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mocha000 · 2 years 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.

~-~

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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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