#fic: before now and after

[sweetestofchaos]

Before, Now and After | M.YG x K.SJ

🔪 Pairing: Alpha Gang Boss!Yoongi x Omega Maid!Seokjin

🔪 Rating: 18+

🔪 Genre: gang au, dead dove, parent au, a/b/o | angst, fluff, smut, mxm

🔪 Warnings: murder, blood, torture (described), drowning, stabbing, physical violence, unprotected sex, knotting, fingering, slick/cum eating, anal sex, oral, breast feeding, lactation kink (if you squint), a/b/o dynamics, scenting, strong language, mentions of kidnapping, verbal fighting, mpreg

🔪 Summary: As the leader of the infamous Bangtan, Yoongi is untouchable and lives life as he pleases. He thinks he has it all until the tall and broad shoulder omegan maid, Kim Seokjin walks into his office and makes Yoongi second guess what he wants in life.

🔪 Word Count: 23.2k

author notes: this story is completely fiction. it was written for the daddy's home fest hosted by @btsfests. if i missed any warnings, please let me know. if you would like to scream in my ask box, feel free it is open.

ao3 - masterlist

About Time - 11.2k

Stay Close - 12k

[jedi-starbird]

Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

[kobrafangs]

something something jaya something forget me nots

[xinganhao]

🧵 minghao x translator!reader.

the one where minghao falls for the group's translator ☆ some accompanying texts for my minghao birthday fic, lost in translation. sent over a span of nine years. excerpt under the cut. happy minghao day! 𓇢𓆸

⌗ ┆i published eight days worth of minghao content leading up to his birthday a.k.a the(8) days of minghao, and this verse is the conclusion! i'm happy so share an excerpt from my monster of a fic [which is also admittedly an origin story for my username lol]. happy myungho day. <3

The words stay unspoken. The red thread of fate, the one that Minghao so firmly believes in, draws out for another moment more.  

As you go to shoot back some drinks with your team, Mingyu sidles up to Minghao's side. The older man presses a sweating bottle of beer into Minghao's hand.  

"Still not tonight, huh?" Mingyu asks with no shortage of amusement.  

The beer in his hand is cold enough that it would be a little uncomfortable to hold onto if Minghao weren't so used to it, but he simply wraps his fingers around the bottle and takes a half-hearted sip from it.  

His lips purse as he hears Mingyu's question, a frown crossing his face.  

"No. We didn't talk about anything," he says, somewhat regretfully, because tonight just felt like it could have been the right night to say something. To finally admit how he feels, to finally ask what he wants to ask.  

And maybe you would deny him, tell him that you just wanted to be his friend, but he'd take it. He'd take anything if it meant he could stay in your life—  

Or maybe you'd even say yes, and he could finally have a chance to prove himself to you.  

"Are you going to try again tomorrow?" Mingyu asks, taking a sip of his own beer, his eyebrows raising a little.  

Another sigh falls from Minghao's lips and he nods, his gaze softening as he looks in your direction, watching you smile in spite of the way he aches to be by your side.  

"Of course I'm going to try again tomorrow," he whispers, and he'll do that for the rest of his life if he has to.  

FULL FIC:

COLLECTION:

[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[piningpercussionist]

Weed smoking girlfriends! But they can just be hanging out if you prefer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Happy 4/20!

[reineydraws]

i have this fic series i'm still working on where mihawk sort of becomes rayleigh's kid and spends ages 11-17ish on the oro jackson.

shanks and buggy imprint on him (bugs considers him a sort of older brother figure/sparring inspiration and shanks has a crush that eventually turns into full-blown love) and this is how i imagine they're like on the day mihawk sets off on his own haha.

[purplepixel]

- Ch. 20 of Spiders Web With Strings Attached by @psychologicalwarclaire

GET HER MIKEY. GET HERRRR. JUSTICE SHALL BE SERVED!!!

This is your reminder to go read this amazing fanfic. Am I spoiling a pretty big moment in this fic? Maybe. Only those whove read it would understand the amount of pure euphoria this chapter gave after words and words of having your heart shattered in a million pieces. Chapter 20 of swsa is iconic and remains one of the greatest moments in fanfiction I’ve ever read.

[muffinlance]

Next Dark Night in Ba Sing Se part! Is! Fully outlined!

...And so is the majority of series in lesser detail because oops my hand slipped.

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[sweetestofchaos]

BNAA: About Time | M.YG x K.SJ

🔪Pairing: Alpha Gang Boss!Yoongi x Omega Maid!Seokjin

🔪 Rating: 18+

🔪 Genre: gang au, dead dove, parent au, a/b/o, angst, fluff, smut, mxm, mpreg

🔪 Warnings: murder, blood, torture (described), drowning, stabbing, physical violence, unprotected sex, knotting, fingering, slick/cum eating, anal sex, oral, breast feeding, lactation kink (if you squint), a/b/o dynamics, scenting, strong language.

🔪 Word Count: 11.2k

Standing at the top of the world, Bangtan's Alpha leader Min Youngi isn't looking for anything. He has all he needs here with his pack, at least that's what he thought until the new maid that was hired walks into his office, Omega Kim Seokjin.

a/n:  this story is completely fiction. it was written for the daddy’s home fest hosted by @btsfests. if i missed any warnings, please let me know. if you would like to scream in my ask box, feel free it is open. for the sake of time, i did not have this fic betaed, if you see any major mistakes, please let me know.

fest masterlist 🔪 ao3 🔪series masterlist

🔪chapter one 🔪chapter two

It’s late into the night, the moon is hidden behind a soft overcast of grey tinted clouds. Stars twinkle bright and yet little light spills into the house surrounded by a thick forest. Cordless bamboo blinds keep the house dark with the added protection of pleated taupe blackout curtains throughout the house. Yoongi sits in a wide office chair, large and comfortable, ebony in color with brass tipped legs and matching nail head direction around the hem to offset the black fabric of the chair.

A small golden lamp with a black rounded shade, sits on a dark wooden desk; it gives enough light to bathe the room in a soft glow. The sound of keys clicking fills the air along with the scrap of a pen against paper. Somewhere in the hallway, a grandfather clock chimes on the hour and the sound of clicking stops. The pen is set down and Yoongi heaves a deep sigh, his pale fingers pushing his black hair from his face as he leans back in the chair and stares up at the mini crystal chandelier. 

Yoongi’s body is relaxed but his face is tense, there is a furrow between his brows and his mouth is pulled into a frown. The room is drenched in the scent of burnt thyme, spicy and sharp as he thinks over the events of today. Someone had tried to steal a quarter of a billion won from him. They had no chance of getting away with it but he felt annoyed by the act. He wasn’t impressed, he was pissed. The idiots had spit on his name and like any good alpha, it was his job to gain that respect back.

It didn’t take long to gather the lower members of the gang, the foot soldiers and runners. They flocked to him like moths to a flame. They were desperate to become part of the Min Pack and followed his every command. Yoongi stood before them, dressed in a brand new two piece suit from Valentino.

It was a tanned blush, slightly muted with a blush linen shirt that had a scarf collar underneath. It was a handsome suit and he made it a point to stand there with his hair parted in the middle, leather boots on his feet and gold rings on his fingers. The other member of his innermost circle, his true pack, stood behind him. Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin were terrifying to look at with cold eyes and even colder hearts. 

Yoongi was powerful. He was the pack alpha and once he snapped his fingers, two members of his inner circle, Jungkook and Taehyung (the terror twins he liked to refer to them as) dragged two beta males out to stand before him with their hands tied together in front of them.

Yoongi kept his composure, asked if they had any last words and didn’t flinch when one of them spit at his feet. He simply scoffed out a laugh as his lips twitched and nodded his head. Jungkook and Taehyung wasted no time in dragging the men in front of two large metal waste bins filled with water. Yoongi didn’t take his eyes off the men as his pack mates pushed them head first into the water. The men struggled to break free but it was useless. Yoongi held his hand up and they were pulled from the water, coughing and sputtering. 

The stench of piss was strong in the air and Yoongi could hear Jimin grumble to himself in disgust in the background. Yoongi stared at the betas before him and cocked his head as they struggled to breath properly with water in their lungs. He looked around at the others around him  and grinned, his canines sharp and white in the moonlight and fire. He licked his lips and clasped his hands behind his back before he nodded his head once more. The betas were shoved back into the water. Their legs kicked and banged against the tins, water splashed onto the ground and soon their bodies slumped unmoving. 

Jungkook and Taehyung held them under a little longer just to be safe before they threw the lifeless bodies onto the ground in front of the lower pack members. The threat was clear and Yoongi turned on his heel, walking away with his packmates behind him.

In his office, Yoongi sighs and runs a hand over his face. He can smell gasoline on his clothing and the faint trace of blood from the dirt that touched the bottom of his pants. The thought of a shower passes his mind and Yoongi pushes himself away from his desk. A shower before bed sounds wonderful. Leaving his office, Yoongi walks down the hall with his hands in his pockets and he hums to himself. No one is awake at this time. The maids are all sound asleep in the lower levels of the estate, along with the cooks. 

In the bathroom, Yoongi strips off his suit and lets it fall to the floor in a pile of wrinkled fabric. It looks out of place, very bright compared to the tans and black of the bathroom. The floor tile is a tan and white marble while the walls are black and tan marble. The hardware is all black with a beautiful white floating sink that could easily fit a medium sized dog in it. There are two shower heads, one a large square and the other a smaller rectangle. They hang on the wall beside the large tub that sits flush against the wall in all its elegant beauty. A smooth glass door trimmed with sleek black metal separates the shower and bathtub from the rest of the bathroom. 

Standing nude, Yoongi turns on the shower and uses the toilet while the water heats up. He eyes the bathtub and shakes his head. If he sits in there now, he knows he will most likely fall asleep. As he steps into the spray of the hot water, Yoongi groans. His pale skin starts to heat and flush as the water washes over his tired muscles. The pressure is strong enough to work tiny knots out from under Yoongi’s skin and his eyes slip shut in relief. His black hair sticks to his neck and forehead, some pieces pressing into his lid but Yoongi doesn’t really care. Placing his palms against the shower wall, he lifts his face towards the spray of the water and holds his breath. 

Yoongi would much rather be sleeping right now but duty calls. Hoseok called at six o’clock in the morning with news of a pack that came from out of town. Their main pack was the same size as Bangtan’s. Seven members with the youngest being the same age as Jungkook. The Lim pack, also known as Got7. Yoongi vaguely recalls hearing about them from someone else but he isn’t too sure. He will have Namjoon run a background check on the members and Jimin can set up a meeting if it is beneficial to do so. 

“Mister Min?”

Yoongi’s eyes snap up from his coffee cup and he sees Haeun, his head maid looking at him with a knowing smile on her face. She is an older omega and Yoongi sees the woman much like a grandmother or aunt. She had been a maid when his parents were still alive and once they passed, she stayed by his side while most of the older maids of the house left. Haeun is a wonderful woman and Yoongi trusts her judgment. 

“Did you not get enough sleep last night?” 

Yoongi shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee, “I apologize, Haeun. Please continue.”

Haeun nods her head and continues to go over the new hire information. Two of the maids have left on maternity leave, so Haeun has found two replacements for the time being. Yoongi is half paying attention, he really doesn’t care much about the maids and cooks that live in his home. He has enough security to handle any issue that may arise. Plus, Yoongi always keeps a gun at his waist. Bok Yon and Kim Seokjin are the new hires that will fill in for a few months and possibly be offered full employment if they fit in well enough. From what Haeun says, Yon is a female alpha and Seokjin is a male omega. 

“Thank you, Haeun. I’m sure both will do well. I have faith in your teaching.”

Yoongi downs the rest of his coffee and sets the empty cup in the sink, upside down. He smooths a hand through his hair, pushing a few flyways down out of his face.

“I’ll be in the main room with the guys. See to it that we are not disturbed.”

“As you wish, Mister Min.” 

Haeun bows low and Yoongi leaves the kitchen with his head held high.

Seokjin is in awe. The Min estate is as beautiful as it is opulent. It is a three story high mini mansion with an attic and basement. Both locations are off limits to the staff and that’s okay with Seokjin. The moment he steps into the home, he is overcome with the powerful scent of alpha. Thyme and charcoal are infused in the air, each lungfull makes Seokjin’s inner wolf whine and he ignores the animal. It is a known fact that Min Yoongi is a capable alpha and one of the most sought after bachelors. Seokjin isn’t sure why, if he is to be honest. Sure, Min Yoongi is handsome and rich but from what Seokjin has seen on the television, he seems too serious and isn’t much of a talker.

Haeun is a kind omega woman. She explains how everything works in the Min manor and texts him a map of the home to help him get used to the layout. The map is color coded, blue rooms need dusting, white rooms are dusting and windows, yellow rooms need to be waxed and so on. The red rooms are off limits to staff outside of Haeun and two others that have been here for a long time. Seokjin doesn’t really care. He is happy to have this job and make good money.

It is an added bonus that Seokjin is able to stay in the manor and save up his money. He gets three meals a day, all free and his dry cleaning for his uniform is paid for as well. Hell, even his uniform is decent. A simple pair of black slacks with a white button up. Seokjin has the option to dress it up with a scarf or tie depending on how he feels. As an unmated omega, Seokjin has a set of scarfs that he will wear to help nullify his scent. The last thing Seokjin needs is for a random alpha to smell him and lose control. Sadly, it has happened before and Seokjin doesn’t want a repeat.

Seokjin glances up from his phone to make sure he is in the correct hallway and he frowns. The map is basic at best and looking around, Seokjin thinks he is in the right place. Looking down at the phone he sees that two of the rooms are coded white, so it will take him a little while to clean. He has a small cleaning caddy that he holds in his freehand filled with everything he needs for the rooms. From looking over the map, Seokjin also knows that there is a supply closet with extra products and items that don’t fit in the caddy as well. 

Setting the caddy on the floor, Seokjin quickly pulls a pair of earbuds from his pocket and shoves them in his ears. He clicks on his music app and scrolls through his playlists until he finds one that will give him the added boost to stay positive while he cleans a bunch of stupidly posh and expensive items that most likely have little to no use. Picking the caddy up from the floor, Seokjin hums to himself as he walks down to the hall to the first door that he will clean. 

Grabbing the handle, Seokjin twists his wrists and pushes open the door. He steps inside, taking notice of the tall shelves that line the walls filled with books. It looks to be a library of shorts to which Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“Who needs a fucking library in their home?” He mutters to himself as he closes the door behind him. “Bet my ass none of these books have been read.”

Seokjin goes over to the closet shelf and looks to see how dusty it is. He is surprised to see hardly any dust on the shelves. Setting the caddy down on the table beside him, Seokjin slips on a pair of rubber gloves and bobs his head to the music playing in his ear while he gathers the cleaning supplies he’ll need for the room. Holding a microfiber rag in one hand and a can of polish in the other, Seokjin starts to dust the shelves, making sure to remove the books and put them back in their place.

Seokjin turns to head over to the other side of the room and he screams when he sees a set of brown eyes staring at him. The items in Seokjin’s hands clatter to the floor and he stares wide eyed at the owner of the home, Min Yoongi. There is a barely there smile on his lips as he trails his eyes down the length of Seokjin’s body until they drop to the items on the floor.

Seokjin sees Yoongi’s lips moving and quickly rips the earbuds from his ears, his face flushing in embarrassment. He cannot believe that he didn’t notice the alpha in the room with him but in Seokjin’s defense the whole room smells just like the rest of the house, just a little stronger.

“Who gave you permission to come in here?”

Seokjin stares at the alpha before him, confused by the question. Permission?

“I, um, I’m the new maid?” 

Seokjin stumbles over his words, unsure of how he is supposed to answer the question. Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he stares at the unfamiliar man in his office. This room is off limits to anyone except Haeun. Yoongi narrows his eyes as the man, his supposedly newly hired maid, inhales deeply through his nose. The man’s scent is very faint, he must be wearing some kind of blocker but Yoongi doesn’t smell anything that suggests the man is lying.

Yoongi rises to his feet and walks around his desk, not once taking his eyes off the taller man. Seokjin gulps as Yoongi comes closer until they are standing toe to toe.

“What’s your name?” 

Yoongi’s voice is rough as he speaks, his tone commanding but not unpleasant. Seokjin gives his name without a moment of hesitation and Yoongi licks his lips; repeating the name. Goosebumps rise on Seokjin’s arms and the hair on the back of his neck, how can his name sound so sensual coming from a stranger’s mouth?

“You shouldn’t be in here…Seokjin.”

“I, I…why?” 

Yoongi chuckles at the way Seokjin’s Adam's apples bobs from his swallowing so harshly. Staring at the unmarked skin makes Yoongi’s gum itch and he licks at his teeth. 

“This room is off limits.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen twice as big and Yoongi watches as Seokjin’s body starts to shake. His words are jumbled together and he is quick to drop to his knees before Yoongi. Seokjin claps his hands together and bows his head.

“I am so sorry sir. Mister Min! Please, I really, really need this job!”

Yoongi would be lying if he said seeing the pretty man on his knees didn’t stir something deep within him. Hell, even his wolf was wagging its tail in interest. Yoongi squats down in front of Seokjin and grips his chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing the man to look at him. Such pretty brown eyes and the more Yoongi looked, the more he saw. Flecks of blue glittered like jewels as Seokjin’s eyes started to water and his lips pulled down into a frown. An omega…cute.

Yoongi’s eyes drop to the plump lips of the omega before him and he raises an eyebrow, “Tell you what ‘mega-”

A whine slips past Seokjin’s lips and Yoongi smirks. Such a pretty sound from a pretty omega. Yoongi pulls Seokjin’s face closer to his until their nose bush against each other’s. He inhales deeply and trails his nose down Seokjin’s jawline until he reaches his throat and presses his nose into the skin. Seokjin’s whole body shutters and he grabs onto Yoongi’s dress shirt to steady himself. He tries to speak, he wants to tell Yoongi to let him go and leave him alone. He’s too close to his scent gland.

Seokjin opens his mouth to tell Yoongi off but a whiny “A-Alpha”, falls from his lips. Yoongi growls low in his chest at the calling. He digs his nose into the flushed skin of Seokjin’s neck and presses into the slightly raised spot where his scent gland is. Sweet peaches with a subtle hint of spicy washes down Yoongi’s throat and floods his lungs. Now this is a scent he can see himself dousing himself in every morning. He just wants a little taste and he takes as much. His tongue darting out to swipe at Seokjin’s gland once, twice before he moans and wraps his lips around the raised skin.

Seokjin’s bones turn to jello and he falls into Yoongi’s arms, sending Yoongi on his ass with Seokjin’s half on top of him. Yoongi growls and Seokjin scrambles to straddle Yoongi’s lap, a soft whine leaving his lips as Yoongi sucks harshly at his skin. They both shutter as peach cobbler and smoked thyme mingle together in the air. Seokjin holds onto Yoongi’s shoulders for dear life. If he lets go of the alpha underneath him, he feels as if he will float away into the abyss and never find his way back to himself. 

Yoongi's tongue refuses to stop licking and he can’t get enough of the sweetness. He swallows mouthful after mouthful of Seokjin scent, he wants to drown in it…bottle it and keep it on his person always. Yoongi’s alpha demands that he bite the omega, claim him and never let him go and that’s what pulls Yoongi’s from his drunken state of mind. He pulls away from Seokjin’s neck and peppers kisses back up the side of his neck and jawline before stopping at the underside of his chin.

“You’re the only one I want cleaning this room. Understand?” 

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Mister Min.”

Yoongi huffs against Seokjin’s skin and places a fleeting kiss to the space right underneath his bottom lip.

“Get out.”

Haeun isn’t pleased when Yoongi dismisses her and the others from cleaning his office. She doesn’t understand why Seokjin of all people is assigned the task. That is until she sees the marks on Seokjin’s neck when he comes out of his room on one of his days off. He isn’t in his typical outfit, the uniform replaced with a simple white t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. He wears a light blue button up shirt over top, completely open that has buttons on the shoulders, again open with his left shoulder out. A silver necklace with a single hoop in the center hugs his throat and faded marks litter his skin. Haeun raises an eyebrow at Seokjin as she hones in on the necklace.

She has been with the Min pack for a long time, and has raised the young master since he was in diapers. The necklace that sits on Seokjin’s throat is the same one that the pack omega, Yoongi’s mother wore when she was still alive.

“Going somewhere?” Haeun raises her voice to make her presence known and Seokjin jumps having not seen the older woman standing in the hall.

Before Seokjin can answer, Yoongi appears with a pair of black sunglasses on his face. His black hair is pulled into a half knot on top of his head and he isn’t wearing a suit. Instead he wears a black mastermind t-shirt and a pair of black cargo pants with a purple suede zip up knit jacket overtop. Yoongi lifts his sunglasses and pushes them on top of his head before he looks between Haeun and Seokjin.

“You ready, ‘mega?”

Seokjin’s face heats up, his ears flushing brightly before he nods his head and hurries over to Yoongi’s side. Yoongi grabs hold of Seokjin’s hand and holds him tightly before he winks at Haeun and pulls Seokjin down the hall. Haeun stands in the hallway alone and shakes her head with a laugh. She did a thorough background check on Seokjin just like the other maids and she approves of what she hopes is the young couple courting. Yoongi’s job is dangerous but even still he deserves love. Seokjin is a kind and sweet omega with a good head on his shoulders. Haeun is sure that Seokjin will tame the wild beast that is Yoongi’s alpha and she cannot wait to see it happen.

Yoongi sighs as he rolls his shoulders while walking down the hall to his office. He has been gone for the past three days on business in Tokyo and has just gotten back. He needs a drink and as much as he would rather take a nap than work, he has a few files that he needs to look over. Running a hand through his hair, Yoongi pushes open the door to his office and he finds Seokjin singing to himself as he dusts. He’s wearing his regular uniform, black slacks and a white button up but it's been three days since Yoongi has seen his sweet omega and Seokjin’s ass is looking good. 

Yoonig makes sure to slam the door closed knowing that Seokjin didn’t hear him come in and he smirks when Seokjin jumps with a yelp, dropping the rag in his hand on the floor. Seokjin turns with a frown on his face, ready to give whoever scared him hell but the moment he sees Yoongi, Seokjin’s face relaxes and he clears his throat. He removes his earbuds and shoves them in his pocket.

“You’re back.”

“I am,” Yoongi states as he walks over to his desk.

“I can leave and let you get work done.”

Yoongi shakes his head as he sits in his chair and loosens the tie around his neck. He stares at Seokjin from across the room and licks his lips, “You’re fine. Do what you need to do, ‘mega.”

Seokjin’s cheek flush and he nods his head, happily going back to cleaning. Yoongi sighs as his body sinks into his chair and he closes his eyes for a moment. He inhales and breathes in the scent of spiced peaches. He is sure that Seokjin has at some point sat in his chair while he was away which makes Yoongi chuckle to himself. His omega is such a brat. Opening his eyes, Yoongi focuses on the task at hand and turns on his computer, typing in his passcode and using the retina scanner that Namjoon installed. 

While he works, Yoongi can hear Seokjin humming to himself. He can smell the cleaning products and they make his nose itch. Clearing his throat, Yoongi looks from his computer and Seokjin’s eyes are already on him.

“Open a window, it’s stuffy in here.”

Seokjin follows Yoongi’s order without complaint and Yoongi tracks his every move. Seokjin’s thighs look strong and mighty thick in those slacks. Yoongi feels his pants start to tighten around his groin and he grunts, trying to adjust himself without Seokjin noticing. 

“Mega?”

Seokjin turns to face Yoongi, a soft smile on his face as he pushes a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Pour me a drink?”

“Anything?” 

Yoongi thinks over his choices and nods his head.

“Anything is good.”

Seokjin makes his way over to a liquor cabinet that is built into the bookshelves. It’s large and juts out like a bay window with a woven cane backsplash and crystal clear glass facing. Inside bottles of whisky, bourbon and soju sit neatly together in groups separated by proof and price. Glasses are set out, face down to keep dust from getting into them and are covered with a soft clean linen that is used to wipe fingerprints. Silently, Seokjin prepares a glass for Yoongi, filling it halfway with Hibiki whisky. There is a subtle scent of sandalwood and rose that burns Seokjin’s nose as he replaces the cap but he ignores it. He is more of a red wine fan but can appreciate the dedication to whisky. 

Holding the glass carefully in his hands, Seokjin makes his way over to Yoongi, keeping his eyes on the floor before him, so that he doesn’t trip. Yoongi calls his name and Seokjin looks up, he sees the teasing smile on the alpha’s lips and his face heats up. Seokjin offers a smile and it soon turns into a grimace as the toe of his shoe catches the lip of the area rug and sends Seokjin’s jerking forward. He catches himself before he falls face first onto the floor but the whisky in the glass shoots forward and drenches Yoongi’s pants.

Seokjin gasps in horror while Yoongi just stares unblinking at the wet spot on his pants. Seokjin starts to panic and hastily drops to his knees before Yoongi. Clutching a cloth in his hand, Seokjin pats at Yoongi’s crotch and stammers out a million apologies. His scent is sharp with fear, the spice of it making Yoongi swallow thickly on his spit.

“Jin-”

“I-I’m so sorry!”

“Jin-”

“It was an accident.”

“Seokjin!”

Seokjin freezes mid pat and he tenses when Yoongi grabs his chin forcing him to look up into his dark eyes. Thin flecks of red bleed into the brown and Seokjin’s inner wolf rolls onto its back. Yoongi licks his lower lip, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he runs the pad of his thumb across the soft plushness of Seokjin’s lower lip. He lets his blunt nail dig into the tender flesh, harsh enough to sting but not enough to break the skin. Seokjin’s eyes are wide but start to drop into a hooded gaze as Yoongi pulls his face closer to the wet patch between his legs.

“Clean it up, ‘Mega…properly.” 

The words come out in a growl and Seokjin’s whole body shutters as slick slips out and dampens his underwear. Warmed peaches with a splash of vanilla and cinnamon; Yoongi’s mouth waters and he bites his tongue. Seokjin’s hands shake as he grabs onto the belt buckle in front of him and tug it until it comes loose. Keeping his eyes on the task at hand, Seokjin fumbles with the button on Yoongi’s pants and he curses to himself as the zipper gets stuck. He can already picture himself clearly in his mind, on his knees before such a handsome and strong alpha, bumbling around like a baby fawn…

“Slowly, baby. Take it slow,” Yoongi’s voice is deep and soothing, it shoots right to Seokjin’s core and he leaks more slick. Yoongi’s nostrils flare and he huffs a rumbling growl as he pushes Seokjin’s face closer to where he wants him most.

The button comes undone and the zipper pulls down easily enough with a little wiggling on Seokjin’s part. The black fabric of Yoongi’s briefs is pulled flush against his hardened cock, the material doing every little to hide how heavy his balls sit between legs. Seokjin whines as he presses his nose into the crease of Yoongi’s thighs where his scent is the strongest. His jaw falls slack as he mouths at the bulge and moans as precum seeps through, mixing with the whisky to burn Seokjin’s tongue. 

A hand falls to Seokjin’s hair and his tremors taper off at the comforting weight of Yoongi’s hand, the blunt nails dragging through his hair and against his scalp puts Seokjin’s mind at ease. 

Alpha. Alpha has me. Alpha will guide me.

Seokjin doesn’t even bother to use his hands to tug Yoongi’s underwear down, he waits and watches with shaky breaths as Yoongi tugs the fabric just low enough for his dick to spring free, slapping against Seokjin’s lips. There is no time wasted before Seokjin is kitten licking the flushed tip, greedily swallowing every dribble of precum that Yoongi gives him. As more comes, Seokjin opens his mouth wider and sucks two inches in before he is a moaning mess between Yoongi’s legs. 

The grip on his hair tightens and Yoongi purrs in approval. He knew Seokjin’s sinful mouth would feel like heaven. He knew it the moment he saw the omega and now that Seokjin is kneeling before him, sucking him so good; all he knows is mine. Seokjin is his and his alone. No one else will ever know the pleasure that his throat can give, the softness of his lips as they brush against his dark pubes or the sweet scent that is growing thicker in the air. Seokjin gags around Yoongi’s cock and Yoongi curses, his toes curling as he fights to keep himself from pushing himself deeper down the omega’s throat.

“That’s a good boy. Taking Alpha so well, good Omega.”

The praise makes tears come to Seokjin’s eyes or it could be the lack of air in his lungs. As Yoongi starts to fuck his mouth gently, Seokjin’s mind cuts off and he falls into the pleasurable headspace of pleasing the alpha. It isn’t until Yoongi is cursing above him, grunting low in his chest that Seokjin comes back to himself and he moans as Yoongi comes in his mouth. It’s tangy, bitter with a subtle sweetness that makes Seokjin gag as he swallows it all down.

He pulls away from Yoongi, gasping for air and Yoongi fists his hair tightly, pulling Seokjin upward, so that he is now standing on his knees. Yoongi’s eyes are a gleaming red, no brown to be found and Seokjin purrs, chasing after bitten lips that look so kissable. As their lips touch, Yoongi’s alpha howls in delight. The taste of himself on Seokjin’s tongue twists deep in his gut, spreading a fire through his body that only Seokjin’s gushing slick can put out.

He yanks Seokjin up to his feet and traps him between the desk and himself. Rising to his feet, Yoongi grabs Seokjin’s shirt and tugs it from his pants, the hem wrinkled as it hangs loose on Seokjin’s waist. Wordlessly, Yoongi rips the material down the middle, the buttons scattering in all directions. The white shirt is pushed open until Seokjin’s nipples are visible and Yoongi purrs loudly, it’s deep and inviting, making Seokjin’s knees knock together as he quickly spreads his legs to give Yoongi enough room. 

Yoongi shuffles forward and wraps a hand around Seokjin’s throat, holding him in place as he noses at the raised skin of his scent gland. His tongue is hot and wet as he licks at the flesh, pulling that sweet peachy scent from Seokjin tenfold. His lips are soft, so soft for someone who can kill without a second thought and Seokjin shakes that idea from his mind. He focuses on the way Yoongi samples his skin with tiny nips and sucks. His teeth don’t leave marks but goosebumps rise along the damp path they lead to Seokjin’s nipples, pebbled and tempting. 

The moment Yoongi’s lips wrap around one, Seokjin throws his head back and his hands shoot out to grab onto Yoongi. He has to hold on to something or else he will destroy everything in sight. 

“A-Alpha!” 

Seokjin’s voice is loud, so very loud and Yoongi chuckles against his flushed skin.

“So sensitive. I haven’t even touched you properly…” 

The words are teasing enough that Seokjin’s whole face darkens and Yoongi licks his lips. 

“Such a pretty sight you are, bet you even taste as good as you look.”

Seokjin whines once more as Yoongi keeps suckling and licking his nipples, tweaking the buds between his fingers and pulling at the soft tissue. Yoongi can feel the way Seokjin’s pulse drums under his skin and it makes his alpha preen. 

“Present for me, darling. Show alpha what’s his.”

Stepping away from Seokjin, Yoongi watches in amusement as the older omega scrambles to turn around and lay flat on his stomach on top of Yoongi’s desk. Some papers flutter to the floor but Yoongi isn’t concerned with them. The sight of Seokjin’s pert ass sticking out has his full attention, even more so the wet patch from where slick has leaked through. Yoongi palms Seokjin’s cheeks with his two hands and spreads them as best he can while they are covered. He presses forward and rubs his hardened length along the fabric making Seokjin whine loudly.

“What should I expect to see, darling? You wearing cute little panties or something slutty for me?” 

Seokjin shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing as he fails to form a coherent sentence to answer Yoongi’s question. Yoongi clicks his tongue and slaps Seokjin’s right cheek making the omega jerk forward, the edge of the desk digging into his thighs and pinching the skin. Yoongi reaches around to unclasp the button of Seokjin’s pants and pulls the tight fabric down his thighs, just below his knees. The sight that greets him is a pair of checkered pink and white cheeky panties with white lace along the trim. There is a wet patch where Seokjin is leaking slick and Yoongi hums in approval.

“My cute Omega,” Yoongi mummers as he lowers himself to his knees behind Seokjin and presses a tender kiss to the small of Seokjin’s back. The spicy scent of cinnamon covered peaches is so strong that Yoongi can’t taste it in the back of his throat. His tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth and he struggles to control himself as his Alpha claws at his heart.

“So fucking pretty with your little fucking waist.” 

Yoongi drags his nose along the back of Seokjin’s thigh and bites the meaty part of his right cheek. Seokjin inhales sharply and his whole body shakes, the wet spot on his panties growing larger right before Yoongi’s eyes. Licking his lips, Yoongi reaches up and traces the white lace with his fingertips. 

“Tell me ‘mega, do you want my mouth here-” Yoongi ghosts his fingers over the soaked patch of fabric, hardly applying any pressure to Seokjin’s leaking core, “or here?” Yoongi slides his fingers to the front of Seokjin’s panties, following the hardened line of the cocklet that is hidden.

Seokjin’s mind is mush, a puddle of slick and horny thoughts that don’t even make sense to himself. He wants all of Yoongi and in turn he wants to give all of himself away. He will take everything that Yoongi will give and more.

“Will you take everything?” Yoongi’s voice is caught between amusement and wonder; there is a hint of a challenge that makes Seokjin nod his head dumbly.

“W-Want A-Alpha!” 

Yoongi tugs down Seokjin’s panties and inhales deeply, growling as he stares at the puckered hole that releases another glop of slick. It slides down Seokjin’s inner thigh and Yoongi licks it right up, slurping at the sensitive muscle without any warning. Seokjin screams loudly, his voice cracking as he begs for Yoongi to use his tongue and fingers. He wants to, needs to come. He can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, alighting every since nerve and blood vessels aflame as his mind chants alpha, alpha, alpha!

Yoongi gorges himself on the feast before him. His tongue can hardly reach deep enough inside of Seokjin, so he uses two fingers to milk the omega, making his hands and face sticky with slick. Seokjin is a sobbing mess, begging for release and demanding that Yoongi make him come at least twice on his tongue alone. It is a challenge that Yoongi takes to heart. Having had his fill for now of Seokjin’s slick, Yoongi twirls Seokjin around and grins devilishly at the perfect mouthful of cock before him. Omegas are never more than three inches and Seokjin is an easy two, he rests nicely against Yoongi’s tongue as he sucks him dry.

By the time Yoongi has pulled two releases from Seokjin, the elder male is a shaking sobbing mess of spit, slick and cum. He’s sweaty and marked up, his skin flushed with bite marks from Yoongi being unable to control himself. Such a pretty sight and all for Yoongi’s eyes only. Standing behind Seokjin, Yoongi peppers kisses to the base of Seokjin’s neck and massages his hips with his strong hands. Seokjin melts into the touch, the body heat welcoming against the coolness of the desk.

Yoongi fists the base of his length and glides the tip between Seokjin’s cheeks, collecting slick to make the slide inside easier, though Yoongi is sure there will be no resistance. He made sure to prepare Seokjin for what he has between his legs. Yoongi isn’t one to brag but his knot is massive and what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth. Seokjin reaches back with sweaty fingers and grabs at Yoongi’s arm, his finger slipping twice before Yoongi places his hand overtop the back of Seokjin’s and laces their fingers together.

“Easy, darling.”

Yoongi pushes himself forward and the head of his cock presses against the wet ring of muscles before it gives way. He slips in with no resistance until his hips press into Seokjin’s ass. Seokjin moans loudly, the air punched from his lungs as his body spasms to make room for Yoongi. Yoongi gives Seokjin a little time to adjust to his size before he pulls back, the drag of him against the velvety walls makes Seokjin cry out. His hand squeezes Yoongi’s tightly as sweat gathers at his brow. 

“F-Fuck! Yesssss!” Seokjin’s voice is warped, a mix between a whine and a purr. It makes Yoongi’s stomach clench and his alpha howls once more. Yoongi stares down at where their bodies are connected. His cock gleams in the low lighting of the room, wet and shiny with the omega’s slick that squelches loudly in his ears. Loud moans, breathy ‘oh’ and half whined ‘mores’ echo in the air and merge with the rhythmic smacking of Yoongi’s pelvis against Seokjin’s ass and thighs. His fingers dig into Seokjin’s hips, holding the omega in place as Yoongi growls, his chest rumbling with pride as Seokjin falls apart before him.

“S-Sound so pretty Omega,” Yoongi groans, licking over his canines that have sharpened at the sight of the omega’s bared neck. “Taking Alpha so good,” Yoongi slides a hand up the length of Seokjin’s arm, over his shoulder and tangles his fingers in the honey brown hair at the nape of his neck. “Always knew you would open so prettily.” 

Tugging on Seokjin’s hair, Yoongi makes the older man’s back arch more and he sinks deeper in the wet warmth that is Seokjin. Seokjin mewls, his words nothing more than babble as he begs for more, drooling all over the desk beneath him as Yoongi fucks him good and hard. The white of his shirt is damp with his sweat, the material now translucent as it sticks to his skin and catches the precum that dribbles from his cocklet.

A strong hand wraps around his tiny cock and Seokjin’s whole body shutters as Yoongi starts to tease the weeping tip. Yoongi hums in appreciation and tugs on Seokjin’s hair more, forcing the omega’s body to lift from the desk. Seokjin is quick to grab onto Yoongi’s forearms, holding himself up before he can fall. His back is arched as far as it can go, his neck is exposed to Yoongi, his gums throbbing and teeth itching to sink into the tender flesh and claim Seokjin as his own.

Turning his head slightly, Yoongi licks a fat wet strip up the side of Seokjin’s neck, right over the swollen scent gland and his eyes flash red. The sweetest fruit, fresh and ripe, juicy and light is a heavy nectar on Yoongi’s tongue as he drowns himself in Seokjin’s peach scent. It’s warmer, fuller with hints of cinnamon, like peach cobbler. Yoongi’s inner wolf is feral, howling at the alpha to claim his mate once and for all.

“Alpha! A-Alpha please!” Seokjin cries with tears in the corners of his eyes. 

Yoongi knows what the omega is asking for but he wants him to say it. He wants to hear the words, he wants Seokjin to beg. Yoongi chuckles something between a growl and a laugh as Seokjin tightens around his cock.

“Please what, Omega? Tell Alpha what you want.” 

Seokjin grits his teeth, sweat pouring down his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. Yoongi is rearranging his insides, carving a place for only him; ruining him for anyone else. Yoongi’s grip on his cocklet is teasing as he covers it with his whole fist and Seokjin can feel himself getting closer to his release. He needs Yoongi’s knot, and wants his bite!

“K-Knot me! O-Oh…f-fuck, mark me!”

Yoongi’s mouth waters and he sucks at Seokjin’s scent gland, drinking down the sweet peach as his knot swells at the base. Seokjin’s whole body is on the brink of falling off the edge, Yoongi just needs to push him a little farther. Opening his mouth wider, Yoongi grunts as he thrusts harshly into Seokjin, his knot popping deep inside. Seokjin screams as Yoongi’s teeth sink into the side of his neck, breaking the skin around his scent gland.

Blood floods Yoongi’s mouth and he comes with a growl deep in his chest, vibrating against Seokjin’s back as the omega sags against him. Seokjin comes, squirting around Yoongi’s cock and dribbling in his hand. It’s messy; wet and hot as the room fills with the scent of both the alpha and omega mixed together. Yoongi licks at the mark on Seokjin’s neck, closing the wound with his saliva easily before he kisses the newly formed mating mark. He noses at the wet skin and hums in delight as Seokjin’s body presses harder into his.

“Easy, ‘mega,” Yoongi whispers as he lowers the both of them into the chair behind him. Seokjin sits in his lap, spent and happy. Soft purrs rumble in his throat as he starts to scent Yoongi’s neck, his nose pressing into the flushed scent gland and Yoongi cranes his neck to give Seokjin more access.

“Mark me. Go head, baby.”

Yoongi encourages, scratching at the nape of Seokjin’s neck before he rests his hand fully on the sweaty skin. Seokjin sniffs and licks at the skin, his purrs growing in volume as smoked thyme sits in his throat. He sinks his teeth into Yoongi’s neck, applying more force to break the skin with his own blunt canines. Something warm wraps around their minds, a silk soft link, stronger than iron that binds the two of them together.

Yoongi nuzzles his cheek against Seokjin’s forehead, purring deeply before he presses a kiss to Seokjin’s sweaty hair. He looks at the mess that is his desk, paper thrown about, wet spots here and there; of what? Yoongi isn’t fully sure but he doesn’t care. It is a mess to worry about later.

As if reading his mind, Seokjin looks at the desk and pouts to which Yoongi kisses his new mating mark softly before he speaks.

“We can clean up once my knot goes down.”

“Stay with me?” Seokjin whispers and Yoongi huffs a deep sigh as he wraps an arm around Seokjin’s waist, making sure not to get the omega’s cum on his bare skin. He wipes his hand on Seokjin’s black pants and laughs as Seokjin whines in disgust.

Seokjin takes a deep breath and his brows furrow, “Yoongi?” 

“Yes?”

“The window was open.”

Yoongi’s lips split into a smile and he nuzzles his nose against Seokjin’s temple, “Wanted everyone to hear that you're mine.”

Seokjin stands in the middle of his shared closet with Yoongi, grumbling to himself as he struggles to button the tan trousers that hang on his hips. Lately, Seokjin has noticed that a lot of his more form fitting clothing isn’t as easy to put on. Seokjin thinks over the last few days and a frown slowly starts to form on his face. He has random cravings throughout the week, mostly kimchi jjigae or fried chicken, two meals that he tries not to eat all the time.

Now that he thinks about it, he has eaten fried chicken at least four times this week and has had kimchi jjigae twice a day. Seokjin stares down at his stomach and clicks his tongue, he always gets cravings when his heat is near.

Seokjin chews on the inside of his cheek as he tries to mentally track when his heat will hit. As he does the math in his head, Seokjin feels his blood run cold. If his math is right (it is), he should have had his heat sometime last month. Seokjin’s heat is never late and he would have noticed sooner but time moves differently with his mate. When Yoongi is near Seokjin, it is as if time doesn’t exist or it simply forgets about them. They are in their own world when with each other and nothing else matters. 

Kicking out of his pants, Seokjin rushes over to the full length mirror and turns to the side. He stares at himself, hard, scrutinizing every inch of himself as he looks up and down. He squints his eyes as he focuses on his stomach, it doesn’t look any different, there is no baby bump and truthfully he doesn’t feel any different. Besides the cravings, Seokjin feels perfectly fine.

He shakes his head and dismisses the whole idea. Maybe having a mate has changed his body’s chemistry? Maybe his heat and Yoongi’s rut are linked through the mating bond? Seokjin is sure he has read about that happening to other mated couples before online.

“What are you doing, darling?” 

Seokjin startles from the sudden appearance of Yoongi in the mirror. He is so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the alpha approaching. Seokjin’s ears burn bright and he crosses his arms over his stomach, hiding his stomach and looking down at the floor while he digs his sock-covered toes into the plush area rug beneath him. Yoongi watches his mate in the mirror and raises one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows.

“I asked a question, ‘mega.”

Seokjin chews on his bottom lip and glances up into the mirror, looking at Yoongi’s reflection from underneath his lashes.

“N-Nothing…”

“You say nothing-” Yoongi steps into the walk-in closet, closing the distance with each step forward, “and yet, you look guilty of something.”

His arms wrap around Seokjin’s waist, his hands resting on top of Seokjin’s arm. The way he thumbs at the skin on Seokjin’s wrist, pulls his scent out little by little. Yoongi hums as he skims his nose along the back of Seokjin’s shoulder, up the length of his neck before he presses a sweet kiss the raised skin of Seokjin’s scent gland. Seokjin whimpers, feeling the dampness of Yoongi’s lips. He must have just licked them or applied a balm.

Yoongi flicks his tongue out to tease the gland and his body tenses, Seokjin can hear his blood rushing behind his ears as his heart pounds harshly against his ribcage. He wonders if Yoongi can feel it too? Another quick lick to Seokjin’s scent gland makes him shiver in Yoongi’s arms and goosebumps rise on his skin. Yoongi spins Seokjin around so that they are facing each other, his eyes are ruby red, his fangs are elongated, poking out over his bottom lip as he frowns.

Seokjin looks away, giving his attention to the empty spot on the wall. Now that he’s looking at it, Seokjin is sure that he could find a nice piece of artwork to hang there. Keeping himself distracted, Seokjin ignores the way Yoongi huffs in annoyance before the alpha’s hands trail to the front of his stomach. Seokjin growls defensively and Yoongi snarls, his lips curling up to show his fangs even more. Seokjin's eyes bleed blue, submissive and frozen as Yoongi squats down in front of him. 

“Y-Yoongi-”

Seokjin can’t get his words out, his thoughts are cut off by the harshness at which Yoongi pushes his hands away from his stomach. The air is cool, bitingly so as it washes over his exposed stomach. The fabric of his shirt now balled tightly in Yoongi’s fists. The tip of Yoongi’s nose is warm, so soothing and safe as it presses into the hollow of Seokjin’s navel. Yoongi inhales deeply, the air rushing over Seokjin’s skin as Yoongi breathes him in.

There is the faintest trace of heavy cream splashed over warmed spiced peaches. His nose trails drown the darkened curls of belly hair until the scent of heavy cream is stronger; just a few inches to the left of Seokjin’s happy trail. Yoongi growls, low in his chest, it’s not a threat. The vibration skins into Seokjin’s bones and turns him to mush. He sinks into Yoongi’s arms, a puddle of honey goo, eyes still blue as he purrs against Yoongi’s neck.

Tiny kitten licks to Yoongi’s scent gland, mixed with the heavy cream makes the alpha inside Yoongi wag its tail and run in circles. His mate is pupped! Seokjin is in fact pregnant.

It’s midday, the sun is high in the sky and there is a humid breeze that refuses to break. Music, splash and shouting fills the outside air. Yoongi is hosting a pool party to show face with the next chief commissioner. The guy is easy enough to put on Yoongi’s payroll but it doesn’t hurt to show him and his friends a little of the sweet life to cement the deal. Yoongi is dressed in a pair of black swim trunks that stop just above his knees. His black flip flops are tucked neatly under a chair with a black and gold towel hung over the back. He sits at the edge of the pool, his feet submerged midway up his calves with a glass of champagne in his hand.

The people around him are drinking and laughing, having a good time as the waitstaff walk around with refreshments and hors d'oeuvres. In the pool, the terror twins (Jungkook and Taehyung) are playing a game of chicken with Hoseok and Jimin. Namjoon is currently out of the house with Seokjin. The older omega doesn’t have a bathing suit that fits and as much as Yoongi wanted him to wear one of his shirts, Seokjin insisted that he get something to wear. Namjoon, being the only one who didn’t change into his swimwear yet, went with Seokjin and they were gone for a little over an hour.

“Master Min?” 

Yoongi looks up when one of the waitstaff offers him a selection of orange or orange pineapple mimosas. Yoongi switches out his glass for the orange pineapple mimosa and nods his head in thanks. Sipping at the sweet drink, Yoongi lifts his face towards the sun and sighs; it really is a beautiful day. 

In the distance a phone rings and Haeun wipes her hands on her apron before she answers the landline.

“Min residence. Haeun speaking, how may I direct your call?” 

“Haeun!” Namjoon’s voice spills from the speakers in a panic. “Haeun! Y-You have to tell Yoongi it’s time!”

“Time? Time for what, Master Namjoon?”

“Seokjin’s water broke!”

“Oh!” Haeun’s eyes widen at the news and she tells Namjoon to text the hospital information to Yoongi’s phone before she hangs up and rushes out the back door. “Master Min! Master Min!”

Haeun is out of breath by the time she reaches Yoongi’s side. He is staring at her with worried eyes, his scent burning as the rest of his pack members swim over to his side of the pool. 

“I-It’s Master Jin!”

“Spit it out, Haeun!” Yoongi snaps, his eyes bleeding red as his wolf starts to creep to the surface.

“The baby! The baby is coming!”

Yoongi’s blood freezes and it feels like all the warmth in the world has slipped away. He stares up at Haeun with unseeing eyes. His ears are suddenly muffled by cotton or maybe he has fallen under the water? It’s hard to understand anything but the cold touch of Hoseok’s hand on his shoulder pulls Yoongi from whatever headspace he fell into.

“Come on man! You’re bout to be a dad!!”

“We’ll handle things here and meet you at the hospital,” Jimin informs Yoongi as Taehyung and Jungkook start to round up the people in the pool.

Yoongi nods his head and allows for Hoseok and Haeun to pull him into the house to throw on a change of clothes. A simple pair of black slacks, tucks a white t-shirt into it and throws a black oversized jacket with a pair of low dunk black and white Nikes. His hair is still wet from the pool and hangs in his eyes but Yoongi doesn’t care. He jumps into the passenger seat of Hoseok’s car and the two of them take off towards the hospital that Namjoon texted him the address to. 

Traffic is backed up, bumper to bumper and Yoongi is on the phone with a crying Seokjin. The omega is in pain and distressed because Yoongi isn’t by his side. Namjoon’s voice is heard in the background but Seokjin snaps at Namjoon, telling the alpha not to touch him unless he wants to lose a few fingers. 

“I know darling, alpha will be there soon. Hang in there.”

“A-Alpha it hurts!”

Seokjin’s tears clog his throat and he struggles to breathe as the pup slowly makes its way down, down, down. He wants Yoongi, he wants his alpha, now! From his phone Namjoon hacks the light system and gives green lights the whole way to the hospital. Most of the traffic isn’t going Yoongi’s way, so it soon clears up and Hoseok reaches the hospital in a little over forty minutes. 

Yoongi rushes into the hospital and walks right past the security detail that Namjoon has set up around the delivery room. A nurse helps Yoongi get disinfected and dressed into a set of scrubs before he enters the delivery room. Seokjin is screaming, refusing to deliver the pup, his eyes are bright blue, and his teeth are sharper than normal.

Yoongi growls low in his throat, smoked thyme flooding the room and making Seokjin’s whole body fall lax. From Seokjin’s side, Namjoon gives Yoongi a thankful smile and hurries out of the room with a quick, “Good luck, Hyungs.” 

Yoongi takes his place beside Seokjin, offering the omega his hand to hold. The doctors ask if Seokjin would like any pain medicine and he agrees, now feeling safe enough to let himself be put under the influence of medical drugs. His alpha is by his side, Yoongi will not let anything happen to him or their pup.

“Ready, darling?” 

Seokjin whimpers with a nod of his head and Yoongi kisses his sweaty temple. 

“I’m right here. Alpha is right here with you.”

The doctor gets in between Seokjin’s legs that are raised on a set of stirrups and nods his head.

“Let’s deliver a healthy pup!”

In the waiting room, Hoseok sits with his ankles crossed while Namjoon paces back and forth. This is going to be the first pack pup and Seokjin wanted to keep the gender unknown until the birth. Of course everyone made bets on the gender but right now, the pack is hoping for a healthy pup, no matter the gender. A half hour in, the rest of the pack walks into the hospital and finds their way to the VIP floor where Hoseok and Namjoon are waiting.

“Any news?” Taehyung questions, his face flushed from running up all the flight of steps.

“Last we heard, Seokjin was only four centimeters dilated…whatever that means,” Hoseok informs and Namjoon opens his mouth to answer but the doors to the delivery room open and an older female comes out with a large smile on her face. 

“The Min pack?” 

“That’s us,” Jimin states, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Taehyung and Jungkook both grab hold of his hands and lace their fingers together to keep the shorter omega from bouncing too much.

“The pack omega is healthy as is the pup. Your pack alpha wanted me to inform you that the maknaes won the bet.”

The doctor leaves and the waiting room is silent. Everyone just stares at the three youngest and Jimin breaks down in tears.

“It’s a girl!” He sobs happily, just picturing all the cute outfits he can buy for the pack pup.

Yoongi stands in the doorway of the nursery, his eyes are soft, his face relaxed as he stares at the sleeping omega in the rocking chair. Seokjin is sound asleep, his head tilted to one shoulder as he snores gently. A basket of unfolded baby clothing sits beside Seokjin on the side table while a pair of pink tights rests in Seokjin’s lap. Yoongi doesn’t stop the smile that takes over his face, his mate is too cute. Such a perfect omega, made for him and his pup.

Yoongi steps into the room and peaks into the crib, where his pup, Miyoung sleeps soundly. Her features are a mix of himself and Seokjin. She has Seokjin’s full lips and happy eyes while Yoongi’s button nose and face structure stand out. She is a chunky baby, all rolls and happy coos. At three months old, Yoongi can’t be any more in love. As he stares down at his pup, Miyoung’s face scrunches up and she does a big stretch in her sleep before she farts loudly. 

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the sound, his nose twists at the sour smell. Miyoung’s lips start to twitch and Yoongi reaches down into the crib. He scoops his daughter into his arms and gags. The pup smells worse than the foulest of scents. Yoongi isn’t sure why she smells this way, he is pretty sure that babies shouldn’t smell worse than spoiled milk.

Miyoung opens her eyes, already wet with unshed tears and Yoongi smiles down at her. He strokes her chubby cheek with a finger and brings her close to nuzzle his nose into the crook of her neck.

“Hello, babygirl.”

Yoongi keeps his tone soft, so that he doesn’t wake Seokjin from his mid afternoon nap. Laying the baby down on the changing table, Yoongi tries his best to make quick work of changing Miyoung’s diaper. The little girl is a wiggle worm and somehow her foot goes right into the dirty diaper making Yoongi frown. He reaches for another wipe to clean Miyoung’s foot and as he pulls his hand back, she kicks her foot out and catches the back of Yoongi’s hand.

“Miyoung,” Yoongi sighs as he grimaces. The warmth and the squish on his skin is not a pleasant feeling. 

“You’re getting poop everywhere.”

Yoongi glances over his shoulder to see that Seokjin is awake and watching him with laughing eyes. Yoongi feels heat attack his face and he turns back around to finish cleaning and changing Miyoung. Holding the baby in his arms, Yoongi turns to face his mate and Seokjin is now on his feet, rubbing his eyes.

“Did we wake you?” 

Seokjin shakes his head at Yoongi’s question and yawns, “My tits hurt and I need to pump.”

Yoongi looks at the watch on his wrist and sees that it is time for Miyoung’s feeding. Walking over towards Seokjin, Yoongi easily gathers the bag that holds most of Seokjin’s breastfeeding supplies and equipment. He rocks Miyoung from side to side while Seokjin sets himself up to pump. He leaves his left side untouched and Yoongi understands that Miyoung will drink straight from the nipple.

“Okay, hand her over.”

As Yoongi hands his daughter to the awaiting omega he can’t help but pout, “It’s not fair.”

“Mmm?” Seokjin pays Yoongi little mind as he tugs down the collar of his shirt to feed Miyoung.

“Why can’t I help you?”

Miyoung latches onto Seokjin’s puffy nipple easily and starts to suckle, her tiny hand fisting the material of Seokjin’s shirt.

“What are you talking about Yoon? You help me.”

Yoongi drops to his knees in front of Seokjin and makes room for himself between his omega’s 

thighs. Seokjin stares down at him and gulps; the scent of spiced peaches tickles Yoongi’s nose. Yoongi’s hands are large and warm as they rest on Seokjin’s hips and massage the soft skin. He lets his fingers work their magic, not once taking his eyes off of Seokjin’s. Leaning in, Yoongi kisses the scarred skin of Seokjin’s tummy and licks at the stretch marks. 

“I wanna taste too, ‘mega.”

Seokjin inhales a shaky breath, between the look in Yoongi’s eyes and his words, Seokjin feels feverish. He has never thought of Yoongi drinking from him but now that the idea is in his mind, the imagery is tempting. Yoongi smiles up at Seokjin, looking at him through his lashes, looking very much like a cat that got the cream…or is about to get the cream. Seokjin sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and nods his head quickly, two times. Yoongi wastes no time in removing the pump from Seokjin’s chest and quickly attacking his lips to the flushed and puffy nipple. 

The milk is sweet and coats Yoongi’s tongue like honey. It sprays into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and making him moan as he swallows mouthful after mouthful. He doesn’t have to suck very hard, the constant stream of milk seems never ending and Yoongi wonders if this is what Seokjin means by a let down. He continues to massage Seokjin’s hips, rutting his hips against the edge of the rocking chair as his length hardens in his slacks. 

Seokjin bites his lip to keep from moaning. The way Yoongi drinks from him feels amazing, it’s a relief that Miyoung and the pump don’t fully give him. Yoongi is able to draw more from him and he applies just the right amount of pressure to help guild the milk flow. Seokjin sighs as he relaxes fully into the rocking chair and looks down at his two loves. He can feel the way Yoongi is humping against the rocking chair, it takes all of Seokjin’s will to not tease the needy alpha in front of him. The warmth from Yoongi’s hands and mouth is soothing; it makes a need bubble in Seokjin’s stomach that wasn’t there before.

“I-I think that’s enough.”

Seokjin pushes Yoongi’s face away from his chest gently, not wanting to jostle Miyoung. Yoongi allows for Seokjin to push him away and when he looks up at the omega, Seokjin’s face is flushed. There is a bead of white on Yoongi’s lower lip and as he licks it, he moans softly, not once taking his eyes from Seokjin’s.

“How can you taste so good, nae sarang?” Yoongi slowly rises to his feet and Seokjin can see the bulge in his pants. “Everything about you is delectable,” he inhales deeply and his eyes flash red as spiced peaches sting his nose, “should I eat something else?” 

Yoongi sits in the kitchen, eating a salad while scrolling on his phone. He has a flight to catch soon, Jungkook should be here any moment to pick him up. The sound of meaty skin slapping against the tiled floor at a quickening rate catches Yoongi’s attention and he glances at the doorway. A curl mop of dark brown hair, pulled into two space buns catches Yoongi’s eyes and he smiles. Miyoung has found him and is speeding his way. Setting his phone down, Yoongi turns in the chair, watching as his little pup crawls into the kitchen, dressed in a cute sunshine yellow onesies with white and clouds and daisy printed all over it.

Her gummy smile is identical to Yoongi’s and she squeals in delight at the sight of her Appa. Miyoung crawls faster, giggling when Seokjin’s shout of surprise sounds from somewhere in the home. Yoongi smirks as his daughter grabs onto the leg of the chair and pulls herself up. Her tiny hand fists his pants and tug while babbling about her great escape.

“Listen here you little Houdini,” Yoongi starts as he scoops Miyoung up into his arms and sets her on the table tops, “you’re going to give your daddy a heart attack one of these days.”

Miyoung pays Yoongi’s words no mind as she reaches out and grabs his nose with her tiny hand. Yoongi huffs a laugh and wiggles his nose back and forth making Miyoung giggle wildly. Her hand falls to his lips and he presses a million little kisses to her palm. Seokjin comes into the kitchen minutes later, having followed the sounds of Miyoung’s laughter. Seokjin’s brown hair is messy, a mix of curls and waves. Some of it hangs in his eyes creating a soft curtain that makes him look much younger than he really is.

“Baby,” Seokjin scolds lightly as he walks into the kitchen and Miyoung looks at him with wide, wet eyes. “You’re too fast for Daddy. We were supposed to see Appa together.”

The whine in Seokjin’s voice makes Yoongi snort and he picks Miyoung up from the table to hold her in his arms. Their cheeks squish together and they both smile at Seokjin who just shakes his head with the fondest of smiles on his face. 

“You got your Appa, huh?” Seokjin grins as Miyoung turns her head and gums at Yoongi’s cheek, slobbering all over him.

Yoongi’s phone chimes as a car horn honks from outside. Standing with Miyoung in his arms, Yoongi shoves his phone into his back pocket and offers his hand for Seokjin’s to hold. Together the family of three head to the front door and Yoongi slips his feet into a pair of black shiny shoes. Opening the door, Yoongi turns to face Seokjin who waves at Jungkook who is standing outside of the car with a cigarette in his mouth.

“Be safe okay?” Seokjin whispers as Yoongi pulls him into a kiss. Their noses brush against each other as Yoongi scents Seokjin and he does the same to Miyoung who is holding onto his shirt tightly. 

“I love you so much.” Yoongi pecks Miyoung’s forehead and carefully hands her over to Seokjin. He looks at his mate and kisses his lips once more. “I will text you the moment I touch down. I won’t be gone for more than four days, five at the most. Hoseok will take my place if there are any issues.”

Seokjin nods his head and grabs Miyoung’s hand, “Say bye-bye Appa!”

Miyoung lets Seokjin wave her hand and she smiles wildly at Yoongi, “A-Aaaaappa!”

Seokjin squawks loudly, almost crushing Miyoung in the tightest of hugs while Yoongi’s chest swells with pride. Reaching out he steals Miyoung and cuddles her tightly in his chest. 

“Appa loves you pup. I love you so, so much.” He scents her once more and puckers his lips out to which Miyoung gives him a super wet kiss. 

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

No greater horror than going to reread one of your favourite fics only to realize it was fucking deleted.

BUT THEN YOU REMEMBER THAT YOU SAVED IT ALL A WHILE BACK AND FIND THE SAVED COPY

So now Im just staring at the fucking PDF file of the fic, absolutely flabbergasted and shocked. This is it. This is the only way I'll ever be able to read it now. Holy shit 😭

The author deleted their entire accout too, so I guess they just wanted to get rid of everything. Which, I mean, is fine, it is their work after all. They can do whatever they want with it.

BUT MAN, Im gonna be saving stuff all the time from now on.

[bloodyraremedium]

AU idea where after The Distortion changes into Helen it lets go of Michael Shelley and now he's just also there as a normal(er) guy who hasn't been fully alive in years and is so fucking confused. he still laughs like that though

[ghost-proofbaby]

FIRST IMPRESSIONS (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: eddie faces the perils of being a coffee shop opener, and meets you. you, who's so damn optimistic it should be annoying. you, who makes the job that has given him trouble seem like a cake walk. you, who seemingly bleeds sunshine. god, he should really hate you.

warnings: TWO uses of "y/n", fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), PHYSICAL descriptors used for reader (she has a nose ring and a septum piercing! that's all), eddie is just a bitter and grumpy idiot.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: i apologize in advance for all the technical 'barista' talk in reference to positions. i tried to elaborate on a few of them, haha. also... yes. i gave reader two nose piercings. it's definitely not even more self-projection psh. (because i have three)

the full menu

Eddie Munson is not a morning person.

So, why, for the life of him, he ended up as an opener, he couldn’t tell you. 

It had been a snowball effect. He got tired of working odd jobs here and there to produce enough cash to slip Wayne for bills, decided the quick change made off of fixing up neighbors’ cars or mowing lawns just wasn’t cutting it for his desired spending habits. He was tired of being so restricted by his misfortune; he was tired of watching Wayne pull long shifts only to continue living paycheck to paycheck. He was tired of his friends like Harrington and Buckley having money from their part time gig at the movie store to freely agree to impromptu late nights at Benny’s or seeing the latest slasher films in the theater as they premiered while he had to deliberate over counting change to see if he even had the funds to join in. He was tired of eyeing that guitar in the mall and constantly telling himself one day. 

Eddie Munson had been tired. But now, as he forced himself awake most mornings before the sun even rose, he was exhausted.

Originally, he’d wanted to be a closer. He didn’t mind being the clean up crew, having to spend late nights in a coffee shop sweeping up grounds and scrubbing away the stickiness of the day. But then the hiring manager that interviewed him had hinted towards the fact that their store already had enough closers when he’d spotted Eddie’s availability, made a few off comments about how what they really needed was a couple brave souls to take over opening shift, and that tiresome cycle rang in Eddie’s ears. Before he even had the chance to think it through, in his desperation, he’d insisted that oh, actually, my availability is completely open. I don’t mind working earlier than that. 

What bullshit. Eddie definitely minded working earlier than that. He more than minded it — he loathed it.

Long story short, it had been a series of unfortunate events that led Eddie to where he was now. In his van, fifteen minutes early, staring out at a parking lot bathed in the lingering night as he fought to keep his eyes open. 

The clock on his dash read 4:46 in a taunting blink, flickering against his bleary eyesight and making him question every decision in his life that had led him here. Adjusting to the new job had been easy enough — his trainer was nice enough, learning how to make drinks and what routines were required in the morning had been meticulous but rewarding — except for the time. It wasn’t just his start time that tortured him vehemently; shifts seem to pass miserably slow, the seconds dragging their feet in no hurry to get anywhere in particular. The clock didn’t care if Eddie yearned for his bed and a few extra hours of sleep gifted by a nap. Traffic didn’t either, when he’d hit the highways and catch just the beginnings or the tail end of the morning rush.

You’d think he’d complain more about the commute. But the gas spent on the twenty minute drive to the town over was the least of his concerns.

“Fuckin’ John,” Eddie mutters when a large truck pulls up to the drive thru, a notable regular he’d begun to recognize after not even a month of working there. They had just recently changed their opening time (they used to open an hour earlier, his manager had informed him. Eddie had nearly burst into grateful tears that he’d never experienced that crime of humanity.) 

None of his coworkers had arrived yet. Most lived closer, able to garner extra snoozes on their alarms and shorter drives of contemplation. Eddie only ever envied them on mornings like today.

“We don’t open for, like, another forty minutes, asshole,” Eddie curses out loud to himself, counting down the time until John gives up and drives away. The man would just circle the store like a vulture anyways. He always did; he always had to be the first customer, grabbing his ridiculous coffee order before scurrying off to play cards at the casino, “How do you come here every fuckin’ day and not know that?” 

It took the older man a full four minutes before he finally roughly shifted his truck back into drive, being the farthest thing from gentle as he hit his gas and jerked his vehicle out of the drive thru line. Eddie couldn’t see him clearly through the stubborn darkness, but he could easily imagine that look of irritation at not receiving the caramel frappucino with a quad shot that he seemed to feel entitled to. 

God, that man was a dick. 

Eddie nearly misses another coworker pulling up to park beside him during the spectacle. 

By this point, he’s learned what cars all his coworkers drive. 

Carmen, the fellow barista who had trained him but he now rarely worked with due to her availability being a bit later in the day, drove a bright red 2012 Kia Soul that had certainly seen better days. Nicole, one of the shift leads he worked with often during his opens, drove a small and silver Nissan Versa. The year is lost on him, but he’s willing to bet it was a few years old at this point. James, another shift lead who went by Jamie and never had much to say, drove a Volkswagen that looked to be straight out of the 70s. And that was just the beginning, the ones he could think of off the top of his head while he was still waking up inside his van. 

The car parked beside him wasn’t any of these. He didn’t recognize it at first glance, and found himself doing a double take as his face scrunched up. 

A Jeep. A two-door Jeep Wrangler with vibrant, chipped yellow paint now sat idle beside him. 

Who the fuck drove a yellow Jeep? 

He can’t even bother to be annoyed or fatigued anymore with the mystery presently before him. He can’t see through the tint of the windows, can’t make out the silhouette of who it was. He was well aware that he hadn’t been acquainted with all of his coworkers quite yet – there was a plethora of baristas in the store he’d only heard spoken of in passing rather than properly meeting – but it had seemed like the people who opened always came from the same rotation of sorry suckers. 

Nicole’s car pulls up. So whoever drove the Jeep was not one of the shift leads. 

Five minutes to 5:00 AM, Nicole’s car door opens first and Eddie can hear the Jeep’s engine kill. He’s quick to fumble with his own keys, pulling them from the ignition in a haste and throwing a hand out to blindly grab his apron from his passenger seat.

A deep shade of green. Everyone had one or two of them laying around, and they were the root of the nickname for all new hires: green beans. He had just finally gotten the one embroidered with his name a little over a week ago, and his manager had apologized profusely as she swore it usually didn’t take that long.

Eddie really didn’t care. The moment he started wearing the apron with his name on it, customers had taken to randomly addressing him by it, and it made him fucking uncomfortable. 

“Rise and shine, campers!” Nicole’s voice echoes through the parking lot the moment all three openers are out of their cars. 

Eddie doesn’t answer at first (which isn’t unusual; Nicole was used to his ever-present sleep-deprivation induced silence). He’s too busy nearly tripping over himself as his eyes stay glued on that Jeep, on the door that swings wide open roughly from two parking spaces away as he waits with bated breath. 

Would this new coworker he was about to meet even like him? 

“God, Nicky,” a new voice groans – a girl’s voice.

Ah, fuck. 

Eddie had noticed the mysterious phenomenon of the way everyone who worked here seemed to be attractive to some extent. Nice on the eyes, always smiling and always flirting in a friendly manner to garner more tips. He’d had plenty of bisexual panics in the bathroom anytime one of his coworkers extended that friendly flirtation his way. All the fellow guys (as few as there were) and all the confident girls he’d been in the trenches with – it didn’t matter, they all affected him. 

Hawkins didn’t have nearly as many pretty people. Eddie sort of felt cheated for having lived a mere twenty minutes from a goldmine of such people for so long, completely unaware. But he also felt sort of relieved, knowing that if he were still a teenager barely scraping by in high school, this coffee shop would have been his downfall with awkward stumbles and feelings caught from all those faux smiles and joking winks that his now coworkers laid on heavy with their regulars. 

With this in mind, he doesn’t know why he wasn’t prepared for when you stepped out of the Jeep. Slamming the door shut behind you, your arms were full with an apron that was definitely not green, along with an oversized water bottle and what he thinks is either a cardigan or jacket. A tote bag slung over your shoulder looked to be stuffed full as well. You were a walking cliche for the type of person that people would expect to work at a coffee shop. The type of person that embodied all those jokes of if an alternative person isn’t making my coffee, it’s not going to taste good. 

Eddie should know; he’d been the butt of many of those style of jokes given that he also fit into that category. With his long hair, with his sparse tattoos, with his new nose ring – he knew he was as much of a cliche as you were. 

Didn’t stop him from staring at you, suddenly wide awake. 

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Nicole jokes as she rounds the front of your Jeep, stopping and looking between you and Eddie before she says to you, “You’d think after a month’s vacation you’d be happier to see me.” 

You take two steps forward, lining up right between Eddie and Nicole, and suddenly contort your face to be such an over-exaggerated smile that it’s nearly a grimace. Eddie is so caught up in the scrunch of your nose, he nearly misses the way you grit out a sarcastic “Better?” from between your teeth. 

“Oh, that’s the winner,” Nicole cackles, keys jangling as she shakes them and leads the two of you towards the front of the store. Over her shoulder, she continues to joke, “Keep on smiling like that, and I sense a twenty dollar tip in our future.” 

Eddie still hasn’t said a word. What is he supposed to say? All he can do is trail slightly behind you, doing everything in his power to not let his eyes roam over your legs or backside. You were just wearing black jeans, in line with the same dress-code everyone else followed, but they were doing you favors. 

“Y’know, I think I already saw John’s truck this morning,” your voice was surprisingly pleasant despite the insinuation Nicole had made that your first impression should be grumpy. Far less gritty than Eddie’s would have been had he spoken up, “Think I can sweet talk that out of him? Maybe I’ll ask about his wife. Or- Oh!” you exclaim, bursting with sudden energy that should give Eddie a headache this early, “Put me on bar! I’ll douse his drink in caramel how he likes, that’s sure to tug on his wallet- Sorry, I mean heart-strings.” 

Nicole continues to laugh as she fumbles with unlocking the door, and it’s not lost on Eddie that he has never made any of the fellow baristas laugh like that. Although, to be fair, he has never been quite as enthusiastic as you. He didn’t seemingly bleed sunshine like you. Here the three of you were, outside in the dusky beginnings of a morning, and he could have sworn that the sun had already risen from the light that seemed to emit from you. 

It should have made him nauseated. It kind of did, actually. 

You turn suddenly, just as Nicole finally turns the lock, and face him. Your smile is subtle, eyes so wide he wouldn’t notice the bags even if you had any. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

You stick your hand out and he can see you sticky with it – with hopefulness, with friendliness, with kindness. His stomach churns. 

Nope. Not a chance. 

The moment Nicole opens the door, he’s barely muttering his name back to you, and is rushing past you to enter the store. His shoulder brushes against yours, and he has to tell himself repeatedly he did not just shoulder-check you. He has to tell himself that it’s okay he didn’t meet your level of enthusiasm. He has to tell himself that you’re just another barista, someone else who makes coffee for a living and that this new energy you bring is just due to that vacation that Nicole mentioned. 

It’ll fade. He’ll be fine. At some point, his stomach has to stop churning. 

—

It doesn’t. 

Your energy doesn’t falter, to his surprise. Not only are you sunshine personified, but you’re also damn good at your job. Eddie can only imagine how sluggish he’d be if he had a month off from anything, especially a job, but it doesn’t even seem as though you have to dust any of your skills off for the day. 

You offer to take over opening up the ‘drive thru’ aspect of the store, brewing all the coffees and teas without complaint as Eddie lingers in his misery of shuffling through the tasks of opening up the food portion of the store. As he’s sorting the croissants to be replenished, implementing the technique of FIFO (first in, first out), he can hear Nicole still cackling at whatever you’re saying in the back of the house as you clean the syrup pumps. When he’s labeling all the new breakfast sandwiches for the day with their best-by dates, he can hear you humming a few feet away from him over the clicking of the sticker gun in his hand. And when the clock finally reads 5:30 to signify the time of opening, you’re putting on your apron, tying it around yourself more securely than Eddie always lazily did. Even your black apron seemed to fit on you better than his did, as if you were more made for this job than he was. As if you had years of experience to carry on your shoulders, and God, were you carrying them with grace. Constantly smiling, constantly joking. He’d once thought Nicole incapable of even breaking a grin, but he’d hardly gone longer than a minute without hearing her laugh during the time of your opening together. 

God, he sort of hated you. 

You never even mentioned how rudely he’d shrugged off your introduction. Occasionally, he’d even caught you looking his way during the conversation, a soft expression on your face as if you were ready to include him in all the inside jokes at a moment’s notice. 

He made sure to consistently stare straight ahead, never once seeming to glance your way when you wore that expression. 

You were just too nice. You were putting all the other openers to shame right before his eyes, himself included, and he hated you for it. 

Once the store is open, John is the first customer in drive, as always. Eddie wears the headset (the one you’d grabbed for him, sanitizing it and slotting a freshly charged battery in without him even asking. God, he hated you.) and listens in to you greeting the awful bastard, and his stomach does another flip. 

“Good morning, John,” you chirp happily. He couldn’t see your face from around the corner, but he could only imagine that you were wearing a smile. Maybe you even had that damn camera on so that the customers could see you just as you could see them. 

He waits. Anxious to hear John’s grumpy reply, be reassured when someone else also didn’t match your energy. The man had never been pleasant a single day that Eddie had worked thus far. Simply barking out his order, acting offended when someone didn’t recognize him. 

If anyone was going to be cruel to you, Eddie would bet all five dollars in his pocket that it would be John. 

But even John wasn’t fucking mean to you. 

He had replied in the most cheerful tone Eddie had ever heard leave the man’s throat.

“And who am I speaking to?” he almost sounds teasing. It fans at Eddie’s irrational irritability. 

“I’ll give you three guesses.” 

He hates the way your customer service voice was so similar to just your normal voice. A bit squeakier, a bit more polite, but still bottled sunshine. He hates how nicely it caressed his eardrum as compared to the grate of some of the other barista’s tones while on drive thru. He hates that some deep part of him secretly hoped that Nicole stationed you there your entire shift, and that if she did, he would fight tooth and nail to keep this damn headset on. Just to hear your voice. Just to hear your light.

“Only three?” John’s gruff voice scoffs, “There’s only one person who works here who is this damn cheery before eight in the morning.” 

Nicole laughs from where she’s bent over to put down a few of the sanitizer buckets by the bars, shaking her head as she also listens in over her headset. 

“I’m making it easy on you, then,” you say as you suddenly come into view for Eddie. He’s trying to replenish the sandwiches and protein boxes that the store keeps on display for the customer by the register, still working through his morning tasks as he realizes you’ve completed yours.

Man, he fucking hated you. 

You don’t miss a beat as you begin to tap one of the espresso machines awake, punching all the right buttons to pull John’s espresso shot before you turn to make your way towards the cold beverage station. “You still drinking the same thing, old man?” 

“I’m not old.”

“Right, and I’m not already over-caffeinated,” that’s a lie. He hasn’t seen you touch a drop of coffee this entire time, “Just pull on up. It’s a billion dollars, or whatever your total normally is.” 

John’s cackle is cut off by him pulling away from the speaker box, effectively disconnecting the two way mic. Even Eddie finds himself nearly grinning at your reply, but he stops himself. Because you’re annoying. Because no one should be this witty this early. Because the ability to make others laugh this often should be a cardinal sin. 

He stops the grin because he hates you… right?

You do manage to get a tip out of John. Eddie sees it with his own two eyes. It’s a quick deposit of whatever spare change the stingiest man Eddie had ever had the displeasure of meeting has lying around his car, and it happens so quickly while you’re leant out the window to pass the man his receipt that he always requests that Eddie almost convinces himself it didn’t happen. But it did. He saw it with his own two eyes, as he tripped over his two left feet, effectively nearly knocking Nicole over with him. 

The look she gives him makes his stomach twist this time as his heart lurches. It’s a knowing look. It’s despicable. 

She doesn’t say a word until later into the shift, once more baristas are scattered across the floor and peak is in full swing. Eddie isn’t kept on food, and you aren’t kept to manage taking orders or run the window – he’s the one reassigned to the window position as you are moved to the cafe bar. He’s tasked with quick connections before handing out drinks to bored business people, as you fly through making drinks for both mobile orders and any customers that choose to physically walk into the store. 

Nicole puts herself on the position of ‘DTO’ – she greets the drive thru customers over the headset and takes their orders, her tone not nearly as honey-sweet as yours had been. She’s lacking in jokes, she sticks to a script that must have taken her years to make sound even remotely natural. 

Eddie’s just grateful he doesn’t have to wear a headset and listen to her directly in his ear. 

Rush has died down when she turns to him and cocks a brow with her hip. He has the window shut, fiddling with his thumbs as he anxiously awaits for the partner on drive bar to finish making the iced white mocha for the customer currently sitting on their phone. He’s sure the look she shoots his way is in regards to the fact that he isn’t ‘connecting with the customer’ or putting himself through insufferable small talk. 

It isn’t.

“Do you not like her?” 

His head shoots up, fully meeting her curious gaze, “Excuse me?”

“Y/N,” she clarifies, “Do you… not like her?” 

“I don’t know her,” he weakly defends himself.

He had been a dick to you this morning, hadn’t he? What a weak defense for being a bad person to someone who makes this entire store glow simply by being here. 

“You should give her a chance,” Nicole speaks softly as she leans back on the counter that holds the order screens, “I… She can be a lot, but she’s one of our best. Think of her as the people’s princess, so to speak.” 

He knows you’re one of the best here, just in the short few hours he’s caught glimpses of you. He has no idea how you’re so quick with making drinks, or how you manage to hold such genuine sounding conversations with all of the customers who stand right at the hand off plane. He just gets irritable when they stare at him with prying eyes as he tries (and fails) to keep up his pace. 

“I… I can see it,” he nods, bringing a hand up to pinch his bottom lip, “I mean, John clearly loves her.” 

Nicole gives a pointed look, “He does. She doesn’t take his shit – him and his wife bring her gifts for every holiday. They know her damn birthday and bring her cards. It’s insufferable.” 

He cracks a shy smile at that, “They bring her birthday cards?”

“They bring her birthday cards,” she echoes back to him. Eddie finally receives the drink he was waiting on and turns, quick to hand it out with a soft mutterance of ‘have a good day’. Once he’s finished and the drive thru is officially empty, he faces her once more, “You don’t have to like her as much as everyone else. I know you’re still new and adjusting but… she’s one of the best for a reason.” 

“Because she can turn out drinks like it’s no one’s business?” Eddie questions, side stepping and lifting his chin in your direction as you finish yet another drink, as if to prove his point. 

“That,” Nicole shrugs her shoulders and pushes off the counter, “And because she actually gives a damn.” Eddie’s brows shoot up as he waits for her to continue, “She knows these customers, man. Learns about their lives, hears them out. Remembers the small things. She’s the same way with all of us, too. She once got turned down from being a shift lead because she’s too nice. Have you ever heard of someone being shot down from a job for that?” Nicole pauses, and Eddie can only shake his head, feeling the ends of his ponytail brush the back of his neck, “She has the management experience – she knows how to run this place. Sometimes, I see it. The way she steps up and takes responsibility. She chooses to be that kind even if it makes her seem like a nut job. She chooses to let people hear walk all over her, because she cares. She cares more about treating us as humans or whatever than she does an upgrade in pay.”

“Makes sense they wouldn’t make her a shift, then,” Eddie dares to say, which earns him a sharp look, “I mean, management positions aren’t for the weak of heart. You have to make tough decision-”

“Once, a man was harassing one of our baristas. This dude who was married. Came in like clockwork and picked up a mobile order under his wife’s name, wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept flirting with one of our poor girls. I’ve never really been afraid of her, but I was every time that man stepped foot in here,” Nicole grabs a rag and starts to wipe down the counters with a low whistle, as if she isn’t spilling serious store lore right now to Eddie. As if she isn’t bringing on more questions than answers, “She’s not weak of heart. She’s good of heart. And if she hadn’t been on vacation, she would have been your trainer. You don’t have to like her, like I said, but it would do you well to give her a chance.” 

Trainer? 

Carmen had mentioned something about another barista being the usual trainer. She had even tried to joke around with Eddie that he would have liked the other girl better, something about how she was funnier and easier to get along with. 

You. You were the girl she’d been talking about. The people’s princess, as Nicole had put it. 

Eddie opens his mouth to say something in reply, although he isn’t quite sure what he can say. 

God, he had been a fucking dick. And Nicole was matching sure he felt all seven levels of Hell, of guilt, for it. 

It ate him alive for the rest of his shift. His stomach churned with it. All that guilt gnawed on him from the inside out, using his bones for toothpicks, and he already knew what he needed to do without Nicole saying it.

—

“Did that hurt?”

The two of you got off your shifts at the same time, as most openers do. At ten o’clock precisely, Nicole was shooing the two of you off the floor, two fresh baristas taking both your places as you scurried to the back. 

He’d overheard the joke made ten minutes prior, Nicole speaking to a fellow shift lead about who would be replacing you, already mourning your absence. She didn’t make such a joke about Eddie.

“Huh?” you look up quickly from where you had been carefully rolling and folding your apron into a bundle. 

Eddie gestures vaguely to his nose again, repeating himself, “Did it hurt?” 

It was the best he could do – pathetic small talk about the nose piercings of yours that had caught his eye. 

You grin radiantly, and he tries to swallow down that instinctive voice that whisper hate, hate, hate. “Which one?”

Right. You had multiple nose piercings. A hoop that matches Eddie’s own, only on the left nostril rather than the right like his, and that septum piercing. He’d probably look dumb to ask about the nostril considering he had his done, and should already know that it definitely doesn’t feel nice. 

“The septum,” he clarifies, “That combination, though, um… It looks sick.” 

Oh, he sounds so fucking stupid right now. He wishes the sticky floors beneath the two of you would split and swallow him whole. 

“Eh,” you shrug, finally glancing away from him to finish wrapping the strings of your apron snugly around the bundle you’d made of it, “My nostril honestly hurt worse. If you’re thinking of getting one,” you pause, and look up, offering him a look of pure mischief. Heart, stomach, mind. They all lurch with that look as you whisper, as if letting him in on a secret, “Do it.”

“I don’t think I could pull it off,” he’s quick to blurt out, eyes widening, resisting the urge to take several steps back and put distance between you two. 

Fuck, he didn’t hate you. It hits him like a truck – this shift had managed to slip through his fingers so quickly. The fastest one to date. Between all of your jokes, all of the laughter you managed to pull out of others and that he had to fight down, the day had flown past as easily as a shift really could. 

He regrets spending the shift moping. He regrets ignoring your introduction. He regrets not giving you a chance. 

“I think you could,” your tote bag now hangs from your shoulder, and you have your keys prepared in one hand as you hold your water bottle in the other, “Everyone says that, but if you can already pull off the nostril, adding a little septum to the mix never hurt nobody.” 

Is your face stuck like that? Stuck with a subtle and shy smile pulling at the lips, making the corners of your eyes crinkle in the slightest? 

He hopes not. If it is, he’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with you. He’ll always be too distracted, too infuriated, too overwhelmed. 

“You’re a very optimistic person,” he almost lets it slip out as a scoff, but refrains, Nicole’s words echoing in his mind. It would do you well to give her a chance.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” you casually say to him. 

“Did you just quote Star Wars to me?” 

Eddie is aghast, staring at you with even more awe than before. And you – oh, you look so goddamn proud of yourself and the way you’ve left him shellshocked, smugly lifting your chin and smiling more intentionally. You’re smiling so widely that your eyes pinch nearly fully shut and even more of that sunshine is now flooding the backroom up to Eddie’s knees.

“I don’t know,” you start to step around Eddie, carrying an air of arrogance that would only be so endearing from someone who had been proven to be as kind as you were, “Did I?”

You never give him the chance to answer. You leave him there, standing in the middle of the back of house and not even clocked out yet as you walk away with a bounce in your step and a quick have a good day, Eddie! over your shoulder.

When he’s finally off the clock and having given a half-ass goodbye to everyone on the floor (which no one replied to as enthusiastically as they had yours, by the way), you’re still sitting in your damn yellow Jeep. You give him a slight wave through the windshield as he makes a beeline for his van, and he doesn’t even bother to return it. Pretends he doesn’t see it. Looks straight ahead. If Nicole is watching from the drive thru window that serves as a front row seat to the entire interaction, she’s going to rip him a new one next shift they work together. 

God, Eddie wishes he hated you. 

Instead, he’s left hoping that next time he opens, you’re there to make the time fly. Maybe he’ll be the one quoting Star Wars to you. If he can ever get the stick out of his ass, that is.

taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles

(tag list is open - if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

[starry-bi-sky]

Part uh, four? of "Clone Danny"

...taking a risk and @ing @minnesota-fats since they seemed pretty hyped about this au. So i figured they'd want to know when the next part came out.

So where did we leave off? Oh yes... Danny taking the stairs two at a time to book it away from Bruce Wayne before he realized that he and Danny shared the same face.

So safe to say after Danny calls Tucker and they both panic over Bruce's appearance, and he finds himself slinging on his black hoodie and stuffing his pockets with his mask and his jawbreaker gloves before scaling down his second-story window to book it over to Tucker's place.

(you never know when there might be a ghost attack)

It's of no surprise to him when Sam is already there when he arrives at Tucker's, and they all migrate to Tucker's room to come up with a plan of attack. Was Danny gonna tell Bruce Wayne that he was a clone? hell no! He decided to let the man live in ignorant bliss and he is sticking to that decision no matter what anyone says.

Besides, his parents can open that pandora's box, considering they created it.

So their plan of attack? Literally just "avoid Bruce Wayne like the plague until he leaves" which is... a bit difficult right now.

"you could stay at our place until he leaves?" Tucker says

"And what if he stays for a month?" Danny asks, overthinking as he's become prone to do. Ghosts are unpredictable after all. "I cant have a month-long sleepover at your place."

"You could wear a mask?" Sam suggests

and Danny makes a face, "What kid wears a face mask in their own house?"

"You could feign an illness."

...And so on and so forth. They discuss ideas for nearly an hour until Sam leaves and Danny needs to head out as well before his parents discover that he's gone. (he cant exactly tell them he snuck out his window)

(He crawls back through his window only to get the daylights scared out of him by Jazz, sitting on his bed and wanting to talk to him about Bruce Wayne being, apparently, in their living room. Danny kicks her out instead because he already talked about it with Sam and Tucker and doesn't want to talk about it again for tonight)

Skip to later that night when he gets woken up by his ghost sense triggering. He wakes up with a chill and mist breathing out of his mouth, tasting like what freshly fallen snow smells like and ozone. It makes his teeth chatter.

Danny doesn't bother checking the time, and grabs his mask from under his pillow and his knucklebuster gloves. he all but sleeps in his hoodie and padding so all he does left is his boots and vest and thermos.

(He grabs his bat on the way out, and keeps his mask in his pocket until he steps outside)

when he sneaks into the kitchen, halfway through pulling his hair into a ponytail, light draws his eyes and there, up at who-knows-o'clock, is Bruce Wayne on his laptop. In their living room. He looks up at the same time as Danny.

Danny makes direct eye contact with him. Again. But there's no door to slam in his face....and behind Bruce Wayne, standing ominously at the window outside, is fucking Skulker. of course it is.

"...Mister Wayne." He says after a considerable silence where he's not sure if he's staring at Skulker or at Bruce. Skulker just stands. Menacingly. Like he crawled straight out of a horror movie.

Danny's not sure if Wayne's seen him or not.

(Bruce has, indeed, seen him in the reflection of his laptop. And considered investigating the problem just before Danny appeared.)

"...Mister Fenton." Wayne says moments after, sounding pretty calm and uncurious about what he's doing up. "What are you doing up?"

…Nevermind.

"Go…ing on a midnight stroll?" Danny says, he's a terrible liar but people never seem to assume he's off kicking ghost butt.

"With a bat?"

(Note: this is the only time Danny curses the fact that the Fenton Creepstick is painted with glow-in-the-dark-ectoplasm-infused paint. It's saved his butt numerous times in both finding it and smashing it into ghosts' faces. But now its just a hindrance.)

"...We have a ghost problem." Danny says, feeling like he came straight out of a sitcom. "What are you doing up?" Skulker looks like he's getting impatient behind the anti-ghost glass. Danny promptly ignores him.

"Just doing some Wayne Industries work." Bruce says.

And Danny nods thoughtfully. "Cool. Cool... Bye." And he turns and books it out the door.

He just barely has enough time to make it to the street and put on his mask before Skulker damn near takes his head off with his usual proclamation of skinning him. Danny, pointedly, sarcastically signs back his retort until he can get further away from the house.

\\\\\

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8