#Pack dynamics

[frownyalfred]

When Jason is about to do something dangerous and stupid and Roy gives a little annoyed growl but holds himself back from arguing because he knows Jason can take care of himself and he doesn’t want to be Too much, lex turning to Jason and just casually saying “see, even your alpha doesn’t agree with this. And yet he’s being so reasonable. You don’t want to upset him by getting hurt again, right?” And Jason getting annoyed but giving up because lex is RIGHT and Roy is RIGHT.

Roy jumping in front of Jason and growling to defend him from the slightest moment of danger at a gala or in public and immediately feeling like a shameful idiot for acting on that, and once the situation is handled he gets a few quick scents from the rest of the pack and lots of little “great job, alpha. You did good, protecting Jay like that” praises reminding him that that protective instinct is a GOOD thing.

Roy in his pre-rut when he’s at the manor for it for the first time (maybe the first or second time Jay and Roy are spending a rut of his together at all) and hes huffy and possessive and trying to keep it together and not be snappy and not tru to drag Jason back to the nest from the cave because they’re on an important cave, and Jay has been overworked lately and he doesn’t want to add on to more stress but he’s so overwhelmed and he WANTS JAY IN THE NEST and suddenly Clark just super speed carries a grumbly jay into the nest like “spend time with ur alpha and sleep for a few hours before me and ur carrier take your batcave privelages away” and Jason is able to give in to being benched for a few hours because his alpha needs him.

Just- in those first months or year where Roy isn’t ready or able to ask for things or be too pushy and protective with Jay, the older pack members just knowing exactly where to step in and push the two of them together into figuring things out. Because yeah, Jay is trying and he’s really good and attentive with Roy, but he’s also not used to the idea of an alpha who ISNT pushy and demanding, so he sometimes doesnt notice Roy is wanting something if he doesn’t ask for it. They’re working on it. 💜💜

Awww, Jason in pre-heat and Roy in pre-rut are probably two of the angstiest guys ever, huh? They've both got trauma and they're just pacing around the Manor in a bad mood pretending everything is fine.

I love the idea of Jason being like "why aren't you growling when you don't like something???" he's baffled when Roy just sits there and swallows it down.

[deikshen]

Shen Yuan was a beta all his life so then, now, being the omega Shen Qingqiu who can no longer suppress his secondary gender by Without-a-cure, needs to learn to be an Omega.

The information in the books is damn unclear and it would not be right to go ask for help from disciples or brothels, so he just... Well, he knows that Shang Qinghua is a spy for the demons, and he knows that Mobei Jun is an Omega for his meta knowledge. So he decides to go and threaten Shang Qinghua's ass with exposing him with the other Peak Lords for treason unless he allows him to have private meetings with Mobei Jun.

(At some point, they both reveal themselves as transmigrants? Yes. But not at the beginning for more drama lol Shang Qinghua racking his brains over what the hell Shen Qingqiu the scum villain and HIS KING will talk about in private- )

So, in private meetings with Mobei Jun, Shen Qingqiu humiliates himself with a half-truth: he tells him that I had never experienced anything like omega (after all, the entire CQMS thinks Shen Qingqiu is a beta), and now with Without-a-cure he has stopped taking his suppressants because the damage they were doing to his health, so right now he doesn't know how to do omega basic things like nest, purr, scent, pack behavior...

Mobei Jun agrees to teach him all those omega things; in exchange, Shen Qingqiu will give him more information and those things that Shang Qinghua doesn't have access to, since Shen Qingqiu is, well, Peak Lord of the second most important peak. They make a half-hearted and reluctant agreement, but they are on the same page.

And Mobei Jun teaches him. He teaches him how to fix a nest and the different ways he can use it. How apply blankets properly for softness, or comfort, or space, depends on what suits him. Teaches him to scent with the necessary amount of pheromones on people, objects, pack gifts, puppy gifts- It is a different level for each situation, and it is very necessary that it be respected, because otherwise it could give the wrong message!!

It also teaches purring, different growls, the type of reactions these sounds would have in Alphas or other Omegas. Also what kind of fabrics or robes are more comfortable to wear closer to the heat, what herbs to avoid, what kinds of things might not help him, what types of foods to stock up on for those occasions.

There is a lot of monosyllabic talk, a lot of directions and teachings, and Mobei Jun is not really the type to talk a lot, but neither is Shen Qingqiu, so unless necessary, they won't say much that is not so very important. They drink tea (iced) and they always end their secret meetings by scenting their wrists. It's a habit. Mobei Jun's omega scent is clear like ginger-mint and somewhat spicy, but it doesn't smell demonic itself, then it can go unnoticed.

The change in Shen Qingqiu's Omega behavior is noticeable, not only among the now very spoiled puppy disciples, but among the Peak Lords. Mu Qingfang is glad that Shen Qingqiu is finally accepting being part of the pack, scenting them, giving them scented gifts for their own common spaces. Alphas and betas do not necessarily nest, but in their homes they often have things with the aromas of their packs, giving shape to their home.

There is only one notable difference. Mobei Jun, of course, has taught his omega knowledge biased by his demonic family teaching. So, Shen Qingqiu finds himself... biting.

He bites his disciples' cheeks, he bites their little hands when he comes to scent them. It is easier to give them little bites, so they will only laugh or blush.

He bites Liu Qingge's cheek, one day the Alpha gets really close to him sniffing the clear scent of Mobei Jun on him, asking who is. In defense of Shen Qingqiu, he became nervous!!! And Liu Qingge stepped away as if he had been set on fire, walking away like a penguin.

Randomly bites Mu Qingfang's hands when he is checking him out by Without-a-cure, little bites on his fingers, on his knuckles. Mu Qingfang blushes, steps back, and quickly notes down the reactions. Pff. As if it wasn't normal for Omegas to bite and lick their packs!! Now they will tell that Omegas should not court their Alphas by proving they can kill them in a fight only to decide not to! Of course Binghe's harem didn't work like that, but those were female Omegas! He was a male Omega, that would make the difference, wouldn't it?

So, just, Shen Qingqiu is there, gifting his packs with things with his scent, purring when some Alpha around him is stressed, biting hands, wrists, cheeks. He shamelessly sits close to anyone and drenches them with his scent. He's much more tactile with everyone. He makes comfortable public-nesting spaces in gardens where he invites his youngest disciples (and Binghe, because how could he deprive Binghe of those experiences?! The poor boy is always hungry for affection, hugs, pats and bites more than any other disciple) to snuggle with him while purring and playing some music, just as Mobei Jun had explained that Omegas did with their pups so they could relax after long days-

(The other Peak Lords don't know if Shen Qingqiu has gone mad or is trying to court them all. They also don't want to risk asking and ruining whatever's going on.)

(Amidst all this, and instinctively, both Mobei Jun and Shen Qingqiu begin to see and feel like a pack. They give each other scented blankets, their scents are in their respective nests. There are new jewels among Shen Qingqiu's hair accessories, and new necklaces hanging over Mobei Jun's open necklines. They are a pack. Family of some strange and accidentally acquired kind. Even Shen Qingqiu relaxes in Mobei Jun's nest once while waiting for him due to an urgency among the rebellious demons - which almost causes Shang Qinghua to almost have a qi deviation when he sees him, comfortable in his king's nest just reading.)

(At some point, Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu reveal themselves to be transmigrants- and Shang Qinghua is laughing his fucking shit off, because now he has the explanation of everything, and he's definitely not going to tell him that the normal omega mode of demons is the omega-courtship-family mode of humans. Nope. He'll let Cucumber-bro figure it out for himself.)

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I’m looking for a fix where Sterek and the pack are at an event (a werewolf convention?) and everyone is afraid of him. It’s from the POV of other packs and I think stiles punches a waiter of something. Thanks in advance!

@iwishsherlockisatimelord found this one!

The Hale Pack by LessonsFromMoths

(1/1 I 3,914 I General I Sterek)

Per Stiles’s instructions, the Hale pack is tasked with building their web of allies at a west coast pack convention. Which is...fun, right? As their first convention, they’re technically making their debut as a pack. It’s only been, what, seven years? This is long overdue.

Aka, The Hale Pack has a reputation. Told from outsiders’ points of view.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?

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

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 11,223

Work count for Story: 112,695

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

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.  With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to find ways to throw on the breaks. You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of. 

What would the rest of the pack think? Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook had already scented me in bed, as bad as that sounds, but why did getting scented by the Prime Alpha in the back of a car sound so much more… intimate? It's like something that he should be doing with his bonded mate, not you.

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

Then again, you could be making this up and reading into things too much. That must be what is happening, right? The after-effects of being tangoed with by Lee Minho… you were still starstruck, and emotions were running high. You did that in high school, letting your emotions get the better of you, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has bonded mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them. 

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest.

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself. 

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha, Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scent you, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you… in a car. 

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman! Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance.

This is Namjoon’s second chance.

You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down. You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason. 

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone. 

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones. 

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 

You are in a car, for god’s sake. 

As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.

Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back. 

“Y/n.”

Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need. 

Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him. 

The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.

“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want to scent but are scared of me.”

At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor till now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos. 

“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.” 

While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation as he asks, “What of?”

“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise. 

“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”

Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha. 

“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time. 

“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need,” you try to clarify.

Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout. You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder. 

“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna of my pack, I typically scent the others.”

“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.

“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark. 

Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present. 

Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix. 

He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond as he says, “Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”

“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”

His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.

“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.

Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck. 

Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”

“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Addthreat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out. 

Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”

“Bobcat, try tonight,” says Alpha Joon, his voice dripping with a possessive tone.

Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall. 

“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.

“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah… must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”

This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything. 

Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw. 

“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.

“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.

Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.

“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve. 

Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”

His eyes are still set on your form, and he says, “Cover.”

“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”

The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little. 

He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him—the dominant leader versus the submissive lover.

Maybe he can be both?

“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”

“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”

Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.

“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him. 

His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happens.”

It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing. There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did. 

You will lose yourself and not in a good way. 

What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?

Control it. Take the reins and drive the motions. Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that? 

Can you control a Prime Alpha?

“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts. 

“Sorry, Alpha,” you quickly say.

Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans. 

“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a more pungent tang of lemon. 

“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.

Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape, then angle your body toward him and settle your gaze on him, “Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”

Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck. 

He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going. Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.

Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat hybrid held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.

“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face. 

“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”

You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha. 

Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him. 

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more. 

“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, which changes things.”

Alpha Joon's face is full of confusion as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul. 

The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat hybrid. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.

“Don’t move,” you instruct him.

“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face. 

Shifting to an angle facing you away from him, a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.  

Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching. You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist resting against the seat and guides it to your stomach. 

Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now. Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control. 

It feels nerve-racking but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you? 

You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that. 

There is nothing wrong with you. 

Nada.

You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive younger hybrid men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile. They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily. That’s all.

“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”

“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you. Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place. 

“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin. 

Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee. Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.

Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door. 

“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chide softly.

“Sorry, Luna,” the trapped Alpha says. “No more. I will follow.”

“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?” you ask to get the extra reassurance that you are again back in some semblance of control.

“Yes, Luna,” agrees the wolf hybrid.

Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist. You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours. 

Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin. 

Your body automatically responds with a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years. 

Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier. 

You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”

In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”

“Yes,” you say, a bit breathier than you would have wanted.

Keeping at the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg, and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze. 

You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private. 

However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla. If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.

Buzz Buzz

A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here. However, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”

“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.

Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.

Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”

Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha. 

He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”

“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait. Why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”

“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon, not once looking at you during his explanation. 

He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him… entirely… but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some others do, but it is planned right now.

“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.

He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side. 

“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset. He nods; his curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension. 

“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.” 

He shakes his head, starting to deny that any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.  You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.

You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”

Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you. For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls. 

Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every micro-expression on your profile.

It was like your brain went offline the second you became physically connected. Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your front pressed with his, making every breath like a soft caress. 

The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feel like nothing you have felt before. 

Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with the control now, is letting go and basking in the moment.  It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.

A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you. 

Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”

Those simple words feel like a world of promises. 

Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck. 

His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief. 

Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this. 

“Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.

THUD

Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”

It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears. 

Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door. Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.

His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.

“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.

“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say. Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench, and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.” 

Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it. 

For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?

The packhouse is silent.

You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now. With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom, taking off your heels along the way and leaving them wherever they land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least. 

Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks. There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin. 

He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors. 

It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it. 

You already have ruined enough tonight. 

Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.

Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were. 

You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha. 

It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else. 

Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there. 

Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you. 

“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.

“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says. 

Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep team for events and such.”

“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.

“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know he was there and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.

A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue. 

This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone, get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”

Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.

“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.

“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen. 

Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”

Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean to return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”

“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’” he said, using air quotes. “So, she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”

“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.

Bouncing on his feet, Jungkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”

A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs. 

Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to prevent anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl. 

“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook. 

Jungkook had heard your restlessness the first night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now the Alpha responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met. 

With a deep growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate. 

“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation. 

The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations. The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned. 

After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?

“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears drooping low with sadness. 

Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.

“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”

Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”

Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”

“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”

Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines, “Buuut Hyung…”

“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible for the pack’s nest, and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.

“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think the nest could need more of to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.

Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the number of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge. 

“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.

“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha. 

Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.

It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.

All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.

Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat.  While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.

That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication that you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window. 

It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it inside the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night. 

However, when some time passed, and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side. 

Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breathing, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session. 

They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you. 

THUD

A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all his clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee. Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time. 

“Ow, that was my tail!” Taehyung screeches. 

THUMP

The front door rattles.

“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Taehyung, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae curses in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.

Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed. 

That wasn’t acceptable.

He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down. However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them until now? 

Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?

What does he do now?

With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you? 

Why had you just crumpled at the door? 

Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much? 

Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears. 

He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.

Should he knock now? 

What are you doing?

Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?

After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.

Where are you going?

What’s on the other side of the room?

At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door. 

He will fix this. 

He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.

“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.

You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”

Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier and warmer than a blow-up doll. " 

Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”

“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now, stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”

“Meemaw! No, let me out, please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.

“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.

That’s when the pain starts. 

You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.

“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.

“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having. 

Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide, unseeing of what is around you, causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger. It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face. 

“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket. 

“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”

Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit correctly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.

“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt. 

“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?” he asks.

“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come,” you answer. “They usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off, saying, “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through this without us helping you.”

He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan pack together. I already explained some to Namjoon, but…”

“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense, but can I ask you a question?”

Sitting up more and attempting to pull slightly out of his hold only gets you held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially. 

“What is your question?” you prompt.

You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”

“The nest?” you asked, still slightly out of it because of the nightmares.

Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”

Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.

Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, saying, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”

“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely,” you say looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.

“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house. 

It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.  

A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect, hold, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”

Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip. Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can question and unpack this new information.

“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.

“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each Bangtan packmate contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?” asked the red panda hybrid.

Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think…”

“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more, we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.

Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. Finally, you answer his question, saying, “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”

Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, I could see you saying that, but…”

“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”

You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.

“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness. 

You can say no, but is it improper to say no?

You can say no, but will you always say no?

You can say no, but did you want to say no? 

With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No. 

No, it's not improper to say no. 

No, you won’t always say no.

No, you want to say yes.

“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.

Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin carefully climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the nest wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you. 

Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.

Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand around yours and settles it between you. The breath you had unknowingly held releases, and you breathe in the pack again, this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent. 

“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin. 

You blush this time at the name Naekkeo. It clicks that Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline. 

“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything, and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look. 

You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out how to tell you enough but not too much.

“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning,” he reveals. “PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”

You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.

Swallowing, he says, “We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.

“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.

“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”

You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.

Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.

“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”

Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what that means during this time.

“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”

The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy. 

You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.

Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.

Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.

Maybe you don’t trust– you.

God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy. Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles. 

“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares and my ex and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”

The red panda lets out a quiet, pleased series of little barks, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.

It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact that you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest. 

“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.

Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face, drawing your eyes to his, prompting, “What do you need? You can ask me anything.”

“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”

“May I answer before you decide for me?” questions Jimin with a soft chuckle.

“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”

“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”

That paused you… Where did you want him?

Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin was trying to hold in his laughter.

Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options. 

“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and the protector-ish one between us, so maybe you stay between the door and me where you are now. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse, but on principle,” you stammer out.

“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”

Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”

Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets, but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and, in turn, warm you.”

Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, ‘I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.

“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. … you can be under them if you want,” you say timidly.

Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.

Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. So he complies, asking, “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”

Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window. 

“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind,” he says, a gentle reminder that you have a choice.

“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t do that much anymore,” you admit with sadness in your tone. “Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”

“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment. 

You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours, asking, “Is this okay?”

“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you. 

“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So, if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal. 

Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues. 

Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.

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[foulwitchknight]

Eddie and Steve are secretly courting so they use different code words to speak to each other when they’re around the pack. Dustin is the first to figure out that they are using code and becomes obsessed with finding out the reason why. He repeatedly asks Steve and Eddie about it, but they refuse to tell him which makes him want to know even more. Dustin ends up going over to the Harrington house one day planning on not leaving until Steve tells him the truth and he finds Steve and Eddie in a way he never wanted to.

[dominimoonbeam]

Anything

Another mugging fic!

David&Babe

tw: mugging, light angst, friendship developing, pack feels, pack dynamics

Anything

They hadn’t called him.

He’d gotten a call from the Department about an incident with one of his pack. He’d rolled his eyes at first and nodded, waiting for another report about some conflict Darlin or Chrissy had gotten into. It wasn’t that the others weren’t possibilities, it was just that Milo would have told him before the Department and Asher was out of town.

But then they dropped a name he’d never heard the Department mention to him before, not since he confirmed them being in his pack. His heart squeezed in his chest. Mugged? What the fuck did they mean mugged?

“Where are they?” He was already out the door, keys in hand.

“What?”

“Where?”

“Oh, um. It looks like they checked themself out of the hospital after making a statement to the unempowered authorities… It doesn’t look like they broke covert although the report does suggest the assailant was empowered…”

David felt sick, teeth too long and hand shaking around his keys. It was too much information at once, all tossed out carelessly by this desk clerk on the phone like none of it even mattered. Hospital. They had been taken to the hospital? What the fuck had happened? And who had mugged them? And why, in the hell, did this asshole think David gave any fucks about covert?

“How injured were they?” he interrupted. They’d been taken to a hospital, but they seem to have left on their own. David wanted to find comfort in that detail but he couldn’t, because he knew for a fact that Babe could and would push through pain and illness. They would sooner walk home with a broken leg than ask someone for help and risk being a burden.

Fuck! Now he was worried they were walking around on a broken leg.

“Um… It looks like they were treated for some cuts and scrapes. There’s a note about a possible concussion but the doctor didn’t seem overly worried.” And the empowered clerk on the phone didn’t sound worried either.

“Cuts?”

“And scrapes.”

David ground his teeth. “What makes you say the assailant was probably empowered?”

“Oh. There’s a note about them being bitten. They kept their story pretty vague though,” he sounded pleased and then huffed a smile. “The unempowered doctors gave them antibiotics in case of an infection.”

David hung up. He had to. If he didn’t, he would somehow kill this person through the phone. He immediately dialed another number, sliding into the driver’s seat of his truck. He put the phone on the dash and started the engine. It didn’t take Milo long to answer. “Boss?”

David hesitated just when he was about to speak. Babe was pack but they were human and they were so private.

“David?” Milo was louder, closer to his phone and focused with concern.

“I’m going to need your help, but I need you and Stealth to keep it quite.” It never even occurred to him to ask Milo to keep anything from his partner.

“There was an incident with Babe. I’m headed to their apartment now. I need you to find out everything you can from the department.” He took a turn and pulled into an alley beside their building, not caring if he was in a loading zone.

“Yeah. On it. Are they okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said without thinking and froze just as he was getting out of his truck.

He didn’t know.

His instincts raged, his wolf rolling under his skin. He didn’t know. A member of his pack—the most important person in the world to his best friend—and he had no idea.

“I’ll get back to you.” He hung up and used Asher’s spare key to get into the building. He couldn’t wait for the lift, taking the stairs two at a time. It wasn’t until he was in the hall that he knew something was wrong, something other than everything else wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it until he was at their apartment door.

He knocked, but already his stomach was twisting because his senses told him they weren’t there. Not only was their apartment empty, but their scent was so faint in the hallway that he knew they hadn’t been there in hours, probably not since they left for work that morning, definitely not with any cuts.

Cuts.

Bites.

His skin crawled and he wanted to growl and whine at the same time. He needed to see them. He needed to know how bad this was and do everything he could to fix it.

He scrolled his phone numbers and tried to call them. It went immediately to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he pushed the heel of his palm against his temple. Did they even have their phone? Where would they be?

He could have the pack find them. If they fanned out, they’d have them in no time. But then he would be making this moment, this day—their day—pack public. And he didn’t know yet if that was okay with them.

Asher hadn’t called him yet. Which meant, either they were on the phone with him right now, or he didn’t know yet.

David needed eyes on Babe. He needed to be able to tell Asher he was looking at them and that they were okay, or he would lose his mind.

He tried to think up places Babe would go on his way down the stairs.

Where would he go if he was unempowered and recently attacked by a vampire? They’d called it a mugging. Had the biter really robbed them? He flipped his keys against his palm but stopped one step toward his car. The hospital wasn’t far from here. Even on foot, even slowed by injury, they would have been there by now. So, if they didn’t go home, where did they go?

He called Angel to ask if Babe had come to their place. No. Angel had questions, but David promised to explain soon and they promised to call if they heard from Babe until then.

His phone rang almost as soon as he hung up.

Milo.

David answered.

“Are they okay?”

“I don’t know,” he ground out again. “They aren’t at their apartment.”

“What?”

David looked up and down the street. It was getting dark. “Was their phone stolen?”

“No. It was broken. They were on their way home from work, just got off the subway—”

David pivoted, looking in the direction of their stop.

“In their statement to the cops, they called their attacker a biter at first—said he cornered them before they could get out of the underground station and took their jacket and their bag. They didn’t have any money or cards on them so they must have left the hospital on foot. They can’t have gotten far.”

“Did they have their keys?” David started walking toward the subway station.

Milo was moving on his side too. “It didn’t sound like it.”

If David was in Babe’s shoes, he would just want to go home. He would want to be in his own space with the door locked. But if they didn’t have their keys, they couldn’t get home. They could, of course, call him. He had the spare. But he wasn’t sure they would even if they had their phone.

He descended the steps into the subway.

“I can start at the hospital and track them.”

“Are you at the hospital now?”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good.” David hung up just as the call would have cut out anyway. The air was colder underground, the lights yellow and the hallways echoing with the hum of a passing train. The afterwork crowd had thinned out and it wasn’t quite late enough for the party crowds.

He hopped the entrance and shivered when he inhaled their scent.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain how relieved he felt when he saw them standing there on the platform. They looked awful. Their pants were dirty and their shirt bloodstained and torn. He’d never seen them even mussed let alone a complete mess before. One hand clutched at the bandage around their wrist, squeezing as they frowned and stared, seeming to scrutinize the tracks.

For one horrific second he thought they were going to jump. They kept cutting glances up and down the tracks and shifting their weight where they stood at the edge.

“Babe.”

They jumped and spun around too fast.

He closed the distance and caught their hands in both of his to tug them that one step forward, away from the edge.

They stared up at him, one eye blood-red where it should be white and their cheekbone bruised in dark purple clouds. Their jaw was scraped up like they’d landed on the ground, matching their scabbed palms in his hands. “What are you doing?” David asked, trying so hard to keep his voice low and soft—trying not to growl or yell because of the fear that had built in his chest from the moment he heard their name on that call.

“Oh,” they exhaled and their shoulders dropped. They looked down at themself and flushed. “Sorry. It’s been a bad night. I was mugged but it’s fine.”

They didn’t know he knew about that. “It doesn’t look fine.”

They turned toward the tracks again. “I kicked my keys when he went for them and they went down there… If he got my keys he could be at my place and if he didn’t, well, I need them.” Their voice was tinny, carefully logical but fragile in that desperation.

David nodded, still holding onto their hands and very gently drawing them another step away from the tracks. “I’ll look.”

Babe exhaled hard and shook their head, wincing at a pain in their body and stopping short in the gesture. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find them. You’ve probably got someplace to be.”

David stared at them. Was it shock or did they really think he was just passing by? He folded their hands inside of his. This was the first time he’d ever touched Babe. Pack was very physical but David had never been good at building those relationships. With other wolves, it was easier. It was simpler. With the non-shifters in the pack, it had always been so much harder. He knew now that he’d made a mistake when he thought that was okay—that he didn’t need to build on those bonds as well. Babe was looking at him like a work associate being nice to them on a rough day. It was polite but unexpected and certainly unnecessary. They expected nothing from him.

“I don’t have anywhere to be. I came here looking for you,” he said, their hand spasming in his.

They looked down at their joined hands for the first time, as if just now registering the contact. And then their eyes widened and their face shot up to seek his gaze again. Their words rushed out of them. “I didn’t break covert.”

It was a gut punch.

They pulled their hands out of his and took a step back, chin pressing high as they tried to stand taller. “I would have let you know after… After I got home. I just…” They looked over their shoulder at the tracks and their lost keys again, frowning.

David nodded. First problem first. He could do that.

He stepped around them and up to the edge of the platform, eyeing the shadows until he spotted the bundle of keys on a ring. He jumped down.

“Be careful!” Babe rushed to the edge.

David could hear the trains and knew exactly how long he had. He snagged the keys, pocketed them, and jumped back up onto the platform. He was just turning them toward the exit when Milo came down the steps, slowing and stopping at the sight of them.

“Hey,” he said to Babe, gaze flicking over the state of them.

David heard the way the other wolf’s pulse quickened, the edges of rage tucked behind his teeth.

Babe sighed, shoulders drooping as they started up the stairs. “I guess this is a thing now.”

Milo frowned and turned to follow them. “How was this not going to be?”

David shot him a warning look but Babe didn’t wither under the badgering tone. They sighed again, a little groan of annoyance now. They were slow on the steps but neither shifter was going to rush them.

“I mean, I figured I could go home and clean up before it had to be public knowledge that I got mugged. Asher is going to be—” They stopped and swung around.

Both shifters stopped, arms out to stabilize them if they were falling over.

“Does he know? He’s going to panic and think I died.”

David blinked at the rush of words. He shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.” He really just wanted to see them—to be able to tell his best friend that they were in one piece and breathing.

Babe sagged in relief, nodding, almost slumping into the railing with the weight of it. “Good. Good. Just, let me clean up and I’ll video call him. That’ll be better.”

David wasn’t sure it would be, but he nodded.

Babe started the upward march again. David had never realized how many fucking steps their were until he watched this human drag themself up each one. He could swear he could hear Milo’s teeth grinding on the effort not to pick them up—the same as his.

“Do you know who it was?” David asked, trying to distract all of them while getting a little information.

“What?”

“The biter,” Milo helped.

Babe jerked a little, free hand flying to the bandage on their wrist. “I’m not going to turn am I?”

Milo laughed.

David groaned. “No. Asher really needs to take you to those classes…”

They exhaled tired relief. “Never saw him before. He cornered me and tossed me around. Bit my wrist and then laughed. He wanted my stuff, my phone, my keys, and my wallet.” They swallowed, looking up at the last stretch of steps.

David squeezed his fists until his fingers popped to resist scooping them up.

They continued to walk. “But my phone was busted from his initial attack and the keys I’d kicked. The next train was coming in. He took all my cards though and said…” Babe stopped then they reached the sidewalk atop the steps. They took a deep breath.

“Said what?” David asked.

They opened their eyes and looked at him, not seeming to know what he was talking about at first.

“What did the vampire say?”

A shudder rocked them when they remembered and it was like watching a person remember to be afraid. “Oh.”

“Babe?”

They looked up the street toward their building. “He said he’d see me later.”

Milo growled low in his chest and David felt relieved at the sound if only because it was the echo of the one he was holding back.

Babe looked at them both. “He didn’t mean it though, right? I mean, that’s just something someone would say to scare. There’s no reason for him to bother with me again.”

David frowned. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Babe nodded like he was agreeing with them, relieved and started down the sidewalk.

David tipped his head toward Milo, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Find him,” David growled. “Get Darlin to help you and hunt him down. I want him in pieces in a box by morning.”

Milo nodded once and was gone.

David joined Babe, close at their side but not quite touching, always ready to catch them or buffer anyone else out of their way. It was one of the longest walks of his life but they both sagged in relief when they reached their apartment door. For a second Babe thought they’d lost their keys again, until David pulled them from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“You don’t have to stay,” they said when they were inside.

He shut and locked the door. The lock was just for them. Nothing was getting past him.

Babe let out a little laugh. “I’m going to clean up, okay? I’ll call Ash after that. Just… Just wait, okay?”

David nodded and stayed in the living room when they headed down the hall to their bathroom.

He kept his senses focused on their breathing, hearing it even through the shut door and the spray of the shower. It took everything he had not to move when they started crying. They needed that moment alone and he wasn’t going to take it from them. He was going to pretend he hadn’t listened, even if he was, even if he had to just in case they passed out.

He texted Angel to let them know that he had found Babe, everything was okay, but he’d be over at Asher and Babe’s for a while.

-

Babe tried not to cry. Really they did. It was stupid. It wouldn’t help anything. Oh god but it had been such a bad night. They’d been so scared and then so embarrassed and now they were a mess and they’d have to call Asher and he’d feel terrible and the whole pack knew and it was going to be a big deal and how could they even convince anyone it wasn’t when their face looked like that!

They stripped down and bunched all their clothes into a tight ball, cramming them down into the trash and then tying off the plastic bag and throwing it into the corner. They felt like a mess. They felt out of control and like everyone was looking. It made their skin hurt.

They showered, trying not to wallow and take too long because they knew David would still be out there. Poor guy was stuck having to sit in their living room, thinking they were falling apart. If they could show him they were fine he’d probably feel okay to leave.

They cried some more in the shower, hoping to get the last of it out. They cleaned up, dressed in some soft sweats and a hoodie with long sleeves. Their palms throbbed, the scrapes deep and matching the ones on their jaw. It was going to look even worse tomorrow. And their eye… they could barely look at it, the white gone red.

When it was as good as it was going to get, they marched back down the hall to their living room. David wasn’t there. Their heart lurched but just as soon as they’d started to panic that they were all alone, they found him in the kitchen. He had the fridge open but had stopped to stare back at them. “I forgot that living with Ash, there’s never any leftovers.”

They exhaled, letting some of the strain in their chest go with that breath. “Yeah. I can make you—”

He shot them a look that was between outrage and shock. “I’ll make us something. What do you want?”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“French toast, right?”

Babe stared at him, the sleeves of Asher’s hoodie bunched up in their palms, pressing into those scrapes. “What?”

“When we do pack get togethers overnight and make waffles or pancakes in the morning… Ash always asks for French toast,” he said as he pulled the eggs and milk out and then found a loaf of bread. “He never used to ask for French toast. He has a whole thing about pancakes being superior to all other breakfast options. He started asking for French toast when you joined.”

Babe felt heat rush their face and something ease in their heart. They sank into one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, nodding. “Yeah.” They loved French toast.

David nodded and then took out of phone and waved it over his shoulder. “Do you want to call or do you want me to?”

Tears stung their eyes. It was stupid. Everything was fine and they just needed to let Ash know that.

They held out their hand and David passed them the phone.

It wasn’t hard to find his number and it only rang a couple times before that voice they’d been missing so much picked up.

“Hey buddy. What’s up?” Asher sing-songed, thinking it was David calling.

He was on some trip to meet and get to know other packs on the continent, a gathering out in the wilderness to build relationships. Baby sighed.

The levity was gone from his voice. “Babe? What are you doing on David’s phone?”

How the hell were they supposed to say this? “Everything is okay. Everyone is okay. I just… My phone is broken.” True but not all of it. They closed their eyes. “I got mugged in the subway and my phone got broken. David had to walk me home.” Nope, not quite. “There was a police report and I had to go to the hospital, but I’m okay and I didn’t break covert or anything.”

The pause seemed long even if it was only seconds. “Oh Baabe,” he said so gently that their heart melted. “I’m so sorry. You’re sure you’re okay? That must have been so scary.”

They exhaled so much relief, dropping their head forward onto their folded arm on the counter. Thank god he hadn’t freaked out. They weren’t sure they could handle that right now. They just wanted normal. “It was but I’m okay.”

“You’re home now?”

They nodded and then remembered they had to actually say it. “Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking tough, Baabe. I’ll be there in the morning.”

They sat up, dragging a breath. “You don’t have to—”

“You know I’m coming home. Really, you’re giving me an excuse to do exactly what I want, which is to come back to you. So just hang tight, okay? Order delivery or something, sleep in, and I’ll be there when you wake up, okay?”

Babe hummed something close to a yes.

“David’s there?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to him? I’ll be home soon, okay? I love you so much, Baabe.”

“I love you too,” they said and then held out the phone.

David took it and held it to his ear.

-

David turned back toward the eggs.

“Who?” There was no smile or light-heartedness to Asher’s voice now.

“Milo’s on it.”

“How bad is it?”

“Not bad.” He couldn’t give him details without Babe overhearing. “I’ll text you.”

“Broken bones?”

“No,” he was fast to answer that.

“Unempowered?”

“No.”

Asher growled.

“Milo’s on it,” David reminded. “I’ll have it for you when you get here.”

“David…” Asher started, human voice shuddering with the effort to stay in that form when probably his whole wolf was trying to shift out and run.

“Anything,” he said.

“Just… stay with them until I get there? They’re tough but…”

David nodded. He’d never intended to go anywhere. “We’re making French toast. We’ll be here when you get back to town.”

Asher grunted and hung up. It wasn’t like him to be short on words but David understood.

Babe had their head in their arms again. “You don’t have to stay,” they said as soon as he started cracking eggs. “I’m probably just going to sleep.”

“Great. Then I can pick what we’re watching.”

Babe lifted their head and looked at him before relenting with a nod. “Sure. You’re a good friend. Asher’s lucky to have you,” they said, voice quiet with the soft compliment.

It made his chest swell but his brow pinch. “You’re pack, Babe. Yes, you’re Asher’s mate, but you’re also pack.” He sighed. “You should have called me from the hospital, not because this was some sort of trouble you needed to report but because you needed help.”

“I didn’t.”

“You could have used help,” he reworded for them and felt the echo of his words in words spoken to him by Asher in the past. “You could have called any of us. You don’t have to call me if you don’t want to, but Milo or—”

“My phone was broken.”

“There are phones in the hospital. You know you could have called… and I know why you didn’t. But you don’t need to need us to call us. It’s okay to just want us to show up.”

They pressed their lips, thinking about it.

He cracked another egg. “And stop worrying about covert.”

They looked up. “But you worry about covert—”

“Yeah. It’s my job to worry about it on behalf of the pack. You don’t need to give a shit about it. When someone hurts you, all bets are off, and I will handle everything else.”

Babe blinked at him and then finally asked. “The vampire isn’t going to come back for me, is he?”

David huffed, looking for the cinnamon on the shelf. “No. You don’t ever need to worry about that.”

Babe sighed and nodded. “Thanks.”

“Any time.”

[christinesficrecs]

Hi, would you plz help me find a fic where the hale family is alive. Scott got bit by someone (Peter or some rougue alpha, I don't remember). Talia wanted Scott to be pack but since scott and stiles are kind of a package deal, she don't have a choice but to tell derek to fake date stiles fully knowing that stiles has a crush on derek, so that Scott has to stay in the pack. At first derek was reluctant to it but later on with stiles' insistent derek starts to fake date him. And then later when derek really likes stiles, he overhear talia and derek talking about the fake dating thing and then heartbreak..... I don't remember if they get back together or not.

Hey! Pretty sure this is the right one. 😊

See Me In Hindsight by weathervaanes, wishingonalightningbolt | 19.6K | Explicit

Stiles is 18 when he finds out exactly what’s going on in Beacon Hills. He has a few months left before he goes off to college, has a while to help Scott become the best werewolf he can be - and also to get into Derek Hale’s pants. And his heart.

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

Nothing Permanent But Change pt.7

“Come in, Simon.”

Ghost was loitering like a wraith in the open doorway to Price’s office, unwilling to make the first move and encroach on the alpha’s territory. Millen had long since been sent back to his room, Soap pressed to his side for comfort. The beta and xi had curled up in Millen’s bed for some much-needed quiet time.

Swallowing hard, the lieutenant slowly shuffled into the room. For once, both his mask and balaclava were off, exposing his scarred, bloodless face. He was trembling steadily, feeling like he was back in primary school, being called into the principal’s office for scrapping on the playground. Or worse, the situation stirred up memories that had been buried deep for decades, of when his father would arrive home, booze-blearied and foul-tempered, and find some feeble excuse to beat Simon until he couldn’t get up from the floor. Better him than Tommy, though.

Price was sitting in his chair, taking in a long drag from a cigar. He breathed out the smoke and looked up. He gestured towards the seat opposite to his side of the desk. “Sit.”

Ghost shut the door behind him, keeping his head bowed. He had no scent to declare submission with, so he was forced to use his body language as much as possible. He said nothing, just slowly sat down, shoulders hunched and breaths stuttering silently.

Price shifted, and Ghost flinched, his arm coming halfway up instantaneously to block a hit that was never coming. Price’s stern expression softened ever-so-slightly.

“Simon,” he said firmly. “Look at me.”

Ghost’s tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips before he tore his gaze from the hardwood to look at his captain. He stared like a man awaiting an execution sentence.

Price stood. Ghost tensed at the movement, the strictly military part of his brain registering it as a threat. Price, however, just walked around the desk, stopping beside Ghost’s chair. He rested one hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder, making him go even more rigid, hazel eyes rolling up in fear like a spooked horse. But Ghost still didn’t move an inch, his bloodshot stare locked on to one of the empty areas of the wall straight ahead.

“Simon,” Price said quietly. Ghost still didn’t move, just trembled.

Price cupped the hinge of the lieutenant’s jaw to turn his face upwards. “Look at me, Simon. I’m not him.”

Ghost — Simon — choked down a surge of tangled emotion. It settled like a lump at the end of his esophagus. Factually, he knew that Price was not like his father. Simon wasn’t here to be hurt. Reprimanded, yes. Punished, likely— deservedly. But Price surely would never…

Price’s thumb, the pad rough from a lifetime of hard service, grazed over Simon’s squared cheekbone. The motion was so tender that it had Simon struggling not to break down into tears.

“I’m not him,” Price repeated, for only Simon’s ears to hear in the stillness of the room. “I will never lay a hand on you unless you want me to. You can screw up, you can make me mad, but no matter what, I would never hurt you. Do you understand?”

“C-Captain—“ Simon’s voice broke, and he was desperately fighting down a sob of wretched, pathetic proportions. He gulped in a breath and pressed his face against Price’s palm. “John—“

“Shh,” Price murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of Simon’s temple, where there was a thin line of scar tissue from an old knife graze. “It’s alright, son. You’re not in trouble. What happened today was a trauma response. I just need you to tell me what triggered it, and where your head was at when you lost it.”

Simon gave a broken whimper as Price straightened back up, losing the closeness between them. The noise would have been comical coming from just an absolute unit of a man, had his misery not been so clearly written across his features.

“I— it was Soap,” Simon finally managed to say through hiccuping breaths. “I knew they were only playing, but— but Soap hit the ground and ‘e sounded hurt, and it was exactly like at Las Almas when he was shot, John, and everythin’ happened so fast, he was on ‘is back and I ‘ad to protect him—“

Price pressed a finger to Simon’s lips, stopping the younger man’s spiral before it could reach a full nosedive. “Alright. Alright, that’s all I needed to know.”

Simon was white-knuckling the armrests of the chair, struggling to maintain his fragile composure. “I d-didn’t— mean to—“

Price soothed the lieutenant with another chaste kiss to the forehead, and then carefully tugged him to stand. Simon was taller than him like this, but that didn’t matter in the moment. Price stroked the san’s cropped hair, admiring the gentle curls that were the color of cornsilk. “You’re still a good boy,” Price reassured him, and Simon melted into his touch, chin resting against Price��s neck. In return, Price encircled his arms around Simon’s waist, holding him loosely so that the lieutenant had the option to escape if he wanted to.

“You’re to apologize to Millen,” Price decided, though his tone was not purposefully cruel, even if what he was saying would cut deep into Simon’s pride. It was necessary to smooth over incidents between packmates as soon as possible, lest negative feelings be given time to fester. The worst-case scenario in any pack — especially military ones — was a subordinate having to fear his superior as the result of one bad encounter.

“What if I scared ‘im off?” Simon asked despondently, still drooped against his captain’s warm, stolid body.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“But what if—“

Price shushed his lieutenant by running a hand up and down the ridged length of his spine, feeling the bumps of each vertebrae. Some were a bit out of place or slightly lumpy, a result of dozens of injuries over as many years, and it made the area sensitive. Knowing this, Price was taking full advantage of it. Simon gave a hoarse moan as Price’s skilled fingers dug into a hard mound of tissue just at the base of his back, forcing the muscle to spasm sharply and then relax.

“Y’tense,” Price muttered in a voice that was tinged with amusement. He repeated the action, and Simon instinctively tried to pull away. Price allowed him.

“Okay?” Pruce questioned, and Simon gave a small nod. He rubbed at the back of his neck hesitantly, then leaned forward to nuzzle against Price’s prickly muttonchops— marking the captain as his even though he had no pheromones with which to do so.

Price rumbled approvingly, and rubbed against Simon’s packmark— a clear pink indent on a circle of otherwise unblemished skin. It was the only mark there was room for, as to both the left and right sides of Simon’s neck were ragged swathes of scar tissue: deep, criss-crossing cuts, chunks cut from his flesh as if he were a Thanksgiving ham to be diced and served upon a platter. His scent glands had been gouged out with vigor. The entire grisly mess had been cauterized, leaving various different shades of greyish-red where the burns had not healed well.

The disfigurement was courtesy of Manuel Roba. The torture Simon had underwent at the hands of the cartel overlord had permanently crippled his former dynamic as an alpha.

Simon hated his scars. Hated how his body no longer functioned because of what had been taken from him. He didn’t understand how Price could gently knead the welted flesh and not feel disgust, and yet every chance he had, the captain continued to do so.

“Proud of you for tellin’ me what happened, pup,” said Price. He gripped Simon’s scruff, nudging the taller man down so he could peck a quick kiss to the cicitrixes that peeked out above Simon’s high shirt collar. “Won’t have you talk to the staff sergeant yet tonight. Give him a day to calm down, then I’ll oversee the both of you, keep things friendly.”

Simon nodded in agreement, trying to push his head against Price’s cheek again. He gave a whine that was more of a constriction of air high in his nasal passages than something actually audible, but Price got the message just fine.

“Come on, pup, let’s head to my quarters. You could use a little skin-on-skin, eh?” Price guided Simon to the door with a hand on the small of his back, and Simon whimpered happily in response.

“Want me to text Johnny, see if he wants to join?” Price offered, figuring that Roach or Gaz could take over for the beta on xi nest-sharing duties. Simon nodded fervidly, the thought of his bondmate making his previously dulled eyes light up.

Price plucked his phone from his pocket, tapping on it several times before the screen lit up. He really had preferred his old flip-phone, but Gaz had got him this fancy Android for Christmas last year, and how could Price say no to his boy? The captain had let his beta show him how to work the maddeningly complex electronic until he finally had a very, very basic grasp on how to work the blasted thing. It took the captain nearly a full two minutes, but he managed to send Soap a text.

P: My room. Simon.

He tried to send one of the little ghost emojis, and ended up misclicking and sending two crying cats and a trombone instead. After a moment, a bubble with three blinking dots appeared on Soap’s side of the chat app, and then his reply arrived.

S: On it. ETA three minutes, have to grab Roach to stay with Millen. He’s still a wee bit shaken up.

Price managed to send a thumbs-up and then stuffed his phone back into his pocket. Simon was waiting anxiously by the door, sniffing the air to try and pick up any trace of his bondmate. Price slipped his own hand into Simon’s, rubbing over knuckles swollen and split from the san’s favorite pastime— the gym’s punching bag. “Come on, love. Johnny’ll be along shortly.”

They walked together to Price’s quarters, which were quite spacious due to his large pack size and rank as an officer. The bed was the width and length of two queen-sized put together, a size sold specifically for pack alphas to provide prime nesting space for their omegas and betas, and covered with thick quilts and pillows, all scented thoroughly by all of the 141. There was a small couch and a few beanbags clumped to one side, along with a closet and a dresser filled with memorabilia.

Because the 141 were only a pack of five, they didn’t qualify to have a shared housing unit outside of the barracks. If they had only one more official packmate, they would be upgraded to something more like a two-story flat, with a large bedroom and bathroom at the upper floor and a common room, kitchen, and spare room at the ground level, the space primed to strengthen the pack’s bonds by way of constant proximity.

As they were, spread out between hallways, it put stress on them all. Soap and Ghost didn’t even have a two-person room to share despite being bondmates. The brass was so far behind on the permit paperwork for proper pack lodgings that it was frustrating. They had all been waiting years now.

Price guided Simon down into bed and began to strip off the san’s boots and outer gear, until he was just in his plain black boxers. Knowing that Simon got cold easily, Price grabbed one of his long-sleeved shirts from one of the dressed drawers and managed to wrangle the already-purring younger man into it before shucking off his own clothes, down to just his shorts, as well, which were, of course, camouflage-printed. John Price truly was a military man, through and through.

After they were both a bit more comfortable, Price lowered himself down beside Simon with a soft groan, his stiff joints easing into the mattress. He pulled Simon to his chest, claiming him as the little spoon. It was their usual position, and one that made Simon feel safe and protected.

The door brushed open and then closed back, and the familiar outline of Soap entered the room. He barked softly to announce his presence to Simon, who raised his head instantly, keening excitedly in response.

Soap dipped his head momentarily to let Price chuff against his right scent gland, for once playing the part of a respectful subordinate. Then the Scottish beta crawled up to entangle himself with his bondmate, and Simon latched onto him like a large British octopus. Price dragged the blankets over the three of them and slung his leg over Simon’s to hook his foot under Soap’s knee, refusing to let either of his boys move even an inch away from him. Perhaps he should have let Ghost and Soap to have some private time, as mates, but he granted himself the right to be selfish, for once, and breathed in the musky salt heat of the two men cozied up at his side.

“Ye alrigh’, Si, lovey?” Soap murmured, nudging his nose into Ghost’s eye socket. Ghost huffed and curled his arm over Soap’s face in response, disgruntled.

“‘M not a child,” Ghost muttered. “Not a lovey.”

“But ye are,” said Soap, voice muffled, and he nibbled at Ghost’s arm through his shirt sleeve. “Yer my lovey. Mah wee little alpha.”

Ghost’s expression flashed with pain for a moment, and his brows drew together, suddenly looking far more downcast. Both Price and Soap noticed the change at once, and two sets of kisses were placed upon Ghost’s cheeks. The san squirmed and tried to hide himself under one of the pillows, but Price dragged him back up for more attentive care.

“‘M— not—“ Ghost pawed at Soap as the bets tried to work his way under Ghost’s shirt. “Not an alpha. Anymore.”

“Maybe not,” Price concurred, voice a throaty catch, like an old station wagon puttering to life. “But you’re still our Simon.”

“Aye,” agreed Soap. He huffed indignantly as Ghost tried again to escape. “Stop movin’, ye git, Ah’m tryna show ye tha’ Ah love ye!”

Price chuckled and bumped his knuckles against Soap’s scrunkly mohawk. “He won’t let you. Stubborn little pup.”

“Which one of us are ye talkin’ aboot?” Soap laughed, nipping at Price’s fingers. “Being stubborn, Ah mean.”

Price smirked, adjusting himself so he could keep Ghost linked onto his elbow and Soap clinging to his leg. “The both of you. Muppets.”

“Old man,” Soap shot back, earning him a half-hearted swat. “Ow!”

“Call me old again,” Price warned, though he was mostly teasing, “and I’ll show you young whelp just how much life I still have in me.”

“A reanimated corpse would ‘ave more stamina than you,” said Ghost, prodding directly at the bit of Price’s ego that he knew would bruise the easiest. “Y’ nearly ready for retirement, captain. Didn’t that nice waitress give y’ the senior discount at that diner in Worcestershire?”

Price growled low, Ghost’s words thudding directly into their mark like a heavy sniper’s slug. His scent flared with irritation that he swiftly tamped down, unwilling to allow himself to be angry with Simon, even to the smallest degree. Instead, what seeped in was a fondness that he had acknowledged years ago. It had originally sprung up without warning like some scam ad in an opened tab of a phishy website— just the presence of his boys infected the hardwired code of his instincts, converting what had once been a hardened, take-no-bullshit heart into something paternal. Imagine that: his own bloody biology had betrayed him, turned him into some sort of mother hen.

But he could never deny that he didn’t love every second spent with his pack. Price had never gotten to nurture that side of himself before he had taken Simon and the rest of the 141 under his wing, and it felt good to look over the sound bodies of the little family he had gathered together and know that he had done his job well for the day. So long as each member of the unit was alive and breathing, Price was content. Even if they all were cheeky mongrels and he wanted to smack some sense of respect into them.

Soap wriggled further beneath Price, until he was laying under both of the captain’s legs and smooshing his entire cranium into Ghost’s stomach. The spoiled little bastard wanted attention; he always did.

Price absentmindedly rubbed at the top of Soap’s head with his sock-clad foot, like one would do with a beloved pet that was too far out of arm’s reach. Soap didn’t appear to mind, and he settled back down with a purr. Ghost grumbled fussily, clearly nettled that Price hadn’t risen to the bait.

“Y’know, you’re gettin’ more complacent in your old age,” Ghost declared, and his shit-eating temptation was more akin to Soap than himself. Maybe the sergeant’s cocky attitude was finally rubbing off on him, dissolving subliminally into Ghost’s personality without either of them knowing or. Or maybe Simon just wanted to push the limits of what he knew Price would allow after the stress of the day.

“And you’re getting to be more of a brat,” snorted Price. “Don’t test me, pup. I can still bend you over my knee well enough.”

“Negative, sir, it would blow out the joint. You’d need surgery for it,” Simon replied, completely deadpan. It wasn’t a completely empty threat on Price’s part; the captain had taken the lieutenant across his lap more than once when Simon needed to let go of some of his hurting by replacing it with a pain he could control. It worked exemplarily for the times when Simon needed discipline, when he was probing at the thinnest threads that might snap at the right pressure.

Price grunted. “Behave.”

Simon licked his lips. There was that tone he’d been waiting to hear, the one he craved like a hit. It was hotter than the burn of any whiskey and more euphoric than the menthol smoke of his favorite cigarette brand. It was a slavery to a chemical high and it made him want to drop to his knees and beg to be sacrificed at the altar of Price’s authority.

Price caught Simon’s expression and raised one bushy eyebrow. “Randy, are we?”

“No, he’s Simon,” Soap giggled from beneath Price’s legs. He was kneading quite shamelessly at Ghost’s arse, and apparently thought that his own joke was worthy of Charlie Chaplin. They shared the same grin, anyway.

“S’funny, Johnny.” Ghost ground back against the beta’s hands until Price whapped the both of them with a pillow.

“Control yourselves,” the captain chastised them. “If you feel well enough to be flirting, Simon, then you’re feeling well enough to get out of my bed.”

Ghost immediately stilled and curled into Price’s side, playing dead. “Can’t move. ‘M asleep.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Price’s lips. That ploy always worked. He squeezed Ghost’s thick bicep.  “Good lad.”

Soap rested his head against Ghost’s latissimus dorsi, and the lieutenant’s hand inched down to pet at his bondmate. Soap’s eyes closed and he sighed in gratification.

“Johnny?”

Soap’s eyes opened again, and he swiveled his head to peer up at Ghost. “Aye?”

Ghost’s voice faltered briefly. “I… the staff sergeant. Is he—?”

“He’s fine, L.t.” Soap gave a small grin. “He’s tougher than ‘e looks. To be fair, though, being set upon wi’ yer fangs would scare anybody.”

Ghost knew that Soap was trying to make light of the situation— the lieutenant had already told his sergeant why he had attacked Millen during the time Ghost was in his room, being brought back to reality enough to face Price. Las Almas had been a traumatic experience for Ghost and Soap both, neither knowing if they would ever see each other again or if they would make it out alive. It was that mission that had brought them together to court for the first time afterwards. Even with the lingering echo of gunshots in their skulls, they wouldn’t trade what had happened for anything.

“Gettin’ in y’ heid,” Soap chided. Ghost blinked back to himself once more. How did both the captain and sergeant always know when he was becoming lost to the past? It was almost uncanny how in-tune they were with his mannerisms, recognizing entire confessionals in the way his nose scrunched up at an unwelcome memory or when his fingers twitched for a gun that wasn’t there.

Ghost made himself fill his lungs and then slowly exhale. He counted to ten and then felt the urge to check the perimeter of the room fade. They were safe here. Price always made sure of that.

“That’s better,” Soap said, satisfied. He chewed insistently at Ghost’s hand until the petting resumed, and Price tangled his fingers into Ghost’s hair in a mirror of the action.

It was pack, plain and simple. Love, trust, and years of codependency wound into a protective shield for the three of them. They all smelled of each other. They knew each other and knew that their presence was one that meant security.

Later on, Ghost would have make up for what he’d done to Millen, and hope that the xi wouldn’t be affixed in his terror of him. Price would be there to smooth over the transition as best he could. Soap would excel in his role of moral support once the confrontation was over.

But for now, they could stay in their nest, and know that things were okay. 

[maukree]

Pack - Chapter 7

The last thing Bucky remembers is the lounge, that mouthwatering scent, and then everything going straight to shit with no pit stops. He rolls over, coming face to face with a bunch of blankets. They aren’t soft anymore. They aren’t clean. And they sure as hell don’t smell like anything close to heaven now. They reek of sweat, filth, and something vaguely burnt—the fuck? Must’ve been his self-respect torching itself and going up in flames. His head is pounding, his heart is pounding, his den’s a war zone, the bed broken. His goddamn mattress looks molested. Jesus. What the fuck was that?

In Bucky’s defense, the compound’s a revolving door, and he barely recognizes half the faces most of the time, let alone pays attention to memos that pop up on his phone.

Chapter 7/7, complete Rating: Explicit Words: 69,568

Read here

[frownyalfred]

theres something so fascinating and appealing to bruces claiming of lex in CRU. its simultaneously brutal and intimate. i love how its similar to a mating bite, and that darling lex carries the scar from it

Yes, this!!! It’s simultaneously a dominance bite/attack but also a claim at the same time. Bruce could have (should have?) ripped Lex’s throat out and it would have solved the issue he was trying to address at the time. But he doesn’t kill. And Lex was clearly not fully in his right mind with Zod. So Bruce bites him instead, and pack bonds them by accident (or as a known side effect).

Interestingly doing that also solidifies and formalizes the bond between Bruce and Clark. Another thing Lex can take credit for…

[toliveforthehopeofitall626]

First Time Omega: Chapter 1

THE BEGINNING

Being an Omega was supposed to be an honor. It meant you were responsible for the majority of the continuation of humanity. It was your duty to be a good Dam, stay home, raise strong pups, and take care of your pack. It was supposed to be a joy. At least that's what everyone is taught. Omega's are told they're special and given all his praise just to keep them complacent and force them into to accept their position in society. Most Omega's would not mind who they are, what they were born to be. Most families wouldn't think twice about their child's secondary gender. 

An Alpha is strong, they are who go on to become the number one heroes and deadliest villains... or so they say. Alphas protect the pack and keep everyone safe. Alpha's are the ones almost always in the spotlight. Beta's are strong as well, just maybe not as strong. They're not often considered as special. Most of the population belongs to this group. Beta's for the most part are normal. They don't have to worry about heats and ruts, or their pheromones going crazy. They're the more level headed ones in most situations. They can hold positions just about anywhere in the community. That leaves us with the Omegas. The group with the least amount of rights... though no one would ever admit to that. Omega's could only work as caregivers, unless you happened to be mated to an Alpha who would allow you to tag along. Some heroes had mated Omegas that they formed a team with. The current number one hero was actually a mated pair with the Number two who happened to be his omega. This is better than how things once were, of course, when if you were born omega you had no say, no vote, no voice. You stayed home with the pups and were only useful as a breeding machine. Compared to that... this is better.

Your family still believed in these archaic things. They were all very old fashioned and didn't agree with the change and progress that had been made in omegan and beta rights. They were all proud, strong Alphas. Every single one of them... until the day you were born. It was a dark day, a stain on the family history when you began presenting signs of being an Omega. How could your mother, shining pillar of her pack, possibly have given birth to a lowly omega. How could she have possibly brought in a being that was so worthless all it was good for was satisfying an alpha. She was disgusted. Not only was she disgusted... she refused to allow it. 

She used her family wealth to pay off a private doctor, demanding they keep your secondary gender a secret and under wraps. And so you went on blockers. A special little pill designed to help fully grown omegas navigate life. In a low dose it was just enough to keep an Omega's scent from being too strong so they don't cause a disruption in public. You were put on a dose nearly ten times as strong. It fully stopped any sort of development. Making you almost fully unrecognizable as an Omega. Infact unless they were a medical professional... everyone thought you were a Beta. Which... still wasn't great but at least it was better than being an Omega. At least, according to your mother, you had a real purpose. 

So you lived your life, constantly making sure you were taking your medications, hiding who you truly were, and living in fear of being caught. Growing up with a parent who hated you for something you couldn't control was... also not so great. She was cold and calculating and distant. She made it well known she despised your existence and everything it meant for her. Though of course to keep appearances she had to publicly make it look like she was at least a mostly decent mother. If she had it her way, you would have been shipped off to some Omega heat facility to be pushed off on what ever Alpha wanted to have pups and matched compatibility with you genetically. After all that's what her pack did. 

Everyone in your mother's pack was an alpha. They were all just like her. They were old money with old fashion ways of thinking. They took pride in being the only fully alphan pack. There was no place for beta's or omegas in their world. When they were ready to expand, the next generation would go to a heat facility and be matched with who ever would give them the best odds of producing more alpha offspring.  It was all transactional and absolutely no love. The omega chosen would live with which ever alpha they were paired with until the pup or pups were born then immediately sent back. This kept the pup from growing attached to the omega. Sure it wasn't healthy for the Omega or the Pup, but they didn't care about that. All that mattered to them was continuing their strong genetics in the next generation. It lead to the Alpha's all being very... anti Beta/Omega and pro Alpha. Most of the kids that you grew up around all would look at you with disdain. You were nothing more than a lowly Beta in their eyes, a grunt worker, a servant among the upper class. 

If only they knew. If any of them found out what you truly were... You'd be thrown out in the streets if you were lucky. If you weren't... well... It wouldn't surprise you if soon after learning the truth you were found dead. Not only you, but your mother too... okay so maybe she wouldn't wind up dead but she'd wish she were. Disinherited, disowned, dishonored... This was all something your mother had pounded into your head. She tormented you with the constant reality of your situation to keep you in line, to keep you from missing eve one dose of your medication. The fear of what would happen to you both if you were discovered needed to be what kept you in line. It sure as hell couldn't be her love. She had none of that for you. You were the blight that she was left to deal with. And even despite knowing this, knowing how much she hated your pure existence... you couldn't help but feel love for the only family you had ever known.

So you took your medicine like a good kid, you did every single thing you were told. You made sure to be absolutely perfect. Never make a mistake. All the best grades. You couldn't risk anything less. And you succeeded in this for most of your life. Any normal family would have been proud to have a kid like you. For years everything was fine. You were left to your studies, you went to the best college money could buy. You may have been a "beta" but you were still from the esteemed L/N family. Your mother had to give you the best as was expected of her to do by society. And everything worked perfectly as it should... until the day it didn't. 

First Time Omega - Chapter 1 - CatastrophicallyBlue - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Looking for a fic I read a while back where Derek sees bruises on stiles and realises that he and the pack accidentally hurt him all the time so he makes the pack pull back, leading to touch starved stiles- at graduation stiles hugs Scott and they realise what they’ve done

Hi @lilyneedscoffeeplease! @hedwig221b says it's this one.

Cuddle Me Pack by AlexTheShipper

(1/1 I 2,450 I General I Sterek)

The pack realizes they have been injuring Stiles on accident, and completely stop touching him to avoid the problem. Stiles is left touch starved and lonely, and feels he's no longer part of the pack.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (15) -  The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

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

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 15 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,492

Work count for Story: 123,187

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

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, and discussions of past trauma, violence, abuse, illegal sex work, underage escort services, and threats of death. THIS IS A HEAVY CHAPTER.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

It's so warm, soft, and orangey.

Wait, orange? ‘When did the pillows ever smell this orange-like?’ You think this as sleep slowly fades away.

The light from the sitting window shines as the sun rises over the hills. You haven’t felt this well-rested since you used to curl up on the couch with your father before he skipped out on the family. Well, maybe the kitty piles with Evie’s family were this good; then again, maybe not. Chasing the evil thoughts away, you snuggle into the pillow harder when you realize– it’s purring.

That is when you feel a chin snuggle down on your head, something tightening around your waist, and… is that a hand rubbing on your back? There is also the slight rise and fall that you failed to recognize, which should have reminded you from the start that you weren’t alone. Slowly tilting your head up, you blink them to focus on the sleepiest and warmest dark red eyes. There is a sleepy smile on the Alpha’s face as he purrs more at your attention.

Your night comes back to you as you remember asking the now-purring panda hybrid to stay with you because being alone again or even sleeping after having nightmares was not something you were good at doing. Honestly, you don’t even remember falling asleep.

Moving back away, the Alpha’s grip holds strong, peaking open one dark red eye at you before he says, “No, stay. Sleep more,” and promptly falls asleep again.

“Alpha Chim, I really should get up,” you softly reply, not wanting to disagree with him, but you did have to pee. Even though you would love to relish the body heat provided by the Alpha, proving Namjoon’s point from yesterday, you didn’t want his mates to find you two like this.

When you go to move your arms again, you find that you have one arm under his waist, one resting on his chest, one leg between his, and the other over his hip. Great! Either you were a tornado, and this is his way of containing you, or he is a cuddler.

Snickers are heard off to the side of the bed, snapping your attention to see who else is in the room. Seokjin is leaning against one of the bedposts, his eyes like crescent moons as he smiles at the two of you.

“He is strong for being one of our tiny mates. Need to get away from Alpha Chim?” he asks quietly, moving closer to the middle of the bed. You nod, hesitant to speak up and wake the still-sleeping Alpha, who is very much attempting to be one with you.

Tapping your leg, Seokjin signals you to move it off Alpha Chim’s hip, making you blush because you realize again how compromising your situation's look is to the eldest bonded mate in the Bangtan pack.

Your movement, however, causes the red panda to wiggle into a smaller ball with a slight pout and, in turn, releases your leg from between his. While making the soft-looking red panda even cuter, it also allows some wiggle room for the arm trapped under his waist.

Looking at Seokjin, you can see the oldest mate taking in the many options for the situation you are unaware of. A smile graces your face as you see the puffy eyes from him recently waking up, the red line on his cheek from a crease in his pillow, and the non-brushed hair on his head. How his one sleeve is pushed up to his elbow shows off the lean strength of this forearm and the slimness of his wrist.

This is the real Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes trace the contours of his face before meeting his eyes, which are watching you ogle him. Immediately, you blush and hide your face in Jimin’s chest, putting yourself back towards the very hybrid that you are currently trying to flee from.

“My Dear, you have no reason to hide that pretty little face from me,” coos Seokjin. “I am happy you are taking the time to see me. However, hiding in Jimin’s chest won’t help you escape his grasp anytime soon.”

You let out a slight whine, pulling a more resounding, instinctually calming purr from Jimin. Glancing back up at him, his eyes are still shut, but his orange is sweeter with a hint more vanilla. Confusion colors your face as the slightly intoxicating scent tries to lure you back to sleep.

“No, no. Don’t let the cuddly panda keep you here. He is notorious for being late to things, my Dear.” Seokjin says as he lifts said panda’s arm draped over your waist. “Lean back.”

Following the direction, you lean back as he rests Jimin’s hand on the space on the pillow that was previously occupied by your head. Well, you are primarily untangled aside from the trapped arm. Tilting your head a bit, you look at Seokjin with an expression that says, ‘Now what?’

Seokjin raises a finger with a smirk, asks you to hold on, and then points for you to watch. Your eyes dart between the two Alpha mates, wondering what the heck is gonna happen.

Seokjin leans down, chittering in Jimin’s ear, and softly kisses just behind his lobe, causing the panda to gasp slightly. Continuing to lay soft kisses on the sleeping mate, Seokjin kneels outside the nest with one hand on the wall behind you.

While Seokjin technically does not cage you in, you are being hovered over by the Alpha. It feels similar but not overwhelming just yet because it feels safe.

Soft whines mixed with tiny groans escape Jimin’s sleeping form, bringing your attention out of your thoughts. Your eyes do not know if they want you to watch the slow flushing of Jimin’s skin as he is peppered with kisses or the smooth, taught muscles of Seokjin’s chest that you can glimpse now that gravity has pulled his sleeping shirt away.

It’s Jimin who finally wins with a high, keen sound escaping. Now his soft lips have parted, his breathing has sped up, and his hand on the pillow is grasping tight. How he is still sleeping through this amount of affection is beyond you. Even more confusing is why Seokjin isn’t upset that his ministrations are being, well, ignored by the younger.

“In a moment, you will know when; please move out of your nest, that is, if you still want to,” Seokjin whispers, glancing at your heated face.

You nod, still fascinated by the sight before you. Half of you wants to know what it would feel like to be Jimin, another half wants to be Seokjin, and a whole different version of you that you haven’t felt in a long time wants to stay and watch it play out.

If you were several years younger, your bladder wasn’t screaming at you, and there wasn’t the mantra about them being bonded mates of Bangtan, you could see how any rational young woman would have jumped at the chance.

Seokjin can smell your evident attraction to what is happening, but because of what he overheard from the open window last night when you and Namjoon returned, he knows he cannot push it more than he already has. He wants you to know that the option is there, but he can see in your eyes that you are still not seeing them for who they are to you.

Using the arm against the wall to keep himself propped up and not falling into your nest, Seokjin uses the other to lower Jimin’s sleep shirt, exposing his shoulder and neck. Tailing his kisses down to the juncture where they meet, Seokjin bites down enough to jerk Jimin’s body in a startled manner, which twists the panda onto his back. Jimin’s arms fly up to wrap around Seokjin’s upper body, almost as if he is grounding himself as he is woken up by the feisty actions of his older mate.

With a gasp and an inappropriate amount of arousal, you almost miss your chance to pull out your arm as Jimin jerks and twitches under Seokjin’s distraction-induced ministrations. The strength the elder shows by holding himself aloft while the younger clings to him is astonishing.

Scrambling out of bed, you bolt into the bathroom and shut the door. Making your way to the sink, you don’t dare look in the mirror because you already know how flush your face is. You can feel the heat coming off of you in waves. You were taught better than this; you bit your bottom lip with the thought that your family would be beside themselves with distaste at your reactions.

You are 10000000% sure that Seokjin could smell your reaction to what he was doing and was awake enough to understand whatever he would understand from that. You don’t think Jimin even realized you were still in the bed with the both of them, much less how your internal slut was reacting. You would only hope that Seokjin was okay with it. Being okay with it at the moment and being okay with it hours later are two vastly different things.

You were human and a woman, after all. Jimin had mentioned that previous Playmates were homosexual. Would that be upsetting to them if you weren’t? Aside from Yoongi and Jungkook, do they even realize that you are, in fact, only straight?

While you have no issues with any of the LQBTQ+ lifestyle, community, and an individual’s preferences, look at Derek and Lily; you were bland, plain old heterosexual. You weren’t opposed to the idea of noting how sexy or beautiful a biologically trans, cross-dressing, or drag queen female form was. You just weren’t interested in pursuing them sexually because most of them you might be curious about were way out of your league.  Out of your league, just like the Bangtan Pack.

Today, this meeting with the packhouse of Alphas has to happen. There is too much in the air that you need to really get settled before you find yourself doing something unladylike or, worse, getting fired. With that thought, you go about your morning routine.

The rest of the pack house sounded quiet, prompting you to take time for yourself. After making a cup of Earl Gray tea with a bit of honey and milk, you grabbed a blanket from the living room and went outside to the pavilion you noticed while talking to Ryan on the phone the other day.

Moving one of the chairs to face the sun as it rose, you bundled yourself in the blanket and sipped your tea. Your mind wandered about everything you wanted to discuss with the Bangtan pack.

You had to share your past with them as you did with Namjoon, and then your family history explained the human fort/nest issue. There was also the desire to set some ground rules, like private me times or intimate with each other times.

You weren’t a prude.

You knew they were bonded mates and what that meant. They even told you they took care of their ruts within the pack. So, you just needed to know what to do when those times came along. Today was the second time you had been very much present, and at least one, if not both of them, had been 100% aware you were there when they did… stuff, and you didn’t want to impose.

Though the fact they would even do stuff like that with you around would indicate that you were, in fact, not imposing, but that didn’t mean that the others like Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok would think the same way. It also didn’t mean that they would be comfortable with you just being there and watching them like they were your own personal live-action porno.

You continued thinking of things you needed to do over the remainder of the day, like maybe fixing or changing the fort, who’s not-date date would be next, etc.

What you didn’t notice was the three sets of eyes watching you.

Jungkook was heading inside when he heard you messing around in the kitchen, looking for whatever you were looking for. His little heart was racing a million beats per minute when you almost caught him in his animal form as he scrambled into a bush near the door when you came outside. He knows that you are not her, but at the same time, that doesn’t mean you won’t react like her.

Yoongi and Taehyung watch you from the second-story window of one of their dens. Both are not fond of the idea that you are purposely sitting alone, outside, in the cold, by yourself, and deeply thinking about something that could very well lead you to a place that doesn’t involve them without anyone with you.

Did they note just how by yourself you thought you were?

They could tell you were unaware of the Alpha outside with you because you didn’t come running and screaming inside, or you didn’t end up with a rabbit the size of a dog in your lap.

“Why is she alone, hyung?” asks Taehyung with a large pout on his lips and a furrow of his brow.

“Humans tend to cherish their time alone. They don’t have the pack mentality that we are born with,” answers Yoongi with his tail snapping back and forth.

Huffing, Taehyung whines, “She even made her own drink. Does she not understand that it is my job to do that right now? How will I ever gain her forgiveness if she doesn’t let me show her that I care for her and can provide?”

The soft steps of another mate joining them paused the conversation. Jimin hugs Taehyung around the waist, burying his face between the taller mate's shoulder blades. Low-toned chittering and purring fills the silence, pulling their attention to the shortest mate.

“What's got you in such an interesting mood, Jimin-ah?” inquires Yoongi as he moves away from the window to look at the panda’s face and sees the deep red eyes. “Oh, sorry, Alpha Chim.”

“That would be a combination of me and Y/n,” Seokjin says from the doorway. “Our minnie love decided to find his way into Y/n’s nest last night to sleep.”

“What?!” exclaims both Yoongi and Taehyung. The latter pulls out of the back hug to look at Alpha Chim’s flushed face. Taking a deep breath, Tae can smell the sweetness of his oranges mixed with cherries from Jinnie, but there is a sweetness almost like they were candied, which could only come from you.

“You did not,” Yoongi states more than he questions.

“He didn’t. Nothing was done between them other than holding onto each other like a pair of koalas as they slept fully clothed. I had to help Y/n wiggle herself out just to go to the bathroom,” chuckles Seokjin. “Someone didn’t want his ladymate to leave the nest this morning.”

“Then why is Alpha Chim out?” wonders Taehyung out loud.

Crunching his face, Seokjin says, “Not sure, actually. He was out when she woke up. I wonder if Alpha Chim was sleeping with y/n for some reason.”

“Protect, mate,” Alpha Chim finally speaks up. “Nightmares. Crying. Alpha, protect Luna– mate.”

A collective understanding spreads in the room. Taehyung closes the distance between him and Alpha Chim, kissing his forehead. Yoongi follows suit and kisses the Alpha on the cheek.

“Such a good Alpha. Consoling, reassuring, and protecting her,” says Yoongi. “Thank you for stepping in for me like a proper mate, Alpha Chim.”

Alpha Chim nods and smiles brightly as his eyes bleed back into Jimin’s natural color. Looking around at the other three mates, Jimin says, “She wants a pack meeting. I think last night spooked her a bit, and Taehyung and I are to blame. Don’t worry, I will join Taehyung in servicing to compensate for it.”

A growl startles the room as it comes from Taehyung. His jaw is set firmly, and he says, “She won’t even let me service her much less adding you into it. She made her own tea or coffee or whatever she is drinking now. She didn’t even try to wake me up.”

“Does she know to wake you up?” asks Seokjin, to which Taehyung shakes his head no. “You cannot blame her for letting you sleep or do whatever then. She is human. She doesn’t want to impose more than she thinks she is already. Remember what manager-nim said.”

“Maybe this pack meeting is a good idea,” conveys Yoongi. “We may not be able to tell her she is our bondable mate right now, but maybe we can clarify more about the rights of being a pack mate she has yet to discover, like waking any of us up if she needs it.”

“Or not running away when there is skinship or intimate moments between us,” mumbles Jimin with a frown. “She ran out like the nest was on fire when Hyung woke me with kisses and a little nibble. You would have sworn he was trying to fuck me in front of her already with how she reacted.”

“You two,” Seokjin points to Yoongi and Jimin, “Go and wake the others. I will make something quick for breakfast. Taehyung, please get her out of the cold. Bring in Kook as well before he has a stroke in the bushes.”

Jungkook has inched closer to you, wanting to watch your features light up as the sun hits them. He knew you were pretty before, but seeing you as the world wakes up was something completely different.

He is going to ask for or acquire cuddles with you today. He has to. With his warm and fuzzy feelings, any other choice was not an option. Being the youngest, he typically got away with more things than the others could, and he has been happy so far that you are allowing him the amount of skinship he has taken so far without complaints.

He hopes it is because you subconsciously feel the bond, not because you see him as a namdongsaeng. He never wants you to see him in that light because it would cause more complications than anyone wants to deal with. It is already enough that all the Bangtan Pack is younger than you. You, being their noona, are sexy in the way that an oppa is sexy to younger women. Unfortunately, a dongsaeng is not sexy in any way. He wants to be sexy to you– they all do.

Taehyung watched his youngest mate feed into his animalistic side as he hopped through the bushes, his little fluffy tail twitching excitedly. He chuckled at the enormous flemish rabbit hiding in the bushes, stalking his newest mate, who was totally in another world. You must feel safe at the pack house because you seem to have lowered your guard. It fills him with pride, even if you do not realize what you are doing.

He can see your profile when he comes out of the door. Stopping his approach, he observed your micro-expressions changing as each thought must have been coiling through your mind. What had such a sobering effect on you?

He whistles as he walks to you to gain your attention without startling you. Noticing your body unconsciously tense at the sound, you look up to find him and relax with a gentle smile. He wants to puff his chest at the fact that you visibly relax with him, which means that you aren’t still mad at him, he thinks.

Apparently, today is the day for lounging and no primping, you think, as Taehyung slowly makes his way towards you with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye. He is also dressed in sleepwear, although he has now decided to wear a shirt—a flash of his toned chest filters through your mind. Trying not to blush at the memory, you smile at the tiger.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” you greet him with little puffs of breath showing in the still-chilled air.

“Morning, Dove,” replies Taehyung with a lift of his head as he steps into the pavilion. “Why are you sitting out here in the cold?”

You hear his words as you look around, trying to find the mourning dove he spoke of. Frowning, you answer, “I rarely get to see the sunrise from my packhouse. There are too many buildings around me. Plus, I needed to think about some things before the day started.”

“What’s wrong?” questions Taehyung, now looking around for whatever you are looking for, spotting Jungkook and nodding his head toward the door, hoping the little devil would take the hint to go inside already.

“The chueybird,” you say with a bit of sass because what else would you be looking for? Glancing back at the Alpha standing before you, you notice the absolute lack of understanding and giggle.

“A chueybird is what my dad used to call mourning doves. They are a part of the dove family, Columbidae. They have many names but mostly are called the American mourning dove, the rain dove, the turtle dove, and the chueybird,” you explain with a slight tint of sadness.

It isn’t often that you speak about your father. He was an ornithologist, and chueybirds, though common, were one of his favorites. They were the easiest to spot with their lovely, unique coloring. It was also the first bird your father taught you when he would take you bird-watching in the local parks.

A chuckle from Taehyung stops you from searching. Looking at him, you notice the coy smile and crescent moon eyes. “Y/n, I was calling you Dove and saying morning to you.”

You feel your eyes go almost comically wide with a flush to your cheeks as you muse, “Oh… I guess I am a morning bird but more like a terminally exhausted pigeon.”

“Are you not sleeping well?” he questions with concern as he kneels before you. His hands hold your face as he inspects to see the darkened circles under your eyes, along with their puffiness. He also notes the dryness of your skin, though it is still soft.

He thought sleeping with Jimin last night would have allowed you to sleep better, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Maybe it is because of the events with Namjoon and the nightmare that stole your resting sleep.

The warmth of his hands on your face shows just how cold you have gotten sitting outside for who knows how long. You relish in the feeling for a moment longer before you lean back, saying, “It’s normal for me, though. I haven’t been able to sleep well for a few years. Maybe when my pack is around, it’s better…”

You trail off on the thought because you know that for at least the next several weeks, you won't be able to have sleepovers with your pack while having to stay with Bangtan at their packhouse. While you knew you would be giving up on things being here, you never reasonably thought about the home life you would leave behind.

Clearing your throat, “We should maybe get inside. That is why you came out here, isn’t it? Do you have a schedule today that I need to get ready for? I forgot to check my phone.”

Moving his hands to your shoulders, Taehyung helps you stand while keeping the blanket secure. When he held your face, your lips were pale, and your skin was like ice. The tea had long gone cold and had done nothing to keep you warmed.

“I came out here because my Mistress did not wake me to prepare her tea for her or to keep her warm while she contemplated whatever it was you were contemplating in the cold morning air,” grumbles Taehyung.

Scoffing at him, you dispute with, “I’m sorry, but I am not the Idol here who needs his beauty sleep so that a galizzion bajillion stans can fawn over him, now am I?”

Taehyung’s lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed at your remark. You must have stepped over a line you didn’t understand was there. Dropping your head, you fidget by adjusting your grip on the mug, waiting for whatever harsh words he is preparing to say to you.

“It’s time to go inside. Seokjin-hyung is preparing breakfast. The rest of the pack is waiting for us, and after we eat, we will discuss a few things,” coldly informs Taehyung. “Jimin mentioned you wanted a pack meeting, and we will do that.”

Turning your shoulders towards the door, he gestures to it and says, “After you.”

Namjoon couldn’t stop watching you eat while wearing his bathrobe.

Taehyung wouldn’t let you get any of your own food, insisting he was doing this job.

Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t even look your way without blushing.

Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin were the most normal, but even then, no one really talked about anything.

You insisted on helping Seokjin and Namjoon clear the table but were abruptly stopped by Taehyung, who ushered you to the single plush chair in the living room and made you sit down. Once sitting, you found your lap instantly becoming Jungkook's pillow as Taehyung went to help in your place.

“Y/n, why are you frowning?” asks Jungkook softly, stilling his nuzzling into your plush thighs once he notices your facial expression. Looking at the soft Alpha almost half in your lap while still sitting on the floor, you run your fingers into his hair, causing his eyes to flutter slightly.

“I just feel useless right now, Thumper,” you say, moving to sit more comfortably in the armchair. “Here, come sit between my legs; it will be more comfortable for both of us.”

Jungkook’s ears stand straight up at your offer. He blushes slightly as his ears slowly fold onto his head, asking, “Are you sure, Y/n? I don… that is a very… umm… close way of cuddling.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you purse your lips at him, “Thumper, I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t comfortable with the idea. In fact, it would be nice right now to have your comfort with me or Yoongi’s, but you are here now.”

Nodding, Jungkook twisted around until he was situated between your legs with his knees to his chest. Laying his head on one thigh, he closed his eyes as you resumed finger-brushing his hair. He notes that you are careful not to touch his ears; however, you get so close that he thumps the foot on the ground and grabs your ankles.

“Hmm,” you hear over your shoulder. Turning, you see Yoongi standing just behind the chair with his eyes on your hand in his youngest mate's hair. Slowly, you remove them from the soft locks, pulling a whine from Jungkook, who looks up at you with puppy dog eyes despite the fact he is indeed a Flemish Giant Rabbit.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” comments Yoongi. “I was just wondering why you chose to sit in the chair meant for one.”

The look of, maybe, hurt in his eyes catches you off guard. Shaking your head, “It was Taehyung who sat me here. I had no choice. Then I got seat belted in by a rather large bunny.”

“Hey, you could have moved to a different seat, and I would have followed just fine, Sugar,” Jungkook says, squeezing your ankles.

You shrug and put your hands up, “I don’t know this. When an Alpha, especially one with Tae’s reputation, puts you somewhere– guess what? You stay there,” you say, looking between the two, hoping they get what you mean.

“Yeah, well, right now, it's you who is in control of said Alpha and his reputation,” Yoongi says with a scowl. “Where do you want to sit? Who do you want to sit with?”

Looking at Yoongi like he had almost lost it, Namjoon walked into the living room, followed by Seokjin and the rest. “Y/n, please sit where you want and direct the pack to where you will be most comfortable. It is you, after all, who called the pack meeting,” declared the Prime Alpha.

Your eyes go wide. You called the pack meeting? But you aren’t of a status in the pack to call meetings, right? You are temporary, and you are not the Luna here. Umm… shit. You have overstepped, which must be why breakfast was quiet.

“With your permission, Prime Alpha,” you start in an attempt to mend whatever you had done, only to be cut off by Taehyung as he storms over to you, causing Jungkook to hop out of the way comically.

Dropping to his knees, Taehyung bares his neck slightly because he still wants to look at you and says, “Y/n, my Dove, you called the meeting. Everyone within this pack has a right to call a pack meeting; this includes you. Please.”

Searching his face, you see that he is honest. A movement behind him catches your attention as you focus on seeing Jungkook follow suit and kneel with his neck fully bared to you—your mouth gaps when you hear a whine from behind Namjoon.

Looking in that direction, you see Jimin nibbling on his bottom lip, watching his two mates show signs of submission to you. Taking in the reactions of Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok, they also look worried but not.

After another beat, their eyes all snap at you.

Waiting.

While avoiding seeing Yoongi’s reactions to the unusual display, you look at Taehyung and say, “I would like us to sit comfortably.”

“How would that look to you, Y/n?” questions Hoseok.

“Well, that is a good question,” you reply. You want Yoongi with you more now than before, but you know that Taehyung’s rules require him to sit at your feet, but Jungkook was there.

“Yoongi, Jungkook, and I will sit on the long couch. Taehyung, you will take your place as you should. Then I will leave the rest of you to find your comfort among the rest of the available seating,” you say with as much confidence as a kit.

Yoongi steps around the chair and pulls you to your feet, keeping your hands connected as he follows your directions. It's like someone pushed play. Everyone starts moving without a word spoken.

Yoongi sat to your right. Jungkook sat to your left. Well, he laid down to your left with his head in your lap and pulled your good hand back to his hair with a cheeky smile. Taehyung copied Jungkook’s earlier position of sitting between your legs with one arm wrapped around your calf.

Namjoon took the single chair while Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoesok made it work on the loveseat. Once everyone settled, time seemed to halt. Everyone looked at everything but each other, and the seriousness of the meeting settled over the room.

“Y/n, have you ever held a pack meeting before?” asked Jungkook softly.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you hum, “Ah, well, yes, but never with Alpha’s.”

“It isn’t any different because we are Alpha’s,” Jungkook says encouragingly. “Just talk to us.”

“I think I would do better answering questions than just talking,” you nervously chuckle. Glancing at the three Alphas you surrounded yourself with, you felt a slight ping of hurt that you had left out the others, but they weren’t yours to gather in a puppy pile or horde like a dragon.

“Actually, Jungkook, can you sit up, please? And Taehyung, can you turn to face me?” You ask with firmness. You want to see them as they are Alpha’s. Not the cuddly bunny that had already found an express pass to skinship that you never knew you had, nor the dominating Alpha seeking forgiveness for letting his instincts control his actions when he wasn’t aware of the situation.

The others meet your gaze once they move as you requested, ending with Namjoon. You look at the Prime Alpha with a look you hope conveys the topic you will bring up. He nods once, slowly.  Glancing back at Jimin, you are met with a warm smile because he is the one who gave you the idea to do this.

Well, here goes nothing.

“I wanted to have this pack meeting to tell you all something about me and my past simultaneously,” you start, albeit shakily.

Yoongi squeezes your knee, pulling your attention. “You only have to share what you think you need to, nothing more, nothing less.”

“We may ask questions,” interjects Hoseok. “But you don’t have to answer if you are uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, Hoseok,” you smile. “I will try to be as clear as possible. I ask that you wait till I finish before asking questions, if possible?”

Everyone nods, settling into an attentive stance. Their eyes look concerned but patient. Jungkook has scooched a hair closer to you. Yoongi already had his leg pressed against yours, even with him angled as he is to be able to look at you. Taehyung looked slightly conflicted with himself. It wasn’t until you shifted your leg forward to where it brushed his crisscrossed legs that he settled down.

Looking at your lap, you fiddled with your brace as you started.

“My history hasn’t been one of hearts, stars, horseshoes, rainbows, and balloons. It’s been more of bruises, beatings, blood, abuse, and assault. Jimin was unfortunate enough to hear some of what happened when he woke me from my nightmare last night, which is why you found him in my room, Seokjin.

“I know you all know a little because of my medical check-up being in the contract, and Namjoon knows a bit more because I shared it with him last night. I figured it would be good for all of you to know. This way, everyone is informed equally, and I would only really have to tell all of it at once.”

You could hear movements rustling at the implications of your words, but you didn’t dare look to see who was getting antsy or what may have happened because you just needed to keep going.

“I guess I should start at the beginning. I am the youngest of two. My older brother is somewhat of a modern-day gypsy and hikes anywhere, sleeping in a tent, has shaggy hair, is built like a Mac truck, and takes odd jobs. According to my mother, he is living his dreams of being an explorer to help chart nearly impossible things for the advancement of environmental sciences. He does that, too, but it's just his way of escaping her.

“My mother is a socialite. She has never worked a day in her life and never will. She comes from old money and married my father because he was in her social standing to do as such. I am pretty sure she never really loved him, but my father thought the world of her.

“He is a scientist who studies birds. He taught my brother and me basic respect for hybrids, animal rights, and survival methods for backpacking. Last I knew… he was in a different country, so he couldn’t take us with him, besides the fact that my mother wouldn’t let him during the divorce. She said he was too wild to be a proper parental figure.

“As for me, I have never been a thin, lean female growing up. Like my brother, I got my stockiness and size from my father. My father said it just meant that I was sturdy enough for childbearing, but my mother said it was because I had too much of my father in me. She would throw me into the latest dieting or workout trend as if I were some pseudo-celebrity who needed to maintain a particular look.

“I was quickly the target of bullies as early as grade school due to my physical build and hitting puberty earlier than the rest of the class. I could never go to my mother about these issues because I was bringing them on myself. It was always met with cold shoulders, stricter diets, and harsher workouts.

“I didn’t understand how warm a hug was until Evie came into my life. I learned some skinship pack behaviors from the Foust Pack, but humans didn’t readily accept that amount of cuddling. When I hit high school, it only got worse when I would try to do the skinship with new human friends. So, my mother and her sister taught me to use my feminine wiles and skinship behaviors to get the attention of desirable sons of her country club.

“It worked like a drug with those high society boys. They enjoyed the tastefully revealing clothes and the looseness of my inhibitions as they called them. My aunt and mother said they were just showing me affection and that I should be grateful for any type of acknowledgment that I could get. If I mentioned it was uncomfortable, it was because I was ungrateful.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath to gather where you want to head next with the conversation, you note the air is burnt and stormy all at once. It stills you, your brain registering that you are surrounded by very, very unhappy Alphas, which causes you to squirm in your seat.

Glancing up, you meet Taehyung’s eyes briefly and note they are streaked with crystal blue. It's a startling sight that causes you to look around at the rest of the Alphas to find they are the same. Their eyes are fractured between their natural human colors and their Alpha eyes. It looks like lightning for some, and others are split in half or with one eye of each color.

The squeeze of your ankle pulls your widened eyes back to Taehyung. He shakes his head slowly and tilts his head forward. The rest of the room remains silent.

Diverting your eyes back to your hands, you fiddle with the sash to your, Namjoon’s, robe and continue your story:

“In high school, when things would get nasty with the vulgar name-calling, slut shaming, and pranks my classmates would pull, it was harder for me to follow my mother’s rule to tear down the blanket fort. She would catch me and call me things like mongrel or filthy pack-rat.

“My grandmother, meemaw, was the same way. She used to throw me in the closet for the weekend if she found it. She made me swear that I would keep what she was doing a secret. She would do… things to me if I either left the fort up too late or told anyone of the closet, but she passed away about five years ago.

“As some of you know, my mother would follow Meemaw’s lead and make me tear down the fort. She wouldn’t go as far as the closet but do other restrictions or punishments to remind me of my place and worth within the family. She would have had a cow if she knew I had a fort at Evie’s house to use whenever I wanted. The habit of tearing it down is still with me to the point that, even now, I know it is still up and shouldn’t be– according to my mother.

“Aside from the restrictive socialite type raising to be prim, proper, and human, my mother was insistent on having me marry someone of stature and 100% human. Ultimately, she was delighted that I met Eric because he was from a high social class. His parents were chiefs of their respective departments at the hospital. The biggest bonus was that Eric wasn’t a hybrid.

“After my very short-lived rebellion stage and deciding to date an Omega Polar Bear hybrid, she thought he was my forever. Eric was perfect– at first. I guess that should have been my first red flag. He helped my mother when she was ill and bought her a condo when we got engaged. He was so kind, respectful, attentive, but that changed.

“It started with underhanded and crooked compliments, leaving bruises from harsh grabbing to busted lips due to backhands. He was always forgiven because, according to my family, I should have apologized for doing whatever it was that was pushing him to that level of anger.

“I was with him for a long time. I thought he loved me because he got me gifts and would take pleasure in me whenever he wanted to. After we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant and was at seven weeks. I was so happy.

“I just knew that this news of a baby would make Eric happy with me again. He would treat me better because we had proof of our love. When I told him, he reacted like I had told him that I gave him every STD known and unknown to man. This was after waiting hours for him to come home from work at 2 am because he was out having drinks with the boys.

“He punched me for the first time that night, right in the stomach where the baby was. Then he pushed outside and down the stairwell, screaming at me about how ugly, fat, and pathetic I was. He even told me to get rid of the devil’s spawn that I was carrying. I ran. Left everything behind. Evie took me to the hospital, and I ended up with two fractured ribs, an ankle sprain, and a miscarriage.”

By this point, a thrum of energy had filled the room. Barely withheld growls could be heard by only those in the room. The pack remained this way for an unknown amount of time.

Each hybrid takes in what they hear, all of them struggling with their Alpha to not go and hunt down Eric, your mom… Oh, hell, your whole family.

“Sugar,” Jungkook starts gently speaking to you as if you were a piece of glass about to break. “Thank you for telling us everything. I don’t want to diminish what you said, and I am sure some of us have questions for you, but can I share something with you first?”

You nod, grateful for the attention to be off you for the moment.

“You know the age-old saying about fucking like bunnies?” he questions with his ears coming to stand straight up on his head, attentively listening to your reactions.

“Yeah, it’s derogatory now, though,” you answer with a confused but concerned look.

Jungkook smiles at your expression, “It is now, but it isn’t inaccurate. See, I was raised in a fluffle that was a feeder to a large underground brothel. I have more brothers, sisters, and half-siblings than I could name or care to remember. The Madam used rabbit hybrids because we have a short refractory period, and our Omegas have heats up to twice a month. So, it wasn’t hard for them to accept the attention of the trick they were assigned to.”

“I presented as an Alpha Buck, around nine years old. This came as a shock because most rabbit hybrids are Betas or Omegas. I was trained in etiquette and sexual practices right away because I was so rare and would fetch a high price. I was to be used for the elite clients only and allowed to go out on dates with tricks like an escort service,” continued Jungkook, his ears twitching with each of your micro reactions.

“Jungkook, you were so young,” you mumble. He reaches out, offering you his hand, which you take instantly. You are not sure if it is him or you who is seeking the connection of comfort from the other.

“I was in the eyes of the human world. As a hybrid, it isn’t considered traditionally taboo once we present. Just like puberty signals humans that the physical body is ready for mating. It works similarly in the hybrid world, except we follow a more animalistic view and start mating or seeking a bonded mate at that age. However, with the new human laws that help protect hybrids, it is considered illegal,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand.

“I didn’t know about the new hybrid laws because my fluffle had been a part of the underground brothel for several generations. Laws meant nothing to Madam, which meant they were worthless for us to know,” he continued.

“When our agency bought me to become a trainee and ultimately join Bangtan Pack as an Idol, it took a while for the hyungs to get me to understand that we were actually real mates and not to see them as another trick or to think that they weren’t seeing me as a pseudo-Omega. Mates, especially bonded mates, aren’t typical for rabbit hybrids because we have difficulty sticking to a single partner. I think that is why I was lucky enough to have six of them. They showed me what it meant to be a mate, to be loved, to be cherished, and to be protected,” he smiled at each of them before settling his eyes back on you.

“I understand what it means to be groomed into what someone else wants you to be and not be allowed to be comfortable in your skin, Y/n. You don’t have to be what your mother wants you to be, what your aunt or grandmother forced you to act like. With us, you can find who you want to be.” Jungkook leans forward, one of his ears folding in half as he looks at you and says, “You can be as cuddly as a kitty or solitary as a wolverine, and we will all be by your side along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle slightly as you say, “I don’t think you would make a week without cuddles, Mr. Sneaky.”

“Hey! I can go without cuddling for a week. I am not the one who has been holding on to you this whole meeting, am I?” the bunny says, sticking his tongue out at Taehyung, who playfully sticks his out in return.

“Let’s not get into who is more cuddlier than the other right now. This is a pack meeting with serious topics,” interrupts the Prime Alpha. “Y/n, thank you for sharing everything with us. I knew some of it from the contract and what you shared last night, but I can see it's much more than I even thought of.”

“Dear, are you… do you have anything… have we done anything to upset you?” asks Seokjin.

You blush at his question because it’s not that they have ever upset you. They listened when you have spoken up so far, but there are still blurred lines that you are nervous about talking about.

“Wait, before you answer that, can I ask what happened this morning?” Jimin jumps in with puppy-dog eyes. “I thought everything was good with us sleeping together in your nest, but then you bolted.”

“WHAT!?!” screeches Hoseok and Namjoon.

You immediately pale at their reactions and shrink into a smaller ball, pulling out of Taehyung’s grip and curling your knees to your chest. Your scent turns with bergamot that you went too far and crossed a boundary in your panic after the nightmares.

A growl from your side snaps everyone out of the now-resounding commotion of trying to explain what had happened between you and Jimin in the middle of the night.

“Cut. It. Out,” declares Yoongi. “You guys are acting as if the two of them sharing a nest is scandalous when, in fact, it is a very positive action for the two of them! It has been ages since Jimin has built a nest for anyone outside of the pack nest, and for Y/n to accept it plus invite him to share it with her for whatever her reason was… that is a step forward we all want.”

Muffled by your face buried in your knees, you ask tentatively, “You want that?

Yoongi softly runs his hand over your back, “Yes, Princess. I am sorry we haven’t been as clear as we should have been, but I know I am not good with words unless it’s a rap.”

“Doll,” calls Hoseok. “Can you look at me?”

You tilt your head just enough to see the marten hybrid move Jimin onto Seokjin’s lap as he leans toward you, his hands clasped lightly together. You have seen the look on his face in the rare Teacher Jung videos right before he is about to get strict with the dancers for messing up the choreography.

“There are those beautiful eyes,” he says with a smile that momentarily softens the intense look. “We have done much of this out of order– like all of it. We need to discuss boundaries with you. Since we are an established pack, we easily forget that you are new, not only to Alphas but to Bangtan.”

“Hoseok-hyung is right,” adds Namjoon. “We should have said most of this before the contract was signed, but it wouldn’t change anything.”

You lift your head farther up to see the seriousness of the pack. “I would like boundaries or more like… protocols,” you agreed.

“Protocols?” questions Taehyung. Being the most dominant of the Alphas in the pack, protocols are typically within his realm of declarations.

You nod, clarifying, “Yeah. Protocols, rules, or whatever you want to call them, but with certain situations.”

“Situations like this morning with Jimin-hyung?” pushes the tiger sitting before you.

“That is one of them, yeah. I would like to know what I am supposed to do when you guys want time together or when things get intense. Then there are the times, also like this morning, when I am getting up and need something or when I wa… or whatnot,” you elaborate before you sputter your words because you didn’t know how to ask for private time.

“Let’s start with that then,” Namjoon guides, letting your stumble slide for now. “We always want time together because we are bonded mates, Angel.”

“Joon-ah, she is talking about when we want to be more intimate,” Seokjin speaks up. “This morning, Jiminnie was trapping her in the nest, and I used more intimate means to get our cuddly panda to let go.”

“Oh, would this also be about times like when we kiss each other and flirt?” questions Jungkook.

By this time, your face blushes into a beautiful rose color, and you nod, “Yes, that. Those times. The times that should be privately held.”

Hoseok chuckles, “But we are in private, Doll. All those actions have happened within the packhouse, have they not?”

“Well… yes, they have, but I was there when two of you kissed in a sweet moment over the top of me, and then it was something heated and not so innocent with those two this morning,” you whine.

“What did you want to happen then, Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, his eyes slightly darkened with remembering your scent turning to arousal as you watched them.

“I wanted to,” you gulp. “I wanted to do what was comfortable for your mates. I don’t want to stay for something I shouldn’t be.”

“So, you wanted to stay?” Seokjin asks with a finality that makes the question almost irrelevant. 

The slip-up in your wording, of course, gets caught before you can save yourself. All you can do is widen your eyes at this implication because that is precisely what you wanted to do, but you don’t want to say it because you don’t have that kind of relationship with them like that.

“Enough, guys,” Hoseok steps in and looks at Namjoon. “Prime Alpha, do you oppose Y/n being present when affection is shared between us?”

“I do not,” answers the wolf hybrid. “I think the pack would enjoy it if you stayed, Y/n.”

A mummer of agreement comes from the rest of the pack, causing your jaw to drop and for you to ask, “You want me to be there? Like ogling you as if you were in a movie?”

“You can watch or tell us what you want to see,” Jungkook says with a slightly rough voice.

“You can even move us how you want us,” suggests Taehyung. “It’s more fun when everyone present is involved anyways, isn’t it?”

You sputter at the thought, your mind throwing you back to this morning and the possibility that you could have joined in. You glance at the two cuddled on the couch. Seokjin has the small Alpha in his lap. You can see they are both thinking at the same time you are. Their eyes are equally dark as Seokjin raises his eyebrow at you. You know he is implying something, but you look away quickly.

Your eyes come to meet Namjoon, who seems to know something transpired between the three of you. He says, “Are you okay with this boundary, or do you want us to hide our intimacy behind doors?”

Frowning at his question, you take a moment. Do you want them to hide from you? You are in their pack house, and it is their one safe space to be a mate-bonded pack.

Did you want to take that freedom away from them?

“I don’t want to take your spontaneity away from you and make you stay behind closed doors. I am okay with those boundaries, but I want to reserve the ability to walk away without hurting anyone’s feelings,” you agree conditionally.

“I think we can accept that,” says Yoongi.

Nodding, you add, “It has been a while since I have been around such intimate gestures, and sometimes it becomes overwhelming for me– like the skinship thing.”

“Does that mean we can still get head scritches and cuddles?” asks Jungkook.

“What do you mean we? You are the only one who has gotten any of that,” whines Taehyung.

You giggle at the comment and join in, “The Tigger tiger has a point there, Thumper. You seemed to have found a fast pass to all of that.”

“Tigger? Did you just call me Tigger? After that stuffed toy thingy from the American Honey Bear cartoon?” Taehyung glares at you.

“What? Sorry. You reminded me of him when you came bouncing sleepily into my room yesterday with your hair all flouncy and bouncy,” you giggle more as the others join in.

“So, you have a Tigger, Thumper, and Kisa. When do the rest of us get nicknames?” asks Hoseok with a pout. “You are already my Doll.”

“Huh?” you look at him questioningly. “But Seokjin has called me a doll, too.”

“He did what?” Teacher Hoseok, who now you are figuring is more like Alpha Hope, slowly turns his head to the offending mate.

“It was an accident! I didn’t realize you had claimed Y/n as that,” pouts the eldest, acting more like the youngest. “I will only use Dear from now, I promise.”

“You better, hyung or not. We will talk later about you using the wrong claim,” says Hoseok.

“Sugar,” Jungkook pulls your attention to him. “We each have nicknames that we use with each other. Back when you went out with Seokjin-hyung, it was decided in private that we would each claim a nickname for you.”

“I take it your nickname for me is Sugar?” you question, and Jungkook confirms.

“I call you Princess. Hoseok is Doll with Seokjin now as Dear,” adds Yoongi.

“I call you Naekkeo,” says Jimin.

Taehyung grabs your ankles and pulls them back to his lap, “You are my Dove.”

You look to Namjoon, and he smiles, “You got named my Angel last night, Y/n.”

“Oh,” you nibble your lower lip. You are embarrassed but in a loving way, which you have never felt before. Pouting, you comment, “You all already have something picked out for me, but I haven’t figured one for all of you.”

“You don’t need to have them all picked out. They will come out eventually,” says Namjoon. “But back on topic, Taehyung wanted to talk to you about something of concern.”

Your eyes drop to the tiger, giving you a soft massage of your calves.

“Well, other than explaining how you slept with Jimin to the rest of the pack, why did you not wake me this morning when you got up? Again?” asks Taehyung.

You blush again for who knows how many times this meeting at Taehyung’s choice of wording before you respond saying, “Jimin can explain how he ended up in my bed… wait, that sounds just as bad as sleeping with him. We just had a sleepover, more or less.”

“As for you this morning, I told you that I wanted to let you get your sleep. I know how crazy your schedules can be, and I didn’t want to steal the extra time from you,” you answered.

“Y/n. You never need to be alone or let us sleep if you need something. For one, right now, I am at your service. For two, Yoongi-hyung is supposed to be helping because of your hand. For three, well, you shouldn’t hesitate to wake us, ask us questions, ask for something, or, heck, you could have even crawled into bed with one of us if you needed more sleep since you had two horn dogs in your nest.”

Shaking your head, smiling, “I wasn’t chased out of bed this morning. I left because I didn’t know what to do.”

Your eyes drop to your lap as you ponder how to word your next question. Not long before, a black tail goes under your chin, pulling you from your thoughts to look at Yoongi.

“What has you thinking so hard?” inquires the jaguar.

“If... If I were to want some private time, how would I go about that?” you ask, tentatively keeping eye contact with Yoongi. Your breath is just a hint more shallow than before.

“Private time?” asks Hoseok. “Mostly, we just close our den doors, but we never lock them in case of an emergency. I thought that was pretty obvious. Aren’t most households like that?”

Your blush deepens because Hoseok’s innocence shows, making you feel a bit pervy that you are asking what you are asking.

Yoongi is studying your face, eyes, and posture. He sees the micro changes in your expression, the emotions playing behind your eyes, and the subtle movement of your thighs as you ask your question and listen to Hoseok’s reply.

“Are you worried that we might… hear something, Princess?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

Your gulp alone is enough to answer his question. He smiles, saying, “Princess, you don’t need to worry about private times like that. It’s natural and healthy for you to have them, so it’s nothing to be shy about. We may be Alphas; we may be flirty– some of us more than others, and we may be hybrids with excellent hearing, but we won’t listen to you on purpose.”

“Jungkook does,” you whisper.

“Ah, no, he doesn’t,” comments Jungkook. “I only heard you mumbling rather loudly to yourself about something dealing with the sheet or pillow or something, which is why I sent your servant boy to you.”

Clearing his throat, Namjoon speaks up, “Y/n, we are all adults here. The quietest room in the pack house is the pack nesting room because it has soundproofing. With your den down here, hearing certain pitches would be more challenging. You would be safe in your den if you want to handle those urges alone.”

In Namjoon’s head and the rest of Bangtan, the images of you ‘handling’ those urges course through them. They couldn’t wait until the day, night, or afternoon when you wouldn’t feel the need to hide those sounds from them or when you would be making those sounds from under or on top of them, well, just anywhere as long as it was because of them.

A soft growl comes from Taehyung, who still massages your calf, and asks, “Dove, do you have what you need to deal with those– urges?”

Arousal shoots through your body at his question. Fuck is the first thing you can think. No, you don’t have things to help with that, and you were right-handed, but you weren’t thinking about actually doing anything inside the pack house.

Maybe.

However, when Taehyung asked that question, your lovely mind decided you had 70 fingers, seven mouths, and seven… yeah, no, you physically shake your head, trying to get the thoughts away. Your scent long gave away your train of thought to the hybrids surrounding you.

Jimin wriggled in Seokjin’s lap as he felt the eldest’s member start to harden, along with his own, in reaction to your scent, causing their pajama pants to feel too tight.

Taehyung’s grip tightened into a deeper massage on your calves.

Yoongi and Jungkook squirmed in their seats, glancing at each other with heat before focusing back on you.

Namjoon licked his lips as if he could taste your scent.

“Taehyung, that is not a question that I would think that Y/n is comfortable enough answering, nor does she have to,” Hoseok informs, giving you an out despite his desire to know just how you would want to handle yourself right now.

“Ah,” you gulp again, looking at Hoseok. “Thank you, Hoseok. I will figure it all out, Taehyung.”

With a slightly deeper push of Taehyung’s fingers against the inside of your ankle with one hand while the other pressed from the middle of the sole to the pad of your foot, causing an electric shock of pleasure to run from the base of your spine to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter at the feeling.

 “Remember, if you need… anything… I can always help you out,” coys the tiger. “I give excellent massages and know all the right pressure points.”

You, slower than you will ever admit, pull yourself out of the hold he has on your foot as you glance around the living room, waiting for someone to protest Taehyung’s very blatant offer to help you sexually, but none comes.

Not trusting your voice, you nod and stand up, pointing to your room. Then you blanche and hope Taehyung doesn’t take it as if you are accepting the offer. Looking at Namjoon with a question-filled face, he smiles and nods, to which you, not so subtly, walk with haste and shut the door.

Fucking hell.

They mentioned that the Maknae line was the horny or flirty part of Bangtan, but this was…You said the youngest trio needed a bucket of ice water earlier, but maybe you were the one who needed the bucket.

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[foulwitchknight]

Omega Steve keeps his relationship with Eddie a secret because he’s scared his pack wouldn’t approve. Eddie is really respected and loved by the pack especially the younger members. He’s scared that they won’t think he’s good enough for the Alpha because of his past. He still feels like King Steve has a lot to atone for. He doesn’t know his pack has been devising a plan for months to get Steve and Eddie together because they think they are perfect for each other .

[straw-eri-chan]

What makes a pack?

"Sorry I'm late."

"Baby bird!" Dick chirped in delight as Tim finally entered the cave, ten minutes late. "What took you?"

He was already in the Robin uniform, but looked a little ruffled and tired. He smelled like a mix of scents, except for his own, due to the scent blockers they wore in uniform. The omega part of Dick hated not being able to smell his brother, but the logical side chided himself for thinking such things. It was necessary for a secret identity.

"I was with Young Justice." Tim said offhandedly, restocking his utility belt.

"This late?" Dick questioned with a raised brow. "Why weren't they all at home?"

"Well the mountain is Kon and Bart's home." Tim said, not seeming bothered by this detail and instead looking back at Dick with a neutral expression. "And the girls like being at the mountain to soothe their instincts like I do."

Like he does? Tim goes to the mountain to soothe his instincts? Sure, Dick knew Tim just had his dad around, but surely it was still comforting to be in his own home. Or at least the manor. He must have been doing a bad job as the pack omega for Tim not to feel welcome. 

"You could always come here to soothe your instincts, you know. On weekends at least." Dick reminded him. Tim looked mildly amused behind the mask, and shrugged. 

"Yeah, I guess. But you guys aren't my pack."

What?!

[chocobochaserstories]

Pack Dynamics

Overview

Historically, a pack is a group of omegas, alphas, and betas who live together, raise children as a family, and share the same space or territory. In modern times, a pack is generally comprised of a polyamorous relationship with at least 3-5 main members, not including children. A pack may contain alphas, betas, and omegas, or any combination of the three. A balanced pack will contain one alpha, one omega, and the rest beta, however in modern day this is not true in most cases. 

Alphas

Alphas in a pack are most superior of the ranks, and carry out roles such as leadership, paternal roles, and decision making for the pack. Generally, only the alphas are allowed to inseminate the omegas or betas. In a pack with more than one alpha, there is always a lead alpha or a head alpha, and other alphas submit to that head alpha.

Betas

Betas, when in a pack, serve as diplomats and mediators, however they still submit to the pack’s alphas. Betas are not always marked by the pack’s alphas or omegas, but are always scented. Generally, betas serve as a safe place for omegas when they can’t access their nest. In a healthy pack, alphas are not permitted to force their presence onto an omega if the omega wants to be with the pack betas. Betas also help raise pups and handle homeschooling if done by the pack. 

Omegas

Omegas in a pack are the focus of the pack. Everyone in the pack revolves around the omegas. There is generally one omega in a smaller pack, but it’s not uncommon to have more than one. Omegas in a pack generally experience their heats together (in sync) and will spend those periods in each other’s company. Alphas may or may not have their ruts syncronized. Omegas cluster together by nature, and this is true in the pack. Omegas are the members of the pack that nurture everyone else. They will scent other members and keep the pack in good health. An ill member of the pack will stress out an omega. Omegas also are tasked with providing the pack with young. In a pack with omegas and betas, generally only the omegas have pups. When one omega falls pregnant, they’ll often trigger the heats of the other omegas. This is for two reasons: One, from an evolutionary standpoint. Two, from a social standpoint. Historically, omegas in a pack would not have all of their pups survive to adulthood (Disease, predators, injuries, etc). This is mitigated nowadays due to modern society and healthcare. From a social standpoint, several pups born at the same/similar times creates a healthy social heirarchy to grow up with. The pups will have others their age from birth, which fosters interactions such as speech, play behavior, and healthy immune development that a child born as the only pup in a pack would not get until entering preschool (around age four-ish).

Visual Representation: