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igotanidea · 2 years ago

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A conflict of interest: Matt Murdock x reader

Story inspired by @fyeahlitaajpunk:

I need fics where you’re dating Matt Murdock and are best friends with Pug 🥰😫

So there you go. I had so much fun writing this :D

honorary tag goes to @anothersworld

@pinksirensong don't know how you fell about MCU, but I quote you "I want to be tagged in everything", and I keep that words carved in mind :D (let me know if that changed, tho I hope not)

Feedback is always apreciated.

masterlist:

pairing: Matt Murdock x f!reader

word count: 4.908

warnings: all of them - angst, fluff, Matt being himself, Pug being himself, reader being a soft mess

A conflict of interest

- What are you working on? – my best friend, a hell of good lawyer and the greatest supporter of woman’s right I know, Augustin Pugliese, aka Pug plumped down into a couch in my office.

- Same old stuff. Someone has to deal with the boring shit, like contracts and GDPR.

- Oh, we both know you love it.

- I do – I nodded – but wouldn’t mind some superhero stuff from time to time. And speaking of the devil, how is she?

-She?

-Oh, don’t pretend, Pug, you know who I’m talking about - I rolled my eyes at him– Jennifer Walters, the She-hulk. I saw you running into her office with a welcoming basket.

-She’s amazing, YN, I’m telling you. Both as a lawyer and a person. Funny, charming, professional…

-Should I know about something going on? – I grinned tilting my head slightly.

-What…? No, YN! You know me better than that!

- I do and that’s why I feel inclined to ask. You are a charming one, so....

- She would be great addition to the team, that’s all I’m saying. And a good friend…

-Which you have already made, didn’t you? You make perfect good impression and it’s get better in time.

-I did not make a very nice good impression on you, did I? – he smirked and I just smiled while sitting down on the sofa next to him.

- A bit of a scatterbrain at the time, but I wouldn’t call it bad.

I met Pug when we were in law college. After all, this is the place where most future professional contacts are made, but from the very beginning we both knew there would be more to it. The thing was, we couldn’t have been more different. While he was open, warm, always ready to help and was practically an open book, I was more of an reserved introvert with my own world inside and apparently a plan to rule the world in the next 10 years (his words, not mine). Up to college I was rather careful with letting people in, but with Pug… a completely different story. Our first meeting was quite painful since we were living in the opposite rooms and narrow hallways are not helpful when it comes to moving around. So, while we were bringing our things in and out, we bumped into each other, head on.

-Oh, I’m so sorry – he started – are you ok?

-Don’t know. Does that count as an assault?

-I hope not, wouldn’t like you to press charges – he smiled – I’m Pug.

-Pug? That’s a short form, isn’t it?

-Augustus – he looked down slightly embarrassed.

-You’re Italian, then?

-I am. But to anticipate your question I’m not …..

-I wasn’t going to ask anything stereotypical. I hate typecasting. – I rolled my eyes. – So, considering that this bump was partially my fault can we both move on? You are not hurt, are you?

-Nah, I’m fine. I’ll let you go with a warning – he flashed a smile and I smirked – I don’t think you told me your name, miss …..?

-YN. And please, please, no miss. It’s a bit downgrading when a man calls you that.

-Is it? – he hesitated – you know what, you are right, I’m sorry YN. Would you like to have a pizza as some sort of apologies?

-I’m not going to say no. But…

-We’ll share the cost. No worries. I never make the same mistake twice. – he smiled and I reciprocated. We were definitely on a path to being friends.

***

A year later

Ever since the first day we became inseparable. Some of the students were even calling us a couple when they were seeing us at the cafeteria studying and teasing each other or when we were hanging out at the park, my head rested on his shoulder. The case was however very, very different, since Pug had no intention of getting into romantic relationship (though I could not understand why since he was the book definition of a boyfriend material) and when it came to me… Well, I had my eyes somewhere different. To be precise, on a very particular fourth and final year law student with wanton ego, quite a reputation, hell of a brain and a signature smirk. Matt Murdock. Since he was two years older than me I did not have many reasons to talk to him.

-He is trouble you know that. – Pug nudged my side when he saw me drifting off during a lecture.

-The professor? – I asked dumbfounded

-No silly, Murdock.

-How did you…..?

-I know you well enough to understand the reason of your daydreaming during lecture.

-That is not true. I’m completely focused.

-Miss YN – our chitchatting just had to capture the attention of the lecturer – would you mind answering the question I just asked?

-I…. I …. – I stuttered while Pug was desperately trying to hold back his laugh.

-My best student… - the teacher sighed – I must ask you to leave the auditorium and wait outside. I’ll talk to you after the class .

I just stood up there with my mouth open in utter shock, while Pug swiftly gathered all my things and with worried expression handed me the bag.

-I’ll find you later . I’m sorry YN – he whispered when I passed him to get to the door.

Shit! For the first time in my life I was kicked out of the classroom. I would blame Pug, but it wasn’t his fault. Or at least, not fully his fault. Frustrated I plumped onto the window sill.

-Are you ok? – I turned around to see the person who was the reason of my lack of concentration.

-Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?

-You know, I may be blind, but I have a pretty good hearing.

-And…? – I asked flatly as he took a step forward

-And I can tell your heartbeat is a bit too fast, so once again – are you ok?

-Well, I’m healthy if that’s your concern.

-Good to know. You’re YN, right?

-And you are Matt Murdock. – he smirked upon my words.

-So, you’ve heard about me.

- Yes. From all the broken - hearted girls you left behind. Aren’t you a bit too smart to be such a player?

-You think I’m smart?

-I think you have an annoying habit of answering a question with a question.

-Isn’t that a lawyer thing? – he smirked and I groan at his response – may I? – he pointed to a spot next to me and as I allowed he sat down.

-I’ve heard about you YN. You are pretty smart yourself. Winning a moot court, getting a scholarship and an internship at one of the most prestigious law firm in New York. Quite impressive. If you’d like me and my friend Foggy are going out tonight. You may join. Oh, and that friend of yours, Pug, isn’t it? He may join. I hope I’ll ….

-See me? – I smirked

-Hear from you – he smirked back and walked away, a second before Pug came out of the classroom.

- What happened? – my best friend seems confused at my puzzled expression.

-I’m not entirely sure, but I guess we are going out tonight.

***

Two months later

We did in fact went out. And then again and again until it became regular habit. Some times we were hanging out with Foggy and Pug, since netiher Matt nor me wanted to leave one's best friend behind. I was getting back to dorm from a meeting with Matt (since we both decided it was not a date), which left me in unusually good mood and with a lot of thoughts.

-Did you guys kiss?

-Ah! Pug, what the hell!? – my best friend was sitting on a bed in my dorm in complete darkness, a look of curiosity and anticipation on his face.

- Did you?

- What kind of question is that?! What happened to “I support woman’s independence” attitude? Oh, God, who am I kidding? Yes,yes, we did – I blushed and looked down a bit embarassed

-Oh, that’s wonderful – he jumped up and hugged me – but I’m still concerned and sure he is trouble. Either way, I know you can handle anything and if you can’t …

-I know, I know. I can ask you for help. Thank you, Pug, I appreciate it, but I’m genuinely happy.

-And I’m happy for you.

-So, now we need to find a girlfriend for you, my dear friend....

-Since when are you a matchmaker?!

***

Thanks to some magic, I managed to keep up my friendship with Pug and my relationship with Matt. These two were the pillars of my life, literally. Of course, I could never be a damsel in distress and I was handling my shit by myself but at the end of the day it was nice to have someone to talk to. Short before graduating me and Pug got a job at Goodman, Liber, Kurtzberg and Holliway, one of the best and biggest law firm in States. I clearly remember how shaky were my legs when we walked towards the board where the list of admitted were published. Matt was holding my hand and gently rubbing my palm with his thumb to calm me down while Pug was pacing nervously, clutching on my other arm. I was head over heels happy upon noticing that we were both hired. I immediately jumped into Matt’s arms and felt him holding me by my waist close to his chest and his fast beating heart.

- I am so proud of you – he whispered quietly, kissing me gently not having a care in the world who may be watching – I told you, you are a smartass. Congratulations to you to, Pug – he turned his head towards the other man.

-Thanks Murdock, I appreciate it. But… you know, there’s one tiny problem.

-And what is that? – I asked still glued to Matt

-We got a job in Los Angeles branch of GLK&D.

-What? Are you for real? – I yanked myself free and run towards the board to see with my own eyes, unwanted tears falling down. –It’s true – I sobbed as I realized it was more than 40 hours away from Hell’s Kitchen where Matt and Foggy were running their practice. I turned around so that none of them would see my state but they knew. Pug grabbed my hand in reassurance and Matt’s hand sneaked around my waist. With anyone else this would be extremely awkward but not with them.

-We can make it work – Matt whispered kissing my temple – we can do it YN.

-Can we? I don’t have much experience with long – distance relationship, but ….

-I can give you a few examples – Pug smiled – like that one case we worked on when husband was living in Belgium and the wife in England.

- Brown and Novak? – Matt completed and Pug snapped his finger in agreement.

-Or the one when the girl was from Poland and was only a guest in her boyfriend home in Rome. And they made it work .

- Hold on, guys. The Brown and Novak was a divorce case, remember? – I reminded them and their faces immediately dropped – and the second one was in fact about the girl running around the Europe like crazy and only getting tired which led to her mental disorder.

-Well, um… - Pug muttered searching for some conforming words.

-We are not them YN. We can make it work. I promise. You’re not getting away from me, so easily.

-Is that a promise of a lawyer, Murdock?

-Sure as hell it is.

***

-You take care of her there, Pug. If anything happens, I'm coming for you - Matt warned the other man as we were about to check-in to a plane.

-Matt !- I shoved him playfully - behave! It's my best friend you are threatening now, councellor.

-Forgive me your honor - Murdock smirked - I rest my case.

-Good. I would hate to have a quarrel with you now.

-No worries, Murdock. I will watch over her.

-I don't need. ......

-Supervison. We know - they both said in unison.

-Precisely. If anything, I will have to watch your back, Pug.

-It's mutual care taking then. Anyway, I guess I'll see you when you come visit, Murdock - Pug said - I'll give you some space for goodbyes now. - he added while walking towards the check-in.

-Call me when you arrive. The very minute you arrive.- Matt grabbed my waist and whispered into my ear while pulling me close and breahing me in.

-And how will you know the exact minute? - I teased closing my eyes and enjoying his warm embrace.

-Super hearing, remember? - he smirked

-From a different state?

-When it comes to you, I'll find you anywhere - his soft lips finally found mine and we got lost in the moment.

***

Again, thanks to some supernatural powers, we did made it work long distance. Of course there were bad moments, since we weren’t even in the same time zone. The worst thing was probably one time when I came to visit Matt in Hell’s kitchen for a weekend. I was ready for some intimate time with him, since it was a while since, but what I stumbled upon halted all my romantics. When I entered his flat calling his name, I only heard a groan from the couch. Matt was laying there with cuts and bruises all over his chest and abdomen.

-What happened? –I asked sitting on the edge of the sofa and keeping my cold blood. Some practice as a lawyer was infinitely helpful when it came to emotion control.

-I got into a fight. – he mumbled and tried to lift himself up – don’t worry about it. I missed you – he leaned forward and captured my lips with his. For a second I was lost in the feeling I was deprived of for so long. His hands were on my waist trying to hold me closer and I immidiately wanted more but when we moved he gasped in pain again and I pulled off.

-Trying to trick me into backing off from the questions, attorney? Not a chance. You are going to tell me everything. And I mean, everything, Matt. No bullshit.

- YN….

-Mattie – only I was allowed to use this nickname and it always made him soft – please, tell me – my lips were now on his cheek, my nose gently rubbing his skin and he stopped breathing indulging in the feeling, mouth slighly open. I could almost see the wheels turing in his brain.

-And who is trying to charm their way now? Your heart is beating fast, you know – he moved his head slightly so our lips were almost touching . A war of nerves and character.

-It’s still you, Murdock – this time I moved forward still leaving some space between our face. So close yet so far we were.....

-Is it? – he closed the gap without hesitation, ready to take a step further as his hands started roaming my sides and back and that made me shiver.

- You lost – I gathered all my strenth and muttered into the kiss which made him stop – you kissed me first.

- Can you blame me? – he rested his forehead on mine – It’s you who made me lost, that’s truly a winning.

- Now, as a punishment….

- I like where this is going…. - he muttered in a lowered voice.

- Shit, Matt, just shut up for a minute, will you? No more games. As a punishment you are going to explain what happened. Then and only then I may consider taking care of the wounds and maybe some more action.

- Fine. But you are not going to like it.

And that was how I found about Daredevil.

-I'm sorry, you are doing what?!

-YN, please just listen to me - he pleaded trying to touch me.

-Oh, I am listening, very, very carefully. To every single word. Maybe at least one of them would help with making sense to what you are saying. -I sat down out of his reach crossing my arms - go on. Present your case.

-Can you please, stop lawyering and act like a girlfriend this time?

-is that what you really want? - I looked at him - be careful what you wish for, boyfriend.

-On second thought - I don't want your wrath.

-Wrath?! - I scoffed - Matt, I'm deadly worried about you. You should not...

-I know. I know what I'm putting at risk here, but... there are some dangerous people here. I can't stop until everyone is safe.

-And are you?

-Sorry?

-Are you safe, Matt? Because from what I see the only one in danger is you. And what you are putting at risk is my mental health. We talked about it, remember? We promised we won't be like our college cases. So why?

-YN....

-No, Matt. I don't even know what to think now. I need to consult my pillow on this one.

-Please don't go. Stay. I need you.

-I'm not going anywhere, but .... I need to go through it by myself. So just give me space, all right?

He did and therefore nothing happened that night between us. We were just sleeping or probably rather pretending to. There were a lot of thoughts in my mind, but as much as I hated it, I needed him too. Therefore I let him be the big spoon as he held me from behind close to his chest in bed. The warmth radiating from his body and his soft touch like a silent pleading to understand, to forgive him and to stay despite everything. I felt betrayed and lied to, but I also loved this idiot so I had absolutely no idea what to do.

Next morning was a bit awkward for both of us. We feel asleep spooning but woke up in quite different position. My head was on his chest as I embraced him while one of his hand rested on my waist, the other cradling my head as if he was trying to protect me. I knew he was not asleep and he knew the same about me.

-Morning - I muttered planting a single soft kiss on his shoulder.

-Morning YN - he answered caressing my nose with his - how did you sleep?

-I hate you Murdock - I hissed - I hate what you do to me.

-And what is that?

-You make me feel safe and loved. You make me believe I have someone to take care of and someone to trust. You are the reason I feel happy and why I smile even at the worst day. And on the other hand because of you I feel broken and scared. Lonely and exposed. And the worst thing - you make me want to forgive you for everything. For all the lies, for clouding the facts. And I know damn well how much pain this will cause me, but I do forigve you, Mattie - at this point I could not hide my tears that started flowing down my cheeks.

-Yn - he whiped them away with his thumb making me instinctively lean into his touch - I love you - he whispered resting his forehead on mine. And I am sorry.

-Don't you ever hide anything from me, again. Ever, you hear me - I cupped his cheeks and he nodded looking down - Cause if you do, we will be over, you get that?

-Never again - he whispered -now, let me apologise to you properly - he grinned as he pinned me down on the bed and started kissing me.

Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t a fan of the idea of my boyfriend running around Hell’s kitchen dressed up in some crazy costume (even if it was appealing), getting beaten up. Maybe it would be easier if I was there too and not in Los Angeles. On the other side, I was more than sure I could not stop him, so after a conversation, however not many words were used, we came up with some Daredevil "ground rules" which we were both more or less content with. And somehow, we really did made it work for the last two years.

Present day

-Get out of your head, YN, I know you are reminiscing.

-You know what I’m thinking now? - I teased

-When you are not working, there are like three things on your mind.

-Really? You believe me so simple? Go on, tell me what is it then, mentalist.

- Ok – he put a strand of hair behind my ear – it’s either me, since I’m your best friend and you are concerned over my wellbeing – I scoffed at the words and he laughed – the book you’re reading or the story you are currently writing under the desk – I tried to interrupt him but it was futile since he did knew about my efforts in that area – or …. your distant boyfriend, Murdock. I suppose it’s the latter. Am I right?

- You are, however it’s rather difficult to admit it.

- Is everything ok between you two? When was the last time you saw him?

- Three weeks ago in person. He’s … he’s dealing with something – yes daredevil something but it't not like I can say it out loud- but we talked on Skype and we text regularly. It’s hard, Pug, even if from the begging I knew it would be.

- Come here – he motioned me to lay my head on his shoulder and stroked my hair gently– whatever happens, you have me, you know.

- Thank you, Pug. I don’t know what I would do without you.- I closed my eyes, enjoying his presence and we stayed like that for some time.

***

-Are you guys together? – Nicky, Jennifer’s paralegal asked me straight away

- What? Me and Pug? No way! We’re just best friends.

- Mhm, right – she did not seem convinced.

-Nicky, I got a boyfriend.

- in other state I believe – she smirked.

-Yes, in fact. Hell’s kitchen. And why am I even telling you this?

- Because we’re getting to know each other. And because I still don’t believe you.

- Pug, would you mind helping me here?

-I don’t know what you girls are blabbering about but whatever YN says I support it. - he spoke from his office, hearing us thanks to the open door.

- See? – I flashed a smile towards my interlocutor.

- How are you dealing with long-distance relationship then?

- That’s it. I draw the line here, Nicky.

-Oh come on, we were finally getting somewhere.

-I have to go. Jen is probably in dire need of my help with the case.

- With the frog man? I think she has it all under control.

- Mm. nope. I can tell she needs me desperately.

The truth was that me and Jen got pretty attached since her arrival. Unlike Nicky, who I secretly liked but would never admit, she never insisted of retrieving any personal details from me. It was like we had two bigger no-secrets relationship in the office and that was me with Pug and Jen with Nicky and not-so-deep-but-still-friendship amongst everyone else. So when Jen asked me to help her with the frog man case which was essentially some stupid-ass teenager who wanted to be a superhero and had daddy rich enough to enable that, I was more than happy to accept. That was until I realized the other party, the defendant was Luke Jacobson, the designer who made a costume for Ma… aaah, I mean for Daredevil. Perhaps I should have invoked the conflict of interest and refused, but the temptation of getting away from the contracts was too big to deny Jen.

We entered the court and took our places on the bench. Pug and Nicky were sitting right behind us, giving us a thumbs up. They were so similar with their happiness and undying positivity. Eugene Patillo, our client was between us, while Luke was sitting by himself. It was absolutely unprofessional of his lawyer to be late and leave him waiting. Suddenly, as me and Jen started getting impatient, as well as the judge, the door burst open and the attorney came in with an apologizing look on his face.

-I’m here. I’m sorry your honor, I could not find a place to park – the judge was perplexed at his words so he was quick to add - I’m kidding. My driver could not find a place.

Oh shit! Now I definitely have a conflict of interest here! Shit! – I turned around to take a look at Pug who just shook his head, his frown and honestly his whole face asking me if I knew about this which I obviously did not. Matt also sensed something happening – perhaps my surprise gave away some vibe or he felt my scent, I don't know, but he turned his head towards me and smiled. It was a genuine smile, not a smirk and not a half-one, and I looked down trying to hide my feelings which Matt already knew better than I did.

-Who is this asshole? – Jen whispered to herself.

-Hey, easy, Jen – I narrowed eyes at her – he may be a bit overconfident, but he’s not a jerk.

- Do you know him?

-Yeah, well, sort of….

-Is this a problem on personal matter?

- A little – I frowned awkwardly – I’m sorry, Jen, I had no idea.

-Don’t worry. But, in that case let me handle this one, ok?

-Sure. I hate it though. I had a whole speech prepared.... - I whined. I swear, one day Mutt Murdock will become the death of me.

The trial was surprisingly quick, but what else should I expect from Matt, who obviously won. This left me in even more compromising position, since on one hand I was happy for him and on the other I should have taken care of our client’s interest way better and was frustrated to have lost.

-Are you ok? – Pug grabbed me just as we exited the courtroom and the press did not catch us yet asking for a statement – with Murdock sudden appearance?

-I’m just surprised. And confused. I mean, he could have told me he was coming. Not about the client, since you know … confidentiality, but about his visit in LA. But I’m fine. I guess. I have to talk to the press, ok? Wait for me, I’ll need you now.

- She-hulk, YN, what happened there? How was the result of the trial? Did you win? – oh, yes, the press vultures are off the leash. As we were talking to the reporters I had no time or audacity to look toward the other side of the court hall where Matt was being interviewed. There was a lump in my throat and even if I didn’t want to admit it I was worried of the reason behind his silence. So, my instincts, instead of running into his arms was more focused on running away as fast as possible. And I did, as soon as the interview ended. Guess I forgot he was way faster than me. And stronger.

- Counsellor! – he yelled catching me up and grabbing my arm causing me to turn and look at him – I think you forgot something – being chased by a blind man on the street. How crazy is that?

-Really? And what may that be?

- A welcome? – he smirked and leaned forward clearly going in for a kiss.

-Um, no - I put index finger on his lips which made him stop halfway - that is highly unproffestional counsellor. We are on the opposite sides of the barricade after all.

-YN... - Matt whined in frustration

-Besides, welcome would be far better and sweeter if I knew someone were coming to visit my city. Instead I was practically left on radio silence for the last weeks, worried about the … stuff you do - I waved my hand around - and alone.

-I wanted to surprise you – he gently grabbed my chin and caressed my cheek –I’m sorry, sweetheart.

-You sure did surprised me, Matt. – I pouted - Were you even going to come find me or is it just a proffesional matter? Client to represent and then off?

- You know exactly why Luke asked for me, honey. And of course I was going to come to you. How could I not? I have no idea you were representing Eugene. Are you angry? - he took his glasses of and gave me his signature sad, lost cat look.

- Like hell. But I already know how to use that spare energy – I leaned forward and kissed him which he was glad to take, closing his arms around me, pulling me in. Lost in the moment, we completely forgot that we were still in front of the court. And that the reporters were still there. With their cameras and recorders.

- Murdock, as much as wonderful it is to see you – Pug interrupted giving us a shove and getting away from the public eye. Thank god for this man and his reason. – you might want to be more discreet.

- Nice to see you too, Augustin – Matt smirked at the other man.

-So that is her boyfriend?! Damn, girl! – Nicky winked at me, shock and approval mixed on her face.

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pshbites · 3 months ago

Text

love. - pjs

genre ⇢ tooth rotting fluff, drabble

pairing ⇢ gf!femreader x bf!jay

wc ⇢ 640

warning(s) ⇢ food, cursing, simply fluff, not proofread

a/n : me writing smth other than love on air... if you liked this please be sure to reblog and like this! feedback is always apreciated <3 and join my perma taglist here

you gently shut the door of yours and jays shared apartment, trying your best to make the most minimal noise possible. you were promoted at your job this year, of course it was a great feat but with it came longer hours and a harder workload. it was safe to say that this wasn’t the first time you came home past 9 pm.

you slipped off your jacket and hung it on the rack, slipping your shoes off as well and picking them up. you walked to yours and jays bedroom and pushed the door open softly, revealing jay sound asleep in bed.

trying not to make any noise, you tiptoe around the room. “fuck!” you whisper-shouted after hitting your knee on the bed frame. jay stirred in bed then saw you, holding your shoes, caught red handed. “I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to wake you” you mumbled, frowning as he shook his head, clearly tired. “are you okay?” he rubbed his eyes and looked at you. “yeah, just let me change i’ll be in bed in a bit okay?” he nods, laying back down.

after washing up and changing your clothes, you walked back to the bed, seeing jay still laying there in the same position he was before. he shut his phone and opened the covers for you to slip in. he smiled as you laid next to him. you turned facing him, smiling softly. “hi” his hand reached to your face, brushing any stray hairs out of the way. “how was work?” you could hear the sleepiness in his voice and frowned a little.

“it was alright, you know just work.” you hesitated, pursing your lips. “what is it?” jay mumbled, furrowing his brows slightly. “i’m sorry, i keep coming home late” he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t apologize you’re working babe, i get it” you nodded, still feeling the guilt in your chest.

jay sighed out once more, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “whatever you’re thinking stop, i promise yn it’s not an issue at all, okay?” he looked in your eyes, making you smile a little. if all else failed, you knew jay would always reassure you no matter what.

you nodded, smiling softly. jay kissed your forehead and pulled you into his chest, your head resting against it. you loved when the two of you laid like this, you could hear his heartbeat and it was almost like a lullaby. like that time at night when everything fell into place.

jays fingers were lost in your hair, brushing it, playing with it, anything really. “should we have breakfast together tomorrow?” you spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. “we haven’t done that in a while have we?” jay hummed back, resting his chin on your head. “nope” you replied, rubbing his shirt.

“i’ll make whatever you want me to babe” jay said, making you giggle a little. “i can’t pamper my boyfriend?” you picked your head up, angling your body to face him, your chin on his chest now. “yn, as much as i love you, you can’t cook for shit” he whispered that last part out, making you slap his chest lightly. “how rude!” he only laughed in response, stroking your hair.

“i’d rather do all the work for you that’s all” he replied, looking at you with so much adoration. you nodded, smiling softly. “okay, i can get around that” you spoke, resting your head on his chest once more.

jay continued to play with your hair. “so do you want pancakes or waffles?” jay mumbled out, only hearing you breathing in return. he furrowed his brows, “babe? yn?” he peaked over to see you sound asleep, making him smile. he kissed the top of your head and laid back, falling fast asleep.

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mocha000 · 1 year ago

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“I think noodle totally views Hobi as his dad and the m/c as his mom 🥺 so when he’s meowing at Hobi he’s literally being like “dad do something 🥺 moms sick!” I even imagine like noodle giving a little idk- like comic going “this is my mom and I love her lots and lots, I used to be sad and scared, but then she found me and brought me home. I think she used to be sad and scared too 🥺” ahhh maybe one day I’ll make a little 12 panel about it <3 I get soft when I think of how much noodle loves the m/c“ That’s SO cute omg TT I never thought of noodle thinking of them as his parents.

“I like reading your reviews like this mostly because I figure out exactly what stands out the most to readers.“ Omg I love you! “It’s kind of easy to get lost in the sauce when you’re writing.” Ohh that’s interesting and makes sense. “Honestly if my characters need to pee is one of the biggest things that I think about when I’m writing- it’s like an open door- you gotta say if you close it you know?“ Lol ok

“I feel like I could have gone into more detail describing geumjae’s fake dead body but after the teaser wasn’t received the best- it’s not that I don’t think people liked it- just that it didn’t get quite as much interaction as the teasers usually do- I decided to make it a little bit more readable.” Aww :/ I love these details. I wonder what the more detailed version is like ahh.

“Ahhhh the red text? Was it useful? Did people like a bit of a warning?“ Yes. But your angst with mc being lost in her sad thoughts always hurts me so bad. (I love it though. It’s interesting and comforting) “You know whenever I mention Yoongi I’ve gotta mention some tangerines- like that boy's heart is made of them at this point.“ I love Yoongi TT “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve mentioned it on this page- but your line “he’s letting her use his precious old stolen headphones” briefly reminded me of the fanfic fragments shored : (“ Cute!

“ I think Hobi x m.c x Yoongi is gonna start to be everyone’s favorite pairing, like- both of them bickering and being best friend romatic-ey and Yoongi having such heart eyes for each of them- eternally flustered when both of them decide to band together and be cute.” I love them! I already love irl Sope’s dynamic. “He’s done for. His daisy and his tulip <3“ Li I’m BEGGING you to put more of the “daisy” nickname omg please. It’s too cute. Yoongi and his cute little nicknames for the pack makes me so soft.

“Namjoon was kinda anti-therapy- uncharacteristically- but that’s mostly because I think he’d like more control over the m/c’s kinda recovery? It’s very alpha of him.“ Ohh ok, interesting. “You’re right in thinking that Jimin is at a weird spot after this- he’d definitely going to feel a little bit more inclined to watch the m/c after this- although he fixed the issue kind of, he’s probably gonna let jk take the majority of the work and guilt on this- although it’s not exactly in minnies character.“ Ooh ok

“He realizes that he’s not going to be the one to get in the way and fix it- rather just function as a support for both of them….if I had to choose someone to fix it- it would be Hobi 🥺“ Yes Hobii TT “ I was kind talking about how a lot of the word choice in each chapter connects to later sections in the chapter. “ Oh ok! I miss those too ahh. sorry lol

“ Ahhhh I’m sorry that came off wrong- “ Please don’t apologize! I think I was feeling a little emotional after reading this ch. And kinda frustrated that you don’t get more comments for bily. You deserve all of the praise and attention :/

“mocha, im never going to think that you of all people don't apreciate my work, i'm happy with all the love i'm able to get <3 please treat yourself gently after this chapter! i know the angst doesn't always set people off in the right mindset <3“ Thank you baby! I love you! I was feeling kinda sad and off for about 1-2 hours after the fic probably? But I’m ok rn!

Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I��m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

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Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

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aiiwa · 4 years ago

Text

KISS FOR ME — YELENA AND PIECK.

— yelena x reader x pieck.

genre: smut, 18+.

warnings: vagina having reader, no pronouns used for reader, scissoring, slight overstimulation, squirting, exhibitionism, yelena calls herself ‘owner’ at the end. if i miss anything please let me know.

word count: 1.6k.

— a/n: first ever fic for aot and it’s brought from me wanting to ✂️ pieck heheheh. be nice to me please 😫🙏🏽. reblogs are always apreciated. thank you to my precious besties @jeanbeaux n @asahiswrld for beta-ing for me <3333.

yelena’s hooded gaze was gluttonous in the way she drank in the sight of her dolls, sitting bare and pretty just for her.

dark eyes burned a trail down your skin. it started from your nape, lingering on the curve of your breasts before sliding down the valley; admiring your tummy, the dip of your waist, the slope of your hips. once her stare settled between the plush of your thighs, your skin lit ablaze, heat shooting straight down to your aching cunt - a silver string of your slick dripping onto the dampened bed sheet.

the corner of her thin lips pull upward in a smirk.

beside you was pieck, who fared no better than you under the power of yelena. you could almost see the small goosebumps prickling her pale skin; the warmth of her small shoulder brushing against yours was familiar and comforting.

“babies.” yelena cooed, calling for you and pieck’s attention. “my pretty babies.”

she makes a show of stripping off her suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the crimson love seat, before haphazardly dropping onto the cushion. spreading her long legs wide, your breath hitches at the way her beige pants tighten around her strong thighs, defining the shape of her taut muscles. everything about her demeanour is calm, casual in the way her fingers undo the first few buttons of her white shirt.

“why don’t you give each other a kiss for me?” the lilt in her tone covers her command as a suggestion. leaning back in her seat, placing her elbows on the armrests, you and pieck react quickly.

turning to face each other, the pink pout of pieck’s lips meet your own eagerly. with your hands on her waist, you pull her flush against you as her own small hand holds the back of your head. you can’t help but moan into her mouth as your tongues brush against each other sensually, hands roaming as pieck sucks on your tongue gently.

the dissatisfied tsk of yelena breaks the spell of your make out.

slightly dazed, you move back from pieck slightly. both of you wearing the same worried look. neither would you two ever want to displease your love.

“yelena…?” you whisper her name out, hesistant.

pieck follows your lead. “is this not what you want?”

“no.” the word alone sends a shiver down your spine. yelena leans back into the chair, stare hard and jaw tilted up. “i want to see those pretty pussies of yours kiss.”

the whimper that escapes pieck is unwillingly loud, coloured with need. your own is caught in your throat, the throbbing of your cunt taking over your mind and body.

a flurry of pets and whines has pieck laying on her back, inky locks spread over the pillow underneath her head, with her thighs parted invitingly. you’re enchanted by the juices leaking from her tight little hole, smeared across her inner thighs and the trimmed stripe of dark curls just above her clit. and when you reach out to brush along her slit, coating the pad of your thumb in her arousal, she’s quick to grab at your wrist.

“don’t tease, y/n.” pieck hisses, pleading eyes looking up at you. “please.”

yelena chuckles lowly from her seat, already enjoying the show. she always loved how desperate the two of would get. especially when things got vocal.

shaking pieck’s lithe fingers from your wrist, you shuffle closer to her; knees dipping into the mattress, as you hold on to her toned leg, sliding your own to the side of her hip - slotting yourself to straddle her almost sideways.

with no hesitation, you lower yourself against her testingly, enticing a harmony of your shared moans.

“f-fuck.” you gasp, throwing your head. pressed against her, the sensation of her warm, wet cunt against your own starts to fog your mind.

“y/n.” pieck’s whines are begging. “move, y/n…your pussy feels so good against mine.”

“listen to her, baby doll.” yelena pipes up, completely relaxed in her seat. “kiss your pussies together even more for me, won’t you?”

the praise from pieck and yelena’s words has you rolling your hips, gliding your pussy over her silky folds, gasping each time your clits catch on to each other’s. it��s extremely lewd, the sloppy sound of your cunts smushed together, slick mixing and dribbling down your thighs. the sensation has you completely intoxicated.

“mmm.” moaning loudly, you caress pieck’s leg in your hold. leaning in slightly to press a gentle kiss to her ankle, you smile against her skin, licking and grazing your teeth along the soft flesh.

“shit-“ she curses, arching into you more. grinding upwards to meet your thrusts.

you feel her hand reach out to touch you, grabbing onto your hips and digging her fingers into you bruisingly - urging you for more.

angling your head back slightly, mid-thrust, you catch a glimpse of yelena’s form. her nails carve crescent moon shapes into the armrest, tell-tale signs of her restraint to not surge towards her two lovers. no matter how much you and pieck would play with each other in front of her, yelena would never yield until the end.

and best of all, she never touched herself. pleasing her was a job left strictly for her precious dolls.

the way you kiss you and pieck’s pussies together in slow, meaningful strokes is dizzying. and it starts to become too much, too soon. with your swollen clit sliding against her mound, and with pieck’s pushed against your soppy slit, edging into the entrance of your tight hole; the two of you become a mess of mewls.

“hnn, y/n.” the way her angel lips moans your name is sinful. “baby please, wanna cum.”

your pants are louder, choking on your moans as you slide yourself over her cunt harder, faster; that you both can’t help but cry out as you reach your peaks.

“oh my, ah, f-fuck-!”

“‘m cumming, y/n, oh-!”

you still on top of pieck, tongue lolled and thighs tensed, your pussy clenching around nothing as you come undone. swearing you can feel the pulsing of pieck’s cunt in time with your own, she squirms underneath you in a fit of pleasure, eyes rolled back as she whines through her orgasm.

“fuck me.” yelena’s voice is muffled by the sound of your own racing heart; but the proud tone in her voice is all you need to turn and face her.

“w-were we…good for you?”

“so good, baby. so fucking perfect.”

sighing contently, you press your forehead to pieck’s leg still in your hold. smiling, your body felt amazing as if you were floating; you don’t even have time to react as pieck flips the two of you over with practiced ease.

“p-pieck-!”

flat on your back, pieck makes fast work pushing your knees against your chest; squeezing the fat of your thighs as she presses the side of her calves to your hips. with your own glistening pussy exposed, pieck saddles on the backs of your thighs, and when she rolls her hips, you jolt as your puffy clits rub against each other.

“fuck, yes-!”

you’re choking on your moans, mouth parted as gasps huff out and drool pools from the corner. you’re absolutely entranced by the way pieck’s full breasts bounce in your face, how her tummy rolls as she ruts into you.

a thin sheen of sweat lays over your heated skin. and when you find your voice, you’re calling out her name over and over like a prayer.

“pieck, pieck, pieck, pieck!”

she consumes every part of your being - yelena’s keen eyes watching blocked from your mind. you even miss the damp patch darkening the crotch of her beige pants.

pieck rocks against you hard, too fast for your sensitive cunt; your bodies tremble as the waves of your orgasm bubbling in your tummy threaten to burst at any moment. it’s when your throbbing clit draws against her dripping entrance once, twice, thrice that you fall apart completely.

your eyes widen, white stars dotting your vision, as your release squirts from your pulsating hole.

“ah, ah, haaa~”

despite the way your mouth jars open in a silent cry, pieck continues to jack rabbit hump your poor pussy. she pants heavy, dark locks stuck to her forehead until she reaches her own high - spraying her own cum all over you.

“ooh, fuck, yes…”

riding out your highs together, you’re lost in the overstimulation; incoherent harmonies of your babbles are the only sound heard in the room. when you finally break apart from each other, pieck falling back across from you, your body trembles from the after effects - your slick drooling from your twitching cunt.

the slow clapping pulls you and pieck from your post-orgasm daze, and through your half-lidded gaze, you watch as yelena stands from her seat and approaches you two.

“such good babies.” the tall woman praises, leaning over your spent bodies. “so messy too, hm?”

a long finger trails down your wet tummy, swirling the mixture of you and pieck’s cum, before moving down to dip into your pussy. the mutual gasp and keen shared between you and pieck, tells you that yelena is doing the same to her.

“i love watching my dolls kiss.” yelena’s finger slowly pumps in and out of you, chuckling lowly as you clamp around the digit desperately. “seeing your cunts kiss and cum all over each other, fuck, it drives me insane.”

hastily, yelena yanks her finger out of you and pieck; the two of you crying out at the lost of contact, blinking up at her.

“shut up.”

harsh silence invades the room. yelena smiles warmly at your obedience, before grabbing at you and pieck’s hands, bringing them to brush over her crotch and grip onto her leather belt.

“now, you’ll be my perfect dolls and make your owner feel good, won’t you?”

AOT NSFW TAG LIST: @babyworld @ebiharachan @itadorey @lavenderpup @peachyaeger @r-raiinah @sanemiya @savantsoulfinder @sunkithbo + form linked on navi to join tag list!

ASKED TO BE TAGGED: @curapiikt @kure-san

#aot smut #attack on titan smut #yelena smut #pieck smut #yelena x reader #pieck x reader #aot x reader #yelena x reader x pieck #yelena x pieck #hanimehub

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

Note

hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly

bets off // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i’ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D

summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you.

(5k)

-----------

Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips.

“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.

“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother.

Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.

“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.

George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.

“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.

“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”

“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”

George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.

Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.

He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.

“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”

You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.

“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.

“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.

“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor.

He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.

“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.

“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”

You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.

“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.

“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.

“Long story short-”

You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”

“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”

You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.

“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!”

You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond.

“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.

He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.

‘Professor Sprout,

Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.

-Poppy’

You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers.

You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow.

You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.

“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be.

You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,

“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.

“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”

You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.

“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”

“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”

“What do you get if you win?”

Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.

“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.

He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.

Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.

You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over.

“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling.

“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.

You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.

“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side.

He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head.

Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.

Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.

Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.

“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”

Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”

“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.

Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping.

“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.

He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.

“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.

He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.

“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,

“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.

You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.

“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.

“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.

You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.

The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.

“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board.

“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.

A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”

“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.

“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.

You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.

“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.

“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud.

Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious.

You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you.

He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you.

Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.

He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.

“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”

He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.

Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.

For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.

You found out soon that it was.

You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them.

“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”

Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully.

The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush.

“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.

Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.

He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly.

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one.

You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”

He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests.

“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.

You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.

When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it.

So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect.

He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy.

You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.

He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies.

You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to.

The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.

You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways.

The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.

“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.

You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on.

Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.

“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.

Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.

Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”

Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry.

You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.

“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”

Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.

“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”

You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.

“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”

Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione.

“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.

You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.

“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”

Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.

“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month.

“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt

His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.

“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.

You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes.

“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”

Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley.

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