you really want me too, or would you rather I say something to Jung Hoseok?"

His reaction is startled, almost hasty. "No no no, there's no reason to involve their pack alpha in this." Hidden by the shadows, Hoseok smiles. It's more of a bearing of teeth. Even not present, Hoseok's name commands respect and fear. Even quiet- he’s dangerous.

"He's sort of…scary sometimes."

Hoseok doesn’t mind being feared, might prefer it actually- if it means that his pack remains unhalted and unbothered. If it means you get to sleep where you want to sleep and nest where you want to nest. Hoseok is always keeping track of you. Watchful when you duck out of one of the meeting rooms with Taehyung and Jungkook, looking half asleep in a way that just won’t do.

Hoseok initially intended to make sure they didn't skip lunch, but now his presence is much more important.

You weren't in a session with them, but even when you're not booked, you have the habit of hanging around the pack. Gravitating to them almost naturally. An original condition of your contract with Hybe is that you were allowed to nest where you want to when you're not booked for a scenting session with someone, but there's no question of where you'll be and whose pack is most likely to be occupying your time.

Whenever anyone asks where you are in his presence, the whole company's first instinct is to look to the pack to answer that question.

Hoseok's alpha purrs every time he notices it, begging you to come a little closer, the way a wolf might stay still until a rabbit hops between its paws. The image isn't incorrect, but the truth is that Hoseok is not the alpha in the pack you're closest to. Not in the slightest.

That honor is reserved for Jungkook, and by default- jimin and taehyung.

Maybe it's just because you're closest in age to them, but there's hardly a day that you're not giggling about some video that they sent you, or wearing one of taehyung's extra large sweatshirts, a pretty bracelet of Jimin's dangling on your wrist because you'd said it was pretty and he insisted.

But you with Jungkook is another sight entirely. When he giggles you perk up, you blush at the sight of him coming close. Scent going warm and flustered whenever he takes off his shirt during practice or flashes the mirrors in body rolls. Your interest noticeable even from afar.

Hoseok hates it. Hates feeling jealous. Only barely resists the urge to snap at Jungkook whenever he picks up that you're flirting. It's ridiculous because Hoseok loves Jungkook. Jungkook is his pup, the one who reaches for him when the late nights burn low and his body aches, when there's that line of tension in his body that just won't quit, when Jungkook- like the others needs what only their pack alpha can provide.

It's hoseok's own damn fault for being so cautious.

About once a day, he’s reminded that he still hasn’t booked a session with you yet, still hasn’t gotten any more than this. Hoseok’s alpha paces the confines of his mind, waiting for the right moment to strike and gather you up.

And in the meantime, human Hoseok yearns.

He watches you from behind as you walk with Tae and Jungkook. Your first session of the day was with Jungkook (he's happy, Hoseok can smell the joy dripping off him even if he couldn't see it. Koo bouncing on his feet, body still obviously humming from his scenting session) and your second with Tae (prowling, quiet as usual, obviously needing rest. Tae always sleeps like the dead after your scenting session).

But you- you're cute. Wobbly and sleepy between the two of them. First coming up to rub your eye. Hoseok can smell the muted exhaustion on you; you're honestly dead on your feet. Hoseok wants to snap and growl at that. Are you too tired to walk? Should he offer to carry you? No, that would be ridiculous- that would be-

You sway as you walk, one step taking you close to Jungkook, the next closer to Taehyung. Hoseok trails behind. Eyes on the way that your shoulders brush each of theirs. Relaxing just a little bit when Taehyung (not Jungkook) sets his hand on the small of your back at a polite height.

You lean into Tae's casual touch (a little bit better than the way you'd let your fingers brush Kookies seconds prior). Obviously indulging in the warm splay of his fingers, the firmness of his grip on your waist as it slides to the side. Hoseok knows he must feel steady.

Hoseok watches you look up at Tae's face, fixated. jealousy twisting in his gut. You look at him like you know that if you lean into him, Tae will keep you upright. So trusting. so indulgent you don't even notice tae stare back. doing a double take when he catches you watching.

Tae pokes your nose; you go a little cross-eyed trying to look at it. Jungkook laughs and nuzzles into the ball of your shoulder. they cordinate between the two of you, walking like a many legged animal. a stalfmemeber has to press themselves flat to a wall as they pass. about to say something in hello until they spot hoseok.

and promptly duck into the nearest room rather than distrub them.

hoseok grins, behind the three of you- unseen.

“You still look a little out of it.” taehyung says, jogging hoseok's concentration.

You pout, swatting his hand away. “I’m not,” you say, but even to Hoseok it sounds petulant and bratty.

“Stay close to us,” Jungkook says, and you nod, obedient without challenging it.

(You've heard it all from alpha's before. Stay close to us. I want you and only you. I'd give you everything. But somehow you wonder why it feels different when it's these alphas, why it makes your blood heat and hum.)

Hoseok is unrelenting later at practice. Jungkook and Tae just share looks behind his back, knowing. Aware. If Hoseok won't give in to his instincts on his own, the rest of the pack will do their best to give him an incentive.

Hoseok will do anything to be feared if it means he sneaks up on you and Jimin napping.

Your legs slung over his knees, comfortable fabric pulling up to reveal inches of goosebump ladened skin. Jimin’s hand rests. under the leg of your pants, fingers wrapped around your ankle. clutching it in his sleep like a child might hold the leg of a stuffed animal. three sets of shoes lie in a haphazard pile, discarded at the edge of the nest. Heads together and hair colors mixing with how close your heads are nestled.

Beta's don’t need much, but Jimin has been so tired recently, stressed about the choreography just like Hoseok is. A scenting is just what he needs. Jimin presses up against you.

both of you are slung over Seokjin. Limbs tangling. The betas don’t get quite as territorial over your scenting sessions and often elect to do them together (if only to free up more of your time for the others). Seokjin’s not sleeping, curled around you and tapping away at a game on his phone.

You doze, chin hooked over his elbow. Pressing forward to watch him, giggling at the actions of the avatar on the screen, and Seokjin’s quiet narration. The occasional "yah don't do that" and the way he pauses when he loses or reaches the next level, hand brushing over the top of your head, playing with your hair for a second when he asks if you're ready for a nap.

"I already had one today." You say, sounding small. Jin hums, unconvinced. Your eyelids flutter, looking heavy. Hoseok bets you have minutes before you're out. Every laugh makes Jimin move a little. He looks so young like that, curled over you, nosing into the nape of your neck, hiding from the lights with his hood up.

Hoseok will do anything, will stay away from you forever. If he gets to see you jumping from couch to couch in Yoongi’s studio, socked feet slipping, your chatter at a 200 tempo like the rap track drowning out the sound of your commentary. (Hoseok's never met a person whose voice made him want to turn the music down).

You're Hyperactive from the empty coffee that Namjoon made sure to mix half with decaf (caffeine isn’t good for omega’s, you’d probably be mad if you knew he kept you from it, but they can’t help it). And Omega's are naturally a little more active once the sun goes down.

Namjoon has his hand up and is waiting for you to need him to steady you. Namjoon's dimples seem to have permanently etched themselves into his face because he just can't stop smiling. Hoseok’s never seen you with so much energy. Socked feet depressing the leather of the couches.

Hoseok watches from a rolly chair as you hop from couch to couch, Namjoon’s hands out to hold you should you fall, grabbing your waist and doing just that when you say. “This one makes me want to spin!” giggling when Namjoon holds your waist and just does that. Yoongi giggles, gums showing. Hoseok watches him and finds himself smile back.

When Namjoon puts you down, you set your hands on the back of Hoseok's chair, over his sweatshirt that he always keeps there. should he get cold- should someone else need it.

Hoseok watches your hands tangle it.

"Can you show me more?"

"More music?" He questions, quriking an eyebrow at you.

"Anything." He turns away, but your hands stay on the back of his chair. Hoseok is careful to turn slowly, so that you have something to keep you steady. Omegas are just as physically capable as alphas, can run marathons (under medical supervision) and he knows you have plans to work out with Jungkook. But Hoseok still would never dream of making you unsteady.

Hoseok will become the most feared alpha in the industry if that’s what it takes. To keep this balance. Not quite packmates, not quite coworkers. But a third, worse thing.

Friends- definitely friends. Hoseok protects his friends. He guards his important people with his life. You are the most important person in the pack’s orbit these days. (Pack alphas don’t know how to do anything in half measures.) Hoseok won’t let anything happen to you.

Their next album breaks several records, and that promise feels less and less like posturing, more like a fact. Even when he’s alone, even without the pack, he draws a hush to every room he enters. The tick of his head earns apologies, his smile a bow. Hoseok is right where he wants to be.

There’s no one to compare them to, and he knows it. Everyone does. There isn’t a single more eligible pack for an omega in the country- one better poised to take one on in a more permanent basis. All that they would have to do is contact an omega placement agency in the city, and they'd have omega's clamoring to submit applications.

They even get more than a few personal and private messages from omegas on the prowl. Content creators and well-known fans. It's a regular discussion among the fans about which omega they'll choose and yet…

 Hoseok resists the pull of his biology.

The others ask after you during practice time, quietly satisfied when you choose the very, very comfortable nest (that Yoongi might have fortified so that you could lean against the edges) during their scheduled practice time.

They've had long hours in there recently. Hoseok doesn't like it, but their newfound success necessitates that they be perfect in every way. Their careers feel like they’re only going up and up and up and show no sign of slowing down. Every foot and elbow needs to be perfect. Hoseok already thinks they're perfect- but it's the rest of the world and it's harsh critics that Hoseok is worried about.

From a very practical standpoint, there's simply no time to court anyone, let alone to do it well.

The pack is going to nail the next song, Hoseok can feel it. He's a good pack alpha but inside the practice room, he's a little bit of a slave driver. He's always measuring their condition, pausing for water breaks, and checking ankles and knees, tilting Jin's hips this way. Running it through, and then circling back to the more difficult moves again and again until their bodies know the movements with their eyes closed.

"No. That's mistimed, is foot hand finger, step back- side down. like that- good pup. Do it again. Good."

Hoseok is used to this- Pushing them by the back of the neck when they stretch. Dictating the pulse of their bodies the way that only a pack alpha can. Work time is different than pack time, and Hoseok is uncompromising with this in taking care of his pack and making sure that they show the world their best.

Each of them is equally as motivated to reach up and up and up and take their fame and performance and music as far as it will go. A height that Hoseok takes them to. Pack alphas lead, and Hoseok will take his pack to the stars.

But things are different now. Now there is a separate factor.

When you're nesting in their practice room, Head perched on the padded velvet edge of the deep side walls to watch them practice, it’s harder for Hoseok to be quite so scary. It’s difficult to be hard on his pack with you watching them, the scent of sweet berries in the air, and Hoseok feels like he’s under a microscope.

He tracks you in the corner of his vision, with your wide eyes and cutely flushed face from rubbing your cheeks against the maple story plush that Jin got you that gets toted from nest to nest. (Or maybe Jin just got you one for each of your nests?) Mouth carved into a perfect little 'oh' when they get the choreography just right. Clapping softly when they've finished. Whispering softly, "again." In a way that has each of them falling into position without a second thought.

Practice goes smoother with you there. They get the choreography quicker when they've got you to perform for.

Hoseok hasn’t commented on it because he doesn’t want to deal with the pack’s teasing, and any time he asks about you or your schedule (is the company giving you adequate breaks in-between sessions?) How you looked during your session (Are you too tired to work? Should they be letting you rest more frequently? Should Hoseok petition the company to move you from a 4-day work week to a 3-day work week?) He gets knowing looks from his packmates.

"wouldn't you like to know alpha." jimin singsongs, hoseok just pushes at his shoulder until he's pinned. the snap of his teeth playful but threatening.

The pack is sneaky; they'd noticed the very first time you attended a practice session that Hoseok wasn't as likely to push indiscriminately and was more inclined to make his requests honey-toned and soft. “If you move like that, you’ll hurt your knee, pup.” "Tell me what you did wrong."

now they invite you to every practice. hoseok noticed when he checked your schedule online. the digital portal where everyone else books you out for time, scenting sessions in red, your presence requested to 'settle the air' in blue. and every day- in the afternoon after lunch. an hour or two blocked out for them.

An hour or two that often has them all scurrying to change their shirts or do their hair, dotting concealer and grabbing drinks and snacks. That always leads to this- Hoseok's razor like focus and you behind them. always fucking watching.

"Joon-ah- you're in your head again." The pack fall still at Hoseok's voice. Choreography stuttering to a halt.

"I'm just worried, when I spin it's like- so hard not to look stiff."

"If we make sure to milk your knot before each performance it wouldn't happen."

There's no one but you 8 here in this room. Hoseok holds his breath and counts to seven, and by the time he's opened his eyes, Tae's already been scolded, rubbing his arm. Jin closes his hand around his wrist.

"What'd you do that for?" Jin just smiles, grin perfectly civil. Eyes flickering in your direction just once. A silent way of saying 'not in front of the pup.'

You stir in your nest, maybe at just the mention of knotting. Shoulders shifting under the duvet that blocks most of your body, curled into as small a ball as the nest will allow. Resettling with your elbows lying flat across the nest edge. Resting your chin on your hands as the metronome music pumps. You probably couldn't hear Tae over the sound, Hoseok elects to believe.

The alternative might be too scary for you.

The last thing Hoseok wants to do is scare you off. Even if milking Namjoon's knot until he goes boneless and dumb is something that happens once a week minimum (Hoseok just considers it packmate maintenance like studio hookups for Yoongi and kneeling sessions for jungkook, or the ropes that often get bruised into Jimin's skin when the pack has time and privacy. Everyone has their thing, and everyone gets what they need in the pack)

It's just probably for the best if you don't know about that yet.

Hoseok shakes his head, goes closer to Namjoon as he mimics the move, tilting his shoulders, his spine. Namjoon moves, obedient. Cheeks flushed, and Hoseok can tell he's thinking about it from the vaguely musky edge to his scent. His usual tomato leaf scent is earthier, grungier. Hoseok's next words are a purr that only tells the other alpha. Later. If you'll be good.

"If you look stiff I'll tell you. Leave the worrying up to me." He sneaks a peck against the nape of Namjoon's neck. the alpha's shoulders fall slack just a little.

In the nest, you wiggle a little. Shivering.

but then he's right back at it again. "No- this isn't right, we can't do this choreo every night, not if we're touring. We need to find a safer alternative. Like i'm trying to be calm about it but- if Tae bangs his chin again doing the fall to push up i'm not going to be able to be cool about it." “Not like that, bah bah bah, yes, good. Exactly like that. I want you to show me that every time. Again.”

It might be just your scent on the air that tames him, or maybe that he doesn’t want to think he’d be too demanding of an alpha to tolerate.

At least not to you.

To you, Hoseok would give everything your little heart desires. You’d never have to tolerate moving so much, not from room to room, no. You’d never have anyone herding you or snapping at you to stay on schedule. The polite but vaguely annoyed staff member who often has to come into the room halfway through practice to rouse you would be the first thing to change.

It’s something that has the alphas sharing looks as you yawn and nod, allowing them to pull you out of your nest via your outstretched hand. Looking completely asleep one second and wide awake the next- all wrong, an omega should wake up slowly (preferably with an orgasm too- although that’s not polite to comment) to do it do abruptly could be dangerous, could lead to a predicament that no one wants; an omega dysregulated, an omega upset.

Hoseok just tightens his hands and clenches his teeth and watches you leave in the mirror, close enough that he could reach out and touch your reflection. calling out your goodbyes and i'll see you later as you go.

"Text me." Jungkook asks with a wink. And you nod shyly, chin tipped down, looking at him for a singular long moment before you continue out of the room. Your manager watching and waiting expectantly.

The others hate it when you leave, and Hoseok is turned back into a slave driver, merciless and uncompromising. Even more stubborn and off-kilter than normal. He knows that they can do this, what they can be. Hoseok’s pups are good pups.

Rarely, if ever, do they disobey.

Hoseok would never confess how much he doesn’t like it. The way that they have to share you. The way Hoseok has to share you.

~-~

But having you in the practice room doesn't always work in the pack's favor; sometimes it bites them in the but, like when Jungkook gets a bit too energetic when roughhousing with Taehyung and Jimin.

The beta already has a bruised knee, an unfortunate accident involving slippery socks and the new choreo. Hoseok and Jin fussed over him long enough yesterday, took him to the doctor just to be sure.

A leg brace was ordered, and really, Jimin hadn't seemed to be in too much pain. Had said he didn't even really need the brace earlier today, and listened when Hoseok pressed a kiss to the joint and told him he'd be wearing it for the rest of the week anyway.

You'd rushed over to him this morning, first thing. Both of you still in the lobby, too close to the windows not to draw the potential eyes of paparazzi. But Hoseok didn't have the heart to tell you to be careful, your worried eyes almost teary. Mindlessly gripping the front of Jimin's sweatshirt and hugging him around his waist. Jimin looked better already. Cooing at you and telling you that your hugs are medicine enough.

But none of them are strangers to injuries. Hoseok fears the day that they just don't heal right. The day that someone hurts something too far. Yoongi already did that once, and the next time the pack might not be that lucky.

But today is not that day.

Everyone's treating Jimin gently because of it, everyone but Jungkook. he tends to be riled up unless they work it out of him. Sometimes the pack teases him for needing so much… exercise. But it's all in good fun.

Sometimes, Jungkook lets his need for dominance play out during work hours. Bothering Jimin until the beta quiets him with a look, something that doesn't always work when Jungkook's feeling bratty. Looking for a punishment and knowing that Jimin is a safe place to look for that.  Hoseok doesn't always need to do the discipline there, just like with Tae and Jin. Sometimes, Hoseok trusts Seokjin and Yoongi to do the discipline for him.

Jungkook and Jimin are especially close in the pack; Hoseok has never once felt insecure about it- if anything, it's only an asset during times like these when Hoseok has too many things on his plate. They naturally gravitate towards each other. Hassling each other until someone thinks to put them both in their place.

Hoseok's not worried about it because Taehyung seems to be taking that job today, grabbing Jungkook's hip when he picks up Jimin and instead of obeying his reply to put him down- Tosses the beta over his shoulder just a little bit too aggressively, Jungkook still has a good grip on his legs, but Jimin is stationary one second and then- looped around Jungkook’s shoulder the next.

Jungkook pushes, and Tae goes sprawling on the floor, giggling as he goes, reaching for Jungkook's legs. He's still holding Jimin. The beta crying, "Put me down!" only to be willfully ignored.

Jungkook turns to you, winks, and says, "hyung will never admit it but he likes it."

You giggle, eyes following them. Namjoon sits close to your nest, watching them too with a fond smile. Leaning up against the edge and tipping his head to whisper something to you conspiratorially. Glistening. Hoseok watches you watch Namjoon as he talks, your eyes trailing the damp and glistening column of his throat, the sweat there. Rubbing your nose against the edge of the nest. Hiding a little.

All in all, not that abnormal roughhousing. Hoseok even smiles at it.

Omegas hide when they're shy. When they're feeling things that are too big for their body. Hoseok's alpha demands that he hoist you out of your nest and sniff out the nature of your shyness. If it needs a settling or perhaps something less innocent.

Something tells him that if you stood up, he'd be able to smell the telltale whiff of slick between your thighs. He imagines how warm you get under there in the nest where things are soft and still- warm and sticky. You shift sometimes as if you ache somewhere- hoseok knows it. He doesn't know how he knows but he does.

But part of him wants to take Namjoon by the hair and let you lick him. It's a weird image. A little gross. But the twist of want is still there, insistent and heavy in Hoseok's gut.

But your desires are clearly not as hard to ignore as Hoseok's are. You look at Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae roughhousing. They do it so often, the affection in it so practiced, that it almost looks like a choreography of its own. Jimin pinches and Jungkook slaps his ass, looking up at him, tousled hair undone- but falling curly from the dampness. Jungkook steps without looking down at Tae.

All it takes is one misplaced step.

Jungook's foot slides too close to Tae's hand, and the alpha hisses, yanking his hand away a second too late to avoid pain. It's not that bad, but Jungkook moves, momentum off.

You're watching them with a fond smile until you're not. Scent spiking, Fear trickling in and pushing away the comfort.

Tae grabs one of Jungkook's ankles and his center of gravity shifts. Jimin teeters and Jungkook's grip on his legs slips. He slides almost right off Jungook's shoulder. Face-first, face down. Stopping less than a foot from the floor.

You see it happen, sitting up a little. Almost picking yourself up and out of your nest. Like you could get across the room quick enough to stop it from happening. The blanket around your shoulders flops to the floor with a quiet rustle of fabric.

Hoseok’s head snaps up with whip-like accuracy.

"The three of you. Here. Now."

He points to the floor in front of him. Jungkook very carefully puts Jimin down on his own two feet. Taehyung sits up from his spot on the floor to help him. Once they're all safely on two legs, they scurry over, already hanging their heads. Semi contrite.

Seokjin and Namjoon descend on you with snacks and water. Yoongi scoops your blanket up from the floor in seconds. Shushing you back into the nest. But the scent of fractious omega is acrid. Smarting. Hoseok cannot stop himself from barking. “What are you thinking?”

“We where just-“ “I didn’t mean to-”

Jungkook keeps glancing back at you, his own scent dulling with worry. Until Hoseok takes his chin in one hand, fingers pinching his cheeks as the pack alpha makes him look at him. “Don’t look at her, look at me.” Then, softer, but still just as stern. “You know better, Jungkook-ah.”

Hoseok takes them over his lap for that. If there had been even one manager in the room, Hoseok wouldn't have. The matter is too private for work hours. But it's just them and you here.

You should see it. See how he is. See what he's like.

Hoseok's alpha purrs worse than that. There’s only one thing that fixes an unsettled omega. A settling. A spanking. Whatever you'd want to call it. Most omegas get at least one a day; some health agencies even recommend it. Just as maintenance, just to help them go down into omegaspace.

For most omegas, a daily spanking is nothing more than a reminder that their alphas are there, they care, and however small and little they go, however much they need, their alphas will always provide.

He'd give you one, albeit gentler than the one he’ll give his pack. You might not even squeal or fuss. All at once, the idea of you here- bent over the edge of the nest, or preferably his knees, head tipped to the side, the picture of submissive contrition. Taking all of it just like the others fills his head, so intoxicating and pervasive that for a second, Hoseok has to look away from all of them.

But the rational side of Hoseok thinks you should see what you're getting yourself into at least. Hoseok wants you to see what good control he has over his pack; how good they can be with the right motivation.

Hoseok's alpha says that you need a settling too. But luckily, he has just as good control over himself as he does the rest of the pack.

You watch them and their squirming with pink cheeks, so unused to watching any alphas discipline each other that it has you mesmerized. Hoseok might be smaller than Jungkook- but he's far stronger. Jungkook strains and fights, tattoos warping with the flex of his muscles. But Hoseok hardly has to work to pin him to the practice room floor.

You push away Jin's water and Namjoon’s bag of sweets, and you know omegas who eat after chirping avoid dropping. Already, you feel sort of shaky. But you hardly care about that when you have a show going on. You crane your neck when Jungkook starts to push up against Hoseok with a snarl.

But Hobi just slings a leg over the back of Jungkook’s thighs, both wrists pinned to the small of his back in a single loop of Hoseok's hands- delicate, beautiful hands. Jungkook’s cheek pressed to the practice room floor. Lips parted in a very loud snarl that cuts off with a loud squeak when Hoseok's other hand finally descends with a swat.

Over the clothes, not under.

You gulp and hide your gaze below the edge of the nest again, but you do not look away. You can tell your scent is getting heady, that it’s sweetening as you watch. But you’ve never had very good control over your scent.

Hoseok looks so…placid, calm. The utter depiction of gentle domination as he holds a squirming alpha under his body and gives him what he needs. You even see him smile. Like Jungkook's fighting back pleases him.

You can see the moment that Jungkook gives in, a little more than halfway through his settling. Something tight is stirring in your chest as he stops fighting to get out and starts to push back just to feel Hoseok there.

You watch Hoseok’s hands more than anything, the way that they smooth down Jungkook’s spine, not even holding his hands through the last of it. jungkook lies pliant- obedient, without him holding Jungkook down. Hoseok's other hand slides from the small of Jungkook's spine to the nape of his neck, threading through his hair in a gentle but domineering caress.

Jungkook stays where he should, eyes a little glassy, picking himself up just as quickly and turning, blocking Hobi from view.

Namjoon tries once again to feed you, but fails when you shake your head. bite pressed to your mouth. You’re not even listening to his quiet croons and delicate prods. The whole exchange takes maybe 30 seconds. And then Jungkook is up, and Jimin is shuffling over, with a single nervous glance back in your direction.

He locks eyes with you, and they darken just a little.

Jin’s hand is on your chin, guiding you to suck. You blink owlishly but follow his direction. The water is bland. Somewhere on the back of your throat, you taste it- blood and mangos- Hoseok’s scent settling over you- pervasive and all-consuming. You can taste his dominance in the air.

Jimin goes less easy, squirming, trying to lift his head to look at you again- Only to have his head forced down by Hoseok’s touch. He goes easiest on Jimin, since he was sort of the victim, sort of only a fixture in the disobedience. He'll get a punishment regardless. Hoseok’s instincts don't have rules that way sometimes. 

Deep down, both of them know Hoseok’s not punishing them for the roughhousing- it's for startling their omega almost out of their nest. Nesting is sacred. A right. Protected. Nothing the alphas do should ever get you out of it. It's wrong. Goes against every single one of Hoseok's instincts.

But none of them will say it- not here. Not with you in earshot. The confession might have the same effect, might make you unsettled.

Hoseok looks at Jimin, but he's not really talking to him, not until the last sentence. "You are precious. You are mine. I expect you to be more careful with my things." Jimin nods, lower lip wobbling, head tipping down, submissive in his whole posture. Hoseok noses from his chin to his temple, teeth catching on his ear and the dangly earring there, Jimin's hitch of breath is telling. but after a second- the beta nods. agreeing.

Jimin tilts his head to your nest, and hoseok threads a hand through his hair, tugging.

Hoseok's tone leaves no room for doubt or disobedience. As if he expects the world to stop and obey. It’s frightfully easy to do just that. To stop and follow.

"Settle."

Your legs feel like jelly, and you don't think you could stand even if you wanted to. Your head feels warm and fuzzy, your body heavy as you go lax. between your thighs, heat stirs, and you feel yourself go warm and damp.

Hoseok's nostrils flare, but he doesn't look up as he begins again. Hand up, about to fall again, powerful arm flexing-

A pair of dark pants obscures your view. Slowly. Carefully. You look up.

Half of Yoongi's face is obscured by the light, a gentle but knowing smirk on his face. "Someone’s curious."

His tone is teasing, but serious. You avert your gaze. Squeaking out a "Sorry." That you don't mean.

He laughs a little, not his normal laugh, deeper and throatier. Not quite teasing. It makes your stomach feel funny.

"It's alright."

His eyes appraise you, eyes flickering up and down your body. The way the blanket is pinned beneath your knees. The subtle haze to your eyes. Next to you, Namjoon’s perched on the edge of the nest, softly petting over your head and to the top of your spine. Let go of you now that your concentration has shifted from Hoseok to Yoongi.

He doesn’t look uneasy even though you can scent it on him, hands in his pockets, the picture of control as he appraises you, not in a way that ascribes value or hunger, but a special secret third thing that you can't place.

Delight. Yoongi is delighted that you're watching. That you're enjoying it.

"Do you want me to get into the nest with you, pup?"

All it takes is your puppy eyes and a "please," and he's there. Warm body, strong and capable. His tone is the same no-nonsense intonation that Hoseok uses as he guides you to sit forward so that he can sit behind you. grumbling something you don't hear about curious little oemgas being his soft spot. You're not listening.

Is it your job to listen to their commands? Your job to get up and out of the room to give them privacy? It's so easy to just let them decide what you can see, let them say things and do as they say? Any responsibility feels very far away, at the edge of your consciousness fuzzy and warm, any worry just as distant.

If you're behaving wrong, acting wrong, alpha will punish you. it's as simple as that. Something drops in your stomach, a swooping feeling. but it's okay because Yoongi is there.

Yoongi tells you to drink your water. Feeds you little sips of it when you don't move to take it from him quickly enough. "Open up. Swallow. Small sips, what a cute messy pup we've got here, Good omega." You're pliant and obedient. Lips parting to take the water, pink tongue pressing.

A drop of water carves its way down your chin, and Namjoon reaches out to wipe it away. You don't react to either of their babying. You just sit in Yoongi's lap and take it, a faraway look in your eyes, gaze still trained on Hoseok. Yoongi's hands lie flat on your thighs, holding you still, keeping you secure.

If this is what you're like at a tiny show of dominance...they're going to have their hands full with you. 

Jin looks at you with wonder, an unbidden look of adoration in his eyes, reaching out to caress the side of your face. An omega in omegaspace. it's a special thing. very few alphas ever get to take care of an omega in omega space. Your scent- normally sweet and addicting on the air goes nearly ambrosic.

Your scent spikes so sweet, and you tilt your body to get more of the affection. Letting out a needy small sound. Still in Yoongi's lap, struggling to stay where he puts you and push into the touch. you wobble and whine, eyes suddenly teary.

Yoongi looks, lips pursed. And Jin's hand falls. "Hold up, I hardly have her. I think one at a time, don't wanna give her too much." who knows what you'll interpret as a command in this state.Jin's hand falls, and his gaze, fixated, hardly blinking like he doesn't want to miss a second of it.

His arm stays settled around your waist, keeping you in place. Rubbing simple circles to soothe you against the squishy side of your hip. You let him, aware that some physical contact from an alpha is what you need following something distressing. It's just biology, it's just them being good employers and good friends, really.

Hoseok lands several swats across Jimin's behind. The beta huffs, not a sound of indignation or displeasure, but a bitten intake of breath that leads to squirming, sagging against his hold after the first or second, and giving into the punishment until he grows teary-eyed and apologetic.

It takes a lot of his self-control, but Hoseok doesn't glance up at you once until the end, landing the final swat over jimin's behind before he pulls him up by the hair for a kiss. He glances up at you as he brings his hand down in an arc, the blow cushioned by the beta's pants.

You don't flinch. Eyes fluttering closed. Hoseok doesn't let himself drink down your flushed face; he just continues to the task at hand. Taehyung sets himself over Hoseok's knees, kicking his feet and grinning. Hoseok grabs one of his ankles and yanks it, not all that gently, drinking in the hitch of his breath. "Don't make me go hard on you pup." He warns.

"Sorry Alpha."

"Count."

You peek over Yoongi’s arm, still squirming, and the alpha shushes you, hand to the back of your head, keeping you close to his beating heart. He doesn't stop you from looking again, just pets the top of your head mindlessly until it's over. After a second, another hand joins the petting, and then another and another and another until you can't tell who's touching you.

One hand massaging the nape of your neck, mindlessly stroking over the top of your hair, another down your spine, another over your arm and down to your hand, loosely tangled with someone's shirt, perched on the side of the nest. Jin's? jungkook's? You can't tell.

It’s all normal and routine for a pack alpha to punish their packmates this way. You wouldn't do it infront of your parents, but you might do it in front of a friend. The polite thing would be not to stare.

But for some reason, you find you can’t look away.

~-~

At the end of the day no one addresses it. You falling into omegaspace around them. so pretty and easily that you'd fallen asleep on yoongi for the rest of the day, head resting against his throat, hand tangled in the front of his shirt like you're worried about him leaving you. you hadn't even been all there when you'd woken up and yoongi and jin and hoseok took you home. Jin walked you up to your apartment and got you inside safely while yoongi and hoseok waited for him outside.

They hadn't said anything to each other then or after. Returning home to a quiet but nervous house. Deciding individually that they won't bring it up to you again. Won't ask about it.

But on hoseok's phone later there's a single text. just one line of text from an unknown number.

Unknown (11:40pm): Thank you for looking after me alpha <3

Hoseok doesn't say that it was technically yoongi who looked after you. Hoseok hardly thinks about the line between his packmates and himself that way. He knows you've probably already texted yoongi- that the two of you text all the time. Sending songs and memes and cat videos back and forth between the two of you. The same way that he knows you and Namjoon send each other flower pictures back and forth.

Hoseok instantly renames your contact to the only thing that makes sense to him. There's only one woman in his life who means this much to him. He thinks of Namjoon's song lyric on their last album. 'I call you her, her, cuz you're my tear, tear.'

Alpha <3 (11:40pm): Of course

Alpha <3 (11:40pm): You never have to thank me for that.

Alpha <3 (11:40pm): You can ask me for anything.

Hoseok looks at the text, stressing over it feeling too mean, too demanding. Too...everything. But before he can get too in his head about it another text comes through.

Her (11:41pm): Okay

Her(11:40pm): <3

Hoseok screams into his pillow to cover the sound from the rest of the pack.

~-~

In the late afternoons, before Namjoon's done working out and far before Yoongi usually arrives at his studio. In between when the pups flock to you after morning practice and when you're usually wrapped up in the other groups. You have the habit of occupying Hoseok's practice room.

Perched there in the (new) omega bed, made of the softest cotton, a big fluffy blanket over the top if it's cold and tucked down if it's getting warm by the windows.

Watching him as he runs through the moves again and again (it's a little eerie, but omegas don't need to blink as often as alpha's.) He's polite. Greets you and asks if you need anything or want anything before he starts working. You don't laugh at him when he stumbles; in fact, you hardly say anything. You hardly talk.

Sometimes, he catches a bit of your smile in the mirror.

Usually, you're a chatterbox around the rest of the pack. Hoseok has grown used to the sound of your voice at all hours of the day, your giggle, your teasing. But around him, you're so quiet. The silence companionable instead of awkward.

Sometimes he doesn't say anything until the end of practice, sometimes he doesn't speak to you until he's getting his things together to go to the recording studio with Jungkook and Taehyung, to a health check-up with Jimin, or out for dinner with Seokjin before they get some work done with Joon and Yoongi, or you're in the process of untangling yourself from the nest. Usually because your manager has come to the door, knocked, and reminded you that you're due for a session in 15 minutes.

"Can you walk up on your own? I have like so much work to do." Hoseok shoves his water bottle, phone, and wallet into his bag with extra force. His pissy expression is hidden when he turns away. Jesus- these new staff members.

You're so agreeable too, "Oh, it's fine, you don't have to it's just a few floors." Hoseok hurries, packing up his bag quicker.

"Great- really, you're a lifesaver."

Hoseok turns away and shakes his head, instincts prickling. Annoyed.

Making his paces shorter as you get up to leave. Falling into step beside you. That same plushy tucked under your arm. "Are you going up to the 8th floor?" He asks. The 8th floor is where his studio is, as well as Joon's and Yoongi's. The floor isn't theirs officially, but it's always felt like it is. This elevator is going down to the car park dangerously exposed in Hoseok's mind- who knows who could come up and-

You smile at him. Hoseok smiles back. Can't help it.

"Yeah, Yoongi's getting in in a few minutes, he texted. Gave me the code too." Hoseok grumbles a little bit at that; even he doesn't have the code for Yoongi's studio.

"God hyung loves to spoil you." The admission bursts from his lips, and he doesn't have time to feel flustered- like he shouldn't have said that- before you're grinning up at him.

"You gonna give me yours too or?" Hoseok flushes, holds out his hand for your phone while you wait for the elevator, bouncing on your heels.

"Only if you promise to use it." You smile, "Really, no one will bother you there." Your smile falters just a little but you don't address it any more than that. It's a part of your contract that if you don't want to do a scenting, you can cancel without any notice, you can just not show up. But Hoseok knows that you take this job seriously, but sometimes he wishes you wouldn't.

His finger hovers on the buttons as he keys in the code to your notes app, a list of their numbers, house addresses, stuff like that. Hoseok does not snoop, but it’s kind of hard to ignore all the emojis you have next to Jimin’s name. His gaze flicks to your bag, the way it weighs on your shoulder. Dimpling the fabric of your comfy sweatshirt. It’s big on you, so it must be someone else’s. Not the packs because Hoseok can’t scent them on you, and he doesn't recognize them. "Do you want me to walk you up there?"

"It's okay, Hobi. I know the way."  He’s never told you to call him Hobi. But somehow, you’ve started too anyway. You’ve probably picked it up from the others. The elevator dings and opens, you step inside and tell him goodnight.

But do you want me too? Do you want me to be your shadow?

There's a lot that goes unsaid between you two. You go up, and he waits for the next elevator that will take him down to the car park (where his Lamborghini waits). But he doesn't get on it, he just watches the numbers on the elevator go all the way up to the 8th floor, watches the number blink dull yellow, and then descends back to him before finally he steps away.

You make it your routine without officially asking him. You always spend time with Hoseok in the afternoons in his private dance studio. When the sun has begun to set over the city and light has turned all yellow-orange-red, like mangos. like his scent.

You see him dance when he's frustrated, when he's happy, when his body is broken down and too tired for much more than a warm-up. You see Hoseok dance when he doesn't even want to.

Sometimes his mind just gets too full, running too fast for his feet to keep up. Until he's so frustrated, he cuts the music with a click of the remote in his pocket, and you stir from the nest. Hoseok gets his water bottle and then all but collapses to the floor beside it.

He's sweaty, his throat glistens. addams apple bobbing as he gulps at his water and runs a tired hand through his hair. He's not intending on saying anything to you, not at all, until you stir a bit, sitting up properly in the nest.

"You're having trouble with this choreography."

"Yeah," Hoseok admits, working up to it, there's no one here but the room smells like alpha aggression already. But Hoseok is angrier at his body than anything. "It's easier to get it right when I practice in front of you. I thought it would help, but-" he rubs a hand over his face. "Maybe tomorrow."

You still, and he flushes, realizing it's something he’s admitted. Because he’s never told you that before. But now you know. Hoseok can smell how pleased the confession makes you and he shivers all the way to his aching knees.

"After you've gotten some sleep?" His head jerks in your direction, eyebrow-raising. Hoseok thought he was being sneaky. You look a little chagrined when you confess it. "Jungkook said you and Seokjin didn't sleep at all last night."

Hoseok huffs, rueful. "The pups telling on me now, is he?"

Your hands press into the border of the nest, pushing up on your hands. overly excited. "He said you were worried about the award show, that you stayed up with Jinnie to help him with the choreography. But that I shouldn't worry and that it's your love language and your job to worry about your pack."

Hoseok doesn't know what to say to that and sips his water. And pretends he's not watching you from the corner of his eye as you suck on your lower lip. Just being here next to your nest is already helping. His knee doesn't feel so tight, and his ankle hardly aches. He lets the silence hover, then looks at you.

"Ask."

"Can I come?"

"No."

"Why?"

Hoseok reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Because it's not safe."

Hoseok hands you a fresh water bottle, cracking it slightly before he gives it to you. You make a face at the plainness but do not comment. (You have a special note in your contract- that sweet drinks will be provided to you often. But Hoseok thinks that it can't be healthy for you to consume basically nothing besides sugary water and coffee)

And Hoseok eyes the moisture on your lips, glancing away before you have a chance to catch him. He caps it for you when you hand it back, almost so routinely that he doesn't notice.

"There will be a lot of people there. A lot of alpha's that we don't know. I'll be really distracted and I won’t necessarily be there to protect you if something happens; it could be dangerous."

You snort. "It's an award show with a 100 cameras, I'd be fine. And of course, you wouldn’t be around you’ve got like- all your responsibilites and the pack and…"

“Yeah…” Hoseok says carefully, You fuss with your nest. you can't look up at him, can't meet his eyes.

“All’s I’m saying is I could be there- if you wanted me to be. For the pack.” You stress, He just stands up, ruffling your hair on the top of your head, and you chance a glance at him.

Hoseok's smile is resplendent. Gentle and comforting. His thin features and the crinkle of his eyes so willing, affectionate in every second. It's so unbearably tender that you can't stop the noise that rises from your throat, Somewhere between a chirp and a purr.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.”

You'd stayed home. But hoseok is already thinking about inviting you to the encore show of the last tour. It will be a big audience, one of the biggest they've ever had. A month or so away with enough time for him to properly prepare himself mentally. Enough time for him to take Mr. Lee and the rest of the staff aside personally and insist that no one lets you out of their fucking sight. To drag the others in for extra practices and make sure they know that this isn't any normal performance. This is an audition. It will probably be safer for you to be backstage rather than out in the crowd.

But even through the award show, he's distracted, distant. Before he'd gone on stage, he'd checked his phone to find another text.

Her (10:22): I'm watching. You'll do well, I can already tell. Fighting!

Hoseok had given in to the temptation to flirt back.

Alpha <3 (10:23): Oh, you're watching me now, huh? Does that mean I can watch you back?

You'd sent back nothing more than a picture. And he’d almost dropped his phone. Hiding it hastily underneath the unfair eyes of a busybody makeup Noona.

To say it was bordering on pornographic would be an understatement (at least to alpha sensitivities and Hoseok’s overactive imagination). For an omega to let an alpha even see their personal private nest. It's something undeniably intimate. A private nest is something you only let a pack see.

Some…magazines showcase them. Delicate men and women curled in baby blue sheets and fluffy hollows. Half-bare bodies stripped clean of everything. Flushed faces and plush thighs, close-ups of wrists dragging along the edge of the nests, open hands offering fantasy in every pixel. The kind of magazine that you need to be over 18 to purchase, that's put at the back of stores with blacked-out covers meant for alpha's ruts and alpha's ruts only.

It was a shot of you, or part of you. Just your bare legs and one hand wrapped around the edge of a wine glass. The short hem of your ruffled PJ’s and bunny slippers. Feet resting against the edge of a nest, partially swathed in a big dark blanket. The walls of the nest surround you, high and deep red, almost plum. In front of you a big TV shows the award show playing, a caption 'and to close out our show- the performance you've all been waiting for, Bts!'

Behind that is a windowed view of the city, sparkling. Hoseok zooms in on the reflection in the window, blurry bits of your life that he dissects. There A stuffed animal big enough to be human-sized to the left of you, probably simulating the weight of a packmate behind you.

Hoseok had done the choreography to a T. Every step crisp and perfect, the others too had snapped into place at the cheer of the crowds. Hoseok had kept the photo for himself. Too selfish to show the others quite yet. Looking at it longer than he'd ever admit during his private studio time, drinking down the little details. The tuck of your knees, how close and snuggled you are to that plushy.

Do you get lonely at your nest at home? Does such a big space feel empty? You have room for one or two alpha's, but maybe not 7 people in your private nest. The white high walls of your apartment are unadorned with art or decoration. Your curtains are wide open (not a penthouse, too close to the ground floor to be safe).

There's no one else there in your picture. Not even in the reflection of the glass. Hoseok's never asked if you have an alpha, or even a lover. someone around to look after you. But Hoseok doesn't know any person, alpha or beta, who'd ever let their omega nest alone at night.

A few days from then, Hoseok had gone into his practice room again, at the same time. Your little unspoken routine. He doesn't approach you about the photo and doesn't ask you about it at all. Just says his usual hellos before he runs through the first few songs. Exulting in the stretch of his body. The exertion of it. He needs to get tired, to get more settled, before you and he talk. You smile when he glances your way, and it makes Hoseok feel.

Calm? Angry? Possessive? Flustered? It's a confusing mixture of all. Hoseok doesn't know what or how to feel when he's around you.

When he walks over to you after the 4th song, properly sweating and panting, he holds out his own water bottle for you. He doesn't get on his knees in front of your nest; he just stands there and holds it out. "Want a drink?"

There is a half-sipped smoothie next to you, syruppy and yellow. Hoseok knows that it's mango juice without having to taste it. It's your go-to order these days. Probably with a lychee and peach base if he had to guess. But you still take what he offers without comment or disobedience.

You let him feed you sips before he lifts the bottle and takes a swallow of his own, the dampness on the edge of the bottle sweeter somehow, knowing your lips have touched it.

"You made my performance better. I wanted to thank you for it." He says before he chickens out.

Your wink is a little telling; it makes Hoseok feel flustered and hot down the back of his neck. He's never had an omega flirt with him. Omegas don't need to flirt to get what they want. "Now imagine if you let me scent you instead of just watching you."

He just huffs and falls to the floor, leaning his back up against your nest, a soft thing, intimate to touch it here. Where normally Hoseok steers clear. “Aren't you going to ask why I haven’t booked a session with you?”

You shrug, “You’re waiting until your pack is properly taken care of, it makes perfect sense to me. And even if it's not that you probably have a very good reason, you’ll come to me when you’re ready.”

Hoseok's hand tightens on the bottle. Throat thick as he swallows. But some invisible weight is lifted from his shoulders. Instead of saying anything, he takes another sip of water and then hands it to you.

"Do you want anything? Any more juice or food?"

"No. I'm not hungry." You keep watching him, and he keeps watching you, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip.

Later, he'll stress over it. He should have brought you some snacks, yakgwa maybe. You’d confessed you liked the taste of honey, and Taehyung had teased you for being old-fashioned. Sometimes, when Hoseok checks the nest in the recording booth, he finds it full of wrappers or hears the crinkle of one in the background of an audio. Yoongi makes a trap beat out of it when a producer mentions it offhandedly and implies that maybe- the recording booth is not the place for an omega.

But lowkey, fuck that.

“She just like things that are sweet.” Jimin had teased. “Like Hobi,” Jungkook said quietly, not teasing at all.

You're always asking them to get you little things like that, snacks from the employee room downstairs. A pillow you'd left in Yoongi’s studio. One of Namjoon’s baggy sweaters or Tae's cardigans when you get cold. Hoseok doesn't know how courting normally happens, but he does know that it feels wrong…unsafe. To deny you any of your requests.

Hoseok can't help but notice, privy to the pack's schedules as pack alpha, that you're more likely to ask them to do things for you after your name has appeared on their schedules. Namjoon, especially, is much more inclined to bump into a wall afterward, dazed, hazy, dopey, almost. You always ask him to come sit by you until the effects of the scenting have worn off. Sometimes you even hold his hand over the edge of your nest while he stretches.

Now Hoseok looks at you in that nest, watching him watch you, smiling. Like you're not alone in a room with an alpha. You've never talked like this before. Pleasantries sure. But you and Hoseok do not talk about his pack.

"Why are you always asking the pups to get you things? You make a special effort to ask them to do things for you." And not me, am I not enough? Why won’t you ask me for things too?

"They like it, it makes them feel better, haven't you noticed?"

"I have," Hoseok admits, feeling like he's under your thumb. Wondering why he doesn't mind it. Why does his alpha not feel challenged? Hoseok pauses, blushing when you just look at him, smiling still. He nudges the edge of your nest with his knee. "Aren't you going to ask me to get you something? Takeout or a blanket or something?"

"No," you'd hummed, leaning your head against the edge of the nest. "You're not so easy to settle, tricks like that won't work on you."

He leans in, over the edge of the nest. "What works on me then if you have me so figured out?"

You hum, thinking on it thoughtfully. "Dancing, you liked it when I asked you to dance for me." You tap the top of his water bottle. "And keeping me hydrated lol."

Hoseok rolls his eyes, "Oh my god, did you just say Lol."

"What? It's not that weird."

"You can't just say lol without actually laughing out loud, that’s like- not a thing." You tuck your smile under the edge of the nest, and Hoseok instantly wants to tilt your chin up so he can see more of it. An omega like you should never have to hide your smile.

"You are such a millennial." You poke his knee, and Hoseok finds himself overacting to the touch, overly animated. Falling backwards onto the floor. Your giggle is a reward. "Say something funny then if you want me to laugh so bad."

“I can call Jin hyung.” Your next laugh is a bark, and Hoseok can’t stop himself from smiling too. This, this ease- is something he never ever has with people outside of the pack. Your laughter quiets and you sit in companionable silence again. Just you and him and the sunlit practice room.

“Your next performance.” He looks over you and finds you’re hiding your face below the edge of the nest again. “Can I come?”

Hoseok reaches out. Your face is warm, and so is his palm. Your skin is supple and soft beneath his touch as he directs your face above the edge to look at him. “Ask me properly.”

Your eyelashes flutter, and his thumb rubs soothing circles against the ball of your jaw. “Can I come to your next performance alpha?”

Hoseok’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, and he gets the terrible feeling that you could ask for anything and everything- and he’d find some way- through blood and claw, to give it to you.

“Yes.”

You almost pop out of your nest with how excited you are, baggy clothes fluttering until a bit of your stomach peaks out. Hoseok can’t shake the feeling like he’s agreeing to something he shouldn’t, but gets back up with a smile on his face. Alpha chasing its tail with how happy he is, how satisfied fulfilling your requests makes him.

Hoseok is in deep deep shit.

“Want a preview?” he offers. You nod and settle at the edge of the nest, pressed closer to the walls to watch as he queues up the next song.

~-~

Hoseok had kept his composure until he'd gone home, and had screamed into a pillow in front of the whole pack. And had woken up at the first light of morning to craft an email to the architect working on the pack house and asked very politely if there was still a chance that a nesting room could be incorporated into the floor plan. Large, ground floor, somewhere more interior in the house.

Price was hardly a consideration.

He easily relocates his studio to the upper floor. shifting the square footage of all their bedrooms. There will be four upstairs, Jin and Yoongi will share the largest bedroom, and Jimin and Jungkook will share the next. It doesn't make sense for them to each get their own room since they end up in the same bed every night anyway. And even when they don't, it's most often Yoongi and Jungkook that sneak around together- and Jimin and Jin who need a bit of beta time. The rest of them are floaters from bed to bed.

But the nesting space- Hoseok knows it needs to be large enough just like the 'pack bedroom', His bedroom on the ground floor, that will need to be regularly able to accommodate all the packmates. It's closest to the entrance of the house and the kitchen too so that Hoseok can keep track of their comings and goings.

And an outdoor space, right? Omega's benefit from sunlight and fresh air, don't they? They'll need an updated security system too, and a larger kitchen if they're going to be cooking for 8 instead of for 7. He mentions the idea to Yoongi offhandedly, and the alpha agrees. Jimin also sat at the kitchen table makes a face. "Omegas don't eat that much, hyung. Not any more than us anyway."

Yoongi had placed the plate full of breakfast infront of him. "But still- maybe we should, just in case."

Hoseok finds himself repeating that a lot. Just in case.

~-~

“You need to book a session with her hyung.”

Hoseok peers up at Taehyung, having stooped to tie his shoe, mid-Stretch. The others are due in the practice room any minute. Hoseok had left the pack house early this morning. It’s the 3rd time this week he’s done the same.

Jimin followed closely behind Taehyung, at the door now, unpacking his things, bottles of water for practice. There are staff too- Hoseok sent them away, but he knows soon they’ll want to be in here to block out positioning and check the audio. His manager and Taehyung bicker about something inconsequential in the hallway. They aren’t in private, even if it feels like they are.

The truth is, Hoseok hasn’t been sleeping. He’s been trying to hide it, but once Hoseok’s awake, there's only one place he wants to be, and he feels riled up, unsettled until he’s here. Often pacing around the pack's apartment- closing the windows and doors, and checking the locks twice before he leaves.

Maybe it's the impending move into the pack house (near complete), or the stress of a looming tour. At least at the company, he can watch from the windows of the 7th floor and wait for your car service to loop around the circle outside. Wait to see you step out.

And then Hoseok hides. Just like now. He checked your schedule. You won’t be around until later. Tonight maybe. Hoseok knows you have a habit of ending up in either Yoongi or Namjoon’s studio before you leave for the night, often staying later just to hang around. Even when you’re not having an active session. People bother you there less.

But Hoseok knows that Taehyung has noticed, and the others have too. Last night, he found himself bookended on all ends with packmates. something abnormal leading up to comeback time, when they're all so busy, the idea of missing out on even a moment of sleep is deplorable. He’s been pushing himself a bit too hard lately. He’s barely been spending any time at home. He tells himself he’s just focused on the album. But that’s not just it.

The fact of the matter is that Hoseok's alpha just won't settle without all his pups in one place. And that only ever happens in the practice room now.

Hoseok tilts his head and considers Taehyung's words. Even though he might be right. Hoseok’s alpha is riled up just looking at him. Black slacks, red shirt- Taehyung always looks so good in red. “Whose giving orders to who now pup?”

Tae crosses his arms, flushing at Hoseok’s obvious appreciation of him. “I’m serious. You’re like- it’s negatively affecting your health-”

Hoseok sighs, pushes up from the floor without using his hands. Tugs on Tae's shirt, hand grasping over his chest, grabbing just to grab, holding just to hold. Tae can’t help but smile. “I’ll worry about my health Tae, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, sniffing it from us doesn’t do what a real scenting would do and you know it.” Jimin’s been quiet, quiet maybe because he knows what’s going through Hobi's head, what he’s tried to hide but failed to do. he pads over gently. Unzipping his sweatshirt as he goes.

Jimin's so careful with his words, pragmatic. “What are you so worried about? You know you’re not anything from her that she's not paid to give.  She’s getting compensated for this, and if she didn't want to do it- she wouldn't.”

Hoseok flinches at it. That word, taking. He doesn’t like it.

Jimin notices. Rushing to reassure, “Hyung, it’s not taking- it’s literally a monetary exchange. She’s our employee, practically.” A hidden voice in Hobi's head says that no, you’re so much more than that.

He doesn’t really get to talk about it until later. With Yoongi in Hoseok’s bed. Alphas don’t really nest; it doesn't really make any sort of difference biologically to them, not the same way that having an omega's nest would. It’s been years since the two of them giggled (a little drunk) and mimed making one together, dreaming about one day having an omega in their pack, joking, "You can take the evenings, and I’ll take the mornings."

"What about the others?"

"They’ll do what we tell them."

First in their little dorm, then their apartment, and now soon the pack house. There are boxes by the front door. They have to start packing soon if they want to be moved in by lunar new year.

Hoseok’s hand plays with the happy trail on Yoongi’s stomach absentmindedly while he unloads on him. He’s always a bit resistant to confiding in the others. Namjoon has just as much on his plate as Hoseok does, and the baby betas shouldn't be burdened with this. Jungkook and Taehyung- the pups. Yoongi has always been Hoseok’s second. His partner in dominance, in corralling the pack.

“I think if I start getting scented by her, it will only be a matter of time before I want her every day, before I’m jealous of you guys and everyone else, before I crave it more than I crave anything. Every time she walks by me, it feels like my alpha is going to sniff down her throat and then roll onto my back and show its belly.”

Yoongi laughs a little at that. Because the idea of Hoseok's alpha showing its belly to anyone is ridiculous. But Hoseok is serious. And he doesn’t laugh. Yoongi realizes this after a moment. Smile falling. “Scenting addiction has never been a problem with you and other omegas before.”

There are treatment centers around the city for them, lower-brow facilities tucked into back alleys that chain up alphas until the omega pheromones run through their systems. You’ve never made an alpha go scent addicted before. Hoseok had checked your file to make sure. But the risk feels like it’s there. Forever just scratching beneath Hoseok’s skin.

“No- it hasn’t.” Hoseok’s fingers rub Yoongi’s tummy in smooth circles. The alpha groans a little, legs falling open just incrementally. It's been years since either of them has felt the need to go more than once in a single evening.

Back just after they'd presented, and they'd been so full of pheromones that not fucking or hooking up once a day felt like a waste. Yoongi's spunk is still cooling on Hoseok's skin. It's just a habit that has him opening his legs for his pack alpha, bending in a way that Yoongi doesn't bend for anyone else. And Hoseok smiles despite himself.

“But you’re worried it might with her.”

“The way my alpha wants her- my instincts- It makes me feel like a monster.”

Yoongi nuzzles into Hoseok’s shoulder. “You’re not a monster.” Hoseok hums, unconvinced. Yoongi’s hands loop around Hoseok’s waist, rubbing up and down his ribs, attempting to comfort. But comforting another alpha is hard.

Hoseok remembers the way they’d stumbled through it at first, the heavy looks, the needy nuzzles that felt a little less than platonic. The bite of the others' teeth- oh so sweet, oh so needed. Before the pack had decided that this- every hungry and animal urge, was mutual, shared. Desired. And Hoseok started doing everything that he could to please them.

And look at where it's gotten them.

He went over to the pack house earlier, just to check. The house is really more of a villa. It's got a pool out back and enough balconies off the front and back that namjoon will not have trouble expanding his plant collection. It's not on that much property. But it feels less small than it is because of how it's perched on the hill. It gives every window and balcony a view. It's got the right number of traditional touches on the inside, wood accents.

The building is a hollow square. The bottom floor is the garage. The middle has the kitchen, nesting room, and Hoseok's bedroom. Every room opens to a well landscaped patch of earth that will become Namjoon's passion project. The studio and workout room are just before the back deck and pool. The top floor has the rest of the pack's bedrooms and Tae's art studio.

The whole house is perched on a steep grassy hill ringed by hedges that the architect assured would grow in a few years, perched in the hills above Seoul. Private but not a prison. Open, and yet protected.

Hoseok's dedication has gotten them everything.

The pack has cute ways of letting him know how thankful they are. Hoseok watches Yoongi very carefully as he leans down and bites his pectoral. Slowly committing the imprint of his teeth to memory.

“Ow!”

“Shut up, that did not hurt.” Hoseok smiles, rubbing the mark, feeling the ache there- and it feels like love. It is love- Hoseok knows. Even if Yoongi struggles to say it sometimes. Prefers to say it when the moments are light and less heavy, when they’re bickering over tracks, or when he drives Hoseok home from the company when Hoseok is too tired.

They don’t say I love you when they’re talking about making changes to the pack. Being scented by you remains a line that he can’t cross over. Hoseok won’t let himself have it because he knows what will happen after.

~-~

The morning after Jungkook trips during a performance, Hoseok is not surprised to find the other alpha in your nest.

He's just retreating to your usual comfort space, intent on making sure he can get a particularly loud choreography nailed down before you get back from your usual morning vocal lessons with the vocal line. It wouldn’t be a big deal- accept that it’s the end of the day. As per your contract and the general labor laws outlined by the government and OHS, you’re not allowed to have more than 4 hours of scenting scheduled per day.

You had two hours with the other groups and pups, one with Jimin and Tae, and then another with Jin. You’re already overloaded, already overbooked. If management finds out or if anyone in the company reports it to Omega Health Services, it would be a strike against them and could lead to them losing their license as a registered safe haven omega organization.

But he pauses at the scent on the air, you- happy soothing berry, and Jungkook- upset black tea. Stilling. Hoseok sneaks towards your omega nest in the corner, carefully, without turning the lights on.

At first, Hoseok thinks that Jungkook’s just sneaked in there to be closer to your scent, that you're not underneath him at all, but then he spots the movement of your hand, small against Jungkook's back, stroking up and down. The alpha's breathing is deep and measured.

Almost entirely hidden by Jungkook's body, he's smothering you. freshly tattoed arms wrapped around your waist, big body pinning you to the nest. His head tucked below the barrier out of the light, curly dark hair a mop, your small hand gliding through it.

Hoseok makes an alarmed noise, treading close. Reaching to rouse him from sleep. But you squeak, squirming up through the blanket, making poignant and panicked eye contact with him once your face is clear around his shoulder. Shaking your head quickly and keeping your voice down.

"Don't. I just got him to sleep."

Hoseok retracts his hand slowly. Still whispering. "Can you even breathe?"

"It's okay, I kind of like it actually."

"Of course, you fucking do," he grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You shouldn't let him do that." Hoseok is hushed. An omega's nest is a very, very intimate space. Hoseok is more nervous than upset. More worried than anything else. Eyes flicking from him to you in quick succession, an apology already building on his lips.

But when Hoseok pulls back more, he sees that Jungkook’s cheeks are damp, that his eyelashes are still clumped together from tears, his skin all red and puffy. You just comb your hands through his hair. Gently parting it around his face. Looking at him with a glance so intimate and fond that Hoseok feels like he should look away.

 "What was I supposed to do? Just let him cry?"

Jungkook always looks so youthful in his sleep, with none of his harsh edges and confusing lines. He presses into your hand, letting out a sleepy alpha growl. Nose at the scent gland on the inside of your wrist, mouth open to breathe it in more deeply.

"I told him he could, ordered it when he said you'd be mad." Hoseok huffs, tentatively reaching in to brush Jungkook’s dark hair back from his forehead, too. His hand is close to yours; he watches your fingers flex, like you might be reaching out to him. "He was so sad alpha."

Hoseok just sighs and gets up on his creaky knees. He looks down at the two of you, how nice your body fits around his, how your body is just as boneless, and your eyes are already starting to grow heavy. You look comfortable and warm and cozy.

Hoseok debates between what he knows is right and what his alpha wants. Looking down at the two of you satisfied. Hoseok's alpha wants to cuddle up underneath you or maybe on top of Jungkook. The only thing better than one alpha on top of you is two. The only thing safer would be to stay here and watch over you, but…you look sleepy. Tired. And Hoseok knows that if he stays, you probably won't sleep. Will probably want to keep an eye on an alpha not in your nest.

You're always complaining about management lingering around when you're doing a session, that you wish they'd just leave you be. Maybe staying…will do more harm than good.

 If you notice the change in his scent, nearly heady. You don't say anything at all. You nibble on your lower lip, question on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t ask.

Stay.  

"Is your phone charged?" He asks. You have a wrinkle between your eyebrows when you're confused, Hoseok reaches down to smooth it out. You recoil from his thumb rubbing at the spot with a pout, and he can't stop his smile. 

"Yeah, it's got like 70%, why?"

"I'll lock the door from outside." This is his practice room. And no one will question it if they find the lock clicked; no one will bother you here. "You text me when he wakes up or if you need something, and I'll come get you. Management won't find out that way."

Jungkook would just get another scolding, and you would too. That's the last thing Hoseok wants. He turns and makes to leave, keys already in his hands. Jungkook hardly stirs through all of it.

"Alpha?" You call softly, and Hoseok turns back,

"Yes pup?"

You shrink back below the edge of the nest. Suddenly shy for whatever reason. "Nothing." Hoseok waits for a second, waits for you to change your mind, and then nods.

"Thank you."

Hoseok blinks, "Of course." The keys feel sweaty in his hands. Hoseok means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his life when he says. "Anything you need."

~-~

The pack house is quiet at this hour, late at night on a friday, practice tomorrow and the day after looming. their friday nights often don't look like regular 20 somethings do. The sound of the pack settling into their steadiness comforting as it is familiar. Hoseok scrolls through social media while he brushes his teeth in the kitchen.

The take out all put away. The sound of Seokjin showering in the ensuite and singing one of their new songs softly, lulls him into a false sense of security with the quiet gravel of namjoon's tone a room away, punctuated softly by the sound of the headbord rocking into the wall.

Although that might just be Jimin and Jungkook hitting the table, shouting at their respective screens as they game in the living room.

This late at night, hoseok so often thinks about you. Your apartment must be oh so quiet.

Tae left a little while ago to hang out with his friends. With clear instructions as to the time he was expected home and the amount he's allowed to drink. Hoseok is just considering if he wants to hunt down Namjoon and Yoongi in the other room or if he wants to wait up for Tae to come home when his phone dings.  

A text from your number.

Basically, Hoseok’s worst nightmare in print form.

It’s a picture of two dresses, one black and leather, the other red and sparkly, lying on the edge of your nest.

Her (9:59): Can you help me choose alpha?

Hoseok sends a second dumbly staring at it, brain short-circuiting, before another text comes through.

Her (9:59): Sorry, wrong alpha.

Hoseok immediately tries to call you. But it goes to voicemail. He sends another call, rapid fire, but that one also gets declined after a second. He calls into the kitchen.

“Jungkook ah- can you call y/n for me?”

Jungkook and Jimin stick their heads around the corner. Headphones from their gaming setup off their ears. “What? Why? is something wrong?” Hoseok is thankful that Tae isn’t around and that the others are occupied in their own rooms. Fucking from the sound of it. Namjoon and Yoongi tend to get noisy. The others would be able to scent it out on him in a second. It’s only through pure self-control that Hoseok manages to keep his scent normal.

“No reason, she just hasn’t responded to me.”

Hoseok watches Jungkook call, the furrow of his eyebrow. staring at his phone for a second. “That’s weird, she always picks up when I call.”

Hoseok keeps his scent steady. He grabs his coat, tells, and then orders Jungkook and Jimin to stay put. He wraps the trench coat tightly around him, glad for its length to block out his pajamas. “It’s probably nothing. I might go and like- make sure she’s not still at the company.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but Hoseok doesn't have time to make another one.

Hoseok tries to call you another dozen times on the elevator ride down to the garage, but you leave every one of them on voicemail. Eventually, Hoseok gives in.

Alpha (10:02): Who are you going out with?

Alpha (10:02): Tell me right fucking now.

Her (10:02): Wouldn’t you like to know alpha ;)

Alpha (10:03): Tell me.

Her (10:03): Or else what?

Alpha (10:03): Or else you won’t like what happens.

Her (10:03): Don't threaten me with a good time.

Alpha (10:03): I'm serious. I'm not fucking around.

Alpha (10:03): Where. Are. You.

The next text makes his alpha gnash it's teeth, nearly howling. hair standing on end. And Hoseok feels his alpha win out a little, giving into the chase.

Her (10:04): Come and find me <3

You don’t send any more than that. But you don’t need to. It’s really not all that hard to find out where you’ll be. The fact of the matter is that Hoseok is very, very well-connected, and he’s not exactly averse to using those connections to his advantage. He could reach out to your manager- you have a tracker on your phone like all the other employees.

But all it takes is a well-worded question in the search bar on Twitter to find a photo, a flash of red, your hair curled behind your shoulders as a bouncer helps you step aside the long queue. Most of the picture is blurry, but the profile of your face is something Hoseok would recognize anywhere.

Yeonjunsleftnostril: Isn’t this the omega that works for txt?

Jikookfivever: No, that one works for HYBE.

Yeonjunsleftnostril: isn’t that the same fucking thing?

Hoseok isn’t in disguise; he didn’t think to grab anything. But he gets out of the car infront of the club without thinking about it. He’s spotted almost instantly underneath the neon partition. He wonders if omegas even need tickets to get in here- probably not, they probably just let you right in without even asking for an ID.

He tosses a wad of bills to the valet. “Leave it here.” The beta scurries; he knows Hoseok’s face, the whole city is covered in it. The hush to the crowd that his voice commands is audible. somewhere in the line someone whispers "is that j-hope? why is he wearing pj's to the club?" The bouncer just nods at Hoseok and lets him through without any hassle.

A camera flashes. And Hoseok winces.

You’re really very easy to find, sitting at an empty booth in the corner. Everyone's giving you a wide berth. A dozen bottles of champagne around you and various other alcohols and empty glasses. Hoseok knows you got it all for free- any club would be lucky to host an omega for even 10 minutes, let alone the hour that it took for him to find you.

Hoseok isn’t surprised to find you alone. No alpha. Not the one you dressed up for. Whoever they were, they’ve left you alone, and it’s their loss. The clubs that usually cater to pack clientele are quieter. But this is a club through and through. Edm from the sound of it. Hoseok weaves his way through the churning crowd towards you, passing a group of alphas peering into your booth.

“You can do it bro, that’s just an omega.” “Yeah, the only omega here.” “I didn’t know they were like- even allowed to drink-” “you’ve got this bro-” “yeah go woo her” “bro you’re like so desirable.” “yeah, id fuck you and i'm not even an beta-" "that's like a little weird bro" "sorry bro" "go get this bro- "

Hoseok walks by them without a single glance in their direction. They shrink back when he smirks, his aura intimidating and anger melting off of him in waves. His usually sweet mango scent is sour and strong, making the crowd part around him.

He’s thankful this club has a famous no phones policy, otherwise this would make headlines. At best, he knows a few photos will circulate on the back corners of the internet. Probably excused away.  

Your legs are crossed at the ankle, the hem of your sparkly red skirt hiked up to the upper thigh. Almost high enough to flash the people here. Leaving miles of your skin on display. Hoseok has never seen you in anything other than nesting clothes; he's never seen you in so little. Your eyelashes are curled long and dark, your cheeks rouged, your lips lined and filled bright, bright red, making his blood boil for several reasons.

Whoever the alpha is that you dressed up for is one lucky fuck.

Hoseok's alpha feels world-ending rage. The kind of rage that makes people kill. The kind of rage not appropriate for an alpha of his caliber.

The worst part is, your face still lights up when you see him. The joy on your face is plain to see. Hoseok realizes that you’re drunk, absolutely wasted as your expression loosens into a dopey grin. He knows the expression on his face is pinched and pissed. But you don’t even seem to care as you reach for him, purse spilling, its contents falling everywhere. (Lipstick and a wallet and expensive chocolates and... is that a stuffed animal? One of the ones Jin got you?)

Hoseok catches you before you fall to the floor, all but jumping into his arms in drunk animation. Excited. Sweet scent rippling.

“Hoseokie! You made it!”

~-~

Notes:

on second read hoseok reads so imature in this fic, i know it's a flashback, but it's very clear i think from his behavior and internal monologue that he really really wants to be a good pack alpha and is struggling to find his grove. i hope you got that without me explicitly saying it? but it's true that the m/c really does make him flourish.

this may feel like a filler chapter- not because it is- but because it and the next chapter originally were connected to each other and now they are not! the next chapter and the one after it focus more on her relationship with the others as well as hobi (building very heavily on the m/c/jk dynamic and showing how that sort of started) and my god the sexting with tae- it's taking everything in me not to spoil it.

i split this because once i hit like 12k in the word count my mental health gets very dodgy (basically the level of effort i put in doesn't reach the amount of feedback i receive and i start to feel like my writing is crappy SO that is why i try not to publish parts that are longer than 12k.

i really hope people won't be disapointed :/ especially because there's nothing really really juicy that happens in this chapter.

i think it's clear that i'm not sticking to the irl timeline of enlistment and albums in this fic but incase you needed it said! things are happening out of order! also there's no pandemic in this universe lol- i figured since we have the omega plague we don't need covid. in my mind this takes place in like 2018 when bts's popularity really took off like- DNA era. realistically this would mean that bts are younger than like 26-27-28. but you know- if the pandemic hadn't happened but they'd still enlisted when they where 30- you get the picture. the timeline works if you ignore it and the timeline really doens't matter to me.

wow i'm at the point in editing this where i hate this- it's so fucking meandering and i feel like you can really tell there was supposed to be another part to this (there is it's just next chapter)

whatever.

i have not verbally said it in the last chapters but the packmates scents are as followed namjoon: tomato leaf, Jimin: lychee, Jin: peaches, m/c: blackberries, hoseok: drippy sticky mangos, Jungkook: black tea, Taehyung: toffee like faintly smoky but sweet, Yoongi: citrus, but deep and mellow instead of bright

i love how hoseok's inner monolouge is "i'm a monster- i'm going to hurt her." and the second she sees hoseok actually dominating she's just like "wow he's pretty" like ugh- their dynamic is so <3333

i love outro her and i love that hoseok's referencing that here. newer armies might not know the song.

this is the first chapter where i'm like- does the forced caretaking tag really fit? because honestly the m/c willingly gives up control of her whole life to hoseok. like- all of it. i think that this is a very soft foray into the world of forced caretaking.

~-~

Mini playlist:

Bella Kay- Steady

Tate mcrae- Revolving Door

Tate mcrae- the hills

Demi Lovato- met him last night

Annabelle Dinda - Satellites

But mostly, summer just means Namjoon and Jin fucking on every horizontal surface available, and even some vertical ones when Namjoon is feeling particularly energetic. Filling the house with the distant sounds of slapping skin against skin, high-pitched moans, and deep growls.

It has Tae distracted from her world full of monsters and magic (and a heroine that looks like you and talks like you and just might have your eyes). Eyeing the ceiling in her little library room, a tell-tale trickle of dust interrupts her work from the heavy banging of the headboard above. Granted, it’s hard not to get distracted by it or dragged into it. The pack alpha and pack omega have reached new heights of audacity since their mating. They can hardly keep their hands off each other for a single hour.

You compare notes. They’ve fucked in the kitchen 5 times this week, the pack's old bedroom each time before that, and the hot tub so much that Yoongi had to drain it and replace the filter.

Namjoon has had a singular, all-consuming sort of focus on Jin since their mating. Both marks are red scars now, healed enough that the pack can touch them- something that you do often. It's all gentle strokes of hands over Namjoon’s throat when he’s lying prone, every inch of his body taught like a wire about to snap, grumbly growls slipping out every time you put your thumb to where Jin’s canine pressed. Or Yoongi in the shower with Jin, lazing about in the water. cheek resting against Jin’s dewy collar bones, nose pressing when Jin grants his husband the permission of “take what you need.”

It’s a pretty mark, smaller than yours by half a measure, because Jin’s plush lips had sort of gotten in the way. The space between Jin’s incisors and front tooth makes a lopsided little heart that the pack is a bit obsessed with and routinely teases Namjoon for to the tune of “Joonie, your heart is showing”. Namjoon's mating mark on Jin’s throat is a little less front-facing and a little more to the side, so pretty and just peeking beneath a wide collar. Less pink and less fuzzy at the edges, because Namjoon hadn’t had to bite deep to mark Jin, but Jin-

Jin had sort of mauled Namjoon- just a little. A deep mark, a complete claim. Unquestionable.  

You listen to them fucking, sort of endeared, sort of annoyed. Not that they wouldn’t drag you into it if you asked or dared to come too close. Or if you did something snarky, like bang on the wall to get them to quiet down. When you shift right, you can still feel the result of wandering too far into their orbit just the day before.

The hunger of a new mating mark knows no bounds, not for the pack alpha and pack omega, having one of their pups between the two of them, debauching and riling them up to the fullest extent, until there’s little more than a slick, soaked mess between your thighs is their idea of a perfect morning.

You might have had to beat them off of Yoongi with a newspaper when he complained of feeling sore. They’d raised their arms a little chagrined, looking a little younger and a bit more in love than usual. Communicating volumes with a single look- only to scamper off and immediately hassle Jungkook, who was only too happy to take Yoongi’s place.

Sometimes the noise gets to be a bit too much for you, and you go with Tae to the café in town. It’s a bit shitty, a bit old. The chairs aren’t deep enough to feel cozy, and the coffee is burnt.

It’s not the same 24-hour coffee shop that Yoongi and Jin used to work at; that one has suspiciously shuttered its doors sometime in the last few months. You have no doubt that Yoongi’s family is slowly closing out its fronts across this city- or maybe just in your corner of it. It’s wise to give Yoongi, you, and Hoseok a wide berth, and you can’t say you’re not happy with the distance.

It’s a nice place to sit with her and sip at your little drinks (its pastries are unfortunately sub-par). Even if there are things you’d change, the chairs for one, the dark walls another. But Tae looks pretty by the big window, the sunlight making her hair all red instead of just tawny. It becomes one of your favorite things- taking pictures of her and posting them to your old Instagram.

It’s a little sparse, since all of your pictures from your life before are deleted now. Lingering in your archive only when the pack asks to see pictures from your wedding or something else. You let them cycle through and don’t even consider seeing pictures of Geumjae because that’s not for you- not right now.

Now, your Instagram is littered with pictures of you and Tae playing dress up. Hobi and Yoongi at the beach this summer. Dots in the night sky from a late-night drive where you and Hobi drove to where the cliffs from up north meet the sea, and you had a perfect view of the moon and the Milky Way, and the lights on the horizon, a ship or an ocean liner off the coast right where the sky meets the sea. Distant but bright.

There you’d both reclined on the hood of the still-warm car. Whispering secrets between the two of you for old times’ sake as you watch the moon rise over the ocean, and watch the sea flow as if in slow motion. Your shoulder and his shoulder and only your shared sweatshirts between. Lulled to near sleep by the sound of Hoseok’s voice, roughly confessing.

“I think if we didn’t have the house, I’d want to live out here. Even though half these cottages look like they’re about to fall into the sea.”

Each picture on your Instagram might only get 7 likes, but it’s still nice to have that again. A sense of normalcy to have people to post to and post you. You take a picture of yourself, and the first thing on your mind isn't if you're worth it or if it will get you the bad kind of attention. There’s a sense of camaraderie to have Jin spamming your comments with a million hearts and Yoongi to comment, “wait, when did you take this?” To a picture of him open-mouthed, napping on the couch. It’s a bit of an archive.

Well, you don’t always get 7 likes; sometimes you get tons if you happen to post a picture of a certain blond-headed alpha. It’s hard to get used to. Sometimes you get…comments from Jimin’s fans. Most of them are relatively harmless.

'Oh my god he looks even better when they’re domestic together,' and 'pack goals,' or 'is this one his mate? She looks like an omega.'

'No it’s the other girl I think, and look at that mating mark. I think Jimin would tell us if he was mated.'

'Good that means I still have a chance.'

The ones that go farther from speculation, you just delete and let them wonder. Everyone is adjusting. Bit by bit. Week by week. It’s hard to realize where the empty spaces are in your life; the bits that don’t fit. You just have to wait until the right thing slips into place.

At the café, you play footsie with Tae under the table and watch her over the edge of your phone, skimming through TikTok or anything that holds your attention. Tae isn’t writing so much anymore- she’s just editing, which somehow requires more of her focus. You watch her crinkle her eyebrows and rub her lower lip, and reach to wipe her hands before she has the chance to get lipstick on her keyboard.

It’s something you see Yoongi do often, and it’s good to mirror him (he’s always sort of been teaching you how to love), but it’s hard for you to sit for too long before you get restless because now that you’ve started to work out regularly and move your body; It’s hard not to want to move all the time, to sort of need it.

You’re getting better, even if you don’t realize it.

~-~

Jin has been…well… ‘Threatening’ isn’t exactly the word for it, since the mating.

After the first few weeks of ‘no one but you guys can even look at Namjoon without me needing to bounce on his knot for a few hours,' the initial breeding frenzy has subsided. Jin is a touch calmer than the pack had ever seen him. Before he’d been stubborn, needing to handle every little thing for the pack, but now things are a bit looser, Jin's control slips in ways in never would have before.

These days, you guys talk about things a whole lot more. You’re not sure why, but maybe it feels like everything is truly over. Nothing is looming over your heads except for the rest of your lives. No murders or monsters or pasts waiting to bite, and no shoes waiting to drop.

Maybe it’s because there’s no hiding now; Jimin is in every other magazine, staring blandly out from behind blue bottles of perfume or modeling garish little vests (that Jungkook ends up wearing with nothing underneath). Jin has Namjoon's mark on his throat and Yoongi's ring on his finger.

He can feel their bond like a tangible thing in the corner of his mind. Namjoon's emotions are soft and often achey. Jin can't really feel them, not in the way that he can feel his own emotions. It's more like the sense of something that's hot or cold. Happy or distressed that comes ferried through a constant pressure and a pervasive feeling of steadiness. The mating bond is a tether, that keeps Jin from tipping over.

If getting mated felt like jumping from a high height, then Namjoon’s very being was what kept Jin from crashing into the uncertain future below. Every bit of Namjoon belongs to Jin.

Everything from his frosted tips to his gentle hands and rippling back muscles. The crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the way he laughs when one of the pups surprises them, or does something so cute that Jin can't help but feel the instinct to bite and settle. Everything about Namjoon is his. Will always be his. And will never stray far from him.

Coming up and settling into the bond feels like the most complete form of being, like the moment between a fireworks sparkle and its boom. The moment that the world holds its breath before sunrise.

Jin has never felt calmer.

Now that Jin understands what it means to be mated to someone, it makes the beginning of your relationship with Yoongi and the dependency you had on him (and continue to have sometimes) a lot more rational. And this bond is only half as strong as the one that you and Yoongi have.

The guilt is an unintended side effect of that.

Jin doesn’t hide it this time; he shares it. You stay up and talk about it just the two of you in the center of the nest. The little lacy tank top that he put you in earlier is distracting down to the last thread. It's plunging neckline tempts Jin's thoughts and his fingers.

Jin doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it; how much he loves you and how big the emotion feels in his chest. Some of it has to be from Namjoon. Everything still feels big and new, intense. He’s sort of getting used to Namjoon being everywhere. There's no such thing as personal space. No such thing as a separation between either of their decisions, emotions, or scents.

Namjoon's coffee scent now has a slight milky undertone, and Jin's likewise, has shifted from dollops of whipped cream to something slightly more savory and mature. It's something the pack can't get enough of (especially the alpha's) pressing their noses against throats, pushing each other out of the way because sharing is hard sometimes. cautiously stealing little nibbles until Namjoon's growl inevitably makes them whine and back down. He wakes up like that every morning.

Jin is realizing lately that these everyday habits are going to be the rest of his life, and it makes him feel like there's a lump in his throat. How good this is, how lucky he is to have a mate like Namjoon. The love and fierce protectiveness over pouring.

Thats how the mornings go- but the evenings always end up like this; Namjoon pressed hot and alpha along his spine, nosing into Jin's nape like he just can’t get enough of the other's scent. Hand possessively wound around Jin’s waist to cup his stomach while you linger and shimmy just a little closer, Hobi's knee between your legs.

Jin dips his fingers along your sternum, never going lower than your neckline. Touching just to touch. Fingers skimming over the silk dimple where your nipple sits, the half there imprint in the silk where your skin darkens.

Your pink collar sits on your clavicle, just as pretty as the day Jin bought it for you, although the bell is detached so that you can move around freely without waking the others. It’s a comforting weight around your throat, and although you aren’t in subspace or omega space and you haven’t had any sort of scene tonight, your eyelashes still flutter when Jin tugs. Fingers occasionally tangling with the metal loops whenever your attention sways.

The metal of Namjoon’s sits hot against the center of Jin’s back, and Hobi's puppy tag glints in the half light from the dimmed-down Christmas light above. And every other snore Namjoon’s breath becomes a growl. Hand twitching around the pack omega’s waist, hand splayed across his stomach under his sleep shirt.

But while the rest of the pack slumber on, you and Jin talk.

“When we first met, how long had it been since like you and Yoongi had-”

“About oh- I don’t know- maybe 8 weeks?” Your cheek dimples against your hand, and Jin pauses to curl a lock of your hair over one finger and then the next, examining it for split ends just in case he needs to schedule you another appointment. Things like that have slipped his attention recently, but at your words, Jin pauses his examination.

It’s been 9 weeks since the mating. Too long but not long at all; it still feels raw, even the skin around Jin's mating mark is still sensitive enough to ache. Mating marks are generally slow to heal.

“You’re kidding?” Jin picks himself up in the nest to look at you, and you smile sadly. Jin’s incredulity does not disturb the quiet; his hands stroke down your waist, from your ribs to where it tapers, the thick flush of your hips and down, only to trail back up again. “I don’t know how I never realized it was that soon.”

“Yeah, it was a bit of a mind fuck.” You tip your head back and let him touch his fill. You are in no position to deny him anything- not that you’d ever want to. Jin could drag you over his lap right now for a settling, and your only complaint might be that it would wake the others.

And Tae needs her beauty sleep.

She's laying on her side just behind Yoongi in a matching slip to your top. The silk mask over her eyes. Hair spilling close to Jimin's hand, like he'd fallen asleep wrapping it around his knuckles again and again. The repetitive action is soothing to Jimin’s senses. It’s sweet to see, to connect the still life of your pack to their routine. Jungkook’s loud snoring punctuates the quiet.

“I couldn’t even like, let him up to go to the bathroom sometimes.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

You snicker, and Hobi shuffles closer behind you. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not. He noses forward, nose hitting the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. “Pretty sure I gave his bladder permanent damage, but he also went through this stage where he wouldn’t let me walk on my own and wanted to carry me everywhere, so it was very tit for tat.”

You tip your head down, shy about the way that Jin is looking at you, and feel the cool press of Hobi's lips against your spine. The warmth of his breath and the press of his stomach against your back as he inhales. Jin’s dark hair lies over his forehead, watching the two of you with something hungry but unvoiced behind his expression.

“I was also like- really fucking weak at times so-”

Jin tugs at your collar. Finger trailing up to your chin. “None of that. No negative self-talk.”

Jin’s fingers trail lower, and you shimmy, not uncomfortable, but very aware of your own desires, very aware of how this is a serious conversation and so not the time but.

“Jinnie-” you whine.

Jin’s fingers press as he cups your ribcage, fingers teasing oh so gently. Thumbs rubbing circles. “What? You said Tit?” You laugh and press yourself into Jin’s front, your packmates around you snuffle, and Namjoon’s next breath is definitely a half-awake growl. You lower your tone when you pull back, grinning at Jin. His smile stays mostly the same, but then falters. His hands smooth up and back instead of to the front. His fingers splay across your scapula to your spine. Drumming there. pulling you away from Hobi, who lets you slide away.

Jin doesn't take you over his lap, he doesn't reach between your legs or do anything sexual. He shuffles so that you can lie on top of him, putting both his arms around you and pulling you snug. Until all of your weight is across him. A lying down hug. "there we go. that's better"

"Jinnie?" you try to pull back, but his arms keep you where he needs you. and his next breath is shakier that you expect, eventually his hold loostens, and you can pick yourself up to look at him again.

“Sorry. instincts." he shakes his hair out of his face, and when you glance back, you realize Hobi's moved in his sleep, chasing you. "But still, when I think about how I shoved you, how aggressive I was- I’m lucky you didn’t rip out my throat.”

You lean your chin on his pectoral, watching him work through it. “The validation of you saying that feels nice, even if it’s been years.”

Jin shakes his head, plush lips pressing together in displeasure at how you dismiss it. “Just one year, I shouldn’t have-”

“Jin, you’ve already apologized for it like a million times-”

“But still-”

“If you really want to apologize, you could-" Jin’s face dips, nipping at your collar right where he knows you're ticklish, and peals of laughter and giggles join the quiet as you squirm away. Hobi makes a noise in the back of his throat as you wiggle into him. Jin holds you where you are, but the nest shakes with the sound of your laughter.

Tae is the only one to wake up at the sound, sitting up with a fluff of silk and feathers and a crinkle of the duvet. Taking off her mask with a pout. Glossy eyepatch sliding off her cheek. Disapproval radiated along her glower.

The alpha huffs and leans over to hook her fingers into your collar. Giving you a little shake. You smile through it, and when you pull back, Hobi's half-open eyes are glaring at you in the darkness. “Sorry” you say. Shrinking.

Jin’s giggle has the nest shaking again. And his hand wraps around your waist again, this time more firmly. “I’ll settle her Tae.”

~-~

Jin has a fair amount of work to do now that Jimin is sort of a superstar.

They still haven't found an adequate solution to his agent and manager problem. And Jin is reluctant to let that kind of control slip to someone who isn’t pack. There are magazines littered around the house, contracts in big piles. Sample photos and headshots in Manila envelopes. Yoongi had Jimin's first advert framed and put in the stairwell so that the pack can pass by it every time they come upstairs. Jimin hasn’t been a cover model yet- but it's only a matter of time.

There are dozens of other photos hanging in the stairwell too; a picture of you all at the beach. One of you and Tae are all dressed up with more glitter than skin showing. A photo with a Noodle wearing one of Tae's silk scarves around his neck like a bowtie.

A picture of the pack, long long before you and without Hobi too. Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung look impossibly young. Probably from soon after they'd all moved in together. A baby photo of Jin in a pint-sized hanbok, one of Namjoon and a dozen other pups who all look vaguely like him in front of a big mid-century house. One of Hobi standing in front of a carousel.

One of Yoongi at the old coffee shop with Jin, looking so lanky that it’s hard to believe he was ever that small, and one of Hobi and him at the record store, sitting on stacks of old speakers, jeans cuffed, the phone that took the photo probably propped up against some boxes. Most of them are grainy and taken with old iPhone cameras but you can feel the fondness, the love, the joy, even through time.

But there’s one photo, halfway up the stairs, that you avoid looking at if you can help it. It's not a bad photo of you by any means. 6 months ago, you would have said it's the prettiest photo of you ever taken.

It's one of the first you’d ever taken at the house, shortly after the pack had moved in last summer. It's innocuous, maybe Tae took it or Jin- but in the photo, a sickly looking you is curled up with Yoongi on the porch. A plate full of watermelon rinds sits on the table in front of you all. Chewed and mostly green. Jungkook is equally asleep on the opposing sofa. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against your mate's throat, tired because your body just hadn’t had enough energy to keep going back then.

But how could your arms look so brittle? And was your hair really that thin? Did you always look so miserable?

The bags under your eyes are darker than bruises, and the way you're holding your body- you can feel the hurt all the way from here. You don’t know when your body stopped aching, when everything stopped hurting, only that you’re different now. Sometimes, when no one is looking, you pause on the staircase eye level with the photo and stare at the version of you that you no longer recognize. A time that you can’t really remember all that well.  

Yoongi notices, because Yoongi notices everything when it comes to you.

He comes upon you one morning, behind you as you pause. Tae is already upstairs getting ready, one or two packmates showering off the nighttime. You paused there in your fuzzy socks and a big shirt of Namjoon’s passing for pajamas.

The house is full of giggles and quiet. Noodle meows while Hobi feeds him. Tae says something to Jimin that makes Jin laugh upstairs. The sound of Jungkook softly singing under his breath. Namjoon clanging through the dishes from breakfast. His turn this morning. Your turn tomorrow.

You turn, registering that Yoongi’s coming up behind you, that you’ve been caught. “Oh, I was just-”

Your excuses die in your throat but you stay put as Yoongi ascends the steps to where you stand in front of the picture. It’s normal-sized, 4 by 6 inches of pure misery. You flush at being caught, although you’re not sure why you don’t want him to know you’re ruminating on it.  

“Ah, that one.” He says when he sees what photo you’re looking at. “I could be wrong, but I think that might be the first photo we have together.” He smiles at it. And you shift. Nervous.

“Oh, It is? I just-” you look back at it, and Yoongi sets his hand on your waist, looking too.   “Does it bother you? I can take it down, I know it’s not from like- a good time but-” Yoongi looks at it, lips quirking. And doesn’t say what he maybe could have. That it wasn’t a good time in your lives, but Yoongi can’t let go of the only time he got you all to himself. That it reminds him of the intention behind love.

Mating marks can only do so much, even beta ones.

It’s a reminder that you two can love each other, but it’s always something you’ll both have to work at. You and Yoongi will never have a blow-up, you’ll never assume you know what’s best for each other, or love each other without hope behind it. Maybe that’s why he’s fond.

Maybe.

“It doesn’t bother me.” You say, and you decide that it’s the truth. “I just didn’t realize how I looked back then.”

Yoongi just taps his fingers on the banister of the stairs. Watching you and the curve to your cheeks and chin, the curve to your whole body. So different from where you started. There’s nothing sexual to Yoongi’s comparison; there's no worth that he ascribes to the version of you in that photo that he doesn't give you now. Only the trickle of a memory and the quickening of his heartbeat.

He steps closer to you. “Yeah. It was pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs. Cupping your elbow with his hand. A small request for you to continue up the steps. After a moment, you do. Ascending into the pack’s bedroom where the sound and scent of Jimin and Jin are closer and Tae's giggle sounds even sweeter. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault for being so sick.”

“How long are you going to say that?”

On the landing, he shrugs, hands in his pockets. Takes one of them out and tugs on your sleeve. It’s an oddly childish action for him, and you realize with a pang that he must have picked it up from you. It’s strange how you leave your mark on people, how you take pieces of them and they take pieces of you. Yoongi smiles at you and says, “Until you believe it. Probably forever if you need me to say it.”

The distress is suddenly overwhelming, and unlike before, you don’t hide it. “Yoongi, I was doing that to myself-”

“And you made yourself get better too-”

You snort, “I definitely did not. You and Jungkook like- force fed me for a whole 3 months.”

His head tilts to the side. “You know I don’t like it when you say force feeding.”

“I- sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just never again.” Yoongi says it solemnly, and it sounds like a promise as you nod. Yoongi takes your hand in his, fitting his fingers in between yours until they tap at your knuckles. Guiding you gently to the bathroom. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ll never get that bad again.” Yoongi stares at you, waiting for you to say it back.

“I won’t.”

Yoongi sticks out his pinky. And the rest is history.

(The two of you leave the picture there and let it be. It’s not the last photo that the hallway will get- and that’s a marvel, isn’t it? That you have your whole lives to look forward to. That your pups' first day of school pictures and graduation photos will one day be hung here (like your and Tae's wedding photos and Jimin’s 3 Vogue covers, like Tae's Pulitzer Prize certificate for her 5th book, and an article about your café in the paper,

but I’m getting very, very ahead of myself here.)

~-~

Jimin hasn’t been on the cover of Vogue yet, but someday soon he will. His career is moving at lightspeed. It’s been maybe 4 weeks since the whole ‘Mr. Park’ thing. You think that maybe it will never slow down but that that might be a good thing for Jimin as you eat late summer watermelon with the pack on the porch. Waiting for Jimin to come home from an early morning photoshoot.

When he does it's with a smile, taking the stairs two at a time and doing a twirl to show off his new outfit- that he definitely didn't leave the house in to all of you sitting there.

Namjoon smiles from the doorway at Jin coming up the stairs, in their own little world as they drag Jungkook upstairs for god only knows what (probably a bit of nasty filthy sex, not that the other omega is at all complaining)

Jimin smells like vanilla and expensive shit as he ducks low for a kiss and then flops right there in all his Gucci glory. Hobi leans over and puts his finger through the artfully distressed holes in his sweater. “The director liked me so much they let me walk home with this shit-”

“Oh, I’m totally stealing this,” You grill him. You want to know everything, and none of it is a secret. You steal his fancy sunglasses and trade them back and forth with Tae, slung across Jimin’s lap like some sort of willowy daydream straight out of Sappho’s poems. And Jimin gets progressively more flustered the more she trails her nose up the column of his throat. Increasingly more distracted as he tells you about the mansion on the cape and the castle by the sea and the liquid organza suit coat they put him in.

"You should be the model, not me," Jimin tells her, but Tae just shrugs, before leaning forward to grab a perfect chunk of watermelon. Pressing the pink square between her teeth with a juicy squish that you feel in your tummy for some reason. When you look at Hobi, he's grinning at you knowingly. You flush and look away, feeling found out for some reason.

"I like writing more than I like being pretty, and this way I get to have the designer stuff without any of the work."

Jimin trails his nose along the crown of her head. "One of the many benefits of being my girl, I guess." Jimin teases, fingers slipping lower on her waist.

"Many benefits huh? Tell me more. What else do I get from this arrangement?" Jimin's fingers continue to trail lower, cupping between her legs, and you lean up, slap him a little.

"We are on the porch Jimin, anyone could see."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You are literally kneading Tae's ass like a dough ball."

"Well come over here and I'll knead yours too. You can consider it practice for when we make salt bread again."

"You're impossible."

"Impossibly attracted to both my girlfriends is what I am."

Hobi's eyes naturally travel to your back end, blatantly poised in his direction as you lean over the coffee table.

You jump. Flushing terribly, looking over your shoulder at Hobi, who looks at his phone like he hasn’t done anything at all. He's scrolling through something, and when you lean back into him with a huff, you realize it's a sample of the photoshoot. Jin must have sent him the pictures.

Hobi has sort of been helping Jin wade through some of the paperwork for Jimin's job. It was a mountain of work for Jin alone. And asking Hobi to get a second look at some things was second nature.

“It’s not a big deal, they literally just ask me to touch my face and then take a picture.”

Hobi scrolls through, “Easy money. These are like- so fucking good.”

“Easiest money of my fucking life, I fell asleep during makeup today and they freaking cooed at me-”

"You never fall asleep when I do your makeup."

Jimin leans forward to nip at her jaw. "That's because there's an incentive to stay awake." Tae hadn't gotten flustered, had just looped her arms around Jimin’s neck and whispered something into his ear that made him go bright red.

Jimin hasn’t had to go anywhere international for his job yet- but he did go to Los Angeles last week. A city that Jimin described as too hot and too sprawling. That you’d have hated all the traffic and Ubers. You’re surprised Jin didn’t go with him.

You know why he didn’t go- because he's worried about you and your application to culinary school. You have this near vibrating anxiety while you wait and wait and wait to hear back. But there's been nothing.

Nothing so far. Sometimes you wonder if it's even worth all this stress and effort. You'd be happy here just living like this for your whole life. Money is not an issue. You have enough money where you could all honestly do that without feeling the consequences for several decades, if not the rest of your lives, if you invested it properly, but…

Managing Jimin has been amazing for Jin's mental health. And Jimin likes it too. And maybe you want something like that- a purpose. Yoongi has the house, Tae has her book, Jin has Jimin but you. What do you have besides this?

It feels good to have something to look forward to, something to do beyond just twiddle your thumbs, love them, and wait for your life to pass.

Even if you’re scared.

~-~

Late that night you take one of your late night drives with just Hobi. You go to your spot and get greasy drive in food and enough french fries to put an elephant into a food coma. In the car with just Hobi, you tell him.

"I think I want to open my own cafe." He raises his eyebrows at you. Lips fumbling with a straw between his teeth, sucking down his soda. The car idles warm and the night outside hovers quietly. You haven't even told Yoongi this yet.

He puts his cup in the cup holder. "Before school or after?"

"After. If I even get in-"

He scoffs, rolls his eyes a little, you hit his shoulder. he goes for your armpit, and you jerk, ticklish. "Of course you're going to get in-"

You shimmy in your seat. Wound up. "Okay but anyways- maybe it could be a cafe and a bakery or maybe just a bakery. Or both- or-" you turn to him, the paper crinkle of paper between the two of you tossing crumbs on the floor that he doesn't comment on one bit.

"Alright. tell me about it." You start to talk, to outline it, starting slowly at first and then faster. Your words rapid fire.

Hobi turns down the music and listens.

~-~

You still haven’t heard back from culinary school. Still haven’t found out if you’ll get to attend this fall. You checked a few internet forums, and you know the first round of acceptances has already gone out. It’s easy to second-guess yourself, easy to assume that you won’t get in during the second round, at least not this year.

It’s a simple morning when it happens.

The curtains on the porch wave and waft in a breeze that comes all the way from the sea. Tae picks out your mug for you as you move slowly, bumping into anything that moves too quickly. Namjoon catches you before you crash into one of the chairs at the island, ducking down to kiss your forehead with a soft smile before moving you in Tae's direction, your de facto minder for the morning.

The weather is shifting into something colder, and maybe you cling to the nest a little bit more on these mornings when the threat of fall tickles your ankles.

Tae tugs you this way and that, tickling you under your arms so you squirm against her front while Yoongi pours your coffee, glances over his shoulder at you once and then again. Tightening your robe around your waist when you shiver. Jimin is away this weekend at a shoot in the city (for an underwear shoot of all things), and it has everyone a bit on edge. Just one night. He should be home by dinner. It's easy to tell themselves that, but-

Tae is always a little extra clinging and domineering when he's gone.

You’re ready to recline with her wherever she might put you and go back to sleep to pacify those instincts. You love cuddling with Tae. Love it so much you think you can’t bear it sometimes when she wiggles away in the early morning to go edit (the nerve). Like she did this morning, and you woke up pouty and a little grumpy over it. Eager to accuse her of neglecting you (and get some kisses afterwards).

You’d all but shuffled into her library room, settled on her lap, leg on either side of her waist in the chair, slightly bigger than the old one. The others got it for her when she realized how much she didn’t mind you curled against her front last winter, but you’d wound your arms around her shoulders and promptly gone back to sleep for a few minutes. Before Hoseok’s humming in the kitchen and the smell of coffee and pancake batter had tempted the two of you out of your little bubble.

Now, the cup of coffee that's on the table is doomed to go cold. Noodle yowls, and you tuck your face into Tae's tummy, putting the hem of her shirt over your eyes and closing them. She laughs and says something that's not meant for you to reply to. Your thoughts swirl with ebby patterns of comfort, too warm to think straight, finally finally horizontal on the couch.

Namjoon hums, and you feel a hand crest your knee, shifting you so that your hips are in line with your spine. Namjoon is so-

You press up into his hand like a cat, fingers digging into the pressure points on the back of your neck, not scruffing you, but close.

Happy shivers go up and down your back as Namjoon rubs, and you think you might chirp a little, or purr, or both. His answering hum is deep and sweet as he runs his fingers over your shoulders, squeezing just until the pressure releases. He laughs when you make another noise after he stops. His sleep-roughened voice is all grumbly as he says, “Still tired? Maybe we should take you back upstairs.”

Hoseok disappears from the room, his humming goes as does his caramel scent in the air, your fingers flex where they're tangled in Tae's PJs, needy. You curl up into her, all but bathing in the dewy smell of her skin, the conditioner on her hair, her rosy scent, oh so comforting. You’re used to falling asleep to the sound of the pack moving and talking all around you. You find comfort in the sound of their overlapping voices, going in and out of consciousness.

The next time you're lucid, Namjoon’s hand has crept a little higher on your leg, and Tae's warning growl lets you know there is at least some conflict going on. Her arm tightens around your waist. Her palm cupping the back of your head possessively. “Go get your own omega, this one’s mine.”

“You so sure about that?”

But whatever playful argument is going on, it’s none of your business if Tae and Namjoon feel the need to settle their hierarchy a little bit this morning. You doze, turning your face into Tae's skin and nosing against her navel.

You sleep, listening to the sound of them all. The sound of arms wrapped around bodies, the wet sound of smacking kisses, and the click of the range as Yoongi starts making breakfast. The quiet sound of the pack omega asking Namjoon to bring a heavy basket of laundry upstairs before Jungkook does. The pack alpha's happy little fluff of scent into the air as he does it. Always happy to do what Jinnie asks.

But the quiet can only last so long.

Jungkook and Hobi tear into the house, bare feet working against the floor as they try to overtake each other. They get caught in the doorway, both trying to pass through at the same time, getting tangled in the process. Jungkook wraps his arms around Hobi's waist, but the alpha, slighter but stronger, holds his ground. “Guys, you’re letting out all the cold air,” Jin reprimands, but it falls on deaf ears.

"It's here! It's here!" Tae jostles you. Knees jumping with her jerk of surprise.

Jungkook falls to the floor at the same moment that Hoseok valiantly grabs an envelope from his hands, giggling. And you-

You're still totally asleep on Tae's lap. Thoughts syrupy slow. Seokjin and Yoongi look up from the barely prepared breakfast. Incredulous until they see what Hoseok has valiantly held over his head. Yoongi makes an aborted noise, cutting the heat, although the butter sizzles on. Wiping his hands and coming over.

“Finally!” Tae chirps.

“Really?” Namjoon shouts from upstairs.

"Yes, Joonie, really!" Namjoon rushes down the stairs, almost tripping. Falling onto his ass with a loud thud thud thud. “Namjoon, slow down. You’re not coordinated enough for that,” Jin scolds, spatula held in threat.

“Guys don’t open it-”

“We’re not!’’

jungkook laughs, hops a few times and tries to bat at Hobi's head. “Wake her up-"

Tae's hand tightens around your back, curling over the nape of your neck protectively. “Don’t you dare-”

Namjoon rubs his ass, “baby girl, she’d want to be woken up for this-.”

Namjoon’s tone as pack alpha is not one that the others will obey today. Tae all but pouts at him. “Give her a few moments- she was up late last night.”

Yoongi snorts, “and whose fault is that?”

“Mine.” Namjoon says instantly.

Tae grits her perfect teeth, “no it was totally mine.”

Jin crosses his arms and waits until Namjoon is taking a sip of his coffee before he asks. “Are you both in rut or something?”

Jin thinks that there’s something satisfying in seeing the alpha snort coffee through his nose, to feel the jump of surprise down their bond. Even though Jin knows they’re not. Alphas just get like this sometimes. Especially heading into the wintertime.

You lift your head, a little grumpy at being woken so abruptly. One closed fist rubs at your eyes, cheeks faintly flushed, scent sweet and chirping. You peer up at them, surprised to find them looking down at you. Blinking at them slowly. Sniffling a little.

Everyone goes quiet all at once, then they break, "Oh my god, we're evil-" "The worst." Yoongi sets a hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair softly. "Go back to sleep, little lovely."

Jungkook picks you up, a normal occurrence. You make an affronted noodle-like noise as he places you on your feet, swaying a little. holding you up partially.

“Kookie,” you whine.

“It’s here! It’s here!” Hoseok holds a little white envelope and shoves it under your nose. You’re suddenly wide awake, suddenly unable to concentrate on anything else, standing in the living room in your pj’s, Tae holds around your knees, still standing between her legs, everyone else between the ottoman and the couch crowding your space. “Go on pup.” "Please, the anticipation is killing us."

You sway.

“Open it open it open it!” Jungkook bounces on his heels, the baggy shirt he wears crinkling with an audible sound. Your hands are shaking so badly as you rip it open. Your gaze flickers up to Namjoon's, then Yoongi's. Leaving it folded. But there's a lot of paper, and maybe they just make their rejection letters really, really long.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re not going to be sick,” Hoseok pecks the back of your neck, hand comfortably resting on your hip. Everyone has Their heads bend over the paper as you scan the document. You lift your eyes, and Yoongi is the first person you make eye contact with. He’s smiling ear to ear before you even tell them.

Your voice is small and quiet and more than a little scared, hands trembling.

“I got in.”

The cheers erupt immediately, and the small little voice in your head that wonders why you’re worth celebrating at all goes quiet as you watch them. Hoseok pumps his hand, Jungkook all but leaps into the air with a great big whoop.

Namjoon spins you, lifting you clear off your feet, spinning and spinning and spinning, tucking his face into your throat. You’re fully awake and giggling when he sets you down.

Yoongi dabs at his eyes, turning away for a second before he hugs you. Setting almost his whole weight across your shoulder. You feel his relieved breath against your front, and through your mating bond, he ducks in to press a quick kiss to your grinning mouth. It tastes like relief. Maybe he’d never told any of you how worried he was- not about you not getting in- but about what might have happened to your self-esteem if you hadn’t. But you know, you know how he must have worried, what he must have felt.

Yoongi cups his cheeks in both your hands, your flush goes unnoticed or unteased at. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You're doing your best not to be someone your family has to worry over these days. It's hard. But you really are giving it your all. You nod at his words, unable to communicate to him what that means to you.

“Of course, she got in," Jin sounds almost offended at the very suggestion of Yoongi's disbelief. "As expected of my pup.”

But there’s still his hand on your chin, tilting your face up to his so that Jin can wipe at your tears, but just as quickly as you’re crying in happiness, your anxiety spikes. Holding the pieces of paper, not only your acceptance letter, but the heavy set of other instructions about tuition, uniform, and necessary first-semester materials.

“I’ve never been to college before and I'm so old, what if everyone is younger than me?” But the pack knit close around you. Nipping that in the bud before even a seed of doubt can begin to grow.

Jimin huffs, blinking from a small screen in Jungkook’s palm. A barely visible, very bright hotel room around him. His voice sounds grainy through the phone. “It will be alright. You’ve got us. You’ll have me as soon as I’m home.” 

“Hurry Minnie.” Hobi huffs, “yeah, Tae and Namjoon are worried about you.”   “I am not!” Namjoon cries.

Tae clicks her tongue. “Oh you so are-” he shoves her lightly. It’s more of a tickle.

“Hey! I am a lady!” Her indignation only gets her so far as Namjoon all but covers her body with his. you take the phone from here, and Jimin promises a celebration tonight. Probably drinking and food and maybe a very very nicely wrapped congratulation present that the pack have shoved into the back of the coat closet. something they put together for you just incase you.

Jin nods, making eye contact with you, hand coming up to cup your cheek and rub away your happy tears. “We can help with everything.”

Jimin chimes in, “Yeah, Joonie already said he’d help you study.”

But you just pout at that, “it’s not medical school.”

Is it that the pack alpha's shoulders are puffed up, or is it just your imagination? He leans away from Tae, taming her flyway, looking flustered. “Still. It’s your next chapter. You’re going to do well; I just know it.”

“Your faith in me is either misguided or foolish.”

“That’s a good line.” Tae says, and you turn to her, grinning.

Hobi sets his hands on your shoulders, turning you to look at him. “You’ve been spending too much time editing, and for the record, our faith in you is just the right amount.”

“Can you blame me? It’s like! Really hard to put down!” You’re scared, but bickering and bantering help. And you think you might be learning what the good kind of fear is and how to separate it from the bad kind. Even if both types of fear feel the same. They’re different. Aren’t they?

The pack has faith that you can do this, and you’ve never had a reason to doubt them before. “I can’t believe it- I can’t believe I’m actually going to go to school.” You look up at Hobi, like something just occurred to you, “Holy shit, what if I’m dumb?”

 “You are not dumb.”

Tae gives you a loving swat to your behind. “Hey! No negative self-talk!”

“I’m so scared, I’m not even excited- all I am is afraid.” Yoongi kisses you slowly and gently, taking his hand in yours. Jin and Namjoon are already looking over your book list and thinking about back-to-school shopping and getting you a pair of school-appropriate non-slip shoes. Jungkook and Taehyung are a mess on the couch. Jungkook continues whatever sort of push-and-shove game he started with Hoseok, but with Tae this time. Leaving you standing with just Yoongi and Hobi on either side of you.

Hoseok understands better than anyone the need to preempt enjoyment with disappointment as he teases you, "too bad, you're gonna get like- really good at chopping onions."

You pout up at him, "and baking cakes."

"You're already good at baking cakes."

“I know. I'm still scared.” Yoongi and Hoseok look at you, and you look back up at them. “That means I’m going to have to be brave, doesn’t it?”

Yoongi slides his hand from cupping your chin to your cheek, to your jaw, stroking over your mating mark once, twice, and then a third time.

“Yes. You’re going to have to be very, very brave.”

~-~

Tae sits in her library room, not looking at her computer but out the window to the hydrangea bush outside. The pink, blue, and lavender blooms are going crusty and bleached at the edges from the late summer sunlight, the last of them that Hobi has yet to snip away. Tae doesn't look at her computer, because she knows what she'll find.

In between waiting for you to hear back from culinary school, Tae has also been waiting for her own news. There is an email in her inbox, at the top of it, littered among a dozen other rejection letters, is a very, very different sort of email.

We’re very interested in ‘Girls and Other Dangerous Things,’ and we're very pleased to have found you and this project in its infancy. Our publishing company is willing to explore your options with you. We would love to meet at your earliest convenience to discuss a plan to take this from page to print.

You would think that Google would help her predicament, but a quick search of the company has yielded nothing but anxiety. New York Times bestseller lists from a decade ago and not much recent. Tae leans her elbows on her desk, the edge where you've worn away the wood slightly from leaning back against it. The mark of you slinging yourself across her lap to sit on her chair with her while she writes.

She hasn't told anyone yet; she got the email just this morning, but it's already 11am. She's sequestered herself here just because she knew the second she walked out into the kitchen that everyone, Jimin, Yoongi, you, Jin, would be able to tell that something was wrong.

Or that something’s gone very, very right for once. Tae's not sure which it is.

You have sort of a 6 sense when Tae's unhappy or scared or dysphoric at all and like normal you sort of just appear right in the nick of time, right before Tae risks being on the verge of a real panic attack. Rocking back and forth in her chair as she re-reads the email again and again and again.

You open the door to her library room without a second thought, although everyone else in the pack is firmly banned from interrupting Tae for all but the most necessary emergency (Jungkook feeling the lack of cuddles and wanting attention excluded from this list) you are not subjected to the same set of rules.

You let Noodle in too, tail raised high, cocking a hip against the doorway, clad in one of Yoongi's flannels and little else. Letting in the sound of the others' bickering and the smell of frying dough. Looking absurdly good in a way that makes Tae's pulse sort of hammer beneath her skin. She turns at the sound, jerky, chin resting on her hand, shoulders up to her ears.

“Hey,” you say in the doorway, smiling at her, your front covered in powdered sugar like snow. But ‘hey’ is never really just ‘hey’ when it comes to you.

"Hey," she says back, scent sour. She watches the moment that you scent it on the air, and a minute or two later, with the door closed and locked, you're slung across her lap in your same position as always. Listening to her rapid-fire words as she reads off the email, talks you through all the information about it. Her insecurities, everything she's worried about nothing kept from you. Eyes flicking from sentence to sentence.

“I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but they published that one series that I really liked just before I came out-”

"The one with the gay alpha hockey players?"

 "Yes, that one!" You wind your hands around Tae's back until your whole body is pressed against hers. You're a warm, comforting weight that makes Tae's whole body feel complete. Not a single ache or pain that she can pay attention to at all. Tae's heart gives a very painful but very lovely squeeze.

You pull back from her front, reaching up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and Tae feels so in love with you in that moment that she can't bear it. “Well, if you're asking me, I think your hopes should be sky high.”

“It’s not that good.”

Your knees squeeze at her hips in reprimand. You pull back and peer up at her. Tae tries not to meet your eyes but fails miserably. It's hard to be upset with you occupying all of her attention, but somehow she manages. “Tae, I’ve read it, and it’s amazing. You know it’s mean if you argue with me. I can’t believe I’m gonna have to wait like- a whole year to read the second one.”

Her hands loop around your waist. And her nose bumps against yours. “So I’m a meanie huh?”

“The meanest, you won’t even like- let me read the epilogue.”

“Because the epilogue is sad. And for the record, I’m not going to make you wait a whole year, you know I’m just waiting until I know if I should pursue it to start on the second one…” Tae pauses and realizes her words. Realizing that she has just heard back. “I sent them stuff like 4 months ago- and I only sent them the first 10 chapters and-”

Kissing her is an efficient way of shutting up the part of her that is endlessly insecure. Tae's insecurities have never bothered you ever, but you're vibrating with excitement here. Tae knows just by looking at you that you're not going to be able to contain yourself in telling the rest of the pack.

You turn around in Tae's seat and reach for her laptop. "Pup- what are you doing? Pup- no-"

You type quickly, sending an eager email back quicker than she can think to grab your hands and truly stop you. The two of you wait with bated breath, but the admin or secretary- whoever is reaching out on behalf of a Mr. Bang gets back to Tae with lightning speed, offering 6 available times over the next week at their Boston office, with further concessions if none of them fit Tae's schedule.

“Do you want me to go with you to your meeting?”

Tae's head tips down; she’s worried about hurting your feelings. “Is it weird that I kind of wanna do it alone?”

You nuzzle into her hairline, and Tae's breath comes easier. “No. Not at all.”

~-~

"Are you sure?" Jungkook asks, hanging out the window of Jin's car to look at Tae standing on the street corner.

Jin’s driving, the hazards on his car flashing every other rapid heartbeat. Out front of the building to drop her off for the meeting of a lifetime. Jin and Jungkook took her because they were the least likely to set off her already fried senses (Having the alpha's around might make Tae feel too instinctual, and she already feels like a dog pressed into a corner) and they're less likely to feed off of her anxiety and make it their own (like you and Jiminie).

Someone behind them honks loudly, but Jin just adjusts the mirror and quietly commits their license plate to memory.

Some habits die hard.

“I could wait in the lobby.” Jungkook nibbles at his lower lip. Clearly worried. Tae shuffles in her heels on the sidewalk, pulse hammering as she looks up. She has clear instructions on how to access the 58th floor of this building and get to the publishing house. Jimin is pacing the floors back home. Tae knows this, and yet her soulmate had let her come on her own. Tae's almost proud as her hands tighten on the handle of her briefcase.

“No Koo, I’ll be alright.”

"Love you! You've got this!" Jin levels a look at Tae over his sunglasses, "kill 'em, sweetheart." The car pulls away, and Tae is left standing there alone.

Some first steps are all yours.

Well, mostly all hers. She has no idea that You're down the block with Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi. Hiding out in a very, very fast and very, very expensive rental car with tinted windows and a sound system that could make Beethoven shudder.

You couldn't risk her recognizing your and Hobi's car, too red not to stick out. But you also couldn't let her do this completely alone- or at least an hour away from some possibly needed support.

You lean over the center console with binoculars, Yoongi in the driver's seat and Jimin in the passenger's side, swatting at your arm to see.

"Not a word of this to Tae," he'd made you promise. You'd mimed zipping up your mouth and thrown away the key, which Hobi had mocked, caught, and pretended to swallow. He's in the backseat with you, just along for the ride and the playlist that haunts you now. The base is thumping louder than usual because none of you are worried about blowing the speakers.

When you don't have the binoculars, you can hardly see Tae. Hardly more than a glimmer of pink on the sidewalk. Pink blazer, pink pants, pink shoes with red bottoms. Her brand new and very expensive Prada briefcase on one arm that you and Jimin might have splurged on for the occasion, hanging limply by her side.

You do love spoiling your girl.

You watch Tae through binoculars as she looks up at the big building, and then heads inside. "Hang on, I just want to make sure she's-" Jimin snatches the binoculars from you.

"She looks like she's going to throw up." He's already reaching for the door handle, but your mate has the good sense to hit the lock before he can get out. "Open the door, Yoongi,"

"Jimin, we agreed-" He tries to roll down the window, no doubt intending on climbing out of it, but finds his method of ingress also locked. Stalwart.

"Did you put the child lock on me?"

You snort, half-fighting with him to get the binoculars for a second. "You want a booster seat too?"

"Jimin, just think for a moment, if she sees you, she'll-" whatever Yoongi might have said gets interrupted by a sharp rap on your window. He rolls it down to reveal a very, very cross-looking Namjoon. A badge on his lapel that reads 'Dr.Kim' flashes in the midday sun. Arms folded, tapping his foot against the cobblestone. It’s so strange to see him in his doctor's coat and not his holey pajamas.

“Joonie!” Yoongi’s ear-to-ear grin does little to impress him.

The pack alpha’s glare does not decrease in intensity. Dragon eyes are narrowing at Jimin and Yoongi in the front seat. Hobi cowers, hiding behind the tinted window and patent leather of the driver's side. You too- shrink into the shadows, hoping to be undiscovered. “What are you doing here? I thought we talked about this.”

“Just hanging out." "I could ask you the same thing.”

“The hospital’s around the corner. I’m getting coffee.”

You reach around the console again. “Oh can you get me some? And a pastry!” Namjoon’s stare has your excitement dimming. Crouched behind Yoongi’s seat, Hobi stifles his laughter by biting on his knuckle. You shrink into the shadows in the backseat.

“Don’t think I don’t see you too pup.”

“Shit,” Hobi curses, leaning around the seat. “Sorry Joon.”

“We just had a discussion about boundaries guys.”

“I know but-”

A blue mini-coop pulls up beside you, and Jimin bypasses Namjoon and Yoongi’s stare down to peer at Jin in the front of his car. “How was she- did she seem nervous; did she have her phone on- did she-”

Jin's word cut off Jimin's anxiety at the root. “Everything went perfectly. Like I said it would.”

Jungkook gets out of the car, pecks a delirious-looking Namjoon on the cheek before sliding into the backseat with you and Hobi, “scoot over,”

“Why did nobody tell me you were doing a stakeout?”

“It’s not like we planned this,” Jin says. "we just all had the same idea."

Your car goes silent. And Namjoon leans against the window. “Okay well, I didn’t make the car reservation until Tae set the date.”

“Where did you even keep this thing?”

“At the flower shop.”

“Guys-”

Jin beeps his car, leveling Namjoon with a look over his sunglasses, cutting off the pack alpha’s reprimand. “Namjoon, just get in the god damn car before she spots us.”

By the time you look back at the front of the building, Tae has already disappeared inside.

Later at home, you unbutton her blazer for her, going button by button as you listen to her vent. You’re very convincing in your disguise, dressed in matching pj’s with Jimin. You'd mutually agreed not to tell her about your presence, even Namjoon.

It's just a white lie, and hardly the most damaging one you've ever agreed upon.

(The pack alpha sends you glares every few minutes when you meet his eyes, and you know everyone has a punishment in their future).

The pack is a flurry of movement around Tae, reclining on the couch. Jimin helps her take off her shoes, red bottoms glimmering as she talks. Squeezing her arches soothingly as her anxiety reaches a fever pitch.

Her diamond earrings are carefully unbuttoned by Yoongi. Makeup wipes are dished out by Jungkook, handed off to Jin who takes off her makeup gently, given the hour. Tae doesn't have to lift a finger while she gives her retelling of the day, the intimidating meeting with the kind head editor and lead acquisitions manager- whatever that is.

You don't have to lift a finger either, her own personal stress ball or weighted blanket. Too necessary to Tae's comfort, arms wrapped around her waist. Cheek squished against her pink shirt, linen and pretty. You'll have to remember to add it to the nest later.

“-And they want me to go through the whole thing in like a month, and I don’t know how that timeline makes sense.” Her lower lip wobbles, tears threatening at her lash line. “I could work for like 24 hours a day and still I wouldn’t be able to change everything they want me to change and that’s not even to mention the second half.”

"Did you ask for more time?"

She nods, "They wouldn't give it to me."

Jimin stands from her side. “Tell me their names.”

You tug at his sleeve, “Jiminie, save the murder for later.”

Yoongi’s shoulders fall, stressed, “Jesus Christ guys-”

You roll your eyes, “I said later, not never.”

"You signed the contract?" Jin asks, not distracted by you two, instead combing out the tangles in her curls delicately while guiding a glass of lemon water to her lips.

"No! Worse!" Tae bends to reach for her bag and upends the whole thing, hair wry out of her clips. An inch-thick packet of papers falls out along with a MAC lipstick, a YSL one, and a hairbrush. As well as two different wallets- Hers and Jimin’s. "They told me to sign it and hand it in with the final draft."

Her lower lip wobbles, and you've never smelled her scent more peppery (well, maybe the night she came out, but-). Tae sniffles. "I'm not sure it matters. They want so much from me and I know I can’t give them what they want." Tae hates this, to get here all this way and then fail at the final step.

Jin snatches it from the floor and steals the glasses off of Namjoon's head, scanning them quickly. The pack waits with bated breath, but Jin has hardly looked at it for more than a minute before he flips to the last page, scoffs, and promptly throws it into the nearby chair. Several pages Fling loose. "Tell them you won't sign it till the deadline."

"Jinnie-"

Jin folds his arms across his chest. "This isn't good enough. I can get you double."

“Jinnie-”

Jin leans forward to cup Tae's jaw in his hand, kissing her nose and then her mouth. “Don’t doubt me.”

Yoongi smiles. "You're learning a lot from this whole model thing."

Jimin flushes, starts to say something, but Jin just raises an eyebrow at him, "You should see the deal I got you for your next makeup campaign. My pups are worth a premium."

"Yeah, Minnie's expensive," Jungkook teases. 

Jin puts his hand on Tae's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I already professionally manage one of my pups, What’s one more?"

Tae looks like she's about to be sick. Realizing dreams goes a whole lot differently than you think it will. This feels dreadful. Tae wishes she'd never sent anyone anything. "Jinnie-"

You try instead. cupping her cheek and turning her face to look at you. Leaning your chin on her shoulder, peering up at her in a way you know is a little seductive and distracting. But given the circumstances, it can hardly hurt. "Tae, you're an amazing writer. You can do this; I know you can."

She shakes her head out of your hand. "No one can edit 300,000 words in a month, that’s like- almost physically impossible for one person."

Hoseok snorts, standing up from the couch. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got 7 people who love you and know you really fucking well then. Otherwise, you'd be shit out of luck.”

Tae blinks up at him, and Hobi pats your knee on the way past you, your eyelashes flutter, and you resettle your arms around Tae's waist. Threading your fingers through the buttons of her button-down to pet at her stomach.

Tae's tone is a little incredulous. “I can’t teach you how to edit, not like me. You don't know me this way.”

There's a moment of quiet where Hobi looks at her, and the pack take it in.

“Then let us. let us know you this way. You could try and we might not get it right at first. Think of it as a head start. Tae, you know what you like and what you want, just show us."

Tae thinks of that day so long ago, right after she came out. she remembers watching you and Hobi at the beach together. Getting funnel cake and calling Hobi out on his fondness for you that he didn't want to address. It feels good in a hurtful way, what he's saying isn't wrong. Tae just wasn't ready for it. Maybe like when Yoongi calls you out on your self-deprecation or when Jin scolds Namjoon for being too esoteric. Hobi stares, and Tae listens.

After a moment he continues. "What other time are you going to be able to show 7 different people and get their take on things while you can still change it?”

~-~

Love makes up for a whole lot. Skill and otherwise. Tae thinks as she watches the 7 of you dig into her story.

She's kept it closer to her chest than her fucking implants over the past year or so, and watching you all read it feels intimate in a way that's sort of awful, sort of amazing. Maybe being dissected would feel less vulnerable.

She should have started this sooner,. Should have let the pack read months ago. It’s a pretty intimate look at her soul, her wants and desires, her dreams. The way that she thinks and her own internal monologue and this one too closely intertwined to differentiate the two. The story is half a diary and half a promise. Somewhere between a testimonial and a daydream.

None of you are readers, but that doesn’t matter.

It starts a bit like this: food and drink piled on the kitchen table. Paper after paper and chapter after chapter. Tae's whole collection of glittery gel pens poured out onto the table. Blue for Namjoon, purple for Jungkook, pink for Jin, and so on. Panic and congratulations call for champagne. You and Yoongi share a singular glass. Pleasantly buzzed by the time you're even halfway through.

You each start with a chapter and work your way through it line by line. Making notes of what's not clear and what is. What works and what doesn’t. Halfway through, Jin complains that the main love interest is too much like Hoseok for him not to fall in love with him with every wry line. Tae admits, "Yeah I actually did use things Hobi has said for some of the dialogue. Jungkook too."

Surprisingly, the people who are the best at editing are Hobi and Yoongi. Namjoon makes it sound a little too clinical, and Jungkook's edits can border on nonsensical (Although occasionally he pulls a line out of his ass that even Tae's jealous of). Jimin and Jin are better at spotting typos than any of them. But with Hobi and Yoongi, Tae reads through their chapters and finds very little wrong with their additions and changes.

When Tae confesses this, Hobi just grins and kicks back in his chair and flicks the papers back and forth between his hands. "I’d tell you I told you so, but judging from how much you call Jack a pretentious prick in this- you already know. I’m totally going to make a playlist for this-”

Yoongi bumps shoulders with him, sitting next to each other in two chairs with you sprawled across both of their laps, a little drunk, a little ridiculous. “Gonna put mambo number 5 over the fight scenes, huh?”

“Or Naked in Manhattan." You giggle and sneak sips of his champagne (is it really sneaking if he hands you his glass after every sip?) "Fuck I totally want to put pink pony club on."

"Do it lady." Yoongi says.

Hobi leans back, looking a bit in love. You’re unaware of it. Kicking your feet, jerking when Yoongi tickles your ankle. "That’s like ugh- my favorite song of the day."

Jungkook snorts. "More like your favorite song of the month. You made me play it three times during kickboxing."

"Hey! Be nice- it reminds me of Tae." Tae flushes and promptly hides her face with a sheet of her book, littered with check marks from pink glittery gel pen edits. Namjoon reaches over and bops you with his pen.

"After! Play naked in Manhattan because that’s actually my favorite song." The pack gives you control of the playlist. Namjoon gets up obediently to refill everyone's glasses.

Hobi leans into your personal space, fingers itching up your ankle. Sneaking under the loose pants of your pajamas. Yoongi’s hands hover on your waist. Ticking from rib to rib to an imaginary beat. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

Yoongi all but growls into your ear, smile pressed to your cheek. “I love it when you guys flirt using music it’s like- totally fucking hot.”

“Guys!” The three of you look up. The whole pack is watching the three of you, but you make no move to untangle yourself. And when you lean back, you can feel the warmth of Yoongi’s chest and it jiggle as he laughs against your spine.

Everything here feels so nice, taking away Tae's stress, the sight of Jungkook half-falling asleep at the table. Jimin scans the chapters and reaches the end too quickly, Namjoon with his hair all messy and pushed up, talking animatedly about the actual proposed biology of the fantastical creatures that Tae writes about. Everything feels so good living here. Loving here. Being here for her.

“We’re serious! It’s like totally cinematic!”

~-~

Whatever it was, whatever change the mating has had on Jin and Namjoon, the bulk result is that they’ve both gotten more protective and even more possessive. They’re calmer about it- sure. But with each other to feed off, you hardly have any room for argument. All they have to do is look at each other to be on the same page now. The pups try to band together sometimes, but Jin and Namjoon are good pack omega and alpha.

They rarely let anything slip through the cracks.

So when you’d initially floated the idea of getting yourself a car to make the almost 40-minute drive to and from school every day, it had been all but immediately caboshed. Namjoon was the first to voice his misgivings. Looking nervously between Jin and Yoongi as you outlined what you'd need over breakfast. “It's all the way into the city, it's like even farther than the hospital.”

"I can do it! And if I can't, there's always the train.”

“That’s romantic.” Tae had swooned, Jin had scoffed. “What it is is dangerous. Especially after lab.”

"When does that end again?" Namjoon asks.

"Not until 8," Yoongi recites from memory. "On the train, you probably won't be home until ten."  

“But that way I can study!" You’re a bit in love with the train. Yoongi had taken you on a date not too long ago, into the city to a little food tour from bakery to bakery. You'd taken the train then and met up with Namjoon near the hospital and gone home together the quick way by car. But you'd had your face pressed to the window the whole time, pointing out the street art and the little glimpses between the windows. You'd fallen asleep on his shoulder on the way home.

But now, Yoongi is panicking a little. Thinking of if that happened when you were alone. All it would take is a missed stop, a low phone battery, and one bad person with an agenda. Sure nothing might happen- but is it really worth the risk?

Even Jimin raises his eyebrows, “The train is dangerous at night, and have you ever driven into the city on your own before?”

“No, but I can work up to it!” Even Jungkook had tilted his head to the side, unsure. Exchanging glances with the whole pack while you'd prattled on to Tae, whose smile was just about ready to slip off her face as you talk about a car. Something safe, something small. And wouldn't getting matching cars with Seokjinie be so cute?

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hobi who had first volunteered. “You already have a car, our car. I can drive you every morning. What time would we have to leave by? 7:30? That way I can be back for my shift by 9.”

“It would be a lot of miles to put on the car, and a lot of time for you.”

Hobi had just looked at you over a bite of breakfast. Eyebrows raised, headphones already looped around his neck. His look was impassive and sharp, and left no room up for debate. “Then put them on the car, I don’t mind.” (He got a pat on the knee for that one from Namjoon.)

As much as the pack hates to admit it, the idea of you not being here in the house at all hours of the day…It feels off. Feels new in a bad way.

They know it's what you want and a good, necessary change for you, but they’ve never known life at the house without you and Yoongi puttering about at all hours of the day. Without having someone to come home to. The constant soothing presence of an omega in the nest is something they’re reluctant to let go of…but maybe now that Jin is also home always and Tae is too- things will be easier.

Yoongi won’t have you as his little shadow anymore. He won’t have you hovering by his elbow at 11 for lunch or 3 for a snack. There will be no one waiting in the window seat when they come home, or the smell of baking things when Jimin returns from his schedule.

But baking is your passion. This has slowly gone from a dream you’re very scared to think of, to something you want desperately. The pack will help you achieve this goal, with the caveat that they keep you very carefully safe, mentally and physically, within the confines of what they deem appropriate.

This is a real future for you; you deserve more than just life as a nestmate. You want this future for yourself, too. The pack will do anything to give it to you. Anything.

Except letting you drive on your own.

This just means that you get to spend more time together with Hobi. Fiddling with Hobi's stereo and enjoying your morning coffee (and maybe studying in the front seat) and just being quiet together, commuting. Getting breakfast sandwiches when you have time and nodding off against the window when you stay up too late the night before, with Jungkook watching videos, or fucking and studying. Sometimes, at the same time, if Namjoon is feeling particularly motivated.

Or eating too many of the treats and sweets that you make in class and bring home for taste tests, leaving the floor of Hobi's car covered with crumbs from croissants, certainly spoiling your dinner. Exposing yourself to a gentle punishment and Namjoon and Jin's firm hands. Even Jungkook's one time when you ate all of something that he was looking forward to trying, when you do your unit on dietary restrictions.

You can imagine all of it already. So after a bit of fussing, you agree. It's scary, but somehow you can’t wait.  

~-~

Everything is sort of a blur after that. Fall starts, and you only have a few short weeks until your program begins. The pack drags you out for back-to-school shopping. textbooks and chefs knives. You pick up a coat and a chef's hat. And Jin demands that they get it embroidered with your initials just cuz.

It’s just culinary school. It’s not anything too difficult- but you’d looked over classes, attended a virtual meeting with your counselor from the kitchen table to pick and choose. Namjoon and Jin grip your hands under the table. Yoongi lingered close by even though Jin dominated the conversation. You tolerated it very, very well as they handle most of it for you. Getting just a little bit anxious by the end of it. And after, Tae pinched your cheeks and called you brave.

You've been hearing that word a lot recently. Brave brave brave. Being brave doesn't mean not being scared, doesn't mean not being anxious. It's what you do with your fear that counts.

(When she thinks about how far you've come, how much you've blossomed over the past few months, she gets a little misty-eyed. Sometimes she and Yoongi share looks over your head, or Tae sees him turning away, blinking rapidly, and taking a deep breath. The pack has been awfully careful with him these last few weeks. But Tae knows Yoongi can't help it. For all his stoicism, he really is so soft for you it hurts. Maybe it would be easier if the rest of them weren't equally as proud and overemotional over this whole thing.)

Your counselor had only been a little bit chagrined by the fact that Jin and Namjoon had done most of the talking during your meetings. “We get a lot of pack applicants.” She’d said after requesting a verbal 'yes' from you and not your pack omega.

But still, she'd been remarkably tolerant of Jin's many, many questions about the student body, tutoring centers, and other resources you’d have access to should you need them. His mating mark is plain and pink and new against his throat.

After that, your tuition is paid, and all too soon you count down to your first day. The pack takes you to tour the campus so that you’ll know how to get to all your classes before your first day. It’s about 10 minutes farther than Namjoon’s hospital, but he still says that he could drive you in once or twice a week, especially in your early days.

On your first day, Yoongi and Hoseok drive you. Yoongi is still in his pj’s in the back seat, letting you take the front. Your new school bag is packed with lunch, pretty Moleskine notebooks, and gel pens. All from Tae, who also did your hair and makeup today. Bound behind your head in two crisscrossing, pretty-looking Dutch braids to keep it out of your face.

Hoseok puts the car in park. And it’s almost audible the way that you hold your breath and try not to flinch at the sound. “We’ll pick you up at three. After your chopping class.”

“Knife skills. An hour and a half.” Yoongi recites from the back seat. You don’t know that the whole pack has memorized your schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays are your long days, Friday are your easy ones. Basics of French sauces and Cooking chemistry on Thursday and Tuesday.

Hoseok’s car is already getting more than a few backward glances from other students. Parked out front in a 15-minute parking zone meant only for drop off. The other students of the culinary school are dressed identically to you in double-breasted black button-down chef's coats. Buttoned to the collar. A glittery necklace from Jimin around your neck.

You’re going to stand out- Hoseok knows this because you could never be ordinary. He sort of hopes that your classmates will treat you well. That you'll make friends and find a place and a reason of your own here.

Hoseok looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Heart giving a lonely, grateful pang. “Don’t stab anyone, that’s more of a second week thing.”

It has the desired effect, you snort. “And so last year.” Your scent eases away from being quite so wet with anxiety, and Hoseok feels himself smile despite the tense atmosphere of the car.  

Yoongi looks at you in the mirror. “Do you want me to walk you to your first class?”

“If we both walk her the car will definitely get towed.”

“That’s why I said I’ll walk her. You can stay with your boring flashy car.”

“Oh, absolutely not- you’ll have to rock paper scissors me for that.”

You swallow, and both Hoseok and Yoongi stop their bickering to pay attention to you. “It’s alright, I know where it is.”

You don’t open the car door yet, nervous, knees jumping up and down, hand hovering on the door handle. Yoongi pulls himself around the front seat. Hoseok squeezes your knees and says, "Alright. You have 5 minutes to vent."

The words burst from you without your say so, the same anxiety jackrabbiting its way outside of your heart and head, bouncing around with nowhere to go. “What if I hate it? what if I don’t like it?- what if I paid all this tuition and made all this fuss and it’s for nothing? What if-” you continue, and Hoseok and Yoongi let you vent until it's clear you're done.

Tears are beading in your eyes, you turn and look towards the window to hide them, you don’t want to cry, because Tae did your makeup this morning, and you don’t want to mess it up.

Your makeup is something she doesn’t always have time to do anymore, between meetings with her editor and revisions of this and that chapter. Her negotiations with Jin and the publishing company are sort of ongoing, and there's already talk about Hoseok cutting back his hours at the flower shop just to help Jin with all the new paperwork. They split their time evenly between Jimin and Tae.

“Hey.” Hobi's voice is soft, “look at me.”

You do, and he’s smiling that same gentle smile as always as he cups your cheek rubs your tears away with a thumb. You sniffle. From the back seat Yoongi says, “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Hobi looks over at you, voice very serious. “If you hate it, you can call us and we’ll pick you up. No questions asked. We won't say anything and we don't have to talk about it at all." No one, not even Jin and Namjoon. I'll protect you. Hoseok promises to himself. "If you decide this isn’t a path you want to go on, you can stop at any time. This week or next week or six semesters from now.”

You go quiet for a second and then correct him. “It’s only a four-semester program.”

Yoongi nods, and Hoseok throws his hands up, “Well then, whatever! what I’m saying is you can do what you want and we’ll support you.”

You have 5 more minutes to make the two-minute walk before you’ll be late. You look to Hobi. Teeth worrying away at your lower lip. Yoongi chimes in. “It’s easier to get off a train after one missed stop than five. If you hate it, then fuck it. We’ve got you.”

“Promise? You’re not gonna be mad if I back out?”

“No. Not at all.” Yoongi means it, but doesn’t elaborate.

Hoseok holds out his pinky finger, the red tattoo around it just a little more faded than when you'd gotten it together. You loop it with yours, and for a moment, it looks like it's wrapped around both your fingers. "Promise." 

“Okay.” “Okay.” Your hand is on the door.

“I’m going to get out of the car now.”

“Okay,” “good luck,” “we love you.” “Text us if you get even a little bit anxious.”

You shut the door and wave to them as you start to walk away. Yoongi rolls down the window. "Wait! First day of school photo!" You turn around and flash a peace sign as Yoongi leans half out the window and takes a picture. Another one for his wall of photos. You're laughing as you turn and walk away. Shoes squeaking on the smooth concrete. Red Prada backpack that Jimin and Tae got you as a first day of school present, thwacking stiff against your spine as you hurry. Hobi laughs. He’ll tease you about that tomorrow.

Yoongi watches you go, braids swinging behind your head. They watch you glance up anxiously at a pair of second semester students (distinguished by their chefs coats, maroon instead of black) You let them go in front of you on the sidewalk, turning back to them and waving. Hoseok lifts his hand, although he’s sure you can’t really see it through the window tint, at least you can see Yoongi giving you a double thumbs up in the back.

The interior of the car is silent until Yoongi and Hoseok watch you go inside the building. Hoseok doesn't put the car in drive. Hands folded over the steering wheel, feeling something in his chest tighten as he watches you walk away. You glance back just once before you go inside. Like you're making sure they're still there.

“We’re gonna wait here until she gets out of class? Right?”

Yoongi scoffs, stretching his arms out behind his head, but Hoseok can tell he’s anxious as a live wire. After a second thought he climbs over the center console into the front seat.

“Of course we fucking are.”

They’ve got nowhere better to be. Hobi and Yoongi stay parked right there in the loop for as long as they can, checking their phones every few minutes just in case. Until security comes over and hassles them.

Yoongi speaks to them through the window, and the security guard tells him that they can park in the administrative lot and no one will bother them there (beta privileges).

They wait until you’re in your second class of three, bouncing from playlist to cat video to text message (Yoongi has more than a dozen from your packmates, and he has no doubt that your phone is littered with the same kind of encouragement but not the overwhelming concern for your wellbeing that they're expressing here. Everything is fine. Everything is great).

For the day before they leave for lunch, greasy and cheesy. Their Head bopping at the music and French fries spilling at bad dance moves, which turns into giggling, which turns into making out and napping. (Well, really, they go a little farther than kissing, but I don't need to bore you with the raunchy details and a slightly shameful visit to a coffee shop restroom)

It’s really not all that long to wait. Not for you. When you text them a thumbs-up emoji when they check in halfway through your day, Yoongi sags against the seat. Grinning.

They’re napping when you bound over to the car, whipping open the door and startling both of them bad enough that Yoongi hits his knee against the plastic of the front seat.

Yoongi almost jumps out of his skin, “Fuck!”

“How was it!” Hoseok wipes the crusties from his eye, turning to look at you, and he can tell from your scent already that oh- this is-

"Amazing!" you throw your bag down with a thud, and there go your shoes next, kneeling on the backseat while you unbutton your coat. You undo your braid while you talk, excitement making your voice fast and jumpy.

“They taught us how to make pastry cream! And we got to start our unit on seasoning pans, and they did this demo with vegetable shortening and butter and margarine, and I totally understand why cocoa like- doesn’t emulsify easily now.  And during chemistry, they explained elements and it was so confusing cuz I haven’t been in a science class in like 10 years, but I wanna ask Namjoon about it."

You babble excitedly, and Yoongi and Hoseok share a special secret glance as you continue to prattle on, throwing your shoes off and producing a pair of slippers seemingly out of nowhere.

"There’s this other omega in the class who’s my age, and she’s got really nice hair, and we were talking and she actually goes to Jk-ies gym too! And I think we’re gonna sit together at lunch tomorrow, and then after chemistry in food safety, we talked about meat and Jin is totally gonna give us food poisoning one of these days cuz you know he’s not careful about cutting boards and-”

~-~

Late at night, you curl up under Namjoon’s arm. Reading through your textbook while he reads his medical drama novel (A guilty pleasure). You told the whole pack everything over dinner, and might have requested a settling that Jin was only too happy to give very publicly over the arm of the sofa. Leaving you loose-limbed and now a little spacy, pressed close against Namjoon for comfort and aftercare and warmth.

He doesn't push, at least not much. It's only then, under the privacy of night, that he gets the chance to truly ask you without all the others there. “Did you like it?”

He’d heard all about it at the dinner table with the others, but Namjoon wants to know for sure about the risk of you backing out. Not that you couldn't. But knowing early that you're having misgivings about school will make any fallout easier for the pack alpha to mediate.

At dinner, the rest of the pack had you too excited to guess at your emotional state. There was a shaggy homemade cake, with 'Happy First Day' written on top in off center pink frosting- made by Tae and Jinnie. Complete with crumbs in the icing and maraschino cherries on top. A cute surprise (that had needed a fair amount of whipped cream, not to taste so dry).

Everyone had let you talk it out as long as you needed to. There had been a fair amount of teasing over your new friend, but everyone had been chubby-cheeked with their smiles and happy.

“I did.” You peck under his jaw. Namjoon hums and lets you nuzzle. Tries not to let the way you trail your nose up and down his mating mark affect him and fails dramatically.

"Pup. You have a lot of pages to read."

"I know, I'm reading." You take an open-mouthed breath of his scent, lips brushing his mating mark. Namjoon's scent hasn't settled yet, but like this- you can nearly smell Seokjin on him. That hint of milk, the coffee in his scent mellowed out slightly. A suggestion of something thick and sweet and tantalizing.

Namjoon cups the back of your head and forcefully moves it to face the book. "You know to read you have to actually look at your text book" You giggle and squirm. His hand settles on the small of your back, urging you closer to him. After a moment, you settle yourself against his pectoral. Flipping the page like you didn't just unhinge his whole emotional state.

Namjoon just sighs out a heavy breath and goes back to his book.

“It was good, I think I’m excited for tomorrow.” You say the second part quieter, not looking at him pointedly, like you’re not sure. Namjoon taps your textbook with two of his fingers. He smells like aftershave and coffee with cream, like home and alpha. His big hand tightens it's hold on you.

“Are you gonna be a good student?”

“I’m not sure yet.” You look down at your book, a soft smile on your face. “But I think I’m going to try.”

Joonie hums in approval, and when you finish your chapter, Namjoon kisses your temple, And shuts off the reading light.

~-~

Notes:

The thing about this chapter is that the reason why I didn’t want to work on it is that I’ve been applying to school again as someone whose almost 30 and I’m so fucking anxious about it. All my applications are done but I don’t find out until may/April if I got into either of the schools I applied too.

this is another chapter where i hate the beginning but i like the ending.

(tw: talks of aging and death) i've only talked about this a little and this is very angsty and involves the pack's death. but by the time all the others have died into the pack's 80's, hoseok, the m/c, and tae all do move to one of those cottages on the cliffs and give the house to one of their kids. the m/c and hobi go out on little walks every day until one morning hobi goes on his own and never comes back. The m/c and tae are the last two left and die on the same day and their pups have half the m/c's ashes interred with the rest of the pack and the other half sprinkled in the ocean to be with hobi forever. i think of the m/c and tae talking on the day hobi doesn't come back and them both being very used to their pack dying at this point and the m/c being like "i always knew i'd wake up one day and he wouldn't be there, but i really wish that day was tomorrow,"

The conversation with Jin and the conversation with Yoongi where both sections to this that sort of came about because I’m editing the beginning of prey animals still you know? like especially the part where jin is telling her he's sorry for shoving her is a direct result of me writing that, if you haven't read prey animals yet you really should!

i think when yoongi's talking to her on the stairs, what he's addressing is the danger of assuming you know best for someone you love, and his own admission that maybe he hadn't been able to properly help the m/c at the beginning of the series.

i don't want to talk much more about the m/c's anorexia in this story, and it's not because i think she never relapses, but there are some things that need to be wrapped up you know? i think you can feel that at the end of yoongi's part and i hope it doesn't make anyone too sad. i know there are a few people (me included) that don't want to let go of bily.

*m/c watching tae eat* i'm gonna nut

but lowkey i wish i had watermellon so bad after writing this like why is it winter :( i just want itttttt

i fell like jimin's dialouge doesn't quite fit all the way, but one of the things i do want to emphasize is that jimin does like this job better than his last alot and it does make him happy. like he's very clearly having happy sensory time with tae right there after being overwhelmed by a very good morning. idk, if you're autistic you'll get it. good things make you overwhelmed sometimes too.

i'm actually really proud of the m/c because you know, she did start out this story wanting to die and now she has this kind of vibrancy and tinacity for life. for dreaming. she's grown up so much *sniffle sniffle*

i think it matters alot that hobi is the one she told about her idea for the bakery first, like thats so soulmate of them you know?

i needed to make sure that heated rivalry exists in the bily universe. it just needs to exist here.

I think in the bily pack like- namjoon and the m/c's relationship is built on mutual respect, hoseok and the m/c's relationship is based on mutual understanding, and her and Yoongi's relationship is based on mutually assured destruction.

But mostly, summer just means Namjoon and Jin fucking on every horizontal surface available, and even some vertical ones when Namjoon is feeling particularly energetic. Filling the house with the distant sounds of slapping skin against skin, high-pitched moans, and deep growls.

It has Tae distracted from her world full of monsters and magic (and a heroine that looks like you and talks like you and just might have your eyes). Eyeing the ceiling in her little library room, a tell-tale trickle of dust interrupts her work from the heavy banging of the headboard above. Granted, it’s hard not to get distracted by it or dragged into it. The pack alpha and pack omega have reached new heights of audacity since their mating. They can hardly keep their hands off each other for a single hour.

You compare notes. They’ve fucked in the kitchen 5 times this week, the pack's old bedroom each time before that, and the hot tub so much that Yoongi had to drain it and replace the filter.

Namjoon has had a singular, all-consuming sort of focus on Jin since their mating. Both marks are red scars now, healed enough that the pack can touch them- something that you do often. It's all gentle strokes of hands over Namjoon’s throat when he’s lying prone, every inch of his body taught like a wire about to snap, grumbly growls slipping out every time you put your thumb to where Jin’s canine pressed. Or Yoongi in the shower with Jin, lazing about in the water. cheek resting against Jin’s dewy collar bones, nose pressing when Jin grants his husband the permission of “take what you need.”

It’s a pretty mark, smaller than yours by half a measure, because Jin’s plush lips had sort of gotten in the way. The space between Jin’s incisors and front tooth makes a lopsided little heart that the pack is a bit obsessed with and routinely teases Namjoon for to the tune of “Joonie, your heart is showing”. Namjoon's mating mark on Jin’s throat is a little less front-facing and a little more to the side, so pretty and just peeking beneath a wide collar. Less pink and less fuzzy at the edges, because Namjoon hadn’t had to bite deep to mark Jin, but Jin-

Jin had sort of mauled Namjoon- just a little. A deep mark, a complete claim. Unquestionable.  

You listen to them fucking, sort of endeared, sort of annoyed. Not that they wouldn’t drag you into it if you asked or dared to come too close. Or if you did something snarky, like bang on the wall to get them to quiet down. When you shift right, you can still feel the result of wandering too far into their orbit just the day before.

The hunger of a new mating mark knows no bounds, not for the pack alpha and pack omega, having one of their pups between the two of them, debauching and riling them up to the fullest extent, until there’s little more than a slick, soaked mess between your thighs is their idea of a perfect morning.

You might have had to beat them off of Yoongi with a newspaper when he complained of feeling sore. They’d raised their arms a little chagrined, looking a little younger and a bit more in love than usual. Communicating volumes with a single look- only to scamper off and immediately hassle Jungkook, who was only too happy to take Yoongi’s place.

Sometimes the noise gets to be a bit too much for you, and you go with Tae to the café in town. It’s a bit shitty, a bit old. The chairs aren’t deep enough to feel cozy, and the coffee is burnt.

It’s not the same 24-hour coffee shop that Yoongi and Jin used to work at; that one has suspiciously shuttered its doors sometime in the last few months. You have no doubt that Yoongi’s family is slowly closing out its fronts across this city- or maybe just in your corner of it. It’s wise to give Yoongi, you, and Hoseok a wide berth, and you can’t say you’re not happy with the distance.

It’s a nice place to sit with her and sip at your little drinks (its pastries are unfortunately sub-par). Even if there are things you’d change, the chairs for one, the dark walls another. But Tae looks pretty by the big window, the sunlight making her hair all red instead of just tawny. It becomes one of your favorite things- taking pictures of her and posting them to your old Instagram.

It’s a little sparse, since all of your pictures from your life before are deleted now. Lingering in your archive only when the pack asks to see pictures from your wedding or something else. You let them cycle through and don’t even consider seeing pictures of Geumjae because that’s not for you- not right now.

Now, your Instagram is littered with pictures of you and Tae playing dress up. Hobi and Yoongi at the beach this summer. Dots in the night sky from a late-night drive where you and Hobi drove to where the cliffs from up north meet the sea, and you had a perfect view of the moon and the Milky Way, and the lights on the horizon, a ship or an ocean liner off the coast right where the sky meets the sea. Distant but bright.

There you’d both reclined on the hood of the still-warm car. Whispering secrets between the two of you for old times’ sake as you watch the moon rise over the ocean, and watch the sea flow as if in slow motion. Your shoulder and his shoulder and only your shared sweatshirts between. Lulled to near sleep by the sound of Hoseok’s voice, roughly confessing.

“I think if we didn’t have the house, I’d want to live out here. Even though half these cottages look like they’re about to fall into the sea.”

Each picture on your Instagram might only get 7 likes, but it’s still nice to have that again. A sense of normalcy to have people to post to and post you. You take a picture of yourself, and the first thing on your mind isn't if you're worth it or if it will get you the bad kind of attention. There’s a sense of camaraderie to have Jin spamming your comments with a million hearts and Yoongi to comment, “wait, when did you take this?” To a picture of him open-mouthed, napping on the couch. It’s a bit of an archive.

Well, you don’t always get 7 likes; sometimes you get tons if you happen to post a picture of a certain blond-headed alpha. It’s hard to get used to. Sometimes you get…comments from Jimin’s fans. Most of them are relatively harmless.

'Oh my god he looks even better when they’re domestic together,' and 'pack goals,' or 'is this one his mate? She looks like an omega.'

'No it’s the other girl I think, and look at that mating mark. I think Jimin would tell us if he was mated.'

'Good that means I still have a chance.'

The ones that go farther from speculation, you just delete and let them wonder. Everyone is adjusting. Bit by bit. Week by week. It’s hard to realize where the empty spaces are in your life; the bits that don’t fit. You just have to wait until the right thing slips into place.

At the café, you play footsie with Tae under the table and watch her over the edge of your phone, skimming through TikTok or anything that holds your attention. Tae isn’t writing so much anymore- she’s just editing, which somehow requires more of her focus. You watch her crinkle her eyebrows and rub her lower lip, and reach to wipe her hands before she has the chance to get lipstick on her keyboard.

It’s something you see Yoongi do often, and it’s good to mirror him (he’s always sort of been teaching you how to love), but it’s hard for you to sit for too long before you get restless because now that you’ve started to work out regularly and move your body; It’s hard not to want to move all the time, to sort of need it.

You’re getting better, even if you don’t realize it.

~-~

Jin has been…well… ‘Threatening’ isn’t exactly the word for it, since the mating.

After the first few weeks of ‘no one but you guys can even look at Namjoon without me needing to bounce on his knot for a few hours,' the initial breeding frenzy has subsided. Jin is a touch calmer than the pack had ever seen him. Before he’d been stubborn, needing to handle every little thing for the pack, but now things are a bit looser, Jin's control slips in ways in never would have before.

These days, you guys talk about things a whole lot more. You’re not sure why, but maybe it feels like everything is truly over. Nothing is looming over your heads except for the rest of your lives. No murders or monsters or pasts waiting to bite, and no shoes waiting to drop.

Maybe it’s because there’s no hiding now; Jimin is in every other magazine, staring blandly out from behind blue bottles of perfume or modeling garish little vests (that Jungkook ends up wearing with nothing underneath). Jin has Namjoon's mark on his throat and Yoongi's ring on his finger.

He can feel their bond like a tangible thing in the corner of his mind. Namjoon's emotions are soft and often achey. Jin can't really feel them, not in the way that he can feel his own emotions. It's more like the sense of something that's hot or cold. Happy or distressed that comes ferried through a constant pressure and a pervasive feeling of steadiness. The mating bond is a tether, that keeps Jin from tipping over.

If getting mated felt like jumping from a high height, then Namjoon’s very being was what kept Jin from crashing into the uncertain future below. Every bit of Namjoon belongs to Jin.

Everything from his frosted tips to his gentle hands and rippling back muscles. The crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the way he laughs when one of the pups surprises them, or does something so cute that Jin can't help but feel the instinct to bite and settle. Everything about Namjoon is his. Will always be his. And will never stray far from him.

Coming up and settling into the bond feels like the most complete form of being, like the moment between a fireworks sparkle and its boom. The moment that the world holds its breath before sunrise.

Jin has never felt calmer.

Now that Jin understands what it means to be mated to someone, it makes the beginning of your relationship with Yoongi and the dependency you had on him (and continue to have sometimes) a lot more rational. And this bond is only half as strong as the one that you and Yoongi have.

The guilt is an unintended side effect of that.

Jin doesn’t hide it this time; he shares it. You stay up and talk about it just the two of you in the center of the nest. The little lacy tank top that he put you in earlier is distracting down to the last thread. It's plunging neckline tempts Jin's thoughts and his fingers.

Jin doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it; how much he loves you and how big the emotion feels in his chest. Some of it has to be from Namjoon. Everything still feels big and new, intense. He’s sort of getting used to Namjoon being everywhere. There's no such thing as personal space. No such thing as a separation between either of their decisions, emotions, or scents.

Namjoon's coffee scent now has a slight milky undertone, and Jin's likewise, has shifted from dollops of whipped cream to something slightly more savory and mature. It's something the pack can't get enough of (especially the alpha's) pressing their noses against throats, pushing each other out of the way because sharing is hard sometimes. cautiously stealing little nibbles until Namjoon's growl inevitably makes them whine and back down. He wakes up like that every morning.

Jin is realizing lately that these everyday habits are going to be the rest of his life, and it makes him feel like there's a lump in his throat. How good this is, how lucky he is to have a mate like Namjoon. The love and fierce protectiveness over pouring.

Thats how the mornings go- but the evenings always end up like this; Namjoon pressed hot and alpha along his spine, nosing into Jin's nape like he just can’t get enough of the other's scent. Hand possessively wound around Jin’s waist to cup his stomach while you linger and shimmy just a little closer, Hobi's knee between your legs.

Jin dips his fingers along your sternum, never going lower than your neckline. Touching just to touch. Fingers skimming over the silk dimple where your nipple sits, the half there imprint in the silk where your skin darkens.

Your pink collar sits on your clavicle, just as pretty as the day Jin bought it for you, although the bell is detached so that you can move around freely without waking the others. It’s a comforting weight around your throat, and although you aren’t in subspace or omega space and you haven’t had any sort of scene tonight, your eyelashes still flutter when Jin tugs. Fingers occasionally tangling with the metal loops whenever your attention sways.

The metal of Namjoon’s sits hot against the center of Jin’s back, and Hobi's puppy tag glints in the half light from the dimmed-down Christmas light above. And every other snore Namjoon’s breath becomes a growl. Hand twitching around the pack omega’s waist, hand splayed across his stomach under his sleep shirt.

But while the rest of the pack slumber on, you and Jin talk.

“When we first met, how long had it been since like you and Yoongi had-”

“About oh- I don’t know- maybe 8 weeks?” Your cheek dimples against your hand, and Jin pauses to curl a lock of your hair over one finger and then the next, examining it for split ends just in case he needs to schedule you another appointment. Things like that have slipped his attention recently, but at your words, Jin pauses his examination.

It’s been 9 weeks since the mating. Too long but not long at all; it still feels raw, even the skin around Jin's mating mark is still sensitive enough to ache. Mating marks are generally slow to heal.

“You’re kidding?” Jin picks himself up in the nest to look at you, and you smile sadly. Jin’s incredulity does not disturb the quiet; his hands stroke down your waist, from your ribs to where it tapers, the thick flush of your hips and down, only to trail back up again. “I don’t know how I never realized it was that soon.”

“Yeah, it was a bit of a mind fuck.” You tip your head back and let him touch his fill. You are in no position to deny him anything- not that you’d ever want to. Jin could drag you over his lap right now for a settling, and your only complaint might be that it would wake the others.

And Tae needs her beauty sleep.

She's laying on her side just behind Yoongi in a matching slip to your top. The silk mask over her eyes. Hair spilling close to Jimin's hand, like he'd fallen asleep wrapping it around his knuckles again and again. The repetitive action is soothing to Jimin’s senses. It’s sweet to see, to connect the still life of your pack to their routine. Jungkook’s loud snoring punctuates the quiet.

“I couldn’t even like, let him up to go to the bathroom sometimes.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

You snicker, and Hobi shuffles closer behind you. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not. He noses forward, nose hitting the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. “Pretty sure I gave his bladder permanent damage, but he also went through this stage where he wouldn’t let me walk on my own and wanted to carry me everywhere, so it was very tit for tat.”

You tip your head down, shy about the way that Jin is looking at you, and feel the cool press of Hobi's lips against your spine. The warmth of his breath and the press of his stomach against your back as he inhales. Jin’s dark hair lies over his forehead, watching the two of you with something hungry but unvoiced behind his expression.

“I was also like- really fucking weak at times so-”

Jin tugs at your collar. Finger trailing up to your chin. “None of that. No negative self-talk.”

Jin’s fingers trail lower, and you shimmy, not uncomfortable, but very aware of your own desires, very aware of how this is a serious conversation and so not the time but.

“Jinnie-” you whine.

Jin’s fingers press as he cups your ribcage, fingers teasing oh so gently. Thumbs rubbing circles. “What? You said Tit?” You laugh and press yourself into Jin’s front, your packmates around you snuffle, and Namjoon’s next breath is definitely a half-awake growl. You lower your tone when you pull back, grinning at Jin. His smile stays mostly the same, but then falters. His hands smooth up and back instead of to the front. His fingers splay across your scapula to your spine. Drumming there. pulling you away from Hobi, who lets you slide away.

Jin doesn't take you over his lap, he doesn't reach between your legs or do anything sexual. He shuffles so that you can lie on top of him, putting both his arms around you and pulling you snug. Until all of your weight is across him. A lying down hug. "there we go. that's better"

"Jinnie?" you try to pull back, but his arms keep you where he needs you. and his next breath is shakier that you expect, eventually his hold loostens, and you can pick yourself up to look at him again.

“Sorry. instincts." he shakes his hair out of his face, and when you glance back, you realize Hobi's moved in his sleep, chasing you. "But still, when I think about how I shoved you, how aggressive I was- I’m lucky you didn’t rip out my throat.”

You lean your chin on his pectoral, watching him work through it. “The validation of you saying that feels nice, even if it’s been years.”

Jin shakes his head, plush lips pressing together in displeasure at how you dismiss it. “Just one year, I shouldn’t have-”

“Jin, you’ve already apologized for it like a million times-”

“But still-”

“If you really want to apologize, you could-" Jin’s face dips, nipping at your collar right where he knows you're ticklish, and peals of laughter and giggles join the quiet as you squirm away. Hobi makes a noise in the back of his throat as you wiggle into him. Jin holds you where you are, but the nest shakes with the sound of your laughter.

Tae is the only one to wake up at the sound, sitting up with a fluff of silk and feathers and a crinkle of the duvet. Taking off her mask with a pout. Glossy eyepatch sliding off her cheek. Disapproval radiated along her glower.

The alpha huffs and leans over to hook her fingers into your collar. Giving you a little shake. You smile through it, and when you pull back, Hobi's half-open eyes are glaring at you in the darkness. “Sorry” you say. Shrinking.

Jin’s giggle has the nest shaking again. And his hand wraps around your waist again, this time more firmly. “I’ll settle her Tae.”

~-~

Jin has a fair amount of work to do now that Jimin is sort of a superstar.

They still haven't found an adequate solution to his agent and manager problem. And Jin is reluctant to let that kind of control slip to someone who isn’t pack. There are magazines littered around the house, contracts in big piles. Sample photos and headshots in Manila envelopes. Yoongi had Jimin's first advert framed and put in the stairwell so that the pack can pass by it every time they come upstairs. Jimin hasn’t been a cover model yet- but it's only a matter of time.

There are dozens of other photos hanging in the stairwell too; a picture of you all at the beach. One of you and Tae are all dressed up with more glitter than skin showing. A photo with a Noodle wearing one of Tae's silk scarves around his neck like a bowtie.

A picture of the pack, long long before you and without Hobi too. Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung look impossibly young. Probably from soon after they'd all moved in together. A baby photo of Jin in a pint-sized hanbok, one of Namjoon and a dozen other pups who all look vaguely like him in front of a big mid-century house. One of Hobi standing in front of a carousel.

One of Yoongi at the old coffee shop with Jin, looking so lanky that it’s hard to believe he was ever that small, and one of Hobi and him at the record store, sitting on stacks of old speakers, jeans cuffed, the phone that took the photo probably propped up against some boxes. Most of them are grainy and taken with old iPhone cameras but you can feel the fondness, the love, the joy, even through time.

But there’s one photo, halfway up the stairs, that you avoid looking at if you can help it. It's not a bad photo of you by any means. 6 months ago, you would have said it's the prettiest photo of you ever taken.

It's one of the first you’d ever taken at the house, shortly after the pack had moved in last summer. It's innocuous, maybe Tae took it or Jin- but in the photo, a sickly looking you is curled up with Yoongi on the porch. A plate full of watermelon rinds sits on the table in front of you all. Chewed and mostly green. Jungkook is equally asleep on the opposing sofa. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against your mate's throat, tired because your body just hadn’t had enough energy to keep going back then.

But how could your arms look so brittle? And was your hair really that thin? Did you always look so miserable?

The bags under your eyes are darker than bruises, and the way you're holding your body- you can feel the hurt all the way from here. You don’t know when your body stopped aching, when everything stopped hurting, only that you’re different now. Sometimes, when no one is looking, you pause on the staircase eye level with the photo and stare at the version of you that you no longer recognize. A time that you can’t really remember all that well.  

Yoongi notices, because Yoongi notices everything when it comes to you.

He comes upon you one morning, behind you as you pause. Tae is already upstairs getting ready, one or two packmates showering off the nighttime. You paused there in your fuzzy socks and a big shirt of Namjoon’s passing for pajamas.

The house is full of giggles and quiet. Noodle meows while Hobi feeds him. Tae says something to Jimin that makes Jin laugh upstairs. The sound of Jungkook softly singing under his breath. Namjoon clanging through the dishes from breakfast. His turn this morning. Your turn tomorrow.

You turn, registering that Yoongi’s coming up behind you, that you’ve been caught. “Oh, I was just-”

Your excuses die in your throat but you stay put as Yoongi ascends the steps to where you stand in front of the picture. It’s normal-sized, 4 by 6 inches of pure misery. You flush at being caught, although you’re not sure why you don’t want him to know you’re ruminating on it.  

“Ah, that one.” He says when he sees what photo you’re looking at. “I could be wrong, but I think that might be the first photo we have together.” He smiles at it. And you shift. Nervous.

“Oh, It is? I just-” you look back at it, and Yoongi sets his hand on your waist, looking too.   “Does it bother you? I can take it down, I know it’s not from like- a good time but-” Yoongi looks at it, lips quirking. And doesn’t say what he maybe could have. That it wasn’t a good time in your lives, but Yoongi can’t let go of the only time he got you all to himself. That it reminds him of the intention behind love.

Mating marks can only do so much, even beta ones.

It’s a reminder that you two can love each other, but it’s always something you’ll both have to work at. You and Yoongi will never have a blow-up, you’ll never assume you know what’s best for each other, or love each other without hope behind it. Maybe that’s why he’s fond.

Maybe.

“It doesn’t bother me.” You say, and you decide that it’s the truth. “I just didn’t realize how I looked back then.”

Yoongi just taps his fingers on the banister of the stairs. Watching you and the curve to your cheeks and chin, the curve to your whole body. So different from where you started. There’s nothing sexual to Yoongi’s comparison; there's no worth that he ascribes to the version of you in that photo that he doesn't give you now. Only the trickle of a memory and the quickening of his heartbeat.

He steps closer to you. “Yeah. It was pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs. Cupping your elbow with his hand. A small request for you to continue up the steps. After a moment, you do. Ascending into the pack’s bedroom where the sound and scent of Jimin and Jin are closer and Tae's giggle sounds even sweeter. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault for being so sick.”

“How long are you going to say that?”

On the landing, he shrugs, hands in his pockets. Takes one of them out and tugs on your sleeve. It’s an oddly childish action for him, and you realize with a pang that he must have picked it up from you. It’s strange how you leave your mark on people, how you take pieces of them and they take pieces of you. Yoongi smiles at you and says, “Until you believe it. Probably forever if you need me to say it.”

The distress is suddenly overwhelming, and unlike before, you don’t hide it. “Yoongi, I was doing that to myself-”

“And you made yourself get better too-”

You snort, “I definitely did not. You and Jungkook like- force fed me for a whole 3 months.”

His head tilts to the side. “You know I don’t like it when you say force feeding.”

“I- sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just never again.” Yoongi says it solemnly, and it sounds like a promise as you nod. Yoongi takes your hand in his, fitting his fingers in between yours until they tap at your knuckles. Guiding you gently to the bathroom. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ll never get that bad again.” Yoongi stares at you, waiting for you to say it back.

“I won’t.”

Yoongi sticks out his pinky. And the rest is history.

(The two of you leave the picture there and let it be. It’s not the last photo that the hallway will get- and that’s a marvel, isn’t it? That you have your whole lives to look forward to. That your pups' first day of school pictures and graduation photos will one day be hung here (like your and Tae's wedding photos and Jimin’s 3 Vogue covers, like Tae's Pulitzer Prize certificate for her 5th book, and an article about your café in the paper,

but I’m getting very, very ahead of myself here.)

~-~

Jimin hasn’t been on the cover of Vogue yet, but someday soon he will. His career is moving at lightspeed. It’s been maybe 4 weeks since the whole ‘Mr. Park’ thing. You think that maybe it will never slow down but that that might be a good thing for Jimin as you eat late summer watermelon with the pack on the porch. Waiting for Jimin to come home from an early morning photoshoot.

When he does it's with a smile, taking the stairs two at a time and doing a twirl to show off his new outfit- that he definitely didn't leave the house in to all of you sitting there.

Namjoon smiles from the doorway at Jin coming up the stairs, in their own little world as they drag Jungkook upstairs for god only knows what (probably a bit of nasty filthy sex, not that the other omega is at all complaining)

Jimin smells like vanilla and expensive shit as he ducks low for a kiss and then flops right there in all his Gucci glory. Hobi leans over and puts his finger through the artfully distressed holes in his sweater. “The director liked me so much they let me walk home with this shit-”

“Oh, I’m totally stealing this,” You grill him. You want to know everything, and none of it is a secret. You steal his fancy sunglasses and trade them back and forth with Tae, slung across Jimin’s lap like some sort of willowy daydream straight out of Sappho’s poems. And Jimin gets progressively more flustered the more she trails her nose up the column of his throat. Increasingly more distracted as he tells you about the mansion on the cape and the castle by the sea and the liquid organza suit coat they put him in.

"You should be the model, not me," Jimin tells her, but Tae just shrugs, before leaning forward to grab a perfect chunk of watermelon. Pressing the pink square between her teeth with a juicy squish that you feel in your tummy for some reason. When you look at Hobi, he's grinning at you knowingly. You flush and look away, feeling found out for some reason.

"I like writing more than I like being pretty, and this way I get to have the designer stuff without any of the work."

Jimin trails his nose along the crown of her head. "One of the many benefits of being my girl, I guess." Jimin teases, fingers slipping lower on her waist.

"Many benefits huh? Tell me more. What else do I get from this arrangement?" Jimin's fingers continue to trail lower, cupping between her legs, and you lean up, slap him a little.

"We are on the porch Jimin, anyone could see."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You are literally kneading Tae's ass like a dough ball."

"Well come over here and I'll knead yours too. You can consider it practice for when we make salt bread again."

"You're impossible."

"Impossibly attracted to both my girlfriends is what I am."

Hobi's eyes naturally travel to your back end, blatantly poised in his direction as you lean over the coffee table.

You jump. Flushing terribly, looking over your shoulder at Hobi, who looks at his phone like he hasn’t done anything at all. He's scrolling through something, and when you lean back into him with a huff, you realize it's a sample of the photoshoot. Jin must have sent him the pictures.

Hobi has sort of been helping Jin wade through some of the paperwork for Jimin's job. It was a mountain of work for Jin alone. And asking Hobi to get a second look at some things was second nature.

“It’s not a big deal, they literally just ask me to touch my face and then take a picture.”

Hobi scrolls through, “Easy money. These are like- so fucking good.”

“Easiest money of my fucking life, I fell asleep during makeup today and they freaking cooed at me-”

"You never fall asleep when I do your makeup."

Jimin leans forward to nip at her jaw. "That's because there's an incentive to stay awake." Tae hadn't gotten flustered, had just looped her arms around Jimin’s neck and whispered something into his ear that made him go bright red.

Jimin hasn’t had to go anywhere international for his job yet- but he did go to Los Angeles last week. A city that Jimin described as too hot and too sprawling. That you’d have hated all the traffic and Ubers. You’re surprised Jin didn’t go with him.

You know why he didn’t go- because he's worried about you and your application to culinary school. You have this near vibrating anxiety while you wait and wait and wait to hear back. But there's been nothing.

Nothing so far. Sometimes you wonder if it's even worth all this stress and effort. You'd be happy here just living like this for your whole life. Money is not an issue. You have enough money where you could all honestly do that without feeling the consequences for several decades, if not the rest of your lives, if you invested it properly, but…

Managing Jimin has been amazing for Jin's mental health. And Jimin likes it too. And maybe you want something like that- a purpose. Yoongi has the house, Tae has her book, Jin has Jimin but you. What do you have besides this?

It feels good to have something to look forward to, something to do beyond just twiddle your thumbs, love them, and wait for your life to pass.

Even if you’re scared.

~-~

Late that night you take one of your late night drives with just Hobi. You go to your spot and get greasy drive in food and enough french fries to put an elephant into a food coma. In the car with just Hobi, you tell him.

"I think I want to open my own cafe." He raises his eyebrows at you. Lips fumbling with a straw between his teeth, sucking down his soda. The car idles warm and the night outside hovers quietly. You haven't even told Yoongi this yet.

He puts his cup in the cup holder. "Before school or after?"

"After. If I even get in-"

He scoffs, rolls his eyes a little, you hit his shoulder. he goes for your armpit, and you jerk, ticklish. "Of course you're going to get in-"

You shimmy in your seat. Wound up. "Okay but anyways- maybe it could be a cafe and a bakery or maybe just a bakery. Or both- or-" you turn to him, the paper crinkle of paper between the two of you tossing crumbs on the floor that he doesn't comment on one bit.

"Alright. tell me about it." You start to talk, to outline it, starting slowly at first and then faster. Your words rapid fire.

Hobi turns down the music and listens.

~-~

You still haven’t heard back from culinary school. Still haven’t found out if you’ll get to attend this fall. You checked a few internet forums, and you know the first round of acceptances has already gone out. It’s easy to second-guess yourself, easy to assume that you won’t get in during the second round, at least not this year.

It’s a simple morning when it happens.

The curtains on the porch wave and waft in a breeze that comes all the way from the sea. Tae picks out your mug for you as you move slowly, bumping into anything that moves too quickly. Namjoon catches you before you crash into one of the chairs at the island, ducking down to kiss your forehead with a soft smile before moving you in Tae's direction, your de facto minder for the morning.

The weather is shifting into something colder, and maybe you cling to the nest a little bit more on these mornings when the threat of fall tickles your ankles.

Tae tugs you this way and that, tickling you under your arms so you squirm against her front while Yoongi pours your coffee, glances over his shoulder at you once and then again. Tightening your robe around your waist when you shiver. Jimin is away this weekend at a shoot in the city (for an underwear shoot of all things), and it has everyone a bit on edge. Just one night. He should be home by dinner. It's easy to tell themselves that, but-

Tae is always a little extra clinging and domineering when he's gone.

You’re ready to recline with her wherever she might put you and go back to sleep to pacify those instincts. You love cuddling with Tae. Love it so much you think you can’t bear it sometimes when she wiggles away in the early morning to go edit (the nerve). Like she did this morning, and you woke up pouty and a little grumpy over it. Eager to accuse her of neglecting you (and get some kisses afterwards).

You’d all but shuffled into her library room, settled on her lap, leg on either side of her waist in the chair, slightly bigger than the old one. The others got it for her when she realized how much she didn’t mind you curled against her front last winter, but you’d wound your arms around her shoulders and promptly gone back to sleep for a few minutes. Before Hoseok’s humming in the kitchen and the smell of coffee and pancake batter had tempted the two of you out of your little bubble.

Now, the cup of coffee that's on the table is doomed to go cold. Noodle yowls, and you tuck your face into Tae's tummy, putting the hem of her shirt over your eyes and closing them. She laughs and says something that's not meant for you to reply to. Your thoughts swirl with ebby patterns of comfort, too warm to think straight, finally finally horizontal on the couch.

Namjoon hums, and you feel a hand crest your knee, shifting you so that your hips are in line with your spine. Namjoon is so-

You press up into his hand like a cat, fingers digging into the pressure points on the back of your neck, not scruffing you, but close.

Happy shivers go up and down your back as Namjoon rubs, and you think you might chirp a little, or purr, or both. His answering hum is deep and sweet as he runs his fingers over your shoulders, squeezing just until the pressure releases. He laughs when you make another noise after he stops. His sleep-roughened voice is all grumbly as he says, “Still tired? Maybe we should take you back upstairs.”

Hoseok disappears from the room, his humming goes as does his caramel scent in the air, your fingers flex where they're tangled in Tae's PJs, needy. You curl up into her, all but bathing in the dewy smell of her skin, the conditioner on her hair, her rosy scent, oh so comforting. You’re used to falling asleep to the sound of the pack moving and talking all around you. You find comfort in the sound of their overlapping voices, going in and out of consciousness.

The next time you're lucid, Namjoon’s hand has crept a little higher on your leg, and Tae's warning growl lets you know there is at least some conflict going on. Her arm tightens around your waist. Her palm cupping the back of your head possessively. “Go get your own omega, this one’s mine.”

“You so sure about that?”

But whatever playful argument is going on, it’s none of your business if Tae and Namjoon feel the need to settle their hierarchy a little bit this morning. You doze, turning your face into Tae's skin and nosing against her navel.

You sleep, listening to the sound of them all. The sound of arms wrapped around bodies, the wet sound of smacking kisses, and the click of the range as Yoongi starts making breakfast. The quiet sound of the pack omega asking Namjoon to bring a heavy basket of laundry upstairs before Jungkook does. The pack alpha's happy little fluff of scent into the air as he does it. Always happy to do what Jinnie asks.

But the quiet can only last so long.

Jungkook and Hobi tear into the house, bare feet working against the floor as they try to overtake each other. They get caught in the doorway, both trying to pass through at the same time, getting tangled in the process. Jungkook wraps his arms around Hobi's waist, but the alpha, slighter but stronger, holds his ground. “Guys, you’re letting out all the cold air,” Jin reprimands, but it falls on deaf ears.

"It's here! It's here!" Tae jostles you. Knees jumping with her jerk of surprise.

Jungkook falls to the floor at the same moment that Hoseok valiantly grabs an envelope from his hands, giggling. And you-

You're still totally asleep on Tae's lap. Thoughts syrupy slow. Seokjin and Yoongi look up from the barely prepared breakfast. Incredulous until they see what Hoseok has valiantly held over his head. Yoongi makes an aborted noise, cutting the heat, although the butter sizzles on. Wiping his hands and coming over.

“Finally!” Tae chirps.

“Really?” Namjoon shouts from upstairs.

"Yes, Joonie, really!" Namjoon rushes down the stairs, almost tripping. Falling onto his ass with a loud thud thud thud. “Namjoon, slow down. You’re not coordinated enough for that,” Jin scolds, spatula held in threat.

“Guys don’t open it-”

“We’re not!’’

jungkook laughs, hops a few times and tries to bat at Hobi's head. “Wake her up-"

Tae's hand tightens around your back, curling over the nape of your neck protectively. “Don’t you dare-”

Namjoon rubs his ass, “baby girl, she’d want to be woken up for this-.”

Namjoon’s tone as pack alpha is not one that the others will obey today. Tae all but pouts at him. “Give her a few moments- she was up late last night.”

Yoongi snorts, “and whose fault is that?”

“Mine.” Namjoon says instantly.

Tae grits her perfect teeth, “no it was totally mine.”

Jin crosses his arms and waits until Namjoon is taking a sip of his coffee before he asks. “Are you both in rut or something?”

Jin thinks that there’s something satisfying in seeing the alpha snort coffee through his nose, to feel the jump of surprise down their bond. Even though Jin knows they’re not. Alphas just get like this sometimes. Especially heading into the wintertime.

You lift your head, a little grumpy at being woken so abruptly. One closed fist rubs at your eyes, cheeks faintly flushed, scent sweet and chirping. You peer up at them, surprised to find them looking down at you. Blinking at them slowly. Sniffling a little.

Everyone goes quiet all at once, then they break, "Oh my god, we're evil-" "The worst." Yoongi sets a hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair softly. "Go back to sleep, little lovely."

Jungkook picks you up, a normal occurrence. You make an affronted noodle-like noise as he places you on your feet, swaying a little. holding you up partially.

“Kookie,” you whine.

“It’s here! It’s here!” Hoseok holds a little white envelope and shoves it under your nose. You’re suddenly wide awake, suddenly unable to concentrate on anything else, standing in the living room in your pj’s, Tae holds around your knees, still standing between her legs, everyone else between the ottoman and the couch crowding your space. “Go on pup.” "Please, the anticipation is killing us."

You sway.

“Open it open it open it!” Jungkook bounces on his heels, the baggy shirt he wears crinkling with an audible sound. Your hands are shaking so badly as you rip it open. Your gaze flickers up to Namjoon's, then Yoongi's. Leaving it folded. But there's a lot of paper, and maybe they just make their rejection letters really, really long.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re not going to be sick,” Hoseok pecks the back of your neck, hand comfortably resting on your hip. Everyone has Their heads bend over the paper as you scan the document. You lift your eyes, and Yoongi is the first person you make eye contact with. He’s smiling ear to ear before you even tell them.

Your voice is small and quiet and more than a little scared, hands trembling.

“I got in.”

The cheers erupt immediately, and the small little voice in your head that wonders why you’re worth celebrating at all goes quiet as you watch them. Hoseok pumps his hand, Jungkook all but leaps into the air with a great big whoop.

Namjoon spins you, lifting you clear off your feet, spinning and spinning and spinning, tucking his face into your throat. You’re fully awake and giggling when he sets you down.

Yoongi dabs at his eyes, turning away for a second before he hugs you. Setting almost his whole weight across your shoulder. You feel his relieved breath against your front, and through your mating bond, he ducks in to press a quick kiss to your grinning mouth. It tastes like relief. Maybe he’d never told any of you how worried he was- not about you not getting in- but about what might have happened to your self-esteem if you hadn’t. But you know, you know how he must have worried, what he must have felt.

Yoongi cups his cheeks in both your hands, your flush goes unnoticed or unteased at. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You're doing your best not to be someone your family has to worry over these days. It's hard. But you really are giving it your all. You nod at his words, unable to communicate to him what that means to you.

“Of course, she got in," Jin sounds almost offended at the very suggestion of Yoongi's disbelief. "As expected of my pup.”

But there’s still his hand on your chin, tilting your face up to his so that Jin can wipe at your tears, but just as quickly as you’re crying in happiness, your anxiety spikes. Holding the pieces of paper, not only your acceptance letter, but the heavy set of other instructions about tuition, uniform, and necessary first-semester materials.

“I’ve never been to college before and I'm so old, what if everyone is younger than me?” But the pack knit close around you. Nipping that in the bud before even a seed of doubt can begin to grow.

Jimin huffs, blinking from a small screen in Jungkook’s palm. A barely visible, very bright hotel room around him. His voice sounds grainy through the phone. “It will be alright. You’ve got us. You’ll have me as soon as I’m home.” 

“Hurry Minnie.” Hobi huffs, “yeah, Tae and Namjoon are worried about you.”   “I am not!” Namjoon cries.

Tae clicks her tongue. “Oh you so are-” he shoves her lightly. It’s more of a tickle.

“Hey! I am a lady!” Her indignation only gets her so far as Namjoon all but covers her body with his. you take the phone from here, and Jimin promises a celebration tonight. Probably drinking and food and maybe a very very nicely wrapped congratulation present that the pack have shoved into the back of the coat closet. something they put together for you just incase you.

Jin nods, making eye contact with you, hand coming up to cup your cheek and rub away your happy tears. “We can help with everything.”

Jimin chimes in, “Yeah, Joonie already said he’d help you study.”

But you just pout at that, “it’s not medical school.”

Is it that the pack alpha's shoulders are puffed up, or is it just your imagination? He leans away from Tae, taming her flyway, looking flustered. “Still. It’s your next chapter. You’re going to do well; I just know it.”

“Your faith in me is either misguided or foolish.”

“That’s a good line.” Tae says, and you turn to her, grinning.

Hobi sets his hands on your shoulders, turning you to look at him. “You’ve been spending too much time editing, and for the record, our faith in you is just the right amount.”

“Can you blame me? It’s like! Really hard to put down!” You’re scared, but bickering and bantering help. And you think you might be learning what the good kind of fear is and how to separate it from the bad kind. Even if both types of fear feel the same. They’re different. Aren’t they?

The pack has faith that you can do this, and you’ve never had a reason to doubt them before. “I can’t believe it- I can’t believe I’m actually going to go to school.” You look up at Hobi, like something just occurred to you, “Holy shit, what if I’m dumb?”

 “You are not dumb.”

Tae gives you a loving swat to your behind. “Hey! No negative self-talk!”

“I’m so scared, I’m not even excited- all I am is afraid.” Yoongi kisses you slowly and gently, taking his hand in yours. Jin and Namjoon are already looking over your book list and thinking about back-to-school shopping and getting you a pair of school-appropriate non-slip shoes. Jungkook and Taehyung are a mess on the couch. Jungkook continues whatever sort of push-and-shove game he started with Hoseok, but with Tae this time. Leaving you standing with just Yoongi and Hobi on either side of you.

Hoseok understands better than anyone the need to preempt enjoyment with disappointment as he teases you, "too bad, you're gonna get like- really good at chopping onions."

You pout up at him, "and baking cakes."

"You're already good at baking cakes."

“I know. I'm still scared.” Yoongi and Hoseok look at you, and you look back up at them. “That means I’m going to have to be brave, doesn’t it?”

Yoongi slides his hand from cupping your chin to your cheek, to your jaw, stroking over your mating mark once, twice, and then a third time.

“Yes. You’re going to have to be very, very brave.”

~-~

Tae sits in her library room, not looking at her computer but out the window to the hydrangea bush outside. The pink, blue, and lavender blooms are going crusty and bleached at the edges from the late summer sunlight, the last of them that Hobi has yet to snip away. Tae doesn't look at her computer, because she knows what she'll find.

In between waiting for you to hear back from culinary school, Tae has also been waiting for her own news. There is an email in her inbox, at the top of it, littered among a dozen other rejection letters, is a very, very different sort of email.

We’re very interested in ‘Girls and Other Dangerous Things,’ and we're very pleased to have found you and this project in its infancy. Our publishing company is willing to explore your options with you. We would love to meet at your earliest convenience to discuss a plan to take this from page to print.

You would think that Google would help her predicament, but a quick search of the company has yielded nothing but anxiety. New York Times bestseller lists from a decade ago and not much recent. Tae leans her elbows on her desk, the edge where you've worn away the wood slightly from leaning back against it. The mark of you slinging yourself across her lap to sit on her chair with her while she writes.

She hasn't told anyone yet; she got the email just this morning, but it's already 11am. She's sequestered herself here just because she knew the second she walked out into the kitchen that everyone, Jimin, Yoongi, you, Jin, would be able to tell that something was wrong.

Or that something’s gone very, very right for once. Tae's not sure which it is.

You have sort of a 6 sense when Tae's unhappy or scared or dysphoric at all and like normal you sort of just appear right in the nick of time, right before Tae risks being on the verge of a real panic attack. Rocking back and forth in her chair as she re-reads the email again and again and again.

You open the door to her library room without a second thought, although everyone else in the pack is firmly banned from interrupting Tae for all but the most necessary emergency (Jungkook feeling the lack of cuddles and wanting attention excluded from this list) you are not subjected to the same set of rules.

You let Noodle in too, tail raised high, cocking a hip against the doorway, clad in one of Yoongi's flannels and little else. Letting in the sound of the others' bickering and the smell of frying dough. Looking absurdly good in a way that makes Tae's pulse sort of hammer beneath her skin. She turns at the sound, jerky, chin resting on her hand, shoulders up to her ears.

“Hey,” you say in the doorway, smiling at her, your front covered in powdered sugar like snow. But ‘hey’ is never really just ‘hey’ when it comes to you.

"Hey," she says back, scent sour. She watches the moment that you scent it on the air, and a minute or two later, with the door closed and locked, you're slung across her lap in your same position as always. Listening to her rapid-fire words as she reads off the email, talks you through all the information about it. Her insecurities, everything she's worried about nothing kept from you. Eyes flicking from sentence to sentence.

“I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but they published that one series that I really liked just before I came out-”

"The one with the gay alpha hockey players?"

 "Yes, that one!" You wind your hands around Tae's back until your whole body is pressed against hers. You're a warm, comforting weight that makes Tae's whole body feel complete. Not a single ache or pain that she can pay attention to at all. Tae's heart gives a very painful but very lovely squeeze.

You pull back from her front, reaching up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and Tae feels so in love with you in that moment that she can't bear it. “Well, if you're asking me, I think your hopes should be sky high.”

“It’s not that good.”

Your knees squeeze at her hips in reprimand. You pull back and peer up at her. Tae tries not to meet your eyes but fails miserably. It's hard to be upset with you occupying all of her attention, but somehow she manages. “Tae, I’ve read it, and it’s amazing. You know it’s mean if you argue with me. I can’t believe I’m gonna have to wait like- a whole year to read the second one.”

Her hands loop around your waist. And her nose bumps against yours. “So I’m a meanie huh?”

“The meanest, you won’t even like- let me read the epilogue.”

“Because the epilogue is sad. And for the record, I’m not going to make you wait a whole year, you know I’m just waiting until I know if I should pursue it to start on the second one…” Tae pauses and realizes her words. Realizing that she has just heard back. “I sent them stuff like 4 months ago- and I only sent them the first 10 chapters and-”

Kissing her is an efficient way of shutting up the part of her that is endlessly insecure. Tae's insecurities have never bothered you ever, but you're vibrating with excitement here. Tae knows just by looking at you that you're not going to be able to contain yourself in telling the rest of the pack.

You turn around in Tae's seat and reach for her laptop. "Pup- what are you doing? Pup- no-"

You type quickly, sending an eager email back quicker than she can think to grab your hands and truly stop you. The two of you wait with bated breath, but the admin or secretary- whoever is reaching out on behalf of a Mr. Bang gets back to Tae with lightning speed, offering 6 available times over the next week at their Boston office, with further concessions if none of them fit Tae's schedule.

“Do you want me to go with you to your meeting?”

Tae's head tips down; she’s worried about hurting your feelings. “Is it weird that I kind of wanna do it alone?”

You nuzzle into her hairline, and Tae's breath comes easier. “No. Not at all.”

~-~

"Are you sure?" Jungkook asks, hanging out the window of Jin's car to look at Tae standing on the street corner.

Jin’s driving, the hazards on his car flashing every other rapid heartbeat. Out front of the building to drop her off for the meeting of a lifetime. Jin and Jungkook took her because they were the least likely to set off her already fried senses (Having the alpha's around might make Tae feel too instinctual, and she already feels like a dog pressed into a corner) and they're less likely to feed off of her anxiety and make it their own (like you and Jiminie).

Someone behind them honks loudly, but Jin just adjusts the mirror and quietly commits their license plate to memory.

Some habits die hard.

“I could wait in the lobby.” Jungkook nibbles at his lower lip. Clearly worried. Tae shuffles in her heels on the sidewalk, pulse hammering as she looks up. She has clear instructions on how to access the 58th floor of this building and get to the publishing house. Jimin is pacing the floors back home. Tae knows this, and yet her soulmate had let her come on her own. Tae's almost proud as her hands tighten on the handle of her briefcase.

“No Koo, I’ll be alright.”

"Love you! You've got this!" Jin levels a look at Tae over his sunglasses, "kill 'em, sweetheart." The car pulls away, and Tae is left standing there alone.

Some first steps are all yours.

Well, mostly all hers. She has no idea that You're down the block with Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi. Hiding out in a very, very fast and very, very expensive rental car with tinted windows and a sound system that could make Beethoven shudder.

You couldn't risk her recognizing your and Hobi's car, too red not to stick out. But you also couldn't let her do this completely alone- or at least an hour away from some possibly needed support.

You lean over the center console with binoculars, Yoongi in the driver's seat and Jimin in the passenger's side, swatting at your arm to see.

"Not a word of this to Tae," he'd made you promise. You'd mimed zipping up your mouth and thrown away the key, which Hobi had mocked, caught, and pretended to swallow. He's in the backseat with you, just along for the ride and the playlist that haunts you now. The base is thumping louder than usual because none of you are worried about blowing the speakers.

When you don't have the binoculars, you can hardly see Tae. Hardly more than a glimmer of pink on the sidewalk. Pink blazer, pink pants, pink shoes with red bottoms. Her brand new and very expensive Prada briefcase on one arm that you and Jimin might have splurged on for the occasion, hanging limply by her side.

You do love spoiling your girl.

You watch Tae through binoculars as she looks up at the big building, and then heads inside. "Hang on, I just want to make sure she's-" Jimin snatches the binoculars from you.

"She looks like she's going to throw up." He's already reaching for the door handle, but your mate has the good sense to hit the lock before he can get out. "Open the door, Yoongi,"

"Jimin, we agreed-" He tries to roll down the window, no doubt intending on climbing out of it, but finds his method of ingress also locked. Stalwart.

"Did you put the child lock on me?"

You snort, half-fighting with him to get the binoculars for a second. "You want a booster seat too?"

"Jimin, just think for a moment, if she sees you, she'll-" whatever Yoongi might have said gets interrupted by a sharp rap on your window. He rolls it down to reveal a very, very cross-looking Namjoon. A badge on his lapel that reads 'Dr.Kim' flashes in the midday sun. Arms folded, tapping his foot against the cobblestone. It’s so strange to see him in his doctor's coat and not his holey pajamas.

“Joonie!” Yoongi’s ear-to-ear grin does little to impress him.

The pack alpha’s glare does not decrease in intensity. Dragon eyes are narrowing at Jimin and Yoongi in the front seat. Hobi cowers, hiding behind the tinted window and patent leather of the driver's side. You too- shrink into the shadows, hoping to be undiscovered. “What are you doing here? I thought we talked about this.”

“Just hanging out." "I could ask you the same thing.”

“The hospital’s around the corner. I’m getting coffee.”

You reach around the console again. “Oh can you get me some? And a pastry!” Namjoon’s stare has your excitement dimming. Crouched behind Yoongi’s seat, Hobi stifles his laughter by biting on his knuckle. You shrink into the shadows in the backseat.

“Don’t think I don’t see you too pup.”

“Shit,” Hobi curses, leaning around the seat. “Sorry Joon.”

“We just had a discussion about boundaries guys.”

“I know but-”

A blue mini-coop pulls up beside you, and Jimin bypasses Namjoon and Yoongi’s stare down to peer at Jin in the front of his car. “How was she- did she seem nervous; did she have her phone on- did she-”

Jin's word cut off Jimin's anxiety at the root. “Everything went perfectly. Like I said it would.”

Jungkook gets out of the car, pecks a delirious-looking Namjoon on the cheek before sliding into the backseat with you and Hobi, “scoot over,”

“Why did nobody tell me you were doing a stakeout?”

“It’s not like we planned this,” Jin says. "we just all had the same idea."

Your car goes silent. And Namjoon leans against the window. “Okay well, I didn’t make the car reservation until Tae set the date.”

“Where did you even keep this thing?”

“At the flower shop.”

“Guys-”

Jin beeps his car, leveling Namjoon with a look over his sunglasses, cutting off the pack alpha’s reprimand. “Namjoon, just get in the god damn car before she spots us.”

By the time you look back at the front of the building, Tae has already disappeared inside.

Later at home, you unbutton her blazer for her, going button by button as you listen to her vent. You’re very convincing in your disguise, dressed in matching pj’s with Jimin. You'd mutually agreed not to tell her about your presence, even Namjoon.

It's just a white lie, and hardly the most damaging one you've ever agreed upon.

(The pack alpha sends you glares every few minutes when you meet his eyes, and you know everyone has a punishment in their future).

The pack is a flurry of movement around Tae, reclining on the couch. Jimin helps her take off her shoes, red bottoms glimmering as she talks. Squeezing her arches soothingly as her anxiety reaches a fever pitch.

Her diamond earrings are carefully unbuttoned by Yoongi. Makeup wipes are dished out by Jungkook, handed off to Jin who takes off her makeup gently, given the hour. Tae doesn't have to lift a finger while she gives her retelling of the day, the intimidating meeting with the kind head editor and lead acquisitions manager- whatever that is.

You don't have to lift a finger either, her own personal stress ball or weighted blanket. Too necessary to Tae's comfort, arms wrapped around her waist. Cheek squished against her pink shirt, linen and pretty. You'll have to remember to add it to the nest later.

“-And they want me to go through the whole thing in like a month, and I don’t know how that timeline makes sense.” Her lower lip wobbles, tears threatening at her lash line. “I could work for like 24 hours a day and still I wouldn’t be able to change everything they want me to change and that’s not even to mention the second half.”

"Did you ask for more time?"

She nods, "They wouldn't give it to me."

Jimin stands from her side. “Tell me their names.”

You tug at his sleeve, “Jiminie, save the murder for later.”

Yoongi’s shoulders fall, stressed, “Jesus Christ guys-”

You roll your eyes, “I said later, not never.”

"You signed the contract?" Jin asks, not distracted by you two, instead combing out the tangles in her curls delicately while guiding a glass of lemon water to her lips.

"No! Worse!" Tae bends to reach for her bag and upends the whole thing, hair wry out of her clips. An inch-thick packet of papers falls out along with a MAC lipstick, a YSL one, and a hairbrush. As well as two different wallets- Hers and Jimin’s. "They told me to sign it and hand it in with the final draft."

Her lower lip wobbles, and you've never smelled her scent more peppery (well, maybe the night she came out, but-). Tae sniffles. "I'm not sure it matters. They want so much from me and I know I can’t give them what they want." Tae hates this, to get here all this way and then fail at the final step.

Jin snatches it from the floor and steals the glasses off of Namjoon's head, scanning them quickly. The pack waits with bated breath, but Jin has hardly looked at it for more than a minute before he flips to the last page, scoffs, and promptly throws it into the nearby chair. Several pages Fling loose. "Tell them you won't sign it till the deadline."

"Jinnie-"

Jin folds his arms across his chest. "This isn't good enough. I can get you double."

“Jinnie-”

Jin leans forward to cup Tae's jaw in his hand, kissing her nose and then her mouth. “Don’t doubt me.”

Yoongi smiles. "You're learning a lot from this whole model thing."

Jimin flushes, starts to say something, but Jin just raises an eyebrow at him, "You should see the deal I got you for your next makeup campaign. My pups are worth a premium."

"Yeah, Minnie's expensive," Jungkook teases. 

Jin puts his hand on Tae's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I already professionally manage one of my pups, What’s one more?"

Tae looks like she's about to be sick. Realizing dreams goes a whole lot differently than you think it will. This feels dreadful. Tae wishes she'd never sent anyone anything. "Jinnie-"

You try instead. cupping her cheek and turning her face to look at you. Leaning your chin on her shoulder, peering up at her in a way you know is a little seductive and distracting. But given the circumstances, it can hardly hurt. "Tae, you're an amazing writer. You can do this; I know you can."

She shakes her head out of your hand. "No one can edit 300,000 words in a month, that’s like- almost physically impossible for one person."

Hoseok snorts, standing up from the couch. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got 7 people who love you and know you really fucking well then. Otherwise, you'd be shit out of luck.”

Tae blinks up at him, and Hobi pats your knee on the way past you, your eyelashes flutter, and you resettle your arms around Tae's waist. Threading your fingers through the buttons of her button-down to pet at her stomach.

Tae's tone is a little incredulous. “I can’t teach you how to edit, not like me. You don't know me this way.”

There's a moment of quiet where Hobi looks at her, and the pack take it in.

“Then let us. let us know you this way. You could try and we might not get it right at first. Think of it as a head start. Tae, you know what you like and what you want, just show us."

Tae thinks of that day so long ago, right after she came out. she remembers watching you and Hobi at the beach together. Getting funnel cake and calling Hobi out on his fondness for you that he didn't want to address. It feels good in a hurtful way, what he's saying isn't wrong. Tae just wasn't ready for it. Maybe like when Yoongi calls you out on your self-deprecation or when Jin scolds Namjoon for being too esoteric. Hobi stares, and Tae listens.

After a moment he continues. "What other time are you going to be able to show 7 different people and get their take on things while you can still change it?”

~-~

Love makes up for a whole lot. Skill and otherwise. Tae thinks as she watches the 7 of you dig into her story.

She's kept it closer to her chest than her fucking implants over the past year or so, and watching you all read it feels intimate in a way that's sort of awful, sort of amazing. Maybe being dissected would feel less vulnerable.

She should have started this sooner,. Should have let the pack read months ago. It’s a pretty intimate look at her soul, her wants and desires, her dreams. The way that she thinks and her own internal monologue and this one too closely intertwined to differentiate the two. The story is half a diary and half a promise. Somewhere between a testimonial and a daydream.

None of you are readers, but that doesn’t matter.

It starts a bit like this: food and drink piled on the kitchen table. Paper after paper and chapter after chapter. Tae's whole collection of glittery gel pens poured out onto the table. Blue for Namjoon, purple for Jungkook, pink for Jin, and so on. Panic and congratulations call for champagne. You and Yoongi share a singular glass. Pleasantly buzzed by the time you're even halfway through.

You each start with a chapter and work your way through it line by line. Making notes of what's not clear and what is. What works and what doesn’t. Halfway through, Jin complains that the main love interest is too much like Hoseok for him not to fall in love with him with every wry line. Tae admits, "Yeah I actually did use things Hobi has said for some of the dialogue. Jungkook too."

Surprisingly, the people who are the best at editing are Hobi and Yoongi. Namjoon makes it sound a little too clinical, and Jungkook's edits can border on nonsensical (Although occasionally he pulls a line out of his ass that even Tae's jealous of). Jimin and Jin are better at spotting typos than any of them. But with Hobi and Yoongi, Tae reads through their chapters and finds very little wrong with their additions and changes.

When Tae confesses this, Hobi just grins and kicks back in his chair and flicks the papers back and forth between his hands. "I’d tell you I told you so, but judging from how much you call Jack a pretentious prick in this- you already know. I’m totally going to make a playlist for this-”

Yoongi bumps shoulders with him, sitting next to each other in two chairs with you sprawled across both of their laps, a little drunk, a little ridiculous. “Gonna put mambo number 5 over the fight scenes, huh?”

“Or Naked in Manhattan." You giggle and sneak sips of his champagne (is it really sneaking if he hands you his glass after every sip?) "Fuck I totally want to put pink pony club on."

"Do it lady." Yoongi says.

Hobi leans back, looking a bit in love. You’re unaware of it. Kicking your feet, jerking when Yoongi tickles your ankle. "That’s like ugh- my favorite song of the day."

Jungkook snorts. "More like your favorite song of the month. You made me play it three times during kickboxing."

"Hey! Be nice- it reminds me of Tae." Tae flushes and promptly hides her face with a sheet of her book, littered with check marks from pink glittery gel pen edits. Namjoon reaches over and bops you with his pen.

"After! Play naked in Manhattan because that’s actually my favorite song." The pack gives you control of the playlist. Namjoon gets up obediently to refill everyone's glasses.

Hobi leans into your personal space, fingers itching up your ankle. Sneaking under the loose pants of your pajamas. Yoongi’s hands hover on your waist. Ticking from rib to rib to an imaginary beat. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

Yoongi all but growls into your ear, smile pressed to your cheek. “I love it when you guys flirt using music it’s like- totally fucking hot.”

“Guys!” The three of you look up. The whole pack is watching the three of you, but you make no move to untangle yourself. And when you lean back, you can feel the warmth of Yoongi’s chest and it jiggle as he laughs against your spine.

Everything here feels so nice, taking away Tae's stress, the sight of Jungkook half-falling asleep at the table. Jimin scans the chapters and reaches the end too quickly, Namjoon with his hair all messy and pushed up, talking animatedly about the actual proposed biology of the fantastical creatures that Tae writes about. Everything feels so good living here. Loving here. Being here for her.

“We’re serious! It’s like totally cinematic!”

~-~

Whatever it was, whatever change the mating has had on Jin and Namjoon, the bulk result is that they’ve both gotten more protective and even more possessive. They’re calmer about it- sure. But with each other to feed off, you hardly have any room for argument. All they have to do is look at each other to be on the same page now. The pups try to band together sometimes, but Jin and Namjoon are good pack omega and alpha.

They rarely let anything slip through the cracks.

So when you’d initially floated the idea of getting yourself a car to make the almost 40-minute drive to and from school every day, it had been all but immediately caboshed. Namjoon was the first to voice his misgivings. Looking nervously between Jin and Yoongi as you outlined what you'd need over breakfast. “It's all the way into the city, it's like even farther than the hospital.”

"I can do it! And if I can't, there's always the train.”

“That’s romantic.” Tae had swooned, Jin had scoffed. “What it is is dangerous. Especially after lab.”

"When does that end again?" Namjoon asks.

"Not until 8," Yoongi recites from memory. "On the train, you probably won't be home until ten."  

“But that way I can study!" You’re a bit in love with the train. Yoongi had taken you on a date not too long ago, into the city to a little food tour from bakery to bakery. You'd taken the train then and met up with Namjoon near the hospital and gone home together the quick way by car. But you'd had your face pressed to the window the whole time, pointing out the street art and the little glimpses between the windows. You'd fallen asleep on his shoulder on the way home.

But now, Yoongi is panicking a little. Thinking of if that happened when you were alone. All it would take is a missed stop, a low phone battery, and one bad person with an agenda. Sure nothing might happen- but is it really worth the risk?

Even Jimin raises his eyebrows, “The train is dangerous at night, and have you ever driven into the city on your own before?”

“No, but I can work up to it!” Even Jungkook had tilted his head to the side, unsure. Exchanging glances with the whole pack while you'd prattled on to Tae, whose smile was just about ready to slip off her face as you talk about a car. Something safe, something small. And wouldn't getting matching cars with Seokjinie be so cute?

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hobi who had first volunteered. “You already have a car, our car. I can drive you every morning. What time would we have to leave by? 7:30? That way I can be back for my shift by 9.”

“It would be a lot of miles to put on the car, and a lot of time for you.”

Hobi had just looked at you over a bite of breakfast. Eyebrows raised, headphones already looped around his neck. His look was impassive and sharp, and left no room up for debate. “Then put them on the car, I don’t mind.” (He got a pat on the knee for that one from Namjoon.)

As much as the pack hates to admit it, the idea of you not being here in the house at all hours of the day…It feels off. Feels new in a bad way.

They know it's what you want and a good, necessary change for you, but they’ve never known life at the house without you and Yoongi puttering about at all hours of the day. Without having someone to come home to. The constant soothing presence of an omega in the nest is something they’re reluctant to let go of…but maybe now that Jin is also home always and Tae is too- things will be easier.

Yoongi won’t have you as his little shadow anymore. He won’t have you hovering by his elbow at 11 for lunch or 3 for a snack. There will be no one waiting in the window seat when they come home, or the smell of baking things when Jimin returns from his schedule.

But baking is your passion. This has slowly gone from a dream you’re very scared to think of, to something you want desperately. The pack will help you achieve this goal, with the caveat that they keep you very carefully safe, mentally and physically, within the confines of what they deem appropriate.

This is a real future for you; you deserve more than just life as a nestmate. You want this future for yourself, too. The pack will do anything to give it to you. Anything.

Except letting you drive on your own.

This just means that you get to spend more time together with Hobi. Fiddling with Hobi's stereo and enjoying your morning coffee (and maybe studying in the front seat) and just being quiet together, commuting. Getting breakfast sandwiches when you have time and nodding off against the window when you stay up too late the night before, with Jungkook watching videos, or fucking and studying. Sometimes, at the same time, if Namjoon is feeling particularly motivated.

Or eating too many of the treats and sweets that you make in class and bring home for taste tests, leaving the floor of Hobi's car covered with crumbs from croissants, certainly spoiling your dinner. Exposing yourself to a gentle punishment and Namjoon and Jin's firm hands. Even Jungkook's one time when you ate all of something that he was looking forward to trying, when you do your unit on dietary restrictions.

You can imagine all of it already. So after a bit of fussing, you agree. It's scary, but somehow you can’t wait.  

~-~

Everything is sort of a blur after that. Fall starts, and you only have a few short weeks until your program begins. The pack drags you out for back-to-school shopping. textbooks and chefs knives. You pick up a coat and a chef's hat. And Jin demands that they get it embroidered with your initials just cuz.

It’s just culinary school. It’s not anything too difficult- but you’d looked over classes, attended a virtual meeting with your counselor from the kitchen table to pick and choose. Namjoon and Jin grip your hands under the table. Yoongi lingered close by even though Jin dominated the conversation. You tolerated it very, very well as they handle most of it for you. Getting just a little bit anxious by the end of it. And after, Tae pinched your cheeks and called you brave.

You've been hearing that word a lot recently. Brave brave brave. Being brave doesn't mean not being scared, doesn't mean not being anxious. It's what you do with your fear that counts.

(When she thinks about how far you've come, how much you've blossomed over the past few months, she gets a little misty-eyed. Sometimes she and Yoongi share looks over your head, or Tae sees him turning away, blinking rapidly, and taking a deep breath. The pack has been awfully careful with him these last few weeks. But Tae knows Yoongi can't help it. For all his stoicism, he really is so soft for you it hurts. Maybe it would be easier if the rest of them weren't equally as proud and overemotional over this whole thing.)

Your counselor had only been a little bit chagrined by the fact that Jin and Namjoon had done most of the talking during your meetings. “We get a lot of pack applicants.” She’d said after requesting a verbal 'yes' from you and not your pack omega.

But still, she'd been remarkably tolerant of Jin's many, many questions about the student body, tutoring centers, and other resources you’d have access to should you need them. His mating mark is plain and pink and new against his throat.

After that, your tuition is paid, and all too soon you count down to your first day. The pack takes you to tour the campus so that you’ll know how to get to all your classes before your first day. It’s about 10 minutes farther than Namjoon’s hospital, but he still says that he could drive you in once or twice a week, especially in your early days.

On your first day, Yoongi and Hoseok drive you. Yoongi is still in his pj’s in the back seat, letting you take the front. Your new school bag is packed with lunch, pretty Moleskine notebooks, and gel pens. All from Tae, who also did your hair and makeup today. Bound behind your head in two crisscrossing, pretty-looking Dutch braids to keep it out of your face.

Hoseok puts the car in park. And it’s almost audible the way that you hold your breath and try not to flinch at the sound. “We’ll pick you up at three. After your chopping class.”

“Knife skills. An hour and a half.” Yoongi recites from the back seat. You don’t know that the whole pack has memorized your schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays are your long days, Friday are your easy ones. Basics of French sauces and Cooking chemistry on Thursday and Tuesday.

Hoseok’s car is already getting more than a few backward glances from other students. Parked out front in a 15-minute parking zone meant only for drop off. The other students of the culinary school are dressed identically to you in double-breasted black button-down chef's coats. Buttoned to the collar. A glittery necklace from Jimin around your neck.

You’re going to stand out- Hoseok knows this because you could never be ordinary. He sort of hopes that your classmates will treat you well. That you'll make friends and find a place and a reason of your own here.

Hoseok looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Heart giving a lonely, grateful pang. “Don’t stab anyone, that’s more of a second week thing.”

It has the desired effect, you snort. “And so last year.” Your scent eases away from being quite so wet with anxiety, and Hoseok feels himself smile despite the tense atmosphere of the car.  

Yoongi looks at you in the mirror. “Do you want me to walk you to your first class?”

“If we both walk her the car will definitely get towed.”

“That’s why I said I’ll walk her. You can stay with your boring flashy car.”

“Oh, absolutely not- you’ll have to rock paper scissors me for that.”

You swallow, and both Hoseok and Yoongi stop their bickering to pay attention to you. “It’s alright, I know where it is.”

You don’t open the car door yet, nervous, knees jumping up and down, hand hovering on the door handle. Yoongi pulls himself around the front seat. Hoseok squeezes your knees and says, "Alright. You have 5 minutes to vent."

The words burst from you without your say so, the same anxiety jackrabbiting its way outside of your heart and head, bouncing around with nowhere to go. “What if I hate it? what if I don’t like it?- what if I paid all this tuition and made all this fuss and it’s for nothing? What if-” you continue, and Hoseok and Yoongi let you vent until it's clear you're done.

Tears are beading in your eyes, you turn and look towards the window to hide them, you don’t want to cry, because Tae did your makeup this morning, and you don’t want to mess it up.

Your makeup is something she doesn’t always have time to do anymore, between meetings with her editor and revisions of this and that chapter. Her negotiations with Jin and the publishing company are sort of ongoing, and there's already talk about Hoseok cutting back his hours at the flower shop just to help Jin with all the new paperwork. They split their time evenly between Jimin and Tae.

“Hey.” Hobi's voice is soft, “look at me.”

You do, and he’s smiling that same gentle smile as always as he cups your cheek rubs your tears away with a thumb. You sniffle. From the back seat Yoongi says, “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Hobi looks over at you, voice very serious. “If you hate it, you can call us and we’ll pick you up. No questions asked. We won't say anything and we don't have to talk about it at all." No one, not even Jin and Namjoon. I'll protect you. Hoseok promises to himself. "If you decide this isn’t a path you want to go on, you can stop at any time. This week or next week or six semesters from now.”

You go quiet for a second and then correct him. “It’s only a four-semester program.”

Yoongi nods, and Hoseok throws his hands up, “Well then, whatever! what I’m saying is you can do what you want and we’ll support you.”

You have 5 more minutes to make the two-minute walk before you’ll be late. You look to Hobi. Teeth worrying away at your lower lip. Yoongi chimes in. “It’s easier to get off a train after one missed stop than five. If you hate it, then fuck it. We’ve got you.”

“Promise? You’re not gonna be mad if I back out?”

“No. Not at all.” Yoongi means it, but doesn’t elaborate.

Hoseok holds out his pinky finger, the red tattoo around it just a little more faded than when you'd gotten it together. You loop it with yours, and for a moment, it looks like it's wrapped around both your fingers. "Promise." 

“Okay.” “Okay.” Your hand is on the door.

“I’m going to get out of the car now.”

“Okay,” “good luck,” “we love you.” “Text us if you get even a little bit anxious.”

You shut the door and wave to them as you start to walk away. Yoongi rolls down the window. "Wait! First day of school photo!" You turn around and flash a peace sign as Yoongi leans half out the window and takes a picture. Another one for his wall of photos. You're laughing as you turn and walk away. Shoes squeaking on the smooth concrete. Red Prada backpack that Jimin and Tae got you as a first day of school present, thwacking stiff against your spine as you hurry. Hobi laughs. He’ll tease you about that tomorrow.

Yoongi watches you go, braids swinging behind your head. They watch you glance up anxiously at a pair of second semester students (distinguished by their chefs coats, maroon instead of black) You let them go in front of you on the sidewalk, turning back to them and waving. Hoseok lifts his hand, although he’s sure you can’t really see it through the window tint, at least you can see Yoongi giving you a double thumbs up in the back.

The interior of the car is silent until Yoongi and Hoseok watch you go inside the building. Hoseok doesn't put the car in drive. Hands folded over the steering wheel, feeling something in his chest tighten as he watches you walk away. You glance back just once before you go inside. Like you're making sure they're still there.

“We’re gonna wait here until she gets out of class? Right?”

Yoongi scoffs, stretching his arms out behind his head, but Hoseok can tell he’s anxious as a live wire. After a second thought he climbs over the center console into the front seat.

“Of course we fucking are.”

They’ve got nowhere better to be. Hobi and Yoongi stay parked right there in the loop for as long as they can, checking their phones every few minutes just in case. Until security comes over and hassles them.

Yoongi speaks to them through the window, and the security guard tells him that they can park in the administrative lot and no one will bother them there (beta privileges).

They wait until you’re in your second class of three, bouncing from playlist to cat video to text message (Yoongi has more than a dozen from your packmates, and he has no doubt that your phone is littered with the same kind of encouragement but not the overwhelming concern for your wellbeing that they're expressing here. Everything is fine. Everything is great).

For the day before they leave for lunch, greasy and cheesy. Their Head bopping at the music and French fries spilling at bad dance moves, which turns into giggling, which turns into making out and napping. (Well, really, they go a little farther than kissing, but I don't need to bore you with the raunchy details and a slightly shameful visit to a coffee shop restroom)

It’s really not all that long to wait. Not for you. When you text them a thumbs-up emoji when they check in halfway through your day, Yoongi sags against the seat. Grinning.

They’re napping when you bound over to the car, whipping open the door and startling both of them bad enough that Yoongi hits his knee against the plastic of the front seat.

Yoongi almost jumps out of his skin, “Fuck!”

“How was it!” Hoseok wipes the crusties from his eye, turning to look at you, and he can tell from your scent already that oh- this is-

"Amazing!" you throw your bag down with a thud, and there go your shoes next, kneeling on the backseat while you unbutton your coat. You undo your braid while you talk, excitement making your voice fast and jumpy.

“They taught us how to make pastry cream! And we got to start our unit on seasoning pans, and they did this demo with vegetable shortening and butter and margarine, and I totally understand why cocoa like- doesn’t emulsify easily now.  And during chemistry, they explained elements and it was so confusing cuz I haven’t been in a science class in like 10 years, but I wanna ask Namjoon about it."

You babble excitedly, and Yoongi and Hoseok share a special secret glance as you continue to prattle on, throwing your shoes off and producing a pair of slippers seemingly out of nowhere.

"There’s this other omega in the class who’s my age, and she’s got really nice hair, and we were talking and she actually goes to Jk-ies gym too! And I think we’re gonna sit together at lunch tomorrow, and then after chemistry in food safety, we talked about meat and Jin is totally gonna give us food poisoning one of these days cuz you know he’s not careful about cutting boards and-”

~-~

Late at night, you curl up under Namjoon’s arm. Reading through your textbook while he reads his medical drama novel (A guilty pleasure). You told the whole pack everything over dinner, and might have requested a settling that Jin was only too happy to give very publicly over the arm of the sofa. Leaving you loose-limbed and now a little spacy, pressed close against Namjoon for comfort and aftercare and warmth.

He doesn't push, at least not much. It's only then, under the privacy of night, that he gets the chance to truly ask you without all the others there. “Did you like it?”

He’d heard all about it at the dinner table with the others, but Namjoon wants to know for sure about the risk of you backing out. Not that you couldn't. But knowing early that you're having misgivings about school will make any fallout easier for the pack alpha to mediate.

At dinner, the rest of the pack had you too excited to guess at your emotional state. There was a shaggy homemade cake, with 'Happy First Day' written on top in off center pink frosting- made by Tae and Jinnie. Complete with crumbs in the icing and maraschino cherries on top. A cute surprise (that had needed a fair amount of whipped cream, not to taste so dry).

Everyone had let you talk it out as long as you needed to. There had been a fair amount of teasing over your new friend, but everyone had been chubby-cheeked with their smiles and happy.

“I did.” You peck under his jaw. Namjoon hums and lets you nuzzle. Tries not to let the way you trail your nose up and down his mating mark affect him and fails dramatically.

"Pup. You have a lot of pages to read."

"I know, I'm reading." You take an open-mouthed breath of his scent, lips brushing his mating mark. Namjoon's scent hasn't settled yet, but like this- you can nearly smell Seokjin on him. That hint of milk, the coffee in his scent mellowed out slightly. A suggestion of something thick and sweet and tantalizing.

Namjoon cups the back of your head and forcefully moves it to face the book. "You know to read you have to actually look at your text book" You giggle and squirm. His hand settles on the small of your back, urging you closer to him. After a moment, you settle yourself against his pectoral. Flipping the page like you didn't just unhinge his whole emotional state.

Namjoon just sighs out a heavy breath and goes back to his book.

“It was good, I think I’m excited for tomorrow.” You say the second part quieter, not looking at him pointedly, like you’re not sure. Namjoon taps your textbook with two of his fingers. He smells like aftershave and coffee with cream, like home and alpha. His big hand tightens it's hold on you.

“Are you gonna be a good student?”

“I’m not sure yet.” You look down at your book, a soft smile on your face. “But I think I’m going to try.”

Joonie hums in approval, and when you finish your chapter, Namjoon kisses your temple, And shuts off the reading light.

~-~

Notes:

The thing about this chapter is that the reason why I didn’t want to work on it is that I’ve been applying to school again as someone whose almost 30 and I’m so fucking anxious about it. All my applications are done but I don’t find out until may/April if I got into either of the schools I applied too.

this is another chapter where i hate the beginning but i like the ending.

(tw: talks of aging and death) i've only talked about this a little and this is very angsty and involves the pack's death. but by the time all the others have died into the pack's 80's, hoseok, the m/c, and tae all do move to one of those cottages on the cliffs and give the house to one of their kids. the m/c and hobi go out on little walks every day until one morning hobi goes on his own and never comes back. The m/c and tae are the last two left and die on the same day and their pups have half the m/c's ashes interred with the rest of the pack and the other half sprinkled in the ocean to be with hobi forever. i think of the m/c and tae talking on the day hobi doesn't come back and them both being very used to their pack dying at this point and the m/c being like "i always knew i'd wake up one day and he wouldn't be there, but i really wish that day was tomorrow,"

The conversation with Jin and the conversation with Yoongi where both sections to this that sort of came about because I’m editing the beginning of prey animals still you know? like especially the part where jin is telling her he's sorry for shoving her is a direct result of me writing that, if you haven't read prey animals yet you really should!

i think when yoongi's talking to her on the stairs, what he's addressing is the danger of assuming you know best for someone you love, and his own admission that maybe he hadn't been able to properly help the m/c at the beginning of the series.

i don't want to talk much more about the m/c's anorexia in this story, and it's not because i think she never relapses, but there are some things that need to be wrapped up you know? i think you can feel that at the end of yoongi's part and i hope it doesn't make anyone too sad. i know there are a few people (me included) that don't want to let go of bily.

*m/c watching tae eat* i'm gonna nut

but lowkey i wish i had watermellon so bad after writing this like why is it winter :( i just want itttttt

i fell like jimin's dialouge doesn't quite fit all the way, but one of the things i do want to emphasize is that jimin does like this job better than his last alot and it does make him happy. like he's very clearly having happy sensory time with tae right there after being overwhelmed by a very good morning. idk, if you're autistic you'll get it. good things make you overwhelmed sometimes too.

i'm actually really proud of the m/c because you know, she did start out this story wanting to die and now she has this kind of vibrancy and tinacity for life. for dreaming. she's grown up so much *sniffle sniffle*

i think it matters alot that hobi is the one she told about her idea for the bakery first, like thats so soulmate of them you know?

i needed to make sure that heated rivalry exists in the bily universe. it just needs to exist here.

I think in the bily pack like- namjoon and the m/c's relationship is built on mutual respect, hoseok and the m/c's relationship is based on mutual understanding, and her and Yoongi's relationship is based on mutually assured destruction.

But mostly, summer just means Namjoon and Jin fucking on every horizontal surface available, and even some vertical ones when Namjoon is feeling particularly energetic. Filling the house with the distant sounds of slapping skin against skin, high-pitched moans, and deep growls.

It has Tae distracted from her world full of monsters and magic (and a heroine that looks like you and talks like you and just might have your eyes). Eyeing the ceiling in her little library room, a tell-tale trickle of dust interrupts her work from the heavy banging of the headboard above. Granted, it’s hard not to get distracted by it or dragged into it. The pack alpha and pack omega have reached new heights of audacity since their mating. They can hardly keep their hands off each other for a single hour.

You compare notes. They’ve fucked in the kitchen 5 times this week, the pack's old bedroom each time before that, and the hot tub so much that Yoongi had to drain it and replace the filter.

Namjoon has had a singular, all-consuming sort of focus on Jin since their mating. Both marks are red scars now, healed enough that the pack can touch them- something that you do often. It's all gentle strokes of hands over Namjoon’s throat when he’s lying prone, every inch of his body taught like a wire about to snap, grumbly growls slipping out every time you put your thumb to where Jin’s canine pressed. Or Yoongi in the shower with Jin, lazing about in the water. cheek resting against Jin’s dewy collar bones, nose pressing when Jin grants his husband the permission of “take what you need.”

It’s a pretty mark, smaller than yours by half a measure, because Jin’s plush lips had sort of gotten in the way. The space between Jin’s incisors and front tooth makes a lopsided little heart that the pack is a bit obsessed with and routinely teases Namjoon for to the tune of “Joonie, your heart is showing”. Namjoon's mating mark on Jin’s throat is a little less front-facing and a little more to the side, so pretty and just peeking beneath a wide collar. Less pink and less fuzzy at the edges, because Namjoon hadn’t had to bite deep to mark Jin, but Jin-

Jin had sort of mauled Namjoon- just a little. A deep mark, a complete claim. Unquestionable.  

You listen to them fucking, sort of endeared, sort of annoyed. Not that they wouldn’t drag you into it if you asked or dared to come too close. Or if you did something snarky, like bang on the wall to get them to quiet down. When you shift right, you can still feel the result of wandering too far into their orbit just the day before.

The hunger of a new mating mark knows no bounds, not for the pack alpha and pack omega, having one of their pups between the two of them, debauching and riling them up to the fullest extent, until there’s little more than a slick, soaked mess between your thighs is their idea of a perfect morning.

You might have had to beat them off of Yoongi with a newspaper when he complained of feeling sore. They’d raised their arms a little chagrined, looking a little younger and a bit more in love than usual. Communicating volumes with a single look- only to scamper off and immediately hassle Jungkook, who was only too happy to take Yoongi’s place.

Sometimes the noise gets to be a bit too much for you, and you go with Tae to the café in town. It’s a bit shitty, a bit old. The chairs aren’t deep enough to feel cozy, and the coffee is burnt.

It’s not the same 24-hour coffee shop that Yoongi and Jin used to work at; that one has suspiciously shuttered its doors sometime in the last few months. You have no doubt that Yoongi’s family is slowly closing out its fronts across this city- or maybe just in your corner of it. It’s wise to give Yoongi, you, and Hoseok a wide berth, and you can’t say you’re not happy with the distance.

It’s a nice place to sit with her and sip at your little drinks (its pastries are unfortunately sub-par). Even if there are things you’d change, the chairs for one, the dark walls another. But Tae looks pretty by the big window, the sunlight making her hair all red instead of just tawny. It becomes one of your favorite things- taking pictures of her and posting them to your old Instagram.

It’s a little sparse, since all of your pictures from your life before are deleted now. Lingering in your archive only when the pack asks to see pictures from your wedding or something else. You let them cycle through and don’t even consider seeing pictures of Geumjae because that’s not for you- not right now.

Now, your Instagram is littered with pictures of you and Tae playing dress up. Hobi and Yoongi at the beach this summer. Dots in the night sky from a late-night drive where you and Hobi drove to where the cliffs from up north meet the sea, and you had a perfect view of the moon and the Milky Way, and the lights on the horizon, a ship or an ocean liner off the coast right where the sky meets the sea. Distant but bright.

There you’d both reclined on the hood of the still-warm car. Whispering secrets between the two of you for old times’ sake as you watch the moon rise over the ocean, and watch the sea flow as if in slow motion. Your shoulder and his shoulder and only your shared sweatshirts between. Lulled to near sleep by the sound of Hoseok’s voice, roughly confessing.

“I think if we didn’t have the house, I’d want to live out here. Even though half these cottages look like they’re about to fall into the sea.”

Each picture on your Instagram might only get 7 likes, but it’s still nice to have that again. A sense of normalcy to have people to post to and post you. You take a picture of yourself, and the first thing on your mind isn't if you're worth it or if it will get you the bad kind of attention. There’s a sense of camaraderie to have Jin spamming your comments with a million hearts and Yoongi to comment, “wait, when did you take this?” To a picture of him open-mouthed, napping on the couch. It’s a bit of an archive.

Well, you don’t always get 7 likes; sometimes you get tons if you happen to post a picture of a certain blond-headed alpha. It’s hard to get used to. Sometimes you get…comments from Jimin’s fans. Most of them are relatively harmless.

'Oh my god he looks even better when they’re domestic together,' and 'pack goals,' or 'is this one his mate? She looks like an omega.'

'No it’s the other girl I think, and look at that mating mark. I think Jimin would tell us if he was mated.'

'Good that means I still have a chance.'

The ones that go farther from speculation, you just delete and let them wonder. Everyone is adjusting. Bit by bit. Week by week. It’s hard to realize where the empty spaces are in your life; the bits that don’t fit. You just have to wait until the right thing slips into place.

At the café, you play footsie with Tae under the table and watch her over the edge of your phone, skimming through TikTok or anything that holds your attention. Tae isn’t writing so much anymore- she’s just editing, which somehow requires more of her focus. You watch her crinkle her eyebrows and rub her lower lip, and reach to wipe her hands before she has the chance to get lipstick on her keyboard.

It’s something you see Yoongi do often, and it’s good to mirror him (he’s always sort of been teaching you how to love), but it’s hard for you to sit for too long before you get restless because now that you’ve started to work out regularly and move your body; It’s hard not to want to move all the time, to sort of need it.

You’re getting better, even if you don’t realize it.

~-~

Jin has been…well… ‘Threatening’ isn’t exactly the word for it, since the mating.

After the first few weeks of ‘no one but you guys can even look at Namjoon without me needing to bounce on his knot for a few hours,' the initial breeding frenzy has subsided. Jin is a touch calmer than the pack had ever seen him. Before he’d been stubborn, needing to handle every little thing for the pack, but now things are a bit looser, Jin's control slips in ways in never would have before.

These days, you guys talk about things a whole lot more. You’re not sure why, but maybe it feels like everything is truly over. Nothing is looming over your heads except for the rest of your lives. No murders or monsters or pasts waiting to bite, and no shoes waiting to drop.

Maybe it’s because there’s no hiding now; Jimin is in every other magazine, staring blandly out from behind blue bottles of perfume or modeling garish little vests (that Jungkook ends up wearing with nothing underneath). Jin has Namjoon's mark on his throat and Yoongi's ring on his finger.

He can feel their bond like a tangible thing in the corner of his mind. Namjoon's emotions are soft and often achey. Jin can't really feel them, not in the way that he can feel his own emotions. It's more like the sense of something that's hot or cold. Happy or distressed that comes ferried through a constant pressure and a pervasive feeling of steadiness. The mating bond is a tether, that keeps Jin from tipping over.

If getting mated felt like jumping from a high height, then Namjoon’s very being was what kept Jin from crashing into the uncertain future below. Every bit of Namjoon belongs to Jin.

Everything from his frosted tips to his gentle hands and rippling back muscles. The crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the way he laughs when one of the pups surprises them, or does something so cute that Jin can't help but feel the instinct to bite and settle. Everything about Namjoon is his. Will always be his. And will never stray far from him.

Coming up and settling into the bond feels like the most complete form of being, like the moment between a fireworks sparkle and its boom. The moment that the world holds its breath before sunrise.

Jin has never felt calmer.

Now that Jin understands what it means to be mated to someone, it makes the beginning of your relationship with Yoongi and the dependency you had on him (and continue to have sometimes) a lot more rational. And this bond is only half as strong as the one that you and Yoongi have.

The guilt is an unintended side effect of that.

Jin doesn’t hide it this time; he shares it. You stay up and talk about it just the two of you in the center of the nest. The little lacy tank top that he put you in earlier is distracting down to the last thread. It's plunging neckline tempts Jin's thoughts and his fingers.

Jin doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it; how much he loves you and how big the emotion feels in his chest. Some of it has to be from Namjoon. Everything still feels big and new, intense. He’s sort of getting used to Namjoon being everywhere. There's no such thing as personal space. No such thing as a separation between either of their decisions, emotions, or scents.

Namjoon's coffee scent now has a slight milky undertone, and Jin's likewise, has shifted from dollops of whipped cream to something slightly more savory and mature. It's something the pack can't get enough of (especially the alpha's) pressing their noses against throats, pushing each other out of the way because sharing is hard sometimes. cautiously stealing little nibbles until Namjoon's growl inevitably makes them whine and back down. He wakes up like that every morning.

Jin is realizing lately that these everyday habits are going to be the rest of his life, and it makes him feel like there's a lump in his throat. How good this is, how lucky he is to have a mate like Namjoon. The love and fierce protectiveness over pouring.

Thats how the mornings go- but the evenings always end up like this; Namjoon pressed hot and alpha along his spine, nosing into Jin's nape like he just can’t get enough of the other's scent. Hand possessively wound around Jin’s waist to cup his stomach while you linger and shimmy just a little closer, Hobi's knee between your legs.

Jin dips his fingers along your sternum, never going lower than your neckline. Touching just to touch. Fingers skimming over the silk dimple where your nipple sits, the half there imprint in the silk where your skin darkens.

Your pink collar sits on your clavicle, just as pretty as the day Jin bought it for you, although the bell is detached so that you can move around freely without waking the others. It’s a comforting weight around your throat, and although you aren’t in subspace or omega space and you haven’t had any sort of scene tonight, your eyelashes still flutter when Jin tugs. Fingers occasionally tangling with the metal loops whenever your attention sways.

The metal of Namjoon’s sits hot against the center of Jin’s back, and Hobi's puppy tag glints in the half light from the dimmed-down Christmas light above. And every other snore Namjoon’s breath becomes a growl. Hand twitching around the pack omega’s waist, hand splayed across his stomach under his sleep shirt.

But while the rest of the pack slumber on, you and Jin talk.

“When we first met, how long had it been since like you and Yoongi had-”

“About oh- I don’t know- maybe 8 weeks?” Your cheek dimples against your hand, and Jin pauses to curl a lock of your hair over one finger and then the next, examining it for split ends just in case he needs to schedule you another appointment. Things like that have slipped his attention recently, but at your words, Jin pauses his examination.

It’s been 9 weeks since the mating. Too long but not long at all; it still feels raw, even the skin around Jin's mating mark is still sensitive enough to ache. Mating marks are generally slow to heal.

“You’re kidding?” Jin picks himself up in the nest to look at you, and you smile sadly. Jin’s incredulity does not disturb the quiet; his hands stroke down your waist, from your ribs to where it tapers, the thick flush of your hips and down, only to trail back up again. “I don’t know how I never realized it was that soon.”

“Yeah, it was a bit of a mind fuck.” You tip your head back and let him touch his fill. You are in no position to deny him anything- not that you’d ever want to. Jin could drag you over his lap right now for a settling, and your only complaint might be that it would wake the others.

And Tae needs her beauty sleep.

She's laying on her side just behind Yoongi in a matching slip to your top. The silk mask over her eyes. Hair spilling close to Jimin's hand, like he'd fallen asleep wrapping it around his knuckles again and again. The repetitive action is soothing to Jimin’s senses. It’s sweet to see, to connect the still life of your pack to their routine. Jungkook’s loud snoring punctuates the quiet.

“I couldn’t even like, let him up to go to the bathroom sometimes.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

You snicker, and Hobi shuffles closer behind you. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not. He noses forward, nose hitting the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. “Pretty sure I gave his bladder permanent damage, but he also went through this stage where he wouldn’t let me walk on my own and wanted to carry me everywhere, so it was very tit for tat.”

You tip your head down, shy about the way that Jin is looking at you, and feel the cool press of Hobi's lips against your spine. The warmth of his breath and the press of his stomach against your back as he inhales. Jin’s dark hair lies over his forehead, watching the two of you with something hungry but unvoiced behind his expression.

“I was also like- really fucking weak at times so-”

Jin tugs at your collar. Finger trailing up to your chin. “None of that. No negative self-talk.”

Jin’s fingers trail lower, and you shimmy, not uncomfortable, but very aware of your own desires, very aware of how this is a serious conversation and so not the time but.

“Jinnie-” you whine.

Jin’s fingers press as he cups your ribcage, fingers teasing oh so gently. Thumbs rubbing circles. “What? You said Tit?” You laugh and press yourself into Jin’s front, your packmates around you snuffle, and Namjoon’s next breath is definitely a half-awake growl. You lower your tone when you pull back, grinning at Jin. His smile stays mostly the same, but then falters. His hands smooth up and back instead of to the front. His fingers splay across your scapula to your spine. Drumming there. pulling you away from Hobi, who lets you slide away.

Jin doesn't take you over his lap, he doesn't reach between your legs or do anything sexual. He shuffles so that you can lie on top of him, putting both his arms around you and pulling you snug. Until all of your weight is across him. A lying down hug. "there we go. that's better"

"Jinnie?" you try to pull back, but his arms keep you where he needs you. and his next breath is shakier that you expect, eventually his hold loostens, and you can pick yourself up to look at him again.

“Sorry. instincts." he shakes his hair out of his face, and when you glance back, you realize Hobi's moved in his sleep, chasing you. "But still, when I think about how I shoved you, how aggressive I was- I’m lucky you didn’t rip out my throat.”

You lean your chin on his pectoral, watching him work through it. “The validation of you saying that feels nice, even if it’s been years.”

Jin shakes his head, plush lips pressing together in displeasure at how you dismiss it. “Just one year, I shouldn’t have-”

“Jin, you’ve already apologized for it like a million times-”

“But still-”

“If you really want to apologize, you could-" Jin’s face dips, nipping at your collar right where he knows you're ticklish, and peals of laughter and giggles join the quiet as you squirm away. Hobi makes a noise in the back of his throat as you wiggle into him. Jin holds you where you are, but the nest shakes with the sound of your laughter.

Tae is the only one to wake up at the sound, sitting up with a fluff of silk and feathers and a crinkle of the duvet. Taking off her mask with a pout. Glossy eyepatch sliding off her cheek. Disapproval radiated along her glower.

The alpha huffs and leans over to hook her fingers into your collar. Giving you a little shake. You smile through it, and when you pull back, Hobi's half-open eyes are glaring at you in the darkness. “Sorry” you say. Shrinking.

Jin’s giggle has the nest shaking again. And his hand wraps around your waist again, this time more firmly. “I’ll settle her Tae.”

~-~

Jin has a fair amount of work to do now that Jimin is sort of a superstar.

They still haven't found an adequate solution to his agent and manager problem. And Jin is reluctant to let that kind of control slip to someone who isn’t pack. There are magazines littered around the house, contracts in big piles. Sample photos and headshots in Manila envelopes. Yoongi had Jimin's first advert framed and put in the stairwell so that the pack can pass by it every time they come upstairs. Jimin hasn’t been a cover model yet- but it's only a matter of time.

There are dozens of other photos hanging in the stairwell too; a picture of you all at the beach. One of you and Tae are all dressed up with more glitter than skin showing. A photo with a Noodle wearing one of Tae's silk scarves around his neck like a bowtie.

A picture of the pack, long long before you and without Hobi too. Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung look impossibly young. Probably from soon after they'd all moved in together. A baby photo of Jin in a pint-sized hanbok, one of Namjoon and a dozen other pups who all look vaguely like him in front of a big mid-century house. One of Hobi standing in front of a carousel.

One of Yoongi at the old coffee shop with Jin, looking so lanky that it’s hard to believe he was ever that small, and one of Hobi and him at the record store, sitting on stacks of old speakers, jeans cuffed, the phone that took the photo probably propped up against some boxes. Most of them are grainy and taken with old iPhone cameras but you can feel the fondness, the love, the joy, even through time.

But there’s one photo, halfway up the stairs, that you avoid looking at if you can help it. It's not a bad photo of you by any means. 6 months ago, you would have said it's the prettiest photo of you ever taken.

It's one of the first you’d ever taken at the house, shortly after the pack had moved in last summer. It's innocuous, maybe Tae took it or Jin- but in the photo, a sickly looking you is curled up with Yoongi on the porch. A plate full of watermelon rinds sits on the table in front of you all. Chewed and mostly green. Jungkook is equally asleep on the opposing sofa. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against your mate's throat, tired because your body just hadn’t had enough energy to keep going back then.

But how could your arms look so brittle? And was your hair really that thin? Did you always look so miserable?

The bags under your eyes are darker than bruises, and the way you're holding your body- you can feel the hurt all the way from here. You don’t know when your body stopped aching, when everything stopped hurting, only that you’re different now. Sometimes, when no one is looking, you pause on the staircase eye level with the photo and stare at the version of you that you no longer recognize. A time that you can’t really remember all that well.  

Yoongi notices, because Yoongi notices everything when it comes to you.

He comes upon you one morning, behind you as you pause. Tae is already upstairs getting ready, one or two packmates showering off the nighttime. You paused there in your fuzzy socks and a big shirt of Namjoon’s passing for pajamas.

The house is full of giggles and quiet. Noodle meows while Hobi feeds him. Tae says something to Jimin that makes Jin laugh upstairs. The sound of Jungkook softly singing under his breath. Namjoon clanging through the dishes from breakfast. His turn this morning. Your turn tomorrow.

You turn, registering that Yoongi’s coming up behind you, that you’ve been caught. “Oh, I was just-”

Your excuses die in your throat but you stay put as Yoongi ascends the steps to where you stand in front of the picture. It’s normal-sized, 4 by 6 inches of pure misery. You flush at being caught, although you’re not sure why you don’t want him to know you’re ruminating on it.  

“Ah, that one.” He says when he sees what photo you’re looking at. “I could be wrong, but I think that might be the first photo we have together.” He smiles at it. And you shift. Nervous.

“Oh, It is? I just-” you look back at it, and Yoongi sets his hand on your waist, looking too.   “Does it bother you? I can take it down, I know it’s not from like- a good time but-” Yoongi looks at it, lips quirking. And doesn’t say what he maybe could have. That it wasn’t a good time in your lives, but Yoongi can’t let go of the only time he got you all to himself. That it reminds him of the intention behind love.

Mating marks can only do so much, even beta ones.

It’s a reminder that you two can love each other, but it’s always something you’ll both have to work at. You and Yoongi will never have a blow-up, you’ll never assume you know what’s best for each other, or love each other without hope behind it. Maybe that’s why he’s fond.

Maybe.

“It doesn’t bother me.” You say, and you decide that it’s the truth. “I just didn’t realize how I looked back then.”

Yoongi just taps his fingers on the banister of the stairs. Watching you and the curve to your cheeks and chin, the curve to your whole body. So different from where you started. There’s nothing sexual to Yoongi’s comparison; there's no worth that he ascribes to the version of you in that photo that he doesn't give you now. Only the trickle of a memory and the quickening of his heartbeat.

He steps closer to you. “Yeah. It was pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi shrugs. Cupping your elbow with his hand. A small request for you to continue up the steps. After a moment, you do. Ascending into the pack’s bedroom where the sound and scent of Jimin and Jin are closer and Tae's giggle sounds even sweeter. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault for being so sick.”

“How long are you going to say that?”

On the landing, he shrugs, hands in his pockets. Takes one of them out and tugs on your sleeve. It’s an oddly childish action for him, and you realize with a pang that he must have picked it up from you. It’s strange how you leave your mark on people, how you take pieces of them and they take pieces of you. Yoongi smiles at you and says, “Until you believe it. Probably forever if you need me to say it.”

The distress is suddenly overwhelming, and unlike before, you don’t hide it. “Yoongi, I was doing that to myself-”

“And you made yourself get better too-”

You snort, “I definitely did not. You and Jungkook like- force fed me for a whole 3 months.”

His head tilts to the side. “You know I don’t like it when you say force feeding.”

“I- sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just never again.” Yoongi says it solemnly, and it sounds like a promise as you nod. Yoongi takes your hand in his, fitting his fingers in between yours until they tap at your knuckles. Guiding you gently to the bathroom. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ll never get that bad again.” Yoongi stares at you, waiting for you to say it back.

“I won’t.”

Yoongi sticks out his pinky. And the rest is history.

(The two of you leave the picture there and let it be. It’s not the last photo that the hallway will get- and that’s a marvel, isn’t it? That you have your whole lives to look forward to. That your pups' first day of school pictures and graduation photos will one day be hung here (like your and Tae's wedding photos and Jimin’s 3 Vogue covers, like Tae's Pulitzer Prize certificate for her 5th book, and an article about your café in the paper,

but I’m getting very, very ahead of myself here.)

~-~

Jimin hasn’t been on the cover of Vogue yet, but someday soon he will. His career is moving at lightspeed. It’s been maybe 4 weeks since the whole ‘Mr. Park’ thing. You think that maybe it will never slow down but that that might be a good thing for Jimin as you eat late summer watermelon with the pack on the porch. Waiting for Jimin to come home from an early morning photoshoot.

When he does it's with a smile, taking the stairs two at a time and doing a twirl to show off his new outfit- that he definitely didn't leave the house in to all of you sitting there.

Namjoon smiles from the doorway at Jin coming up the stairs, in their own little world as they drag Jungkook upstairs for god only knows what (probably a bit of nasty filthy sex, not that the other omega is at all complaining)

Jimin smells like vanilla and expensive shit as he ducks low for a kiss and then flops right there in all his Gucci glory. Hobi leans over and puts his finger through the artfully distressed holes in his sweater. “The director liked me so much they let me walk home with this shit-”

“Oh, I’m totally stealing this,” You grill him. You want to know everything, and none of it is a secret. You steal his fancy sunglasses and trade them back and forth with Tae, slung across Jimin’s lap like some sort of willowy daydream straight out of Sappho’s poems. And Jimin gets progressively more flustered the more she trails her nose up the column of his throat. Increasingly more distracted as he tells you about the mansion on the cape and the castle by the sea and the liquid organza suit coat they put him in.

"You should be the model, not me," Jimin tells her, but Tae just shrugs, before leaning forward to grab a perfect chunk of watermelon. Pressing the pink square between her teeth with a juicy squish that you feel in your tummy for some reason. When you look at Hobi, he's grinning at you knowingly. You flush and look away, feeling found out for some reason.

"I like writing more than I like being pretty, and this way I get to have the designer stuff without any of the work."

Jimin trails his nose along the crown of her head. "One of the many benefits of being my girl, I guess." Jimin teases, fingers slipping lower on her waist.

"Many benefits huh? Tell me more. What else do I get from this arrangement?" Jimin's fingers continue to trail lower, cupping between her legs, and you lean up, slap him a little.

"We are on the porch Jimin, anyone could see."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You are literally kneading Tae's ass like a dough ball."

"Well come over here and I'll knead yours too. You can consider it practice for when we make salt bread again."

"You're impossible."

"Impossibly attracted to both my girlfriends is what I am."

Hobi's eyes naturally travel to your back end, blatantly poised in his direction as you lean over the coffee table.

You jump. Flushing terribly, looking over your shoulder at Hobi, who looks at his phone like he hasn’t done anything at all. He's scrolling through something, and when you lean back into him with a huff, you realize it's a sample of the photoshoot. Jin must have sent him the pictures.

Hobi has sort of been helping Jin wade through some of the paperwork for Jimin's job. It was a mountain of work for Jin alone. And asking Hobi to get a second look at some things was second nature.

“It’s not a big deal, they literally just ask me to touch my face and then take a picture.”

Hobi scrolls through, “Easy money. These are like- so fucking good.”

“Easiest money of my fucking life, I fell asleep during makeup today and they freaking cooed at me-”

"You never fall asleep when I do your makeup."

Jimin leans forward to nip at her jaw. "That's because there's an incentive to stay awake." Tae hadn't gotten flustered, had just looped her arms around Jimin’s neck and whispered something into his ear that made him go bright red.

Jimin hasn’t had to go anywhere international for his job yet- but he did go to Los Angeles last week. A city that Jimin described as too hot and too sprawling. That you’d have hated all the traffic and Ubers. You’re surprised Jin didn’t go with him.

You know why he didn’t go- because he's worried about you and your application to culinary school. You have this near vibrating anxiety while you wait and wait and wait to hear back. But there's been nothing.

Nothing so far. Sometimes you wonder if it's even worth all this stress and effort. You'd be happy here just living like this for your whole life. Money is not an issue. You have enough money where you could all honestly do that without feeling the consequences for several decades, if not the rest of your lives, if you invested it properly, but…

Managing Jimin has been amazing for Jin's mental health. And Jimin likes it too. And maybe you want something like that- a purpose. Yoongi has the house, Tae has her book, Jin has Jimin but you. What do you have besides this?

It feels good to have something to look forward to, something to do beyond just twiddle your thumbs, love them, and wait for your life to pass.

Even if you’re scared.

~-~

Late that night you take one of your late night drives with just Hobi. You go to your spot and get greasy drive in food and enough french fries to put an elephant into a food coma. In the car with just Hobi, you tell him.

"I think I want to open my own cafe." He raises his eyebrows at you. Lips fumbling with a straw between his teeth, sucking down his soda. The car idles warm and the night outside hovers quietly. You haven't even told Yoongi this yet.

He puts his cup in the cup holder. "Before school or after?"

"After. If I even get in-"

He scoffs, rolls his eyes a little, you hit his shoulder. he goes for your armpit, and you jerk, ticklish. "Of course you're going to get in-"

You shimmy in your seat. Wound up. "Okay but anyways- maybe it could be a cafe and a bakery or maybe just a bakery. Or both- or-" you turn to him, the paper crinkle of paper between the two of you tossing crumbs on the floor that he doesn't comment on one bit.

"Alright. tell me about it." You start to talk, to outline it, starting slowly at first and then faster. Your words rapid fire.

Hobi turns down the music and listens.

~-~

You still haven’t heard back from culinary school. Still haven’t found out if you’ll get to attend this fall. You checked a few internet forums, and you know the first round of acceptances has already gone out. It’s easy to second-guess yourself, easy to assume that you won’t get in during the second round, at least not this year.

It’s a simple morning when it happens.

The curtains on the porch wave and waft in a breeze that comes all the way from the sea. Tae picks out your mug for you as you move slowly, bumping into anything that moves too quickly. Namjoon catches you before you crash into one of the chairs at the island, ducking down to kiss your forehead with a soft smile before moving you in Tae's direction, your de facto minder for the morning.

The weather is shifting into something colder, and maybe you cling to the nest a little bit more on these mornings when the threat of fall tickles your ankles.

Tae tugs you this way and that, tickling you under your arms so you squirm against her front while Yoongi pours your coffee, glances over his shoulder at you once and then again. Tightening your robe around your waist when you shiver. Jimin is away this weekend at a shoot in the city (for an underwear shoot of all things), and it has everyone a bit on edge. Just one night. He should be home by dinner. It's easy to tell themselves that, but-

Tae is always a little extra clinging and domineering when he's gone.

You’re ready to recline with her wherever she might put you and go back to sleep to pacify those instincts. You love cuddling with Tae. Love it so much you think you can’t bear it sometimes when she wiggles away in the early morning to go edit (the nerve). Like she did this morning, and you woke up pouty and a little grumpy over it. Eager to accuse her of neglecting you (and get some kisses afterwards).

You’d all but shuffled into her library room, settled on her lap, leg on either side of her waist in the chair, slightly bigger than the old one. The others got it for her when she realized how much she didn’t mind you curled against her front last winter, but you’d wound your arms around her shoulders and promptly gone back to sleep for a few minutes. Before Hoseok’s humming in the kitchen and the smell of coffee and pancake batter had tempted the two of you out of your little bubble.

Now, the cup of coffee that's on the table is doomed to go cold. Noodle yowls, and you tuck your face into Tae's tummy, putting the hem of her shirt over your eyes and closing them. She laughs and says something that's not meant for you to reply to. Your thoughts swirl with ebby patterns of comfort, too warm to think straight, finally finally horizontal on the couch.

Namjoon hums, and you feel a hand crest your knee, shifting you so that your hips are in line with your spine. Namjoon is so-

You press up into his hand like a cat, fingers digging into the pressure points on the back of your neck, not scruffing you, but close.

Happy shivers go up and down your back as Namjoon rubs, and you think you might chirp a little, or purr, or both. His answering hum is deep and sweet as he runs his fingers over your shoulders, squeezing just until the pressure releases. He laughs when you make another noise after he stops. His sleep-roughened voice is all grumbly as he says, “Still tired? Maybe we should take you back upstairs.”

Hoseok disappears from the room, his humming goes as does his caramel scent in the air, your fingers flex where they're tangled in Tae's PJs, needy. You curl up into her, all but bathing in the dewy smell of her skin, the conditioner on her hair, her rosy scent, oh so comforting. You’re used to falling asleep to the sound of the pack moving and talking all around you. You find comfort in the sound of their overlapping voices, going in and out of consciousness.

The next time you're lucid, Namjoon’s hand has crept a little higher on your leg, and Tae's warning growl lets you know there is at least some conflict going on. Her arm tightens around your waist. Her palm cupping the back of your head possessively. “Go get your own omega, this one’s mine.”

“You so sure about that?”

But whatever playful argument is going on, it’s none of your business if Tae and Namjoon feel the need to settle their hierarchy a little bit this morning. You doze, turning your face into Tae's skin and nosing against her navel.

You sleep, listening to the sound of them all. The sound of arms wrapped around bodies, the wet sound of smacking kisses, and the click of the range as Yoongi starts making breakfast. The quiet sound of the pack omega asking Namjoon to bring a heavy basket of laundry upstairs before Jungkook does. The pack alpha's happy little fluff of scent into the air as he does it. Always happy to do what Jinnie asks.

But the quiet can only last so long.

Jungkook and Hobi tear into the house, bare feet working against the floor as they try to overtake each other. They get caught in the doorway, both trying to pass through at the same time, getting tangled in the process. Jungkook wraps his arms around Hobi's waist, but the alpha, slighter but stronger, holds his ground. “Guys, you’re letting out all the cold air,” Jin reprimands, but it falls on deaf ears.

"It's here! It's here!" Tae jostles you. Knees jumping with her jerk of surprise.

Jungkook falls to the floor at the same moment that Hoseok valiantly grabs an envelope from his hands, giggling. And you-

You're still totally asleep on Tae's lap. Thoughts syrupy slow. Seokjin and Yoongi look up from the barely prepared breakfast. Incredulous until they see what Hoseok has valiantly held over his head. Yoongi makes an aborted noise, cutting the heat, although the butter sizzles on. Wiping his hands and coming over.

“Finally!” Tae chirps.

“Really?” Namjoon shouts from upstairs.

"Yes, Joonie, really!" Namjoon rushes down the stairs, almost tripping. Falling onto his ass with a loud thud thud thud. “Namjoon, slow down. You’re not coordinated enough for that,” Jin scolds, spatula held in threat.

“Guys don’t open it-”

“We’re not!’’

jungkook laughs, hops a few times and tries to bat at Hobi's head. “Wake her up-"

Tae's hand tightens around your back, curling over the nape of your neck protectively. “Don’t you dare-”

Namjoon rubs his ass, “baby girl, she’d want to be woken up for this-.”

Namjoon’s tone as pack alpha is not one that the others will obey today. Tae all but pouts at him. “Give her a few moments- she was up late last night.”

Yoongi snorts, “and whose fault is that?”

“Mine.” Namjoon says instantly.

Tae grits her perfect teeth, “no it was totally mine.”

Jin crosses his arms and waits until Namjoon is taking a sip of his coffee before he asks. “Are you both in rut or something?”

Jin thinks that there’s something satisfying in seeing the alpha snort coffee through his nose, to feel the jump of surprise down their bond. Even though Jin knows they’re not. Alphas just get like this sometimes. Especially heading into the wintertime.

You lift your head, a little grumpy at being woken so abruptly. One closed fist rubs at your eyes, cheeks faintly flushed, scent sweet and chirping. You peer up at them, surprised to find them looking down at you. Blinking at them slowly. Sniffling a little.

Everyone goes quiet all at once, then they break, "Oh my god, we're evil-" "The worst." Yoongi sets a hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair softly. "Go back to sleep, little lovely."

Jungkook picks you up, a normal occurrence. You make an affronted noodle-like noise as he places you on your feet, swaying a little. holding you up partially.

“Kookie,” you whine.

“It’s here! It’s here!” Hoseok holds a little white envelope and shoves it under your nose. You’re suddenly wide awake, suddenly unable to concentrate on anything else, standing in the living room in your pj’s, Tae holds around your knees, still standing between her legs, everyone else between the ottoman and the couch crowding your space. “Go on pup.” "Please, the anticipation is killing us."

You sway.

“Open it open it open it!” Jungkook bounces on his heels, the baggy shirt he wears crinkling with an audible sound. Your hands are shaking so badly as you rip it open. Your gaze flickers up to Namjoon's, then Yoongi's. Leaving it folded. But there's a lot of paper, and maybe they just make their rejection letters really, really long.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re not going to be sick,” Hoseok pecks the back of your neck, hand comfortably resting on your hip. Everyone has Their heads bend over the paper as you scan the document. You lift your eyes, and Yoongi is the first person you make eye contact with. He’s smiling ear to ear before you even tell them.

Your voice is small and quiet and more than a little scared, hands trembling.

“I got in.”

The cheers erupt immediately, and the small little voice in your head that wonders why you’re worth celebrating at all goes quiet as you watch them. Hoseok pumps his hand, Jungkook all but leaps into the air with a great big whoop.

Namjoon spins you, lifting you clear off your feet, spinning and spinning and spinning, tucking his face into your throat. You’re fully awake and giggling when he sets you down.

Yoongi dabs at his eyes, turning away for a second before he hugs you. Setting almost his whole weight across your shoulder. You feel his relieved breath against your front, and through your mating bond, he ducks in to press a quick kiss to your grinning mouth. It tastes like relief. Maybe he’d never told any of you how worried he was- not about you not getting in- but about what might have happened to your self-esteem if you hadn’t. But you know, you know how he must have worried, what he must have felt.

Yoongi cups his cheeks in both your hands, your flush goes unnoticed or unteased at. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You're doing your best not to be someone your family has to worry over these days. It's hard. But you really are giving it your all. You nod at his words, unable to communicate to him what that means to you.

“Of course, she got in," Jin sounds almost offended at the very suggestion of Yoongi's disbelief. "As expected of my pup.”

But there’s still his hand on your chin, tilting your face up to his so that Jin can wipe at your tears, but just as quickly as you’re crying in happiness, your anxiety spikes. Holding the pieces of paper, not only your acceptance letter, but the heavy set of other instructions about tuition, uniform, and necessary first-semester materials.

“I’ve never been to college before and I'm so old, what if everyone is younger than me?” But the pack knit close around you. Nipping that in the bud before even a seed of doubt can begin to grow.

Jimin huffs, blinking from a small screen in Jungkook’s palm. A barely visible, very bright hotel room around him. His voice sounds grainy through the phone. “It will be alright. You’ve got us. You’ll have me as soon as I’m home.” 

“Hurry Minnie.” Hobi huffs, “yeah, Tae and Namjoon are worried about you.”   “I am not!” Namjoon cries.

Tae clicks her tongue. “Oh you so are-” he shoves her lightly. It’s more of a tickle.

“Hey! I am a lady!” Her indignation only gets her so far as Namjoon all but covers her body with his. you take the phone from here, and Jimin promises a celebration tonight. Probably drinking and food and maybe a very very nicely wrapped congratulation present that the pack have shoved into the back of the coat closet. something they put together for you just incase you.

Jin nods, making eye contact with you, hand coming up to cup your cheek and rub away your happy tears. “We can help with everything.”

Jimin chimes in, “Yeah, Joonie already said he’d help you study.”

But you just pout at that, “it’s not medical school.”

Is it that the pack alpha's shoulders are puffed up, or is it just your imagination? He leans away from Tae, taming her flyway, looking flustered. “Still. It’s your next chapter. You’re going to do well; I just know it.”

“Your faith in me is either misguided or foolish.”

“That’s a good line.” Tae says, and you turn to her, grinning.

Hobi sets his hands on your shoulders, turning you to look at him. “You’ve been spending too much time editing, and for the record, our faith in you is just the right amount.”

“Can you blame me? It’s like! Really hard to put down!” You’re scared, but bickering and bantering help. And you think you might be learning what the good kind of fear is and how to separate it from the bad kind. Even if both types of fear feel the same. They’re different. Aren’t they?

The pack has faith that you can do this, and you’ve never had a reason to doubt them before. “I can’t believe it- I can’t believe I’m actually going to go to school.” You look up at Hobi, like something just occurred to you, “Holy shit, what if I’m dumb?”

 “You are not dumb.”

Tae gives you a loving swat to your behind. “Hey! No negative self-talk!”

“I’m so scared, I’m not even excited- all I am is afraid.” Yoongi kisses you slowly and gently, taking his hand in yours. Jin and Namjoon are already looking over your book list and thinking about back-to-school shopping and getting you a pair of school-appropriate non-slip shoes. Jungkook and Taehyung are a mess on the couch. Jungkook continues whatever sort of push-and-shove game he started with Hoseok, but with Tae this time. Leaving you standing with just Yoongi and Hobi on either side of you.

Hoseok understands better than anyone the need to preempt enjoyment with disappointment as he teases you, "too bad, you're gonna get like- really good at chopping onions."

You pout up at him, "and baking cakes."

"You're already good at baking cakes."

“I know. I'm still scared.” Yoongi and Hoseok look at you, and you look back up at them. “That means I’m going to have to be brave, doesn’t it?”

Yoongi slides his hand from cupping your chin to your cheek, to your jaw, stroking over your mating mark once, twice, and then a third time.

“Yes. You’re going to have to be very, very brave.”

~-~

Tae sits in her library room, not looking at her computer but out the window to the hydrangea bush outside. The pink, blue, and lavender blooms are going crusty and bleached at the edges from the late summer sunlight, the last of them that Hobi has yet to snip away. Tae doesn't look at her computer, because she knows what she'll find.

In between waiting for you to hear back from culinary school, Tae has also been waiting for her own news. There is an email in her inbox, at the top of it, littered among a dozen other rejection letters, is a very, very different sort of email.

We’re very interested in ‘Girls and Other Dangerous Things,’ and we're very pleased to have found you and this project in its infancy. Our publishing company is willing to explore your options with you. We would love to meet at your earliest convenience to discuss a plan to take this from page to print.

You would think that Google would help her predicament, but a quick search of the company has yielded nothing but anxiety. New York Times bestseller lists from a decade ago and not much recent. Tae leans her elbows on her desk, the edge where you've worn away the wood slightly from leaning back against it. The mark of you slinging yourself across her lap to sit on her chair with her while she writes.

She hasn't told anyone yet; she got the email just this morning, but it's already 11am. She's sequestered herself here just because she knew the second she walked out into the kitchen that everyone, Jimin, Yoongi, you, Jin, would be able to tell that something was wrong.

Or that something’s gone very, very right for once. Tae's not sure which it is.

You have sort of a 6 sense when Tae's unhappy or scared or dysphoric at all and like normal you sort of just appear right in the nick of time, right before Tae risks being on the verge of a real panic attack. Rocking back and forth in her chair as she re-reads the email again and again and again.

You open the door to her library room without a second thought, although everyone else in the pack is firmly banned from interrupting Tae for all but the most necessary emergency (Jungkook feeling the lack of cuddles and wanting attention excluded from this list) you are not subjected to the same set of rules.

You let Noodle in too, tail raised high, cocking a hip against the doorway, clad in one of Yoongi's flannels and little else. Letting in the sound of the others' bickering and the smell of frying dough. Looking absurdly good in a way that makes Tae's pulse sort of hammer beneath her skin. She turns at the sound, jerky, chin resting on her hand, shoulders up to her ears.

“Hey,” you say in the doorway, smiling at her, your front covered in powdered sugar like snow. But ‘hey’ is never really just ‘hey’ when it comes to you.

"Hey," she says back, scent sour. She watches the moment that you scent it on the air, and a minute or two later, with the door closed and locked, you're slung across her lap in your same position as always. Listening to her rapid-fire words as she reads off the email, talks you through all the information about it. Her insecurities, everything she's worried about nothing kept from you. Eyes flicking from sentence to sentence.

“I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but they published that one series that I really liked just before I came out-”

"The one with the gay alpha hockey players?"

 "Yes, that one!" You wind your hands around Tae's back until your whole body is pressed against hers. You're a warm, comforting weight that makes Tae's whole body feel complete. Not a single ache or pain that she can pay attention to at all. Tae's heart gives a very painful but very lovely squeeze.

You pull back from her front, reaching up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and Tae feels so in love with you in that moment that she can't bear it. “Well, if you're asking me, I think your hopes should be sky high.”

“It’s not that good.”

Your knees squeeze at her hips in reprimand. You pull back and peer up at her. Tae tries not to meet your eyes but fails miserably. It's hard to be upset with you occupying all of her attention, but somehow she manages. “Tae, I’ve read it, and it’s amazing. You know it’s mean if you argue with me. I can’t believe I’m gonna have to wait like- a whole year to read the second one.”

Her hands loop around your waist. And her nose bumps against yours. “So I’m a meanie huh?”

“The meanest, you won’t even like- let me read the epilogue.”

“Because the epilogue is sad. And for the record, I’m not going to make you wait a whole year, you know I’m just waiting until I know if I should pursue it to start on the second one…” Tae pauses and realizes her words. Realizing that she has just heard back. “I sent them stuff like 4 months ago- and I only sent them the first 10 chapters and-”

Kissing her is an efficient way of shutting up the part of her that is endlessly insecure. Tae's insecurities have never bothered you ever, but you're vibrating with excitement here. Tae knows just by looking at you that you're not going to be able to contain yourself in telling the rest of the pack.

You turn around in Tae's seat and reach for her laptop. "Pup- what are you doing? Pup- no-"

You type quickly, sending an eager email back quicker than she can think to grab your hands and truly stop you. The two of you wait with bated breath, but the admin or secretary- whoever is reaching out on behalf of a Mr. Bang gets back to Tae with lightning speed, offering 6 available times over the next week at their Boston office, with further concessions if none of them fit Tae's schedule.

“Do you want me to go with you to your meeting?”

Tae's head tips down; she’s worried about hurting your feelings. “Is it weird that I kind of wanna do it alone?”

You nuzzle into her hairline, and Tae's breath comes easier. “No. Not at all.”

~-~

"Are you sure?" Jungkook asks, hanging out the window of Jin's car to look at Tae standing on the street corner.

Jin’s driving, the hazards on his car flashing every other rapid heartbeat. Out front of the building to drop her off for the meeting of a lifetime. Jin and Jungkook took her because they were the least likely to set off her already fried senses (Having the alpha's around might make Tae feel too instinctual, and she already feels like a dog pressed into a corner) and they're less likely to feed off of her anxiety and make it their own (like you and Jiminie).

Someone behind them honks loudly, but Jin just adjusts the mirror and quietly commits their license plate to memory.

Some habits die hard.

“I could wait in the lobby.” Jungkook nibbles at his lower lip. Clearly worried. Tae shuffles in her heels on the sidewalk, pulse hammering as she looks up. She has clear instructions on how to access the 58th floor of this building and get to the publishing house. Jimin is pacing the floors back home. Tae knows this, and yet her soulmate had let her come on her own. Tae's almost proud as her hands tighten on the handle of her briefcase.

“No Koo, I’ll be alright.”

"Love you! You've got this!" Jin levels a look at Tae over his sunglasses, "kill 'em, sweetheart." The car pulls away, and Tae is left standing there alone.

Some first steps are all yours.

Well, mostly all hers. She has no idea that You're down the block with Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi. Hiding out in a very, very fast and very, very expensive rental car with tinted windows and a sound system that could make Beethoven shudder.

You couldn't risk her recognizing your and Hobi's car, too red not to stick out. But you also couldn't let her do this completely alone- or at least an hour away from some possibly needed support.

You lean over the center console with binoculars, Yoongi in the driver's seat and Jimin in the passenger's side, swatting at your arm to see.

"Not a word of this to Tae," he'd made you promise. You'd mimed zipping up your mouth and thrown away the key, which Hobi had mocked, caught, and pretended to swallow. He's in the backseat with you, just along for the ride and the playlist that haunts you now. The base is thumping louder than usual because none of you are worried about blowing the speakers.

When you don't have the binoculars, you can hardly see Tae. Hardly more than a glimmer of pink on the sidewalk. Pink blazer, pink pants, pink shoes with red bottoms. Her brand new and very expensive Prada briefcase on one arm that you and Jimin might have splurged on for the occasion, hanging limply by her side.

You do love spoiling your girl.

You watch Tae through binoculars as she looks up at the big building, and then heads inside. "Hang on, I just want to make sure she's-" Jimin snatches the binoculars from you.

"She looks like she's going to throw up." He's already reaching for the door handle, but your mate has the good sense to hit the lock before he can get out. "Open the door, Yoongi,"

"Jimin, we agreed-" He tries to roll down the window, no doubt intending on climbing out of it, but finds his method of ingress also locked. Stalwart.

"Did you put the child lock on me?"

You snort, half-fighting with him to get the binoculars for a second. "You want a booster seat too?"

"Jimin, just think for a moment, if she sees you, she'll-" whatever Yoongi might have said gets interrupted by a sharp rap on your window. He rolls it down to reveal a very, very cross-looking Namjoon. A badge on his lapel that reads 'Dr.Kim' flashes in the midday sun. Arms folded, tapping his foot against the cobblestone. It’s so strange to see him in his doctor's coat and not his holey pajamas.

“Joonie!” Yoongi’s ear-to-ear grin does little to impress him.

The pack alpha’s glare does not decrease in intensity. Dragon eyes are narrowing at Jimin and Yoongi in the front seat. Hobi cowers, hiding behind the tinted window and patent leather of the driver's side. You too- shrink into the shadows, hoping to be undiscovered. “What are you doing here? I thought we talked about this.”

“Just hanging out." "I could ask you the same thing.”

“The hospital’s around the corner. I’m getting coffee.”

You reach around the console again. “Oh can you get me some? And a pastry!” Namjoon’s stare has your excitement dimming. Crouched behind Yoongi’s seat, Hobi stifles his laughter by biting on his knuckle. You shrink into the shadows in the backseat.

“Don’t think I don’t see you too pup.”

“Shit,” Hobi curses, leaning around the seat. “Sorry Joon.”

“We just had a discussion about boundaries guys.”

“I know but-”

A blue mini-coop pulls up beside you, and Jimin bypasses Namjoon and Yoongi’s stare down to peer at Jin in the front of his car. “How was she- did she seem nervous; did she have her phone on- did she-”

Jin's word cut off Jimin's anxiety at the root. “Everything went perfectly. Like I said it would.”

Jungkook gets out of the car, pecks a delirious-looking Namjoon on the cheek before sliding into the backseat with you and Hobi, “scoot over,”

“Why did nobody tell me you were doing a stakeout?”

“It’s not like we planned this,” Jin says. "we just all had the same idea."

Your car goes silent. And Namjoon leans against the window. “Okay well, I didn’t make the car reservation until Tae set the date.”

“Where did you even keep this thing?”

“At the flower shop.”

“Guys-”

Jin beeps his car, leveling Namjoon with a look over his sunglasses, cutting off the pack alpha’s reprimand. “Namjoon, just get in the god damn car before she spots us.”

By the time you look back at the front of the building, Tae has already disappeared inside.

Later at home, you unbutton her blazer for her, going button by button as you listen to her vent. You’re very convincing in your disguise, dressed in matching pj’s with Jimin. You'd mutually agreed not to tell her about your presence, even Namjoon.

It's just a white lie, and hardly the most damaging one you've ever agreed upon.

(The pack alpha sends you glares every few minutes when you meet his eyes, and you know everyone has a punishment in their future).

The pack is a flurry of movement around Tae, reclining on the couch. Jimin helps her take off her shoes, red bottoms glimmering as she talks. Squeezing her arches soothingly as her anxiety reaches a fever pitch.

Her diamond earrings are carefully unbuttoned by Yoongi. Makeup wipes are dished out by Jungkook, handed off to Jin who takes off her makeup gently, given the hour. Tae doesn't have to lift a finger while she gives her retelling of the day, the intimidating meeting with the kind head editor and lead acquisitions manager- whatever that is.

You don't have to lift a finger either, her own personal stress ball or weighted blanket. Too necessary to Tae's comfort, arms wrapped around her waist. Cheek squished against her pink shirt, linen and pretty. You'll have to remember to add it to the nest later.

“-And they want me to go through the whole thing in like a month, and I don’t know how that timeline makes sense.” Her lower lip wobbles, tears threatening at her lash line. “I could work for like 24 hours a day and still I wouldn’t be able to change everything they want me to change and that’s not even to mention the second half.”

"Did you ask for more time?"

She nods, "They wouldn't give it to me."

Jimin stands from her side. “Tell me their names.”

You tug at his sleeve, “Jiminie, save the murder for later.”

Yoongi’s shoulders fall, stressed, “Jesus Christ guys-”

You roll your eyes, “I said later, not never.”

"You signed the contract?" Jin asks, not distracted by you two, instead combing out the tangles in her curls delicately while guiding a glass of lemon water to her lips.

"No! Worse!" Tae bends to reach for her bag and upends the whole thing, hair wry out of her clips. An inch-thick packet of papers falls out along with a MAC lipstick, a YSL one, and a hairbrush. As well as two different wallets- Hers and Jimin’s. "They told me to sign it and hand it in with the final draft."

Her lower lip wobbles, and you've never smelled her scent more peppery (well, maybe the night she came out, but-). Tae sniffles. "I'm not sure it matters. They want so much from me and I know I can’t give them what they want." Tae hates this, to get here all this way and then fail at the final step.

Jin snatches it from the floor and steals the glasses off of Namjoon's head, scanning them quickly. The pack waits with bated breath, but Jin has hardly looked at it for more than a minute before he flips to the last page, scoffs, and promptly throws it into the nearby chair. Several pages Fling loose. "Tell them you won't sign it till the deadline."

"Jinnie-"

Jin folds his arms across his chest. "This isn't good enough. I can get you double."

“Jinnie-”

Jin leans forward to cup Tae's jaw in his hand, kissing her nose and then her mouth. “Don’t doubt me.”

Yoongi smiles. "You're learning a lot from this whole model thing."

Jimin flushes, starts to say something, but Jin just raises an eyebrow at him, "You should see the deal I got you for your next makeup campaign. My pups are worth a premium."

"Yeah, Minnie's expensive," Jungkook teases. 

Jin puts his hand on Tae's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I already professionally manage one of my pups, What’s one more?"

Tae looks like she's about to be sick. Realizing dreams goes a whole lot differently than you think it will. This feels dreadful. Tae wishes she'd never sent anyone anything. "Jinnie-"

You try instead. cupping her cheek and turning her face to look at you. Leaning your chin on her shoulder, peering up at her in a way you know is a little seductive and distracting. But given the circumstances, it can hardly hurt. "Tae, you're an amazing writer. You can do this; I know you can."

She shakes her head out of your hand. "No one can edit 300,000 words in a month, that’s like- almost physically impossible for one person."

Hoseok snorts, standing up from the couch. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got 7 people who love you and know you really fucking well then. Otherwise, you'd be shit out of luck.”

Tae blinks up at him, and Hobi pats your knee on the way past you, your eyelashes flutter, and you resettle your arms around Tae's waist. Threading your fingers through the buttons of her button-down to pet at her stomach.

Tae's tone is a little incredulous. “I can’t teach you how to edit, not like me. You don't know me this way.”

There's a moment of quiet where Hobi looks at her, and the pack take it in.

“Then let us. let us know you this way. You could try and we might not get it right at first. Think of it as a head start. Tae, you know what you like and what you want, just show us."

Tae thinks of that day so long ago, right after she came out. she remembers watching you and Hobi at the beach together. Getting funnel cake and calling Hobi out on his fondness for you that he didn't want to address. It feels good in a hurtful way, what he's saying isn't wrong. Tae just wasn't ready for it. Maybe like when Yoongi calls you out on your self-deprecation or when Jin scolds Namjoon for being too esoteric. Hobi stares, and Tae listens.

After a moment he continues. "What other time are you going to be able to show 7 different people and get their take on things while you can still change it?”

~-~

Love makes up for a whole lot. Skill and otherwise. Tae thinks as she watches the 7 of you dig into her story.

She's kept it closer to her chest than her fucking implants over the past year or so, and watching you all read it feels intimate in a way that's sort of awful, sort of amazing. Maybe being dissected would feel less vulnerable.

She should have started this sooner,. Should have let the pack read months ago. It’s a pretty intimate look at her soul, her wants and desires, her dreams. The way that she thinks and her own internal monologue and this one too closely intertwined to differentiate the two. The story is half a diary and half a promise. Somewhere between a testimonial and a daydream.

None of you are readers, but that doesn’t matter.

It starts a bit like this: food and drink piled on the kitchen table. Paper after paper and chapter after chapter. Tae's whole collection of glittery gel pens poured out onto the table. Blue for Namjoon, purple for Jungkook, pink for Jin, and so on. Panic and congratulations call for champagne. You and Yoongi share a singular glass. Pleasantly buzzed by the time you're even halfway through.

You each start with a chapter and work your way through it line by line. Making notes of what's not clear and what is. What works and what doesn’t. Halfway through, Jin complains that the main love interest is too much like Hoseok for him not to fall in love with him with every wry line. Tae admits, "Yeah I actually did use things Hobi has said for some of the dialogue. Jungkook too."

Surprisingly, the people who are the best at editing are Hobi and Yoongi. Namjoon makes it sound a little too clinical, and Jungkook's edits can border on nonsensical (Although occasionally he pulls a line out of his ass that even Tae's jealous of). Jimin and Jin are better at spotting typos than any of them. But with Hobi and Yoongi, Tae reads through their chapters and finds very little wrong with their additions and changes.

When Tae confesses this, Hobi just grins and kicks back in his chair and flicks the papers back and forth between his hands. "I’d tell you I told you so, but judging from how much you call Jack a pretentious prick in this- you already know. I’m totally going to make a playlist for this-”

Yoongi bumps shoulders with him, sitting next to each other in two chairs with you sprawled across both of their laps, a little drunk, a little ridiculous. “Gonna put mambo number 5 over the fight scenes, huh?”

“Or Naked in Manhattan." You giggle and sneak sips of his champagne (is it really sneaking if he hands you his glass after every sip?) "Fuck I totally want to put pink pony club on."

"Do it lady." Yoongi says.

Hobi leans back, looking a bit in love. You’re unaware of it. Kicking your feet, jerking when Yoongi tickles your ankle. "That’s like ugh- my favorite song of the day."

Jungkook snorts. "More like your favorite song of the month. You made me play it three times during kickboxing."

"Hey! Be nice- it reminds me of Tae." Tae flushes and promptly hides her face with a sheet of her book, littered with check marks from pink glittery gel pen edits. Namjoon reaches over and bops you with his pen.

"After! Play naked in Manhattan because that’s actually my favorite song." The pack gives you control of the playlist. Namjoon gets up obediently to refill everyone's glasses.

Hobi leans into your personal space, fingers itching up your ankle. Sneaking under the loose pants of your pajamas. Yoongi’s hands hover on your waist. Ticking from rib to rib to an imaginary beat. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

Yoongi all but growls into your ear, smile pressed to your cheek. “I love it when you guys flirt using music it’s like- totally fucking hot.”

“Guys!” The three of you look up. The whole pack is watching the three of you, but you make no move to untangle yourself. And when you lean back, you can feel the warmth of Yoongi’s chest and it jiggle as he laughs against your spine.

Everything here feels so nice, taking away Tae's stress, the sight of Jungkook half-falling asleep at the table. Jimin scans the chapters and reaches the end too quickly, Namjoon with his hair all messy and pushed up, talking animatedly about the actual proposed biology of the fantastical creatures that Tae writes about. Everything feels so good living here. Loving here. Being here for her.

“We’re serious! It’s like totally cinematic!”

~-~

Whatever it was, whatever change the mating has had on Jin and Namjoon, the bulk result is that they’ve both gotten more protective and even more possessive. They’re calmer about it- sure. But with each other to feed off, you hardly have any room for argument. All they have to do is look at each other to be on the same page now. The pups try to band together sometimes, but Jin and Namjoon are good pack omega and alpha.

They rarely let anything slip through the cracks.

So when you’d initially floated the idea of getting yourself a car to make the almost 40-minute drive to and from school every day, it had been all but immediately caboshed. Namjoon was the first to voice his misgivings. Looking nervously between Jin and Yoongi as you outlined what you'd need over breakfast. “It's all the way into the city, it's like even farther than the hospital.”

"I can do it! And if I can't, there's always the train.”

“That’s romantic.” Tae had swooned, Jin had scoffed. “What it is is dangerous. Especially after lab.”

"When does that end again?" Namjoon asks.

"Not until 8," Yoongi recites from memory. "On the train, you probably won't be home until ten."  

“But that way I can study!" You’re a bit in love with the train. Yoongi had taken you on a date not too long ago, into the city to a little food tour from bakery to bakery. You'd taken the train then and met up with Namjoon near the hospital and gone home together the quick way by car. But you'd had your face pressed to the window the whole time, pointing out the street art and the little glimpses between the windows. You'd fallen asleep on his shoulder on the way home.

But now, Yoongi is panicking a little. Thinking of if that happened when you were alone. All it would take is a missed stop, a low phone battery, and one bad person with an agenda. Sure nothing might happen- but is it really worth the risk?

Even Jimin raises his eyebrows, “The train is dangerous at night, and have you ever driven into the city on your own before?”

“No, but I can work up to it!” Even Jungkook had tilted his head to the side, unsure. Exchanging glances with the whole pack while you'd prattled on to Tae, whose smile was just about ready to slip off her face as you talk about a car. Something safe, something small. And wouldn't getting matching cars with Seokjinie be so cute?

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hobi who had first volunteered. “You already have a car, our car. I can drive you every morning. What time would we have to leave by? 7:30? That way I can be back for my shift by 9.”

“It would be a lot of miles to put on the car, and a lot of time for you.”

Hobi had just looked at you over a bite of breakfast. Eyebrows raised, headphones already looped around his neck. His look was impassive and sharp, and left no room up for debate. “Then put them on the car, I don’t mind.” (He got a pat on the knee for that one from Namjoon.)

As much as the pack hates to admit it, the idea of you not being here in the house at all hours of the day…It feels off. Feels new in a bad way.

They know it's what you want and a good, necessary change for you, but they’ve never known life at the house without you and Yoongi puttering about at all hours of the day. Without having someone to come home to. The constant soothing presence of an omega in the nest is something they’re reluctant to let go of…but maybe now that Jin is also home always and Tae is too- things will be easier.

Yoongi won’t have you as his little shadow anymore. He won’t have you hovering by his elbow at 11 for lunch or 3 for a snack. There will be no one waiting in the window seat when they come home, or the smell of baking things when Jimin returns from his schedule.

But baking is your passion. This has slowly gone from a dream you’re very scared to think of, to something you want desperately. The pack will help you achieve this goal, with the caveat that they keep you very carefully safe, mentally and physically, within the confines of what they deem appropriate.

This is a real future for you; you deserve more than just life as a nestmate. You want this future for yourself, too. The pack will do anything to give it to you. Anything.

Except letting you drive on your own.

This just means that you get to spend more time together with Hobi. Fiddling with Hobi's stereo and enjoying your morning coffee (and maybe studying in the front seat) and just being quiet together, commuting. Getting breakfast sandwiches when you have time and nodding off against the window when you stay up too late the night before, with Jungkook watching videos, or fucking and studying. Sometimes, at the same time, if Namjoon is feeling particularly motivated.

Or eating too many of the treats and sweets that you make in class and bring home for taste tests, leaving the floor of Hobi's car covered with crumbs from croissants, certainly spoiling your dinner. Exposing yourself to a gentle punishment and Namjoon and Jin's firm hands. Even Jungkook's one time when you ate all of something that he was looking forward to trying, when you do your unit on dietary restrictions.

You can imagine all of it already. So after a bit of fussing, you agree. It's scary, but somehow you can’t wait.  

~-~

Everything is sort of a blur after that. Fall starts, and you only have a few short weeks until your program begins. The pack drags you out for back-to-school shopping. textbooks and chefs knives. You pick up a coat and a chef's hat. And Jin demands that they get it embroidered with your initials just cuz.

It’s just culinary school. It’s not anything too difficult- but you’d looked over classes, attended a virtual meeting with your counselor from the kitchen table to pick and choose. Namjoon and Jin grip your hands under the table. Yoongi lingered close by even though Jin dominated the conversation. You tolerated it very, very well as they handle most of it for you. Getting just a little bit anxious by the end of it. And after, Tae pinched your cheeks and called you brave.

You've been hearing that word a lot recently. Brave brave brave. Being brave doesn't mean not being scared, doesn't mean not being anxious. It's what you do with your fear that counts.

(When she thinks about how far you've come, how much you've blossomed over the past few months, she gets a little misty-eyed. Sometimes she and Yoongi share looks over your head, or Tae sees him turning away, blinking rapidly, and taking a deep breath. The pack has been awfully careful with him these last few weeks. But Tae knows Yoongi can't help it. For all his stoicism, he really is so soft for you it hurts. Maybe it would be easier if the rest of them weren't equally as proud and overemotional over this whole thing.)

Your counselor had only been a little bit chagrined by the fact that Jin and Namjoon had done most of the talking during your meetings. “We get a lot of pack applicants.” She’d said after requesting a verbal 'yes' from you and not your pack omega.

But still, she'd been remarkably tolerant of Jin's many, many questions about the student body, tutoring centers, and other resources you’d have access to should you need them. His mating mark is plain and pink and new against his throat.

After that, your tuition is paid, and all too soon you count down to your first day. The pack takes you to tour the campus so that you’ll know how to get to all your classes before your first day. It’s about 10 minutes farther than Namjoon’s hospital, but he still says that he could drive you in once or twice a week, especially in your early days.

On your first day, Yoongi and Hoseok drive you. Yoongi is still in his pj’s in the back seat, letting you take the front. Your new school bag is packed with lunch, pretty Moleskine notebooks, and gel pens. All from Tae, who also did your hair and makeup today. Bound behind your head in two crisscrossing, pretty-looking Dutch braids to keep it out of your face.

Hoseok puts the car in park. And it’s almost audible the way that you hold your breath and try not to flinch at the sound. “We’ll pick you up at three. After your chopping class.”

“Knife skills. An hour and a half.” Yoongi recites from the back seat. You don’t know that the whole pack has memorized your schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays are your long days, Friday are your easy ones. Basics of French sauces and Cooking chemistry on Thursday and Tuesday.

Hoseok’s car is already getting more than a few backward glances from other students. Parked out front in a 15-minute parking zone meant only for drop off. The other students of the culinary school are dressed identically to you in double-breasted black button-down chef's coats. Buttoned to the collar. A glittery necklace from Jimin around your neck.

You’re going to stand out- Hoseok knows this because you could never be ordinary. He sort of hopes that your classmates will treat you well. That you'll make friends and find a place and a reason of your own here.

Hoseok looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Heart giving a lonely, grateful pang. “Don’t stab anyone, that’s more of a second week thing.”

It has the desired effect, you snort. “And so last year.” Your scent eases away from being quite so wet with anxiety, and Hoseok feels himself smile despite the tense atmosphere of the car.  

Yoongi looks at you in the mirror. “Do you want me to walk you to your first class?”

“If we both walk her the car will definitely get towed.”

“That’s why I said I’ll walk her. You can stay with your boring flashy car.”

“Oh, absolutely not- you’ll have to rock paper scissors me for that.”

You swallow, and both Hoseok and Yoongi stop their bickering to pay attention to you. “It’s alright, I know where it is.”

You don’t open the car door yet, nervous, knees jumping up and down, hand hovering on the door handle. Yoongi pulls himself around the front seat. Hoseok squeezes your knees and says, "Alright. You have 5 minutes to vent."

The words burst from you without your say so, the same anxiety jackrabbiting its way outside of your heart and head, bouncing around with nowhere to go. “What if I hate it? what if I don’t like it?- what if I paid all this tuition and made all this fuss and it’s for nothing? What if-” you continue, and Hoseok and Yoongi let you vent until it's clear you're done.

Tears are beading in your eyes, you turn and look towards the window to hide them, you don’t want to cry, because Tae did your makeup this morning, and you don’t want to mess it up.

Your makeup is something she doesn’t always have time to do anymore, between meetings with her editor and revisions of this and that chapter. Her negotiations with Jin and the publishing company are sort of ongoing, and there's already talk about Hoseok cutting back his hours at the flower shop just to help Jin with all the new paperwork. They split their time evenly between Jimin and Tae.

“Hey.” Hobi's voice is soft, “look at me.”

You do, and he’s smiling that same gentle smile as always as he cups your cheek rubs your tears away with a thumb. You sniffle. From the back seat Yoongi says, “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Hobi looks over at you, voice very serious. “If you hate it, you can call us and we’ll pick you up. No questions asked. We won't say anything and we don't have to talk about it at all." No one, not even Jin and Namjoon. I'll protect you. Hoseok promises to himself. "If you decide this isn’t a path you want to go on, you can stop at any time. This week or next week or six semesters from now.”

You go quiet for a second and then correct him. “It’s only a four-semester program.”

Yoongi nods, and Hoseok throws his hands up, “Well then, whatever! what I’m saying is you can do what you want and we’ll support you.”

You have 5 more minutes to make the two-minute walk before you’ll be late. You look to Hobi. Teeth worrying away at your lower lip. Yoongi chimes in. “It’s easier to get off a train after one missed stop than five. If you hate it, then fuck it. We’ve got you.”

“Promise? You’re not gonna be mad if I back out?”

“No. Not at all.” Yoongi means it, but doesn’t elaborate.

Hoseok holds out his pinky finger, the red tattoo around it just a little more faded than when you'd gotten it together. You loop it with yours, and for a moment, it looks like it's wrapped around both your fingers. "Promise." 

“Okay.” “Okay.” Your hand is on the door.

“I’m going to get out of the car now.”

“Okay,” “good luck,” “we love you.” “Text us if you get even a little bit anxious.”

You shut the door and wave to them as you start to walk away. Yoongi rolls down the window. "Wait! First day of school photo!" You turn around and flash a peace sign as Yoongi leans half out the window and takes a picture. Another one for his wall of photos. You're laughing as you turn and walk away. Shoes squeaking on the smooth concrete. Red Prada backpack that Jimin and Tae got you as a first day of school present, thwacking stiff against your spine as you hurry. Hobi laughs. He’ll tease you about that tomorrow.

Yoongi watches you go, braids swinging behind your head. They watch you glance up anxiously at a pair of second semester students (distinguished by their chefs coats, maroon instead of black) You let them go in front of you on the sidewalk, turning back to them and waving. Hoseok lifts his hand, although he’s sure you can’t really see it through the window tint, at least you can see Yoongi giving you a double thumbs up in the back.

The interior of the car is silent until Yoongi and Hoseok watch you go inside the building. Hoseok doesn't put the car in drive. Hands folded over the steering wheel, feeling something in his chest tighten as he watches you walk away. You glance back just once before you go inside. Like you're making sure they're still there.

“We’re gonna wait here until she gets out of class? Right?”

Yoongi scoffs, stretching his arms out behind his head, but Hoseok can tell he’s anxious as a live wire. After a second thought he climbs over the center console into the front seat.

“Of course we fucking are.”

They’ve got nowhere better to be. Hobi and Yoongi stay parked right there in the loop for as long as they can, checking their phones every few minutes just in case. Until security comes over and hassles them.