#monster under the bed!hobie

[eyesxxyou]

❝ monster under the bed ❞ (hobie x black ftm trans!reader

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. monsterfucking. kinda dub-con. usage of shadow tentacles. reader is ftm trans. hobie calls you a good boy. mating press. mentions of somnophilia. hobie's a little bit of a creep. reader calls hobie "freak", "creature", and "it".

You’ve been staring at your closet for an hour now, terrified out of your feeble, little mind with a knife in your trembling hand. Tears glazed over your eyes, your bottom lip quivering with untold fear. You’re too scared to get off your bed, scared that he might be under there as well, might grab your ankle and drag you under. What things it would do to you.

You never before believed in monsters, not since you were a child and used to have your parents check every night before you went to bed to assure you that there was no monster waiting to come from under your end and eat you whole. Oh if only they could see you now. A paranoid mess on the verge of tears in your own home. You still closed your closet door at night and jumped into bed simply out of habit, not because you were scared, not until recently.

It started with the slight caresses of your limbs whenever they lie outside the confines of your bed, like cool fingers touching and grasping your ankles and wrists until you ripped away, yanked your limbs back onto your bed with a startled gasp. Tender touches against your thighs and hips as you change beside your closet door left slightly ajar. The door opened on its own in the middle of the night, you witnessed it with your own eyes. The knob twisted as if someone on the inside had grabbed and turned it but when you checked, there was nothing.

There was the pair of glowing eyes you swore you saw when you looked under your bed for something you had dropped beneath it. It receded into the darkness quickly, so swiftly you thought you might have been imagining things. But it terrified you nonetheless. 

Then there was the figure standing at the foot of your bed. It was dark. An amalgamation of shadows that held nothing but the obvious outline of a very tall man standing there, watching with those glowing gold eyes you had seen before. You had screamed, turned on the light, and he was gone. You thought you were losing it. Were you losing it? What was happening to you?

You always kept a knife close. You were a trans man living alone, it was for your protection. Who knows what sick bastard would follow you home and try to break in. You had grabbed it with a swiftness you never knew you were capable of and went about your house, searching, clearing every room until you were sure no one was in your home. You slept with the lights on that night.

But he was back, the figure. You saw it, saw its hand reach out from your closet, and another one reach out from under your bed. You grabbed your knife again, both hands wrapped around the hilt to stop your hand from shaking. “Whoever you are, come out! I’m not scared of you!” But your voice trembled and revealed your fear. “I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

There was silence, silence so still you could hear your erratic breathing. Your gaze flickered between the foot of your bed and the closet, eyes well enough adjusted to the dark to see if anything came from either. 

It was the foot of your bed where it came from. A shadowy hand reached out, seemingly coming from under your bed, and grabbed your sheets for leverage as it dragged itself up slowly. The thing, the creature, was nothing but a blob of darkness at first but slowly gained more form and shape as it rose to its staggering height. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips that let shivering breaths escape you.

It chuckled, it laughed at you. Slowly you began to see a smile take shape in there as its face formed from nothing but black smoke. If you weren’t terrified out of your mind, you would have thought him the most gorgeous person – thing – you’ve ever seen. With wild black hair, dark skin, even darker lips, piercings that glint under the fading moonlight.

Something about the inhuman human made you all the more scared for your life. You scrambled back, to the very top of your bed as he began to walk around the side toward you, your knife pointed at him the entire way. “S-stay back!” You sputtered out, breathless and terrified. It did not deter him.

“Ya know how long ‘ve wai’ed f’this moment, lil birdy?” The baritone of his voice felt familiar, everything about him felt so familiar, as if you’ve known him this entire time. He’s been here for years, watching, listening, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to you. All the touches, then breezes, the caresses of your frame. All of it was him, just wanting to make himself known.

You saw a shadow slither around the blade of your knife and yank it from your hands, tossing it to the floor with a metallic clatter. Your only defense against this intruder gone in the blink of an eye.“‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha, dove.” He reached out for you. cool fingers stroking the round of your cheek. You shiver, looking up at him as you made a motion to pull away. “No,” he mutters, “jus’ relax.”

“What– what the hell are you? Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

There was a lit in the man-like creature’s voice as he smirked and spoke. “Jus’ call me Hobie.” He avoided the other questions as if you hadn’t even asked them. His fingers grasped your chin when you looked away from him and towards your door, forced your eyes upon him once more. Hobie tsked at you, clicking his tongue as he shook his head with a slow sort of disappointment. “Don’ even think ‘bout i’, dove. Why ya tryna run from me? Ya know me.”

You know him? You don’t know him. Your brows pinch with confusion as you shake your head. “I don’t-”

“Ya do, birdy. Ya know me.” He sits on the edge of your bed beside you, his fingers still grasping you. ”Ya think all those nasty lil dreams you’ve been havin’ since ya moved here were jus’ ya imagination?” Hobie’s thumb comes to rest against your bottom lip, swiping from left to right, right to left, his hazelnut eyes glowing softly as he looks at your lips. “Ya body knows me a’ least.”

You don’t know why you’re not ripping away from him, why your fear has settled. 

“Open.” His voice is gentle yet demanding and without thought, your lips part as if it were waiting for a command all this time. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as he eased his thumb onto your warm tongue, pressing down just a bit to keep you from talking. “See, ya know me, dovey. Don’ pretend like ya don’. Yer always such a good boy f’me.”

It was like he was sedating you, forcibly calming you when you knew you should be biting his thumb off. Was this freak touching you at night while you slept? Did he watch you when you touched yourself after wet dreams that left you wet and sticky. Wet dreams he had caused? Your body shivered with the thought and you weren’t sure if it was from disgust or something far more horrifying. A shiver of pleasure.

You felt something cool slither up along the inner part of your thigh. As you glanced down, you saw a shadow slipping beneath the pair of boxers you wear to bed. It slid across the axis of where your pelvis met your thighs and caressed your warm, soft lips. It slid between your pussy lips, breaking off into two separate appendages. One for your clit and one for your pretty, little hole that’s been left neglected by you for quite some time now.

Hobie pulled his thumb from your mouth and leaned in to push his lips onto yours. They were cold against your warm ones, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You didn’t know what to do except accept. Your mind told you to stop, that this wasn’t right. You have no idea what this thing was but your body, aching, didn’t seem to care.

Hesitantly, you parted your lips for him. Hobie hummed with satisfaction, a smile easing onto his lips. “There ya go. There’s ma favorite boy.” His tongue overtook yours, stroking with a precision you weren’t sure you ever felt from another lover. His kiss was wet, sloppy, filled with soft, breathless moans from your hot mouth as his appendages work away at your cunt.

You let out something of a low groan when one of the shadows pushed into your slick hole. It was thick and full and offered you no kindness as it thrusted into you inch by inch until you were filled to the brim with it. The coolness of it made you shiver violently against Hobie, who’s hands parted your legs to give his shadows enough space to do as he pleased them to.

“Ya remember this?” He crooned at you, his fingers gripping your thighs, his claws digging into flesh yet not enough to puncture, just enough to cause the slightest bit of pain to mingle with the fact that his shadows were playing with your engorged clit, sliding beneath the hood to get to the sweet spot. “I did this to ya las’ week. Ya woke up before I couldn't finish ya off.”

The other stuffed you full, stroked every one of your ridges and sweet spots until you were gasping for air. “Ngh~ please! Oh my God!” It pushed in and out of you, so hard you felt your entire body rock and shudder. “S-slow down mmh~” you could feel the thing circle your cervix, kissing it so softly with the languid tip.

“I know ya can take i’, lil bird.” He shifted his grip on your legs and moved his hands beneath your thighs to press them against your chest. Your boxers were pulled out of the way with another shadow to expose your puffy cunt plugged up with a dark appendage, the other lavishing over your firm clit. “Jus’ take i’.” 

His lips are on yours again, firm and cool, tongue claiming your mouth until drool began to seep from the corners where your lips were sealed. Hobie smiled into your kiss, your body writing beneath his hold. Your eyes are half-closed and fucked out, your body thrashing with something far more otherworldly than just pleasure.

You couldn't understand why you were letting this happen. What the hell was he doing to you? Or was this truly just your body falling into what it already knows. Him. It. This thing and his shadows. He kissed you more passionately than any man has and was fucking you better than you could imagine.

The sound of it was filthy. The soft squelch of his shadow forcing its way in and out of you permeated the room and mingled with your muffled moans against his impassioned kiss. He’s been waiting for this for so long and he’ll be damned if he didn't revel in the satisfaction of having you all bent out of shape for him. He could feel you through his shadow, your tightness, your desperation, the pull of your soft, wanton cunt.

“Do ya know what torture feels like?” Hobie asks and you’re tempted to say yes with the way his shadow lapped at your swollen clit and filled your cunt to the brim, stretching and molding to your every dip, curve, and ridge until no spot was left untouched. It filled you perfectly, so perfect you could weep with pleasure.

��Torture is havin’ to watch ma lil dove touch himself and I can' do a damn thing about i’ ‘cause I don' wanna scare ‘im.” You let out another broken moan while the shadows seem to work in unison, his large hands pressing your thighs harder to your chest, opening you up a little more to make more room for him to stuff your cunt a little more.

You’re open and exposed, shamelessly so. The darkness allows for all the things you would have shunned in the light. Something was dripping from your pussy, down the round of your ass, maybe your wetness oozing, being pushed out by his shadow.

Hobie chuckled softly while watching your eyes roll and your saliva-wet lips fall open. “I don't scare ya, lil dovey, do I?”

You wanted to say yes, that he terrified the hell out of you but as you opened your mouth, all you could do was let out something of a whiny, needy, little moan. “Please.” That’s all you could muster, the shudder of an orgasm beginning to make itself known in the pit of your belly.

You couldn't handle it. It was simply so intense, so demanding of you all your energy. “I can't-”

“Ya can,” Hobie insisted. “Lemme taste ya cum. I need i’. Lemme take wha’ I need, then I’ll go f’the nigh’.” He glanced out the window to find the sky growing lighter; the dark was being pushed away by dawn. It wouldn't be long until the sun crested over the horizon and he’d have to go back into hiding beneath your bed where he'd wait patiently for you to climb back into your bed, maybe touch yourself a bit, get yourself ready for his assault on your body the next night.

Your body rolled, thrashed, quivered with the beginnings of your climax. The walls of your pussy clamped and pulsed and Hobie let out a heavy breath. He could feel you, his shadow coaxing out your pretty moans as it stroked your gummy walls and kissed at your cervix oh so gently. 

Your mind felt fuzzy. Your vision went in and out of focus. Your hands gripped at your sheets before relaxing all together. You shuddered with the aftershock, breath labored and hitching with every exhale. 

Hobie released you and your legs fell onto your bed as his shadows receded back into the darkness as if they had never been there in the first place but the slick, sticky cum against your thighs and underwear left proof of their presence.

“I wish I could stay a lil longa, birdy, get one more outta ya, but I gotta go.” He pressed his lips to yours, a kiss not reciprocated. You were too tired, too fucked out. You couldn’t imagine having to undergo a second one, you couldn’t believe you had let him drag even a single one out of you. 

Hobie turned to whisper in your ear, his hand stroking your thigh tenderly. “I’ll see you tonight, dove.” He stood up, glancing at the window just as the sun was beginning to rise just over the treeline. He began to lose his form and became nothing more than a shadow creature once more, melting away into an amorphous blob before slithering back beneath your bed. 

You scrambled up, chest heaving as you leaped from your bed and dropped down to your hands and knees to look for him beneath your bed frame. There was nothing, just the other side of your room, you could see straight through. You swallowed nervously and lied on the cool hardwood of your floor.

Your mind was empty, wiped completely blank by your orgasm. There was a single thought on your mind, just one. What the fuck just happened?

There was a monster that lives under your bed it had fucked you so good you might never recover from it.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.73)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You are everything to Yoongi, the yoke in his egg, the daffodils on the sidewalk, the sunshine in the morning. Everything. He just had to remember it. 

Tags: Nightmares, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of food issues but they're only talked about in terms of the m/c getting better.

W/c: 10.0k

A/n: the irony of this chapter is that it's going to come out during the wedding of the two people who live in the house that inspired bily, the last time i was there there where sprouts growing in every windowsill and a fluffy throw on every couch so <3 everything will be alright wont it? the house is filled with love in this universe as well as the bily one <3

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Downstairs, you and Hobi are shrouded in a particular kind of fuzzy warmth. The kind that only comes from knowing you do not have to be in control anymore. That there is no hidden consequence waiting for you. no shoe to drop. no monster under your bed.

The downstairs is shrouded in that kind of quiet and comfort that comes with warm evenings and supple hands that have nothing to do but loving and set about diligently at that task. Like cold breezes in summer, icing and chocolate, and sunshine on raspberries warming their sugar.

But the upstairs nest room is not so peaceful.

Tae’s post-coitus talks are legendary at this point, as Yoongi sits on the edge of the nest, not looking at her because to look at Tae is to encourage more truth to fall from her lips. He busies himself with tucking jungkook in. Sprawled asleep. And tries not to listen to the truth that Yoongi neither wants nor believes he needs.

Right now his brain is fuzzy and prone to believing her.

There are small things all around the nest, pieces of the pack and remnants and evidence of the time the three of them spent here hours ago taking Jungkook apart and putting him back together again. Fucking then sleeping then waking up to fuck again. The arousal burns low at present, sated for now.

A discarded shirt of Jungkook’s sits tangled in a pair of handcuffs because he’d gotten too squirmy for Tae's liking, a silk scarf of Tae’s because he’d gotten mouthy too. A notepad and a bit of paper. Lines scrawled out because Tae’s post-knot clarity always gives her a few good poems, a few good lines.

Yoongi doesn't have to read them to know they're about you. Almost everything Tae writes has You and Jimin in it. The others are there too every now and then- but if Tae had to say it Yoongi knows you and Jimin are her muses.

It takes Tae a few months to digest her feelings into something palatable. Yoongi didn’t need to ask what time period it was written about as he read over her shoulder, pressing kisses to her lips between the lines. Trying not to be a distraction but wanting to be a distraction worthy of Tae’s attention.

This poem that he'd watched her scrawl out, pen to her lips between stanzas. It has the first few months of your relationship all over it.

I know I over-feed the cat, but I can’t help it. If you could eat the love I have for you what would it taste like? Would it be mangoes- Sticky, yellow, sweet. Eat Till the threads of it get stuck Between your teeth. Would it leave you full and sleepy- like bread and pasta? Rigatoni, Penne, pastina stars The candy toothache of my heart Swells thick and gummy. Eat up. I must admit I grow addicted to the brown sugar of your being. Would my love stain the edge of your smile? Like strawberries? Blueberries? Black? I must admit I am afraid of food metaphors When it comes to you. Because just like with food, I fear if I don’t give you enough You’ll go starving, Out of some sense Of beauty and responsibility. Could you love me enough, Would you love me enough if I’m good? Salt, fat, acid, heat. What is owed at our table- A full meal or half? Desert or just a snack? Just tea please, I’m not hungry. I already ate. I know I overfeed the cat, but I can’t help it- I can’t help it at all. If you would eat the love I have for you, Would you still want to be so skinny? Love is warm bellies and not hollow throats. Love cares not for second portions, Only 8 courses Love is a bowl of soup It warms from the inside out. I know I overfeed the cat.

Noodle purrs nearby, the subject of the conversation earlier today that no doubt inspired Tae. Heaped between a pillow and a rolled-up blanket looking overstuffed- like one of your stuffed animals that litter the nest up here and the one downstairs. Jin had gotten a little overzealous on the jellycat website during christmas time.

He's gotten rather chubby, his middle more round than just fluffy. His pudgy tomcat face is charming, eyes blinking slowly as he watches Yoongi toil with his emotions.

"We should put him on a diet" You'd lamented, still feeding him treats, in the kitchen this afternoon. Yellow light slipped through the windows and lunch plates piled high in the sink. A carton of coffee-caramel ice cream and mango sorbet gathering condensation nearby. On your knees before his bowl. Because if you all got after-lunch ice cream treats then he should get some too.

"Don't you dare, he's perfect this way." Tae had replied, scandalized, and made the point of giving Noodle an extra scoop of food and you an extra spoonful of sweet frozen milk.

Yoongi knows that your comment had stayed on Tae's mind just like he knows that it's not just Noodle you were talking about. How many times has he seen you pull down the edge of your shirt over the past few weeks? Or reach for Hobi's baggier sweatshirts? Or sho them all out the door when you shower intent on doing it alone.

The pack loves group showers, there will probably be one on the way tonight from the sound of it. Yoongi doesn't doubt that the pack will leave you messy and sated. A little too sleepy too. Someone will have to help.

His fingers drum quietly on the bed. Nervous. Waiting. A little annoyed- but Yoongi's not sure where it comes from.

A loud slap from downstairs punctuates the quiet. Yoongi just barely flinches. And Yoongi wonders if you'd let them see you naked tonight or if you'd been too nervous for it. Or if Seokjin and Namjoon will make everything, your anxieties and your fears and your feelings of inadequacy, feel small.

They'll make you feel small too. Omegaspace is all but a guarantee tonight.

But he's not allowed downstairs to double-check that you're alright. (He is, he's just not sure you even want him downstairs- which is another thing entirely. Would his presence make you more nervous? More likely to go into appeasement mode because you think that's what he wants?)

Tae has a habit of reminding him when he's being a shithead.

Now Yoongi wishes for Tae’s attention to be elsewhere. On a poem. On Jungkook. On anything. Yoongi has gotten very good at lying to himself over the past few weeks. But somewhere across the lines I’m still angry at her, turned into I should still be angry. He’s not quite sure when that changed. But he knows he's holding onto his anger, that it's growing slippery, but that he's not ready for it to go away.

Yoongi will do anything to keep you, to make you stay. And that’s part of the problem. He's scared of his own capacity for forgiveness. What you might take if he gives you another chance. He's scared that you'll go and take all of him with you.

He's scared- sure, but he's not really angry anymore.

He's just tired- tired of feeling so much, tired of feeling things so intensely. Tired of worrying, of keeping you at arm’s length and wondering if I let you back in now have you learned not to do this again? Or will you just say you’ll change?

Yoongi will always love you- will always be your mate. But he doesn’t want to be sitting and waiting all the time wondering if you’re thinking about leaving again.

You’ve already tried to do that twice; the third time would be the charm.

Jungkook slumbers belly down in the nest, his soft huffs of breath coming frequently and at a steady pace. He’s quite a vision with his rippling back muscles and splayed thighs. With Hickeys on his skin from Yoongi's own mouth where the skin goes soft and dark. Knees apart to limit the soreness he must be feeling from the knot. Covered at the waist but only just so with a thin sheet. The tops of his thighs shiny with cooling slick. Yoongi’s eyes hover on Jungkook as he looks back.

Tae's voice keeps it hush, mindful of Jungkook's sleep schedule but not of the fragileness of Yoongi's heart.

"If you worry you suffer twice. Her leaving and you not forgiving her- isn't the result the same?"

Jungkook's sleeping form will offer him no savior from Tae’s words, he’d say the same thing- they all would. "Do you really want the distance she's been trying to give you Yoongi? Because I really don't think you do"

You've been fucking miserable these last few weeks. Is what she doesn't say but wants too. Yoongi knows it. Can taste the unfinished business on the air in the form of Tae's wilting rose and cinnamon scent. The heady horny edge to it wareing away.

It’s quiet downstairs but it hadn’t always been; between your pleas and Hobi’s growls and then your cries that had made Yoongi gnash his teeth. Sobbing echos that made Yoongi flinch. Distant cries of “m’ sorry m-" and Jin’s joining croon of “good pup, come to daddy, I’ve got you my sweet little thing, I’ve got you.”

But it’s quieting down now. Yoongi can only just hear a little bit of the hushed voices when he strains his ears. He can’t hear you at all when Tae’s talking.

Jungkook stays asleep, completely lost to the world, He needed two cocks to settle, Jungkook always sleeps for a long time after scenes, even simple cute ones like this. You’re the same. Yoongi knows you’re the same. That you usually doze after cumming, so sleepy- like your body gives up under the force of too much pleasure. And that even awake you’re pliant and drowsy. (He loves it when you get that way).

You’ll never have to worry about insomnia the way that Tae and Yoongi do. If it ever gets too bad, the pack will only ever fuck you to bed.

Which is why Yoongi’s restless, why he can’t sleep. Because you’re downstairs and not upstairs with him. He can pretend that's not why he's awake, but the truth remains. Eviscerated by Tae's pouting lips.

He heard you crying earlier. Coupled with Hobi’s yelps and Namjoon’s low croon. It was hard- harder than Yoongi expected, to resist the urge to go down to you. Grating, the mental equivalent of nails on a chalkboard to tune out the sounds of his mate in distress.

It's not distress, he knows that- logically Yoongi knows that the pack would never do anything you didn't consent to.

And still…

"That's not it Tae, that's not it at all." Yoongi denies, but the lie is blatant even to his own lips.

Yoongi is harder to settle than Jungkook. Tae knows this. Folded against the nest, her silky lavender dress pulled back on after fucking Jungkook, small breasts pillowing, hickeys dotting the top of them both faded and not. Some of them are from Jungkook- fresh and pink- but a few might be from you a few days prior.

She snorts, "isn't it? You're both just doing what you think will give you the least amount of pain- instead of actually confronting each other about this. Do you know what I think hyung?”

Just about every packmate has a newfound obsession with Tae’s chest. The tender swelling sensitivity just there. Tae hasn’t gone up a cup size in a few months, she’s a B at best- but the pack still praises her for it. Still takes every opportunity to make her blush and show her their appreciation.

But still- sometimes Yoongi catches her in the mornings, putting on her lingerie that she wears under her clothes almost every days-tugging at the gaping in the front. She bought stuff a cup size up at the beginning- so did Namjoon and Jin and Jimin, endless pretty sets from for love and lemons and Victoria’s Secret that sit unworn.

Because they don’t fit- might not ever fit. Unless Tae does something drastic like surgery. Yoongi's surprised she hasn't asked for it yet.

Yoongi sighs, frustrated, “What Tae, what do you want to say?”

Tae flips over on her tummy, hair a little messy, grinning looking a bit like Noodle as she strokes gently down Yoongi’s jaw. He’s not wearing a shirt he just tugged on pajama pants so the scratch of her long nails down his skin makes goosebumps erupt all over his bare arms.

“I think punishing yourself isn’t a way to rewrite history. Punishing yourself isn’t going to make what happened go away. At this point- I think you’re keeping yourself away from her to prove a point- but the points already been proven.”

“That’s not it,” Yoongi says again. Like repeating it will make it true. Tae raises an eyebrow at him, swishing her legs, her white painted toenails flashing in the half-darkness.

“Don’t you want to make her see that it was a bad decision, isn’t that what you’re doing? Punishing her for going and punishing yourself for not being there when she made the choice to go?”

As if on cue Yoongi can hear it from the ground floor, the sound of your babbling giggles- you in omegaspace surely, a softly crooned “Good puppy, give him another treat, he’s earned it.” From Jin. Yoongi knows you’re cute and sweet and sensitive in your headspace downstairs, the idea of seeing you- touching you- without the burden of all this- is so tempting Yoongi’s hands hurt.

Yoongi’s hands tighten around Jungkook's elbow, his anchor, preventing him from going downstairs. When Yoongi turns back to look at Tae, her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s looking down at Jungkookie. He has a single hand tangled in the hem of her nightdress, fist closed, chubby and cute.

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi is always in the habit of asking that. It’s worth asking- so that you don’t have to wonder.

“You remind me of myself before I came out. Denying yourself love just because you want to be right- doesn’t make you right, it just makes you less loved.” Her eyes flick from Jungkook up to Yoongi.

Yoongi's hands are cold, the goosebumps on his arms are still there.

Yoongi is not human without your love. How many afternoons has Tae seen him staring off into space? How many more meals will Yoongi push around the food on his plate? How many mornings will his hair go unbrushed because Yoongi simply doesn't have the energy to brush it? Tae and the others make up for it a good deal, but at the end of the day, none of them are the person who Yoongi bonded his soul too.

Tae knows what sadness looks like, what depression looks like and she's learned a lot from you. She won't let this be more than a little blip in Yoongi's year.

Your love is one of the things that makes Yoongi feel human. Without you to love, and feeling like he shouldn't, Yoongi's a little unmoored, a little without purpose.

Tae detangles Jungkook’s fist from her dress gently, replacing his grip with a nearby item- another one of her dresses that the omega had so diligently woven into the outer rim of the nest. He curls around it protectively, purring gently. She covers him with a different thicker blanket to simulate her warmth. Then she sits up on her knees and starts to shuffle to the edge of the nest.

“Come on,”

“But Jungkook-”

“He’ll be fine for a second hyung.”

Tae hasn’t yet conditioned herself out of using that phrase, hyung. And Yoongi might remind her if it didn’t sound so sweet coming from her mouth. More of a pet name than anything else. Yoongi doesn’t mind. She can still call him hyung if she wants. They’ve had conversations about it before.

Tae stops, and turns back. The language thing- is one of her current fixations at the moment. “It’s not- just because that slips out doesn’t mean I’m not still a girl."

“I know baby. I’d never think that unless you told me- not that you’ve got to- not that-“

“No, I know. Thank you hyung.” Tae's teeth worry away at her lower lip.

“You can use Oppa too you know. If that feels nicer, or you can go back and forth and use both.”

“I know, I don’t know why I don’t like it as much, hyung makes me feel like you’ll always look after me.” Yoongi grabs Tae’s hands, tangled in the sheets, silken, pink.

“You know I always will.”

Tae uses that hand to her advantage. Pulling him up and out of the nest. Tae leads him down the dark stairs, her quiet giggles softening Yoongi’s anxiety, but when he gets down there, you're there.

You're small in Namjoon's lap, resting your cheek against the hollow of his throat. The pack alpha's shirt is completely unbuttoned now and you’ve hidden your face in his honey skin, rubbing your face all in it, cheeks pink and slowly purring. Guarding your eyes from the big light in the kitchen- where Jimin is getting Hobi a glass of water. Pants pulled on just barely, still hanging low. The scar on his shoulder pink and catching the light- just barely healing. Big on the back side and small on the front.

Yoongi just barely hears namjoons low and sweet growls, his sweet nothings. The way he cradles you gently but so fiercely to his chest Yoongi knows it's all instinct.

"I'm never gonna let anything happen to you- never again- I've got you pup, I've got you. "

The shirt you wear is big and dark, he knows already that it's his- probably pilfered from downstairs to comfort you. Yoongi's not really sure why that makes his throat close up. Even around all of them, even after all of that. It's still his scent you ask for. The one that cloaks you and covers you in the wake of this.

It hurts a little bit more than it should that Namjoon freezes when he sees Yoongi standing on the steps. Freezes, arms tightening just a little around you as you continue to nuzzle into the pack alpha's throat, Dozing and lost in the haze of aftercare.

His arms relax when Namjoon sees it's just the two of them, and tae floats over, dress swishing. "Oh alpha- did you make her all small and soft for me?"

Namjoons teeth look extra sharp as he beholds tae, as she strokes down his throat. To have another alpha touch him there should feel threatening, but Namjoon just feels satisfied. "Of course I did babygirl."

Hobi is more awake than you but so much further down in puppy space than Yoongi expected. The collar jingles faintly against his throat where he rolls his tongue lolling out. Belly up on the carpet and clearly enjoying Jin’s nails scrapping and petting and scratching over his tummy. Never too tired for more belly rubs, especially with a full stomach full of good pup treats (they're just dog bone-shaped chocolate chip cookies, a special all-organic kind that Jin buys from Etsy explicitly for this).

He’s shy- Hobi hasn’t had the time to indulge in puppy space in months, but now he tucks his face under Jin’s shirt and squirms. Happy to be on the receiving end of the pack Omega’s undivided attention. “Good puppy- what a good boy-“ Jin croons, eyes glassy and dark, biting his lip as he watches Hobi squirm and his tongue lol. Panting animatedly.

He’s needed this too- the sound of his praises fall so easy and natural from his pouted lips. And Hobi stills, ears pink when he looks to Yoongi and Tae in the doorway. Lucid for a breath. Tae’s arms are looped around Yoongi’s hips. Keeping him from slinking off, keeping him from feeling like he’s not wanted.

The pack alpha pears at them over the back of the couch. His arms slowly relax around you, nostrils flaring at the scents coming from both of them but mostly Yoongi. Namjoon looks, and glares, but he can smell it. How upset he really is, the undercurrent to his scent. Yoongi smells like chocolate and worry.

He tips his chin down, a clear command to come here.

“Yoongi wanted to make sure she was alright.” Tae supplies, Yoongi tries to deny it but Namjoon already knows. Namjoon’s grumble growl is warm and inviting as Tae guides Yoongi to sit. Your arms are loose around Namjoon’s neck. He’s quiet, but his eyes are shiny with alpha space, measuring every one of their movements like the pack alpha might measure threats. Guarding the pup in his arms very diligently.

“She’s tired, fell right off.” jimin says, coming over to stand above the four of you and watch as tae guides yoongi's hand out, to touch your back, to pet up and down gently. Jimin runs his hand over your wet cheek, picking a hair out from between your lips.

“Poor little pup” and Yoongi feels breathless but Namjoon and Tae make room for him to sit close. yoongi doesn't need to be guided to sit close to you, almost sideways in something like a hug. You sag just a little more into him, like you’re relaxed by Yoongi’s presence alone. Letting out soft huffs of breath against Namjoon's chest, tiny purrs start up anew, louder, deeper. Your spine curls at an uncomfortable angle like you can decide between Namjoon's chest and Yoongi's hands.

And then Tae takes both of your wrists, detangling them from Namjoon’s neck, the same moment that Namjoon starts to lift your hips.

Yoongi can’t even say anything, can’t even protest as they put you in his lap. You suction to his front like a starfish sinking deeper into dreamland and going more boneless by the breath. Yoongi starts to say something- nothing more than hollow protests.

But it feels so good to have you hear, settled over his lap. So good his breath hitches.

Your hands tangle in the front of his shirt, holding on tight- like you think he might go even in your sleep. Yoongi knows you feel that he’s here- although you might not remember it tomorrow. Maybe that's for the better.

he hesitates for a second, and then pulls you flush against him, hard.

Tae settles behind him and namjoon behind you. His big hands forcing the collar of his shirt to the side so the pack alpha can lean around you and nuzzle into the hollow of his throat. He barely has enough energy in him to open his mouth.

How lucky you and him are to have 6 people to watch over you like this. To make sure that you wake up safe, that you get everything you need before you drift off. Yoongi doesn’t have to do it on his own anymore. He hasn’t had to in months but that still doesn’t lose its novelty. Yoongi wonders if he’ll ever take it for granted.

Yoongi breathes deep and even.

“Thanks, Tae.”

“Of course, honey. Remember for next time- alpha knows best.” Yoongi’s cheek rests against the top of your head, and your breath tickles his neck.

“I know we’ve got to go upstairs, but can we stay like this for a second?”   “Of course, honey.” Her fingers stroke through his hair, and Yoongi closes his eyes and tucks his face into the top of your head. One cuddle can't hurt. He can go back to being angry with you in the morning.

“You’ll stay like that until Alpha says you can get up.”

Tae’s giggle is sweet, Yoongi’s eyes are already closed, “Joonie-“

He can hear Namjoon's bashfulness in his voice, the kind of shyness that warms yoongi up from the inside out and reminds him that they're all still learning. “Sorry, I’m still- it’s still-”

“I know alpha.”

I know I know I know.

~-~

(Yoongi, a few days later)

(In the end, forgiveness is not something that is inevitable)

Yoongi doesn’t know that it’s a dream while it’s happening.

One moment he is entirely unaware, resting, asleep, at peace. And the next the nightmare climbs up the edge of his vision. Clinging to the darkness- dissolving like mist only in reverse. Like smoke sucked through a straw. Like burning- carving from the outside in, hungry and without purpose. Burning burning burning.

One moment nothing and the next there is so much red.

The first thing Yoongi knows is that he can smell something burning, he looks up and he’s in the living room of your house, no furniture yet. The inside is so white but not perfect- he can vaguely place the memory.

This is the way the house looked just after they finished re-plastering; Yoongi files the memory and finds its from months and months ago- during another spring. The floors are all fucked from the mess that the plasterers had left. White splotches here and there. Everything covered in ghostly white sheets, a drop cloth under Yoongi's knees that slowly bleeds red.

It's about a month before the pack came home maybe. The last month it was ever you and Yoongi and not You and Yoongi and everyone else.

Yoongi watches as the Flames lick at the white walls. There is something in his hands but he can't look down yet. Something- his brain doesn't want to look at it- it's easier to look at the flames. The fire is yellow and slow to hunger. Creeping almost lazily, like it has nothing but time to burn. He can do little more than watch, not too scared, just confused, as all of the hours and minutes of his hard work are eaten up by heat.

The fire comes from everywhere and nowhere- leaking silently up the walls, turning the plaster slowly from gold to brown, then black before it crumbles away into ashes. Slowly chewing away at the walls, and the windows. The doorknob rattles and somewhere close by Noodle yowls and scratches at something.

The next thing Yoongi knows is that you’re very very still. You’re not moving at all. Not even a little bit- those pupish twitches of your fingers or the wiggle of your nose when you scent his displeasure. Nothing. None of it.

Yoongi is holding you, you are so small, so fragile in his arms. Lighter than you are in reality as he shakes you and tries to get you to wake up. You smile in your sleep a lot, but you aren’t smiling now. The mating mark is blackened against your throat, a thin trail of black and red that rims your lips, bleeding down the corner of your mouth. Inky dark one second, bright crimson the next as a bit of blood drips down the side of your face. 

There is so much blood. It's wet and it's cold despite the fire.

He calls your name, and you don't answer. Yoongi's own voice sounds muffled, Warbled. He keeps talking. Unsure what he's saying. He shouts and screams. But his voice never gets louder, you never wake up. He yells as loud as he can and you still don’t wake up.

It comes all at once, just like the fire.

There is blood on your throat too, so much it can't just be from your mouth. Bright and ruby, slipping down your collar bones and the hallow of your chest. Welling out from somewhere- somewhere that Yoongi can't see. Where are you hurt? Where is it coming from? Yoongi can't find the cause of the bleeding.

There is blood on your arms- trailing to the hallow of your elbow, between your legs, soaking through the white of his shirt, heavy and sticky and warm. Yoongi feels like he's suffocating. Yoongi searches for the source of the bleeding, fingers ruddy, soaking into his palms and his knuckles. Frantic as he tugs the hem of your shirt soaked through. The shorts at your hips- all red.

There is so much of it, so much of it that it pools around the two of you on the floor, slow and lazily, almost taunting Yoongi- just like the flames. Yoongi can do little more but watch you bleed out and hold you through it. Hold you as you die. Watch the red swallow you until there's nothing left of you. Just blood-soaked clothing. His breath hitches, suddenly painful in his lungs and his voice comes all at once. So loud it hurts him.  

“Namjoon- please- someone help me- someone-”

Yoongi wakes in the nest completely alone. Jerking up so fast that it makes him dizzy. He's too warm. Hot and balmy. Sweat soaks the front of his shirt.

He pushes himself up in the empty nest on shaking hands. Blinking, looking around at the folded blankets, the pillows at the rim of the nook, the absence of any other living soul here.

(that's not entirely true, Noodle is perched on a nearby pillow purring loudly. That's as much comfort as he can possibly offer as he's sworn to hate his arch-nemesis for eternity. Even though Yoongi sort of gives the best chin rubs- although Noodle would never confess it and will take the secret to his grave).

The high ceilings are dark and hollow, the whole room drenched in that half twilight of closed drapes. Empty even though Yoongi looks- searching for his packmates, searching for anything to make his chest feel not so tight.

Noodle purrs loudly and blinks slow.

The Christmas lights have been turned off- probably to help him sleep. The light streaming through the cracks in the curtains is dissonant. But the room is quiet and cluttered- Hobi’s monstera looks freshly misted in the corner, and humidity clings to the windows and skylight up high.

Yoongi pulls himself up and heaves out a shaky breath. Chest tight. You- he needs to find you. Find you and make sure- make sure you're not- Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. A dream, that's all it was. Just a dream. But part of him can't believe it. What if it wasn't?

It’s still hard to tell. The panic won’t leave his lungs. At the front of his nose is the scent of burning things- and that is very very real.

It looks like the omega’s piled the blankets around him, a smaller ring of fluffy blankets to keep the last slumbering packmate safe from outside eyes. But with so many blankets- Yoongi has overheated. He's sweaty and sticky and gross feeling. He should probably shower before he goes downstairs, probably, but-

He needs to make sure you're alright, right now- before he falls apart. Noodle mewls lightly and pulls himself over to Yoongi, pushing up against his trembling fingers, licking at them until Yoongi scratches his chin.

It takes him a second, staring down at his sweat-soaked shirt- to distinguish that it is not blood, blinking and mistaking the light behind his eyes for red.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything and doesn’t call out for anyone. Can’t do anything but detangle himself from the mess of blankets and Noodle and follow the smell of burning things down down down the stairs. Feeling like a ghost with a bad taste in his mouth. A vague pressure behind his eyes and a numbness in his arms and hands from lying on them for so long. His blood circulates slowly and sluggishly.

You are standing on a kitchen stool when he skitters to a stop on bare feet at the bottom of the stairs.

Yoongi has to blink a few times to make sure he's not dreaming, that the walls are the same light pink color they always were. Not brick red but not creamy plaster white- off color like the flush at your cheeks.

The sweater you wear is Hobi's- extra big especially at the wrists, pulling down all the way to your elbow as you reach up to stop the beeping from the smoke alarm with a wave of a newspaper. Nose wrinkled at the smell of smoke. You don't have the crusties at your eyes and your skin is glossy. Seokjin probably did your skincare routine for you as the pack omega is prone to do with so much extra time for fussing these days.

There is no one else in the house but you. The top layer of the air in the kitchen is cloudy with smoke. Yoongi watches you and scrubs a hand over his face. You do not turn and look at Yoongi in the doorway, although you know it’s him just because you can sense when your mate comes close, either scenting him on the air or through the dull pulse of the mating park.

Your sense of smell has been getting a little bit better recently. Yoongi knows better than to chalk it up to your weight gain but your health checkup earlier this week had been a lot more promising than the one before. Yoongi had gone to the appointment with you, and you’d perked up almost immediately when you realized he wasn’t going to give you the distant silent treatment again, all but skipping into the exam room.

He’d even let you hold his hand while they took your blood. He’s never had the heart to leave you scared. Never. Not even when he's angry at you.

Your hormones are leveling out, although there are no signs of you going into heat yet. Another 3 months of no change and you've promised Namjoon to at least talk about hormone therapies.

Tae had reassured you that it wasn't so bad with a kiss on your forehead and a hand at your hip. Covering the place where you, like Tae, might one day receive the weekly injections by Namjoon's hands.

It’s daunting. The idea of sitting through the same kind of treatment that Tae gets; the clink of the glass bottles on the counter, the pearly sound of glass hitting tile. The cold swipe of a swab and the press of a needle.

Namjoon’s always gentle.

You'd be inclined to just leave it alone- but your doctor had been very insistent, something about possible fertility issues if you want to have pups one day.  It’s hard to get pregnant outside of a heat, nearly impossible. This isn't an issue that can be just pushed under the rug if pups are something you want to have with the pack someday.

Namjoon and Tae had perked up a little when the idea of pups had been broached. But Yoongi had remained at the fringes of the room- silent. Yoongi thinks about your scent changing the same way Tae's did- how it went from cinnamon and pepper to cinnamon and roses.

He'd never tell her because Yoongi would never want to make Tae feel self-conscious about her own much-needed changes, but he doesn't like the idea of your scent changing the same way.

Deep down Yoongi wonders if you’d want to have pups if it wasn’t what the pack wanted. He’s not sure he’d be able to handle it, a little bundle of you and him and the whole big fucking world with all its wicked people. Yoongi knows peace now but still doesn't trust it. Wouldn't trust it especially if it was just him and you and a little life- so unprotected and vulnerable.

Yoongi doesn’t like feeling this way; vulnerable.

He breathes in a deep breath of your scent, warm and sweet and slightly smooth, not frazzled or scared sour (the way he first knew your scent to be, back before he even knew that you smelled like cake and not rain). You smell completely unaffected, unworried, and unharmed. You don't smell at all like you would have in Yoongi's dream. You don't smell like you're dying.

So why is his heart still beating out of his chest?

He crosses the kitchen in a few shakey strides, just as you start to speak. “Hobi made pancakes but Jin and him started making out and they like totally forgot about them! So they’re out getting breakfast sandwiches, I didn’t wanna wake you so I just got you-”

Your voice cuts off abruptly as Yoongi lines his face up with your spine and plants his nose there, breathing in your scent once, then again shaky. Nuzzling into your lower back. Arms around your waist, gripping your hips.

You make a little noise, questioning, looking down at him with a mixture of shock and concern. and you should be shocked and concerned- it's been nearly a month since your mate hugged you- let alone clutched you to his chest like this. It’s roughly the same sound that Noodle makes when you wake him up with pets.

He holds around your waist as you stand on the ladder, three feet up. His hands tangle with the fabric at your hips. he blinks looking down and away, at the floor.

“Yoongi!? What’s wrong?”

Dimly, he's aware that he’s supposed to be angry at you. He flushes, the blood hot and pink at his cheeks. You’re not supposed to be speaking really- at least not about things that matter and to be fair- Yoongi cannot speak right now. Burying his face in your back until the feeling of your blood on his hands is a distant memory. Feeling the warmth of your skin until the idea of you cold and still no longer bothers him.

Not a memory- a dream. Not a memory. He has to remind himself a second time. Remind himself enough that by the time he doesn't belive it the space to answer your question comes and goes.

Your eyebrows lower and you set a hand on his head, threading routinely into his hair- long, shaggy and dark. And he pushes further into your skin and into your touch the same way plants press into sunlight.

Yoongi is so tired of being angry, he's so tired of being scared. Your hand touches his cheek and his eyes flutter. Lips parting. Namjoon cuddled him just last night- but Yoongi will always be touch starved just for you.

Your breath hitches, "Oh Yoongi."

his arms tighten around you, like he's worried you're going to slip through his arms like smoke. "Bad dream?" You ask, it's a state that you are only too familiar with as he hums non-committal. you turn around halfway so that you can put your hands on his shoulders and touch him. Yoongi almost wants to keen at the contact, almost wants to tell you he likes it too much- which would be embarrassing. He nods against your back.

He missed this, missed this A lot. He missed you. Yoongi's eyes are itchy.

This is the first time he’s held you since you almost left, besides that moment in the car when you were both so angry and so broken it hardly mattered. Yoongi swallows, and he still can’t speak when he tries. Hiding his face in your spine, your hip when you turn, back hugging you because even on a ladder he is still mostly taller than you. Shaking faintly, still shaking off the fucking dream.

His voice is croaky, not all there when his voice box finally cooperates. “Can you get off?"

You get down from the stepstool instantly. His hands tangle in the side of your shirt to steady you. Unwilling to go more than a few inches from you. You're always so wobbly in the mornings before you've eaten and Yoongi is ever mindful.

The sweater you wear has a small doodled bunch of flowers on the front, a botanical print. Yoongi thinks he remembers if vaguely- from a trip Hobi and Namjoon took to the botanical garden a few years ago. It's got holes in the arms like Hobi has snagged it one too many times on rose bushes. Yoongi threads his fingers through them and holds on.

You stare up at him from the floor like you’re waiting for his instruction. Eyes wide and glassy and pretty and alive.

Yoongi stills, breath hitching- at the sight of a bit of red on your lips.

It's off to the side, on your bottom lip almost hidden by where your smile sits. Yoongi's face crumples a little at the sight of it.

Yoongi reaches up with shaking hands to touch it, wiping it away. You follow his hand. He looks down at the smudge on his finger. The little bit of red.

“Oh! That was from Tae she-" You break off when he pulls you back to him, crushing you to his chest. And you surely can’t know what’s going wrong or what Yoongi’s just dreamed but you let him man handle you regardless.

He's sort of glad that no one else is home, that it's just you and him here for a few moments. The quiet of the house is all encompassing- beyond the sound of wind sneaking under the windowsills and the pitter-patter of the drizzle outside. Noodle meows dolefully from the stairs, coming to see why Yoongi had abandoned him so abruptly (the nerve of him.)

Yoongi rests his full weight on you, crushing you to his chest. You push his hair back away from his face, and Yoongi keeps his eyes closed like that will keep the feeling here for longer. Like he's worried if he opens his eyes the nightmare will be here again.

Your hands, his face, small fingers that push at the wetness that he doesn’t name dripping under his eyes. His breath comes out in short little gasps.

There is rain outside, pattering against the window. It’s been raining a lot over the last few days. Soaking the soil in the pre-spring cold. It won't be long now and everything will be green again. Hobi will plant the window boxes, and you'll be able to put the ferns out. You and Tae will start wearing your matching dresses all the time and it will become Yoongi's job to cut the watermelon because he's the only one in the house trusted besides Jin with the big knives. He'll cut up orange slices and peaches and strawberries too. Everything for his loves and their hungry mouths and hungry hearts.

Soon but not yet. Spring and summer are just around the corner but they're not here yet and yoongi is painfully aware of that.

You don’t ask him why he’s crying; you don’t look him in the eyes when he opens them, just continue your careful petting through his hair, eyes flickering up, then down and away. The twist of your lips is guilty.

You are not bleeding; you are alive and Yoongi cannot stand it. The weight of memories he didn’t live weighs on him, still memories. He breathes out a shaky breath. And double-checks his fingers are absent of blood after he rubs over your throat. Checking.

You pull at him, hands on his shoulders. “Come on-“

You pull him through the quiet halls, and into the room at the very back of the house. Noodle follows too with a jingle of his purple bell collar.

The windows here are cracked to let in the chilly spring air- pushing out the last mustyness of winder and bringing with it the smell of rain. The nesting nook is dark and cozy-tempting; but full of stuffed animals and extra nesting pillows that you scoop out of the interior and put on the floor with such care. Lining them up against the outside of the nook. All to make room for him.

Yoongi holds onto the hem of your sweater, rubbing a fist against his eye. Like a clingy child. But he has to let you go when you turn. he can feel the pout on his face and you reach up to smooth it out. You only pause for a second, briefly, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Yoongi shakes his head, still wordless, unable to make his mouth cooperate. You don’t say anything, you don’t do anything but pull him into the warm dark quiet of the nesting nook.

Yoongi hasn’t spent so much time with you in here, but it’s surprisingly well-ventilated, the woven fabric sides of it dark but breathable. There’s not a lot of room but you make it work. Scooting back and pulling him down and down and down.

You pull him to rest against your chest, between your legs. Your hips splayed to let him curl up and nuzzle into you- in something like a full-body hug. Yoongi is too tired and too shaky to protest. He can’t even say he doesn’t want to but you check anyway- your movements slow as you get him situated.

Your heartbeat thuds quick against his fingertips. Yoongi wants to tell you that you don’t need to be scared, you don’t need to be afraid of overstepping. But can’t make his mouth cooperate.

His arms loosely circle around your waist, and then harder to crush you against him. At this position, you have full reign to run your fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, and down and up again. He knows he smells sweaty and probably rancid. But he nuzzles into your skin at the low neckline of the sweater. He puts his ear against your heart. Thud thud thud. Slowing down and evening out. You're right here and just under him, safe, and his eyelids are so heavy.

“Is this better? Do you need to go back to sleep?” Yoongi nods and doesn’t need to say another word.

Sleep rises up frightfully quick to meet him. He's not at all convinced that he hasn't dreamed it all. Finding you, coming here, and curling up. A dream within a dream. A good one in exchange for the nightmare earlier.

But this time he doesn’t dream at all, and even if he does, it’s only the sound of your heartbeat- thud thud thud. His own heartbeat thins out, and the tenseness in his shoulders relaxes.

Yoongi wakes up because a tomato has just fallen on his face.

You’re trying to be quiet, but Hoseok understandably laughs from where he’s holding out a half-unwrapped breakfast sandwich into the nesting nook for you to take a bite. Yoongi can vaguely place the words just whispered over his head. 'You guys eat without us, I don't want to wake him' 'Okay, but have a bite first- you know they're better when they're warm' 

Your laughter shakes against his cheek, your jaw clicks as you chew, and when he picks himself up, the tomato slides down his face, syrup slow. Until it flops against your throat. You and Hobi devolve into louder giggles and Yoongi can't stop the laugh that comes from his chest too.

The ruse is up, and you're all laughing. “Oh my god Hobi you promised to be quiet,”

Hoseok's one knee depresses the side of the nesting nook as he leans. Grinning down at Yoongi. Long fingers splayed around his ribs, making Yoongi shiver. The alpha pulls at his hips, and Yoongi feels a bit like a chew toy but in the best way, to be between the two of you laughing. “Come on Yoon- we’ve got you one too-“

Yoongi lets you both puppet him into the other room. Stumbling between the two of you. Until Hobi ducks low and nuzzles, and Yoongi just resorts to watching the two of you.

The way your hand goes from holding Yoongi's to touching Hobi's palm, then back to his like a bumblebee darting between flowers. A small smile works its way onto Yoongi's face. Even more when you pinch Hobi's ass and Hobi acts appropriately scandalized. Only you could get in on his and Jungkook's near-perpetual ass-touching competition.

(Yoongi's smile grows wider without him even realizing it).

There is a spread on the dining room, three heavy brown paper bags not just of breakfast sandwiches wrapped in checkered paper but biscuits in syrupy gravy, french toast sticks with honey yellow syrup, and a whole tray of tater tots that Jin pops into his mouth with a satisfying crunch. Half of the pack is still in their pajamas; it can't be later than 11.

Namjoon and Jimin are noticeably absent from the table- at work. But Hobi, Jin, and Tae are setting up the plates. Jungkook's already showered from his morning run- his hair all locky and tangled.

Tae looks a vision in a pair of flared yoga pants and Yoongi just blinks at her thighs, not realizing he’s staring until Hobi pinches his thigh for it. You laugh too and pull out the chair next to him with a squeak while Hobi hands out sandwiches and Jungkook cuts them into perfect triangles.

Yoongi blinks down at his plate, and he’s got a quarter of everyone’s sandwich on his, easily more than he can eat but still- You trade, cutting thirds and halves to try them all. Yoongi stares at them and feels fresh wetness on his lash line. Tae notices him staring, and she’s got sesame seeds stuck in what's left of her lipstick when she smiles.

“We didn’t know what you liked- so we got you two.”

And oh, Yoongi can’t breathe. The love in his chest bullies away the oxygen. How lucky he is to have people that get him two sandwiches instead of one, how lucky he is to have a house full of laughter and warm bellies and-

Hobi gets him a cup of coffee, Jin nurses his, thick-rimmed glasses and warm cheeks chubby as he looks across the table at Yoongi like he knows. He leans across the table to tangle their hands while he flips through his phone. Leaving the beta to his overfull heart.

“Tae- your nail appointment isn’t until 1- would you like Jinnie to curl your hair for you?”

“Can we try a new style this time? Space buns?” Tae asks so so sweetly- already wearing lipgloss even though she must have barely left the house. The smile never falters, just spreads wider when he stares at the glossy pink.

Jin hums, happy, "Of course."

"I love you guys" Yoongi whines. looking at Jin because he can't look at you. Telling everyone- because he can't tell just you. And really it's the truth. Jin blinks and looks up at him. A smile spreading on his chubby cheeks.

"Aw- someone's sappy." Hobi teases. "For the record, love you too"

"for the record; He just woke up" You peck the back of Yoongi's neck and shivers erupt all over his body. you lean behind him to swat at Hobi's shoulder. "Give him a break." The sound of chairs scraping hides Yoongi's whine and his blush.

"For the record, Love you too bun,"

Tae snorts, eyebrows knitting together as Jungkook sits on her lap instead of the chair right next to him. "Weird, but I like it" she pauses, "for the record."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, "oh my god stop-"

"For the record; Hobi started it."

"You guys call me bunny and bun all the time- I should be able to use it too!" Jungkook smirks, pausing for dramatic effect. "for the record."

Yoongi groans and you giggle. "Okay I'm done," Yoongi's smiling anyway

You sit, a little clumsy, and your coffee spills a little onto the dark wood table. Jin wipes it up with a tut, eyes still on the schedule. “There’s nothing else much for today just Tae’s appointment. Anyone else want to do anything?”

“Wanna cook together tonight?” You ask, Yoongi pulls your chair over to rest against his properly, he can still pull you over with little effort but it’s getting harder each day.

It’s a good sort of hard. You have half of a sandwich on your plate a quarter of Tae’s and another small corner in your hand half gone already. Yoongi should start working out with Jungkook- so that he’s as strong as you need him to be.

You look at him, and then down at your nearly pressing thighs, “wanted you to be closer to me.” He says, and then cringes, Hobi laughs at him and hits his plate with a metal clink. You just hum and turn back to your breakfast. Yoongi can see the smile in the curve of your cheek, can see it in full when he turns your face to wipe away the sesame seeds stuck to your mouth too.

"Yeah, what do you want to make Jin?"

You talk it through. You and Yoongi and Jin- easily launching into what you'll make, what you'll bake and barter for another night of full bellies and a full house of love. and although it involves a trip to a grocery store, it's easily set into motion.

Hobi asks you if you’ll walk with him to work today, he has to go in a few minutes and it’s not that far of a walk. 10 minutes. Half a mile.

But you say you’ll go only if Yoongi does too and he’s agreeing before he even realizes it. But as far as mornings go, walking Hobi to work and getting to walk home with you isn’t the worst way things could go. Not by far. Neither is the way that you tug his jacked tighter against his throat in the doorway of the flower shop. The roses in the windowsill all yellow.

“I’m really not all that cold.”

“Still, I always want you to be warm”

"I like taking walks after breakfast," you say after another few minutes of walking. Light. Calm. The cold air encourages more pink from your cheeks. The sun streaming through the leafless branches now that the storm has pulled off.

"We can do it tomorrow if you want." Whatever you want.

Maybe you’ll even hold hands (you will, Yoongi will reach for your hand first, and you’ll walk in quiet that isn’t so quiet all turn to you pointing to someone’s porch and the flowers they’ve already put out in their pots. Bright pansies, splotches of color among the springtime drudgery, and the million shades of grey and taupe.

“Do you think we can plant flowers soon?” Yoongi will say maybe, but Hobi will bring a flat of pansies home before either of you can text and ask.

But that will be later. For now, Yoongi just looks at you next to him on the dining room table, thumb rubbing up and down your thigh, forgetting to chew as he looks at you. Forgetting to take a bite of the sandwich slowly falling apart in his hands. The cheese and the egg sliding out. Both yellow, both yummy, both needed. 

Yoongi looks at you until Tae reaches over to pinch his thigh and he jumps. The egg in his sandwich slips out, hitting his plate with a slap.

Yoongi smiles, (really, the love is spreading like wildfire, slipping in through the windows like beams of sunlight, moving easily and unabated, like light through air).

“Eat your breakfast hyung- it’s getting cold.” She chirps.

Yoongi gladly complies, hungrier than he's been in years.

(In the end, forgiveness is not something that is inevitable. Forgiveness is something that you want to give, you have to want it with that person and they have to want it too. You have to give.

Yoongi will give and give and give.)

~-~

It happens on one of those evenings:

The nesting room is silent with the sound of sleeping packmates. The long curtains piled on the floor and two sets of bunny slippers sit unattended by the nest entrance because Jungkookie’s toes get cold sometimes and you like to match. His blue and yours pink. The Christmas lights up above are dimmed to a soft moonlit glow, lighting the bodies of your sleeping pack; gentle and heaped like sweet pavlova.

The door at the top of the stairs is open. There’s nothing to keep out tonight; no darkness or bad dreams. Nothing to fight off besides the vague feeling of childlike adventure that you gladly welcome inside. Not the sound of Noodle zooming around downstairs or the creeks of the house that’s almost finished.

Almost, it’s getting there. Yoongi has been working hard.

You and Hobi turn restless tonight. The only ones truly awake. Not with unease or with nightmares- too real and long gone. It’s not the memories of people with silver hair and dishonest smiles that keep you awake. Those villains are for dragons vanquished or papers in ashes that will never rise again to taunt you with their secrets.

There is no tower that you’re trapped in, at least not physically. Even mentally too. Any mental foes or sickness left in the confines of your head can wait until a later date.

Maybe it’s because of the full moon, the pearl bubble of your soul that matches and turns and keeps you awake, restless beneath the pink light. Maybe it’s because you both napped earlier with Yoongi in the nesting pod.

You’ve been doing that a lot more frequently over the last few days, taking little moments with Yoongi; spending breakfast in bed, cooking together most nights, sitting next to him always. Even small dates. Not even fancy ones but silly little outings that make you feel younger than you are.

Trips to his old coffee shop where he met Jin. His and Hobi's old record store, and Hobi's flower shop. Sometimes you leave separately and meet there to make it feel more like a date date. And Yoongi pretends he's surprised by the color of lipstick that Tae chose and you admire the ruffle of his tousled hair (he fussed with it for a few minutes in his car).

You'd never had a chance to date properly the first time.

It makes your relationship feel newer than it is. It makes you feel like you're making an effort instead of just having fun with your mate. It makes you feel like the drips of yellow paint on your sleeve- that had gotten there during the little sip and paint that you did last Thursday.

You'd gotten so giggly on cheap wine that you had to call Namjoon to pick you both up. You’d gotten handsy in the backseat and filled the car with the scent of arousal strong enough that Namjoon’s knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel. Barely a brain cell to scrape together to concentrate on driving.

Or the next day when you’d gotten dolled up just to go to different bakeries and sample cakes, eating them in the car with the windows rolled all the way down and the heat blasting. “This ones so good, have a bite.”

The two of you might be foodies actually, you might have found a shared hobby with it- testing pastries and food. You like the little things like fancy chocolates and fancy teas. It’s going to be your thing- the sweets. You can tell.

But for now, Yoongi sleeps peacefully not far from you as you look over at Hobi, eyes open in the darkness, face upturned, chest rising and falling just a bit too quick for him to be totally asleep. The windows are open and the night air is cool. You can press as close to the others as you want and you won't get too hot. You'd taken full advantage of this hours ago, snug tight under Namjoon's arm. His soft snore a special sort of lullaby.

You haven’t felt this calm in years. It doesn't make you choke up because you've felt this way before and you're getting used to it. The springtime air smells like rain, like the ocean already although you know it sits miles and miles away.

It might be another false spring- but the pack takes what it can get.

The nest is still quiet when you turn to Hobi and find his eyes open and bright in the darkness. Namjoon’s phone on the shelf reads 5:04 am. It's early enough to go back to bed but instead, you scoot over to Hobi when you see he’s awake, gently setting yourself first over Namjoon’s chest and then sliding down his other side to get to him.

Quieting Hobi’s sleepy giggles with an equally sleepy kiss pressed unhurried to his lips. His hands come up loosely to circle your waist, tired, sleepy. Your lips stay pressed for a breath too long. And Hobi shivers at the feeling of your warm skin pressed to his cold cheek.  

It’s still dark outside, not even the faintest breath of the sunrise cresting the trees. You lie there on your stomach, looking at him and stroking a hand down his cheek in the darkness. You just watch him until he turns at you. A bright mischievousness in his eyes. A bad idea or a very good one depending on how you look at it- cresting his mind.

“You know if we leave right now, we can probably get to the beach before sunrise.”

Bad ideas are made better when chased with dreams, it’s only been a month since everything went down, and maybe two since this got normal between the two of you. The kissing, the looks, the touching. That’s different, but it's still just you and Hobi.

He's still your best friend.

The softness runs a little deeper now. He'll always understand you a little better, a little more than the others. Although you'll give them a few years to try and catch up. Hoseok's love is a little softer, like a sunrise instead of a sunset. With no bursts of color just dark blue one minute and light blue the next, baby blue to blush tones to that weird yellow green of the sunlight.

You smile into the next kiss, eyes opening wider now, and you know you won't easily go back to sleep. “Yeah? Want to go?”

His kiss already tastes like saltwater. “Yeah, come on.”

Getting out of the nest without rousing your packmates proves to be too much of a challenge. (And really you think Yoongi would have a heart attack if you tried to leave without at least telling him where you've gone. He might have forgiven you, but you know better than to poke at his wounds.)

Namjoon groans while Yoongi blinks away the darkness behind his eyes, a big hand closing around your wrists, stopping you when Hobi’s already off the bed. “Pups? Where are you-”

“Just to the beach Joonie,” Hobi ducks to press a kiss to Namjoon’s forehead the same moment you kiss Yoongi’s lips, puckering in sleep and making a soft sweet noise. Your mate smells so good- rolling waves of sweet chocolate- so good that it has you not wanting to leave at all. You linger, kissing Yoongi again when the temptation becomes too much.

He opens his eyes and grins at you. "Want company?"

“You don't have to, we’ll be careful! Promise.”

"Where you going?"

He blinks back his sleepiness but no sooner have you explained what you're doing than are Yoongi's arms going around your waist to pull you in. Sitting up too at the same time. Careful to keep his voice low to not wake the others.

“Let me come with,” Hobi is already grinning, hair sticking up in the back after he pulls a sweatshirt over his head. Namjoon shimmies to the end of the nest apparently coming too- only to knock into Seokjin because Namjoon is always sort of clumsy in the mornings and he always gets a bit tangled in the blankets you roll up to construct the edge of the nest.

Jin’s plush lips pout, eyes squinting in the darkness, “Guys? What’s-”

Then Jin trips over Jimin's legs and the alpha shoots up straight, jostling both Tae and Jungkook (folded under either arm) and everyone is awake and sharing plans.

You tug on warmer clothes because Jin fusses; fuzzy socks, and thick cable knit sweaters. Jin doesn’t bother to put his contacts in, black-rimmed glasses balancing on his nose. A thick scarf that he won’t really need teasing at his rosy cheeks.

together you guide a soft and sleepy Jk down the stairs. Scrubbing at his eyes all puppy cute while you’re morning zoomy. Barely pausing to kick off your bunny slippers. Jimin gets down to tie Tae’s laces so she doesn’t have to bend over so early in the morning.

By the time you get down to the ground floor of the house, the light is already turning the sky a lighter shade of blue. And Hoseok is pushing everyone out the door, sometimes physically, with cries of “Quick! Before we miss it!”

For once, you don’t take two cars. This time you pile all in Hobi’s red car (thankfully gotten back from the police with all but minimal scratches and a hefty fine that Namjoon had reluctantly paid). You sit on each other's laps, ducking your head whenever you see oncoming cars in case they might be cops. (You haven't learned your lesson quite yet, but there is time- you don't have to grow up quite yet).

Tae sits on Jimin’s lap. Hands wrapped around her middle, talking softly over the color of her nails (yellow with chrome, making them look almost buttery). Jungkook sits on Namjoon's lap (the alpha tucks his face into Jungkook’s hair, a little long, a little shaggy, intent on going back to sleep.) And you sit in the middle seat on Yoongi's (playing with your mate's hands, turning them over and over again in yours, until he squeezes them lacing them through.)

The pack omega gets princess treatment on account of having the longest legs. Feet Crossed daintily on the dashboard where it not for his thick slides. Hobi drives and fucks with the playlist. But he doesn't need one. Leaves it alone for once in favor of listening.

Yoongi laughs and you ask him why he is. "Don't take this the wrong way but your ass is so boney, my leg is going numb."

"See! I told you you should come with me to pilates!"

"I'm no princess-"

"No- that's me." Jin snorts from the front seat.

"Joonie that tickles."

It’s only a 15-minute drive on the windy backroads, not so unsafe. Not so necessary that you’ll think about taking two cars and separating your little bundle of love into two places. Headlights crest the hills of shrub roses and shrub oak trees, leggy and just beginning to leaf out.

How is it nearly spring already? When did winter pass? Yoongi’s arms never release your waist, he keeps you like that, close and safe until you skitter into the parking lot.

Jin leaves his red scarf in the car. It sits there in the backseat, a heap of red thread whining over and over again, giving warmth that’s no longer needed. A string of fate organized and neat.

The parking lot at the beach is empty at this time of year and at this time of day. There is no snow piled up in heaps, only remnants in the forms of shallow silver pools and puddles that you traipse through with little regard to the state of your socks. The ocean air is warm, unseasonably so. You’re a mess of tangled limbs and pajamas. Laughs and- “oh my god I have to pee-”

Yoongi loses one of his slides on the way out and Jungkook steals it from the pavement. Running off with it and leaving him to hobble on one foot, only to bring it back after a second. And you let Yoongi place his hand on your shoulder for balance while he slides his sock back into it. Worried about getting his socks wet. His hair ruffled and eyes crusty but the sun-

The sun is bright and hot against your cheeks, wind whipping picking up your hair as it crests the horizon. You run out to the edge of the ocean, your legs fighting to keep up with Jungkook who's faster than you now that he's fully awake.

Water soaks pajama hems and you tread a little too close to the shore. It's low tide and the sea is far out. Sea spoils dot the wet sand, joining the reflection of the sky up above and the stars winking out one by one as the sky lightens slow.

You’re the first one to lift your hands, to shout and run as fast as you can (which isn’t very fast at all, so it’s a good thing they give you a head start) but the others follow without much preamble. Giggling and rushing to get to the sea in time.

It’s warm- the wind coming off the sea is warm and damp and lovely. Spring is here, happiness is here- and it might never be going away again. Not if you can help it and not if you hold onto it. You have seven other people to help you hold on tight and never let go.

No matter how hard it gets- you’ll hold onto it. You promise. (Promise me okay?)

Jungkook catches up to you first in the warm sunny sand. He picks you up and twirls you round and round. Shaking you a little, the same way that Noodle might shake a toy. You giggle, high and melodic.

You only see it for a second, spinning round and round- but the rest of them Seokjin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Tae, Jimin, Yoongi- they all stop where they’re running and watch. You’re dizzy when Jungkook stops, his grin pressed to your shoulder, arms hard under your shoulders. Clinging to him still- not putting you down because you’re dizzy and he’s still lifting you up.

“Jungkook- oh my god put me down- I’m heavy Koo- ” You’re a little panicked, a little startled, but laughing all the while.

“Not really. I can still carry you.” He tosses you up and catches you- shrieking even though you don’t really leave his hands. Clinging to him, scared of the weightlessness before he sets you down where you teeter, unsteady, dizzy but still laughing.

Your hands stay around his shoulders, on your tippy toes, and he raises his eyebrow at you.

The others catch up and Jimin leans down to squeeze around your middle. Salt air tickles your forehead.“You’re like hardly a work out-“

Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip, “guys-“

Jimin shows you it’s not a big deal by heaving you up and over his shoulder. leaving you shrieking again.

“Minnie no!”

"Minnie yes"

Jungkook and Jimin take off and Hobi and Yoongi chase them down, you feel a bit like a chew toy but in the best way, in the way that makes your stomach light and crinkly from the giggles and laughter. You end up with your knees in the sand and Jungkook against your stomach. Hobi behind you, hands fighting Jungkook's. wrestling over you until none of you have anymore energy for it. All of you are covered in sand but you're laughing so hard you taste salt.

You end up sitting there, at the edge of the storm line, where the sand goes hard and crusty at your feet but light and fluffy by your hands. You watch the rest of the sunrise like that. The good part. The best part when the colors bleed across the blue horizon line all yellow and gold.

Namjoon holds out a hand for Jin to get down, a bit more dignified than your sprawling mess of pups. And the pack omega leans sideways against Yoongi’s shoulder. Complaining squeakily about the state of his knees.

You settle against the sand. The eight of you curled close to keep out the last bit of cold. Eyes burning as you watch the sunrise and can't tear your eyes away. Until the sky turns that unmatched shade of blue, the kind that is never quite replicated by nature. Not in roses or daisies or in the color of people’s eyes. Everything blue blue blue.

Your sweatshirt is one of Yoongi's, the same color. Tae’s nails are that purple-blue too as she holds Jimin’s hand in the sand. The same color as the tiny piece of sea glass that Hobi pulls from between his legs because he somehow always finds sea glass. The best at finding lost things.

His hand slides around your middle, pulling you to rest firmly against the hollow of his chest. And his other raises to show you the little fleck of sea glass. Balanced on his index finger.

"It's a lucky find," you say. Hoseok hums behind you. Agreeing. Warm.

Later, you look over at him in the bagel shop (because if you’re going to have an early morning outing then it might as well come with breakfast and coffee.) You sit together with Hobi, Waiting for your sandwiches and your lattes.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jin sit at one table and bicker over the merits of avocado toast. While Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook take over the other playing some game that involves flicking a quarter over each of their sides and playing footsie under the table too.

Although Namjoon and Jimin will get frustrated and tug all of the red and white metal tables together before long- No one has the mind for it yet. All of you are still sleepy and pupish and young in a way that you haven't been, haven't felt in such a long time.

Growing up can wait for a day more, growing up can always always wait.

(You haven't thought about it at all today- what Geumjae did to you. You haven’t thought about the hurts in your past at all today and you won’t, the day will pass and it won’t weigh on you, you won’t even notice. That’s the way healing goes- you hardly notice)

(Later there will be food and you won’t think about eating it at all. Hoseok will make your sandwich up just the way you like it and you won't even have to ask for it. You'll eat the same way you love, messy like children but with so much hope in it.)

At the bagel shop, You’ll reach over and wipe your thumb across his lips to get some cream cheese off and it will be the first breakfast of many you’ll spend with him. How lovely is it- to get to spend mornings with the people you love? How lovely it is to lose track of the days and hours and kisses. To not count first kisses anymore and only count more.

You and Hobi are quiet where you sit at the metal tables, it’s not an uncomfortable silence, unbroken by ego or arrogance or anything of the sort. He looks over and smiles at you.

And because he asks, “What are you thinking about?” You give him an honest answer.

“Being at the beach like that,” Your hands play with the piece of blue sea glass he got you, your pockets are full of them because you spent a few minutes once the sun was up walking until the others called you back. Hand in hand, stopping only to pick up more.

“With the sunrise and the sunlight all around us, It kinda felt like the world was giving me a really big hug, do you think that’s stupid?”

(Neither you nor Hobi is thinking about what was done to you. Not even a little bit, not even at all. I hope you never think about it either. I hope you get to have days where you don't remember. Where you forget what it was like to need to be strong. May the prey animal part of you that lingers in your body and remembers be turned soft and docile with age. May you forget what it's like to be hunted and afraid. I hope you forget him. The man who hurt you. I hope you forget what he looks like and the sound of his voice. I hope you forget it all.)

“I don’t think that’s stupid at all.”

He pulls his chair over to your side of the table and puts his chair right next to yours so that your thighs can touch. Even though it’s a public place and even though it’s probably not appropriate. He pecks your shoulder and squeezes around your waist extra tight, grinning. It’s an awkward sideways hug but he pulls you as close as he can until it forces a giggle from your stomach. His palms press flat against your stomach and his thumb rubs up and down. Slowly.  

“In case you want one more, what’s another hug after all?”

~-~

Notes:

It's a sweet sort of irony, that this chapter is going to be posted when the people who live in the bily house are getting married <3 like what are the odds of that.

i think that this chapter is the real like- spot between the chapter chapters of bily and the epilogue! i think you can kind of feel it in the way that the chapter ends.

it's so like me to accidentally talk about tae's boobs for a few paragraphs i can't help it her tiddies are just so special to me. like 10/10, i saw a picture of dita von tess and just so you know...in my mind after tae gets a boob job- which she will- this is just me forshadowing it- thats the kinda tiddies she gets <3 cute lemon shaped ones!

the line about tae liking hyung more than oppa to use for the other members of the pack- is just kinda edgeing on an idea i've had for a while about my own gender thoughts- and thats that you can take what you like and what you don't like from each gender and make it what you want regardless of how you identify.

it's easy to forget that yoongi is also traumatized too you know? he needs so much hugs in this,

it always hits me how stylistically different i write the characters in bily- like this chapter i feel like i really got to develop yoongi's internal voice like- he's a very even cut of internal monologue, action, and sensation. different than the m/c who tends to be sensation first and then action, and jimin who is all bland sensation, and tae who has a very very strong internal monologue.

In many ways this chapter feels so like- stylistically light- like i think this entire series i've been trying to capture the feelings of found family- and you know-= this one gets alot of it right.

[tvgals]

‘ TELL THEM THE TRUTH . ‘

— when they reveal their secret identity as spider-man, it’s too late.

MILES MORALES —

miles was looking all over new york for you. in the alleyways, behind buildings, even inside some of said buildings. but he just couldn’t find you. miles decided to search on foot. he knew it was risky, but so was the chances of losing you. he ignored the plea to take photos or go places with people, he needed to find you first. miles called your phone multiples times, looking for the last location it pinged — in between two shady buildings. miles follows the map and after twenty minutes of searching, miles found you. you were curled up in a ball, trying to run away from the cold that was engulfing your body that no one else seemed to feel. miles drops down next to you and pulls his mask up, bringing you to his chest. “y/n?” miles whispers, gently shaking your body. you let out a weak “hm?” in response. miles sighs and heaves you onto his back.

“stay awake, okay?” miles says, holding onto your hands for dear life. you open your eyes to only a squint, you look to see spiderman.. “miles?” you whisper, earning a faint “yeah?” you put two and two together, realizing that your boyfriend of six months was spider-man. that when he was flaky on dates or not responding to texts, he was saving brooklyn. that even in your last moments, miles was your hero.

HOBIE BROWN —

hobie let his tears fall in the corner silently as he watched you fight for your life in the blinding white hospital bed. this all happened because he wasn’t watching you — because he wasn’t paying attention. hobie sat next to you, biting his lip. “please wake up, love. i know i’ve been distant and we haven’t been talking, and that when we did talk, it was always an argument. i’m saving the world for you, babe. this is all for you. everything i do,” hobie takes a deep breath, making sure no one was in earshot for what he was going to tell you. “i’m spiderman. that’s why i’ve been gone so much, and why i haven’t been home with you. i was planning everything out for our one year — got ya’ pretty flowers ‘nd cute chocolates…” hobie sniffs, draping his lean frame onto your legs.

“i love you, y/n..”

PAVITR PRABHAKAR —

this has never happened on his watch. this WOULD never had happened if he was a good spider-man. if he was as good as everyone else in the spider society. a train had came down from one of mumbai villains, you not being able to move out of the way before gravity weighed down and you were crushed. pavitr searched everywhere for you, between the crowds of people and the rubble, pavitr couldn’t tell which from what. that was until he saw your hand — he knew it was yours from the red and pink bracelet with you twos initials on it — sticking from under the freight train. pavitr wanted to throw up, he wanted to sit there and sob and reign hell on the monster that did this to you.

“y/n? y/n please, please wake up.” pavitr says, holding your hand from under the rubble. he wasn’t strong enough to lift this train himself, so he took almost all of the citizens from mumbai and lifted the train, revealing your bloody and bruised body.

“oh my god.” pavitr whispers, picking you up and running you from the scene, laying you down on an open lot and taking his mask off, tears cascading down his face. “please wake up.” pavitr shakes you, his suit still on for display. “i was gonna tell you today, i really was..” pavitr whimpered, pulling you into his body.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

GWEN STACY —

gwen was breathing, she’s sure of it. she thinks so. she might be. but how can she breath when her girlfriend is laid out on the ground bleeding from a hole in her back. gwen covers her mouth and practically runs towards you, dropping to her knees when she’s next to you. she knew this was a bad idea. she knew that getting attached to you was a bad idea. she knew that as soon as you and her got together something bad was going to happen. gwen thought the two of you could outrun it. that the two of you would’ve been together forever.

“wake up, y/n wake up.” gwen cries, shaking you by your arm, “please?…” she whispers, your body cold and lifeless.

“i was gonna tell you i swear. if i told you sooner this would’ve never happened. i’m so so sorry..”

TAGLIST ; — @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly

[insuke69]

What's in a name? P2

Part I, Part II, Part III

2/3

☆ Hobie brown × Rich!Osborn!reader

★ Synopsis: Osborn is almost a disgusting name because of the messed up things it has and the dirty money that holds it up by threads. And here is the child that sneaks out one night and meets a punk that goes directly against her father.

✩ Warnings: cussing, Some more angst, 'crybaby’ reader, misunderstanding, SMUT

★ smut: P in V, unprotected, pull-out-method, oral (F!receiving), pierced pp.

Rating—M

✩ 7,1k words

______

If one word could describe how the next few days of your life was, It’d be bittersweet.

Bittersweet Because of how sweet Spiderpunk was to you. Or rather, how sweet he was to who he thought was Emily.

So sweet while you couldn’t describe how you felt with him, with your own behavior more open and carefree with that dark mask you bare almost every night when you sneak out and ‘accidentally’ run into him. It makes you grin like an idiot when he stands close or when you see him webbing over to you as you chill around the bench.

That bench where you two met, where you always helplessly cried as a little girl now being a place you look forward to going every day. The second the sun sets you tell Roxy you’re going out and you stay out until any hour of the night with not even Roxy knowing about the special punk that makes your heart pound and your body ease with some kind of feeling that makes you want to be close to him physically and emotionally.

Something about how exhilarating and free you felt around him, his arm around you while you held onto him. You two often webbed some nights, to buildings you know inside out since you helped your dad design some, or some simple spray painting in canals, and if you were lucky: You two would end up on some rooftop talking while looking into the night sky with few stars because of light pollution.

One night you’re bent beside your bed with the collection of pictures with you and Spiderpunk, you’re wondering if you should show him who you are: But that's the bitter part.

Spiderpunk loves and is close to the masked street artist he simply knows by her fake name, Emily.

Bitter because he doesn’t care for the actual woman below the mask, yet he enjoys the mask and the personality below. Spiderpunk seems to despise y/n Osborn. He doesn’t make his rebellious habits too known since he didn’t do that for attention and was always his own unfiltered and blunt self. How the hell will you two ever know each other when he wears his mask for anonymity and you wear yours to not end up getting stabbed at every turn.

“I just.. I feel like she's always trying to act as if she’s so much better than her dad, when she doesn’t even leave her house to avoid the people who see her as she is.” you remember Spiderpunk shrugging since the topic had moved to ‘you’.

“Yeah? What a hot take.” You comment sarcastically with a chuckle. You couldn’t defend yourself/who is the true woman behind the mask since he would likely be offended that you would defend the daughter of such a monster.

Your small memory moment cuts short as you hear your door knock in the way you know exactly who is the one behind the door and quickly shove the shoebox full of pictures of Spiderpunk and you with the art you’ve been putting up on most osborn buildings under your bed and sit on the edge of it while the door opens and Roxy walks in.

“Hey, remember to get ready for the event.” She said as she looks away from you and goes straight to your closet. “This is important to your father, he needs his daughter there and he needs you to behave for it.” Roxy continued as she began picking out an outfit for you.

This was a christmas event where your dad made a whole thing just to show off he donated some money to a cause about homeless and unfed people around in Brazil, meanwhile he hates the needy people down in the city less than a ten minute drive away–and actively keeping them ignored.

“What's the.. Uhm..” You begin before pausing to think of the word,

“Schedule? It's from five to twelve.” Roxy chimed.

“What? Dude! I won’t be able to go out w-” You cut yourself off before rewording your words, “I don’t want to go.” you say as you lean back on your hands before adding with a scoff. “It’s a waste of time and we both know I just have to smile for a camera and look pretty like some display model.”

Roxy didn’t know about Spiderpunk, nobody did. You couldn’t let her know about Spiderpunk, it's one thing to sneak out and arrive home late with spray paint stains and smelling like an unfamiliar cologne and musky scent faintly drafting through the air you walk through–mostly because you have to hold onto Spiderpunk as you two swing through the musty camden air.

“Yes, but you also have to understand how important this is to your father, and I’ve been trying my very best to make sure your Mr. Osborn h-”

“My dad, Norman, I couldn’t care less.” you interrupt with a slight grimace, “You don’t have to ‘Mr. Osborn’ him to me.”

Roxy nods and clears her throat, “Norman,” She corrected, “In shorter words, I’ve trying so damn hard to make sure he doesn’t find anything out about whatever the hell you do when you go out, The least you can do is listen to me and miss what you do just this once.”

Her tone is a bit exasperated while still calm as if it were nothing while she rummaged through your closet and took out a sparkly low cut red dress with black edges along with lace over where cleavage would’ve been visible, along with black stilettos. She places the dress and pair of shoes onto your bed beside where you sat and moved over to your vanity for the jewelry to wear with everything, settling on a pearl necklace and a pair of white gold earrings and placing them in the middle of your vanity for you to put them on before makeup.

“I still don’t get why you have to pick out my outfits, still.” You murmur under your breath with snark as you look over what Roxy had set up for you.

“You are still dependent.” She answered bluntly while grabbing tights for you, fishnets to have below the skirt of the dress.

Still dependent.

You go quiet for a moment. So even Roxy thinks you’re a daddy's girl who can’t think for herself. She’s always picked your outfits for you for events, it always pissed you off how she never wanted to teach you about what colors clash or what is too tacky. How are you supposed to know if nobody has taught you anything?

“Your hair will be half up-half down.” Roxy adds as she gestures to what she had set up for you.

At least you had your own abilities to do your own damn hair, how generous. And with that, Roxy had walked out of your room to leave you get changed and ready for the event.

You roll your eyes and start getting changed, you look at yourself in the mirror and take a breath before testing your fake smile while looking at yourself, partially not really recognizing the reflection behind it.

Some dolled up girl wearing things that cost more than most people can wish for, your money that you don’t earn, you can't earn anything. You’re like some little girl who has to rely on the people who refuse to even teach you anything. Your face just feels as if you’re being forced to enjoy and display everything that holds blood and dirt, almost muddily dragged on your skin and collar bone.

You huff and rip your gaze from the mirror and move back to your bed to take out the balaclava and gloves hastily and shove the shoebox back under your bed and hidden away then moving over to your closet and grabbing a black and white purse–shoving in the gloves and mask before spraying on your usual perfume and leaving your room to start being on your way to the event.

_____

In summary:

The event is shit, the event has loud music, loud overwhelming music, the whole time you have to be stood with a smile that barely reaches your eyes and having to awkwardly hug or shake hands with the most random strangers you have to interact with.

There's good food and catering–but you for whatever reason was told to stay by the big decorative tree and some security guards around you since it's the usual thing at events, your father isn’t really loved by all so it's for your safety to have some random big dude hovering your every move and interaction.

“Hey, what time is it?” You ask the taller man who wore dark sunglasses and a serious look on his face that barely glance at you, almost protecting you like you were some safe that has to be observed because of secrets and riches it held.

“It’s..” He changed his statue-like position and checked his watch, “Seven o’four.” He answered while moving back to his earlier position and staring dead ahead as if you were medusa, he was still and cold as stone anyway.

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest at the time. Five more hours of standing beside some man who doesn’t care to at all speak or interact with ‘the goods’ or the product he's protecting? No. You glance around and see some double doors that are labeled with two signs which indicate a woman's bathroom and the dude bathroom with a smaller sign with some writing that you can’t read all that well.

You take a step to walk in that direction before feeling a hand on your shoulder like a chain around your ankle holding you back.

Oh right, the statue-bodyguard

“Where do you th-” The guy began before you shake his hand off of your shoulder and keep walking in that direction.

“Bathroom! Little lady Osborn has to go to the ladies room.” You say sarcastically while walking over to the doors you saw, the bodyguard letting you go after saying something about not wasting time and five minutes–you tuned him out because you already felt so free without him hovering.

You walk towards the doors and read small instructions that pretty much tell you/the one reading that where the bathrooms are.

Turn left to the second hall and third door to the right, follow the hall where the restroom signs are.

-Oscorp

You push the door and walk through to see some big hall where there are other rooms, an untouched area of the venue that seemed to be rooms to take care of kids, like some daycare or classrooms. The hall has a barely yellowish tint and has a hall that goes to the bathrooms. You explore a bit more to find an exit with a bright green sign to indicate exactly what it is.

You grin and clutch your purse as you head to the emergency exit and push it open–the cold air of the night hitting you immediately and you curse at yourself for leaving your sweater to the guard.

You take a deep breath and let the cool air flood your lungs before taking a few steps away from the building to find what part of the city you’re in and start walking more while taking out your balaclava and gloves then putting them on.

You zone out while taking the refreshing walk away from the loud party your dad- well, ‘oscorp’ has thrown, a wasteful event full of music and food to distract people from the ruined lives caused by this large and overrated company.

You then hear a familiar THWAP appear from behind you.

Oh god.

Not now-

Your mask is over your face along with your gloves but that doesn’t hide your expensive jewelry or dress, or heels or anything of the sort that shows you aren’t the lower middle class woman Spiderpunk should think you are.

“Emi’?”

A voice you always want to hear, whether it's asking or telling you something, whether it's called out or whispered in your ear, you love whenever his deep cockney words are directed at you. The nickname he gave you since he often joked about Emily being too much of a hassle to pronounce.

But right now it feels horrifying, heart full of dread at the possibility of him figuring out you aren’t who you’ve been saying you are- hell- your name isn’t even Emily, you just named yourself after your dead mother.

“Emily.” Spiderpunk said more firmly once he recognised that mask, the same mask he sees most nights–and to little of your knowledge..

Really want to see what's below it.

Really wants to see the face of the woman he's growing to love.

You swallow your pride and turn to face him as if you were a kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

The lenses to spiderpunks masks widen a little as if to represent a bit of surprise once he sees the figure below what he usually sees, a worn out hoodie or random tee and some jeans. But now he's seeing a curvaceous colored figure in a dress that's glamorized with jewelry made of pearls and white gold, shining in the streetlight and faded moonlight.

You expect his expression shift of disgust or something at how you’re dressed, rich girl, looking like a classy brat whether there's a mask and gloves to seal something that's already leaking through your image. You’re ready to blink away tears at the feeling of your sinking heart, hands tensing and feeling like you’re holding the world's problems along with your own chained to your palms.

But to your surprise, he starts to shrug off his iconic leather jacket, before you can get a word in he passes it to you and puts it over your shoulders. “Its cold as hell tonigh’, what the hell are you wearing out here.” He says playfully with a chuckle as he looked over at you so the rhetorical question sinks in.

How the hell are you supposed to answer that?

“Uhhhhhhh..” You try to register the warm jacket now over you that had that lingering punk scent that a part of you wanted to steal genuine sniffs but you knew you couldn’t really other than subtle inhales, that scent so comforting for no reason beside the one who radiates it.

“I was at an.. ‘Important’ event but snuck out like usual.” You summarize as you adjust the jacket so you can put on the sleeves and snuggle into its warmth and scent.

His warmth and scent.

“So d’you wan’ to do the usual bullshi’ on rooftops or do you wan’ to jus’ want to fuck around Osborns buildings some more?” He asks with a grin in his voice as he lazily puts his long lanky arm around your waist like he did every night ‘platonically’, ready to tighten his hold the second you say yes for you two to swing wherever.

You smile and nod “Yeah no, I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s with you.” to which he happily shoots a web and you both begin swinging through the well lit streets of Camden, at least the part of town you both were in. The cold air soon felt a bit heavier, indicating the part of town less taken care of and more polluted. You two glide over several streets but Spiderpunk lowers and slows down around an alleyway, a familiar alleyway..

The Alleyway that started it all.

You could see the same gas station a bit down the street, bright and open. The same station where you had bought food for..

“Squaishy!” Spiderpunk greeted that same person as he let go of your waist and left you to come closer on your own accord instead of dragging you into the space, not knowing at all what has happened here for you. Little did Spiderpunk know that ‘Squaishy’ was the one who caused your tears that night. Squaishy seemed to be doing better but still with the worn out jacket but they were happy and glad to see Spiderpunk as they greeted each other with a handshake and small hug, A smile in Spiderpunk’s lenses. But Squaishy’s eyes darken as he looks over at you and recognizes your mask.

But Spiderpunk follows his gaze, not realizing the tension. “Squiashy! This is my friend, Emily.” he introduced as he put his hands on your shoulders and almost pushing you into the conversation.

A knowing amused smirk falls onto Squaishy’s lips as they raise their eyebrows, “Emily?” He echoed.

Fuck.

“I have to go.” You say abruptly before Squaishy can have a quip or comment about your name..

Or mentions that it isn’t your actual name.

Words couldn’t explain how Spider-punk looked as his head whipped to look in your direction as if you said something so appalling that it insulted his whole bloodline, “Wha’?” He asked as the lenses of his mask widened, looking almost like round ovals–but the important thing is that you suddenly feel his eyes burning into yours, as if he was shifting his attention onto you to not leave so soon. Squiashy’s smug expression shifts slightly when he notices how Spiderpunk when from seeming happy and in a good mood, to worried and uncertain.

“I was out on a walk.. You know, from where I escaped-slash-snuck out from, and I don’t want them noticing I’m gone or anything since I’m an ‘important factor’.” you say awkwardly, trying your best to say everything but nothing at the same time.

Hobie isn’t stupid though, he can always tell when there’s more to the story, especially now since your excuses are getting more vague and sloppy.

“I can take you back?” He offers, either wanting to spend more time with you or curious as to what you do or who you actually are. These half truths are starting to make Hobie more curious of the woman behind the balaclava every night. At his offer, trying to know more about you, not knowing that you aren’t the Emily you’re displaying yourself to be.

Emily is bold, playful, sarcastic, sweet, thoughtful and fun. She's the woman spiderpunk wants to hold close at night and would do anything to see her eyes below the mask smile.

But he didn't know the person who you have to keep hidden from him like how you keep ‘Emily’ from your father.

Y/n is quiet, keeps to herself, diffident, rich and spoiled. The woman who spiderpunk feels indifferent about beyond disdain and a grimace when he hears her, or the Osborn name in general.

“No, no. or.. Can you take me where you found me?” You request awkwardly with a small smile, hoping he’ll say yes, half knowing he will but won’t stop asking things. He’s as curious as a cat.. An adorable, tall, lanky punk-cat.

He nods and says a quick bye handshake with Squaishy and turns back to you, putting his arm around your waist firmly and holding your body against his then shoots a web, soon launching into the air and swinging, your arms and around his neck. Palpable tension beyond your face in the crook of his neck to shield your face from the cold air hitting you both. Tension now because of what even started this relationship..

His unanswered questions, and your half answers.

Once you arrive where Spiderpunk found you, when he sets you down he keeps a hand on your shoulder as if to keep you from leaving/running off. “So, would you mind telling me at least wha’ even’ you’re talking ‘bout?” He prompted as he looked into your visible eyes through the balaclava. It felt like he was looking into your soul, making your mouth go dry.

“..I mind? I’m- I’m sorry but I really do have to g-”

“Don’ start with that!” He cut you off with a scoff as he moves his hand off of your shoulder, letting you be able to go if you really wanted to, “You always have to end up disappearing, I understand your need to have your identity secre’, but at this point it's like you don’ trust me.”

He isn’t wrong but he isn’t right either. You do trust him, there's so much you know you have freedom of doubt in him but.. It's the one thing you can’t tell him about, the one thing that you can’t control and that you doubt he’d understand. The filthy name that comes after your first.

Osborn.

Tears make a glossy layer on your eyes, You’re stuck. On one hand, if you tell the truth, he won’t ever see you the same. On the other hand, If you still avoid it, you may slip up and he’ll find out the hard way.

“Not- not yet.” You whisper, “I’ll tell everything you want to hear, but I just can’t right now.” you murmur as you took off his jacket he lent you and passed it back to him before taking some steps back, as much as you didn’t want this argument to end on this sour note, you couldn’t risk anything going wrong with your father.

Spiderpunk watched with furrowed eyebrows under his mask as you went away, disappearing as you turned a corner. He cursed at himself under his breath as he put the leather jacket back on, a faint lingering fragrance of your perfume, conflicted thoughts and emotions circling his mind like a toy train. On one hand, he knows your boundaries and wants you to be comfortable and able to cry on his shoulder, on the other hand: He won’t let himself be manipulated and lied to, whether he's infatuated or not.

He shook his head and clasped his hands over his face.

“This is a breach of her privacy. This is a breach of her privacy, this is a breach of her-” He repeats in his mind as he shoots a web and runs up a building to arrive at its rooftop. He takes off his mask and stands by the edge as he looks out at the street you went down, his mind screaming at him and his heart telling him it's a bad idea.

“She won’t like that you followed her. She won’t trust you, you can just wait..” “But wait how long? What is so bad that she has to keep it from me? How long can she play me as the fuckin’ fool..” His mind debating against himself, but still looking out for you.

He spots you and jumps over buildings while running, his eyes on you to see where you’re going. What you’re doing. Why you are in such a hurry. Watching as you approach the venue, going towards the door you went out from. Osborn’s charity event.

It was dark but he saw your figure, the way your hands moved to first take off your gloves and shove them into your bag but something fell without you noticing, then your mask. It’s like Hobie was watching it in slow motion, your hands raising to the end of your mask and starting to raise it.

In a flash of awareness, he turned around completely before he saw your face. This wasn’t how he wanted it to happen, this isn't how he wanted to see the woman hidden behind that fabric, but the need to know was almost hurting his mind, but he remembered you dropped something so he put on his mask then jumped and webbed closer to where you were and strained his eyes looking at the ground to see what you dropped.

A gold bracelet with the names “Anne-Marie, Emily, Y/n.”

Spiderpunk read the names and recognized Emily of course, so it was clearly yours, he thought. But he also recognized the name of the offspring of the man he despised. He webbed back up to the building he was on earlier and took off his mask to inspect the bracelet a bit more.

Hobies gaze softened as he gently held the delicate gold bracelet in his hand, for as small and thin it was, it was heavy. It really was gold. Hobie didn’t know what to think. Who are you?

The Event ended eventually and he just watched everyone leave, blankly staring at Osborn and his daughter-

His daughter wearing the same thing you were. The same purse hung on your arm.

Hobie felt his heart almost drop.. The woman he wanted to keep safe and protect was the daughter of the man he wanted to protect everyone around them from. He clenched the bracelet in his hand so hard that he bent the gold ever so slightly with his mutated strength. He wanted to laugh at how badly you didn’t want him to figure anything out yet, scream into the sky until it shattered because of the betrayal, the anger, the hatred brewing, the hatred for the Osborn’s moving to ‘Emily’, a girl who he thought was someone humble, who he wanted to have by his side, in his arms, and in his bed. It hurt. The avoidant truths. The way that he couldn’t think straight anymore as his mind and hands were tense.

The car drove off from the venue where the Osborn’s were going home. Hobie was going to confront “Emily”, He couldn’t recognize them anymore. As if he was going to confront a stranger he used to know. He followed the car from afar until it parked, he waited by the forest beside your house, he was about to climb a random tree to get a better view without being seen, but his hand was met with some rough fabric, his first reaction was to clench and pull it down.

He sees that in his hand, is her backpack. The one he looked through naively having little to no idea that she wouldn’t have to be a drug dealer when she can easily buy whatever she wants whenever she wants.

A bedroom window lights up and it catches his attention, he thwips a web to the outside wall and quietly walks on the wall and peeks into the window to see you kneeling down beside your bed in front of a shoebox.

“How was the event, Emi’?” Spiderpunk asked sarcastically as he let himself in through the window, you flinched and eyes shot immediately towards him with your usually smiley and once gorgeous to him eyes as wide as glass dinner plates.

“What- what do.. Shit- I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you bu-” You began as you stood and began walking closer before he cut you off with his voice raised and clear distaste as he spoke to you. You’ve never heard genuine venom in his tone, he always spoke happily with the lenses of his mask beaming.. That was gone, all gone from his hateful gaze.

“Tell me what? That you’re part of a corporation thats forcing Millions of people in poverty? That you-”

“That I have nothing to do with!” You snap, years of verbal abuse from people who have always assumed the worst from you, and now it was even worse since he supposedly knew you internally. “Aren’t you someone who fights against stereotypes? Who fights against things that are unfair?”

“Don’ you dare. Thats differen’, you were actively Lying- Hiding the damn truth from me, Hearing me say all these things about Osborn- Your dad- Ugh.” He groaned while clasping his hand over his face, trying not to yell since he knew about your sensitivity towards being yelled at. “I have been nothing but caring towards you and it feels like you’ve stabbed me in the back.” he summarized, slowly taking off his mask to show his seriousness.. And to show that he still seems to trust you.

He felt betrayed, lied to, his trust was broken–yet.. He would tell you his plans, he would tell you which ones of Osborns buildings he was going to vandalize and on what days he planned to do it, but he’s never been caught.

He’s never been caught, you’ve never snitched.

You were there most of the time, you’ve had every chance to get him in trouble and caught, that means something.

Your expression softens, now wasn’t the time but he was handsome.. Stunning. His eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed while pinching the bridge of his nose, the scowl showed that he genuinely felt conflicted and you had to know the actual reason why. It almost hurts that you are being the cause of his frown instead of the reason of his smile.

You shake off the pained thoughts and continue as you step closer so he could look at you, “Can’t you see why I never told you? Look at how you’re reacting. You know me, or you at least know ‘Emily’, so what makes (y/n) any different?” you ask with a gesture of your hand, “I’m still the same girl who would spray paint with you, who’d come with you to put up art over my father’s buildings, the same girl you laughed with and the girl you held as she cried.” You tell him as your voice trembles with tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, vision already blurred from them pooling in your eyes, looking away before he could see the effect all of this is taking on you.

He's silent for a second, he wants to yell, he wants to talk, he wants to sob, he doesn’t know exactly what to do for a moment so he swallows his pride and interrupts you right before you were about to break the silence yourself.

“Because I loved you!” He spat as if he never wanted to admit it himself, “I loved the girl who’d spray paint with me,” Hobie takes a step closer to you this, “I loved the girl whose art I’d put up on Osborn’s buildings, and I loved..” He trailed off for a moment as he put his hand on your chin to force you to look at him gently, “..The same girl who laughed with me and who I held as she cried.”

Loved.

“Loved”..

“So what? Not anymore? Because of an ‘asshole’ who happens to be my father?” You ask as you pull back from his touch, upset at the fact that Hobie was blaming you for your dad’s actions, “it’s fucking unfair.” You added under your breath as the crybaby in you was coming back stronger for ever, now the frustration from that night and every hateful interaction you’ve had coming back full force.

“I.. don’t know.” He answered honestly with an empty chuckle as if his own internal turmoil was funny as he looked into your watering eyes, knowing full well he was causing them, and that knowledge felt like a drill to his heart.

The water in your eyes thickens as you feel like he’s slipping from your hands, the one person who saw you as a person at one point now seeing you like a monster like everyone else did, always compared to your dad by everyone else, it wasn’t new.. But this just hurt so much more. So much more.

And Hobie’s heart is torn, this wasn’t how he wanted to find anything out, this isn’t how anything was supposed to go, he never wanted to make you cry. He closes his eyes and takes a small breath once your face scrunches up while choking back a sob, remembering how affected you probably are in this moment, recognizing your own heartbreak as he thought of your words.

Unfair.

It was unfair what your father was doing, unfair how many innocent people like Squaishy now sleep in cold tents in abandoned areas just to not be killed due to the cold or by other not as nice vagabonds. Nothing was fair in this moment, no stars were aligned, no god that smiled upon them, no luck in a single charm..

At this point you were on the verge of fully breaking down at this, everything just went downhill in a matter of moments. But the second you let out a choke sob, Hobie knew what to do. You suddenly felt his hand on your jaw and he pulled you into a kiss, a passionate yet soft one. His plump lips and warm piercing against your surprised ones, you fully thought everything was over and here he was: Spiderpunk/Hobie brown, kissing you with his neck craned to accommodate your height and his other hand moving to your waist to hold your body flushed against his.

He was beginning to regret having kissed you at all since you weren’t reciprocating but those thoughts were wiped once he felt your hand move to the side of his neck and an eager response from your mouth. This felt right. Whether you were some masked street artist, The daughter of a sadistic sociopath, or simply (y/n) Osborn, and if Spiderpunk was some masked Vigilante, a punk squatter, or simply Hobie Brown, this was right.

Hobie was clearly more experienced with his kissing skills, considering the fact he probably had more than quadruple the social life you did: He at least probably had much more than double the sex life too. And it doesn’t take long for the repressed emotions, repressed love and the electric tension when you two swung through the city catches up to you two. Hobie’s tongue mixing into the kiss tentatively and his hand that was on your jaw snaking into your hair and keeping you close in an intimate yet not-forced way.

This feeling was intoxicating, finally having him close and his lips slotted in yours, fitting together like some kind of perfect pieces from different puzzles. Hobie advanced ever so slightly which made you take some steps back until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, he then gently pushed you back and climbed on top of you before pulling you into another deep kiss, but more greedy and ever so slightly wanton, and this change of pace made your heart begin to beat a bit more quickly with your lips hardly keeping up with his, his tongue dancing an expert tango and yours swayed a newbie ballet. He probably thought you had some kind of experience but you really didn’t, nobody dared get close to you emotionally and much less physically.

And its like alarms went off the second his hands lowered to your hips and thighs, close to the edge of the dress you had been wearing earlier at the stupid event earlier. You pulled out of the kiss and your hands almost slapped onto his in a haste to stop him, quickly muttering a quiet “Oh shit, sorry.” Under your breath as you rubbed his hands where your hand had landed on.

“You alrigh’?” He asked as his eyes looked into yours, ignoring your apology and focusing on why you had moved your hands to stop him so quickly, not wanting to move past your boundaries–he's not that kind of man, no matter how upset he was at you moments or however badly he wanted you in that moment. He was ready to put you first, you and your comfort first.[a]

“I.. I haven’t really done anything like this before.” You tell him bluntly yet a bit quietly as you averted your gaze in slight embarrassment, he was obviously a pro and an expert and here you were: Hardly able to know what to do with your tongue while making out with someone. This information clicked into Hobie’s mind and he nodded, “You don’ have to do anything you don’ wanna.” Hobie assured you as he gently put a hand to your cheek and made you look at him, his eyes boring into yours with raw concern and care.

“No no- it isn’t that I don’t want to..” Its that you don’t want to disappoint him or underwhelm him, but how the fuck do you tell him that after crying in front of him and literally disappointed him earlier when he learnt who you really were. “..I do want to, but.. I’m no model either.” You say half-jokingly to try to lighten the intense mood.

Hobie nodded again before leaning in and kissing you again, he didn’t really mind as long as you could express your limit, “Alrigh’, but if you need me t’stop, just say the word.” He reassured you while practically looking in your soul through your eyes.

He then leaned in and began kissing your neck, his hand moving to your waist while the other moved to your back and slowly began pulling down the zipper of your dress, the feeling of his touch and his lips on your neck like a kind of blue electricity that went all through you. The dress soon lowered to your waist, exposing your breasts that simply had nipple pads due to the dress having been one of cleavage, Hobie carefully peeled them off and set them aside onto your nightstand and began kissing down your collarbone with one hand already massaging your tit and pinching your nipple, his other hand working to lower the dress more. Over your abdomen, past your hips, down your thighs, and off your legs and body.

He carefully let his hands lower and gently hold the band of your fishnets and panties, but he paused as he awaited a yes or no from you, everything was going to be on your terms.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, breath slightly shaking and his hands were calloused yet soothing on your soft skin, but you wanted more and so you nodded in approval and soon enough–Your panties were gone too, your cunt fluttering once exposed to the cold air and Hobie’s hungry gaze. In a moment of self-consciousness your thighs press together, or at least you try to before Hobie stops you with his hands on your knees and easing them apart, not at all forcefully but just enough to show what he wanted.

“Do ya trus’ me?” He asked softly, the exact same way that spiderpunk did all those nights ago, his hand once that lingered too long on your hip now on your knees, showing yourself and your vulnerability.

“Never stopped trusting you.” You answered with a small approving nod.

And with that, Hobie began to pepper small kisses into the plushy flesh of your thighs and slowly inching closer to where you felt you needed him most. After what felt like hours, he finally reached the lips of your glistening pussy and his warm breath touching your puffy clit. He kissed it once before licking a stripe from your hole to your clit then latching his mouth suddenly to your bud, blissfully making out with your lips expertly like he was with your upper ones earlier.

“Oh.. shit..” You moan breathlessly with your hand knotting into his hair. His hand moves from holding you by the knee to keep your legs spread towards the hole of your pussy, easing in a finger that entered with not too much effort due to his spit and your wet arousal welcoming him. Yet your hips squirming due to the intrusion, making Hobie slow down his finger and focus on your cunt.

He slowly pumps a single finger in your pussy while licking his name letter by letter on your sensitive bundle of nerves.. H-O-B-I-E B-R-O-W-N. You quickly feel yourself get more sensitive and your hips squirm, unsure of how to react to this new sensation, his fingers reaching places you never could and much less stimulation at the same time in your hole as it is in your bundle of nerves.

You quickly come undone and your thighs almost press Hobie’s head between them, but his hand remains on your inner thigh to keep it open, lapping up your juices with his tongue flat on your cunt and his finger pumping in and out a little more before pulling it out of you and licking it clean. Something about this lewd display makes you clench around nothing, maybe it was the fact that he hardly took his eyes off of you once, studying your expression for any hesitance or regret.

He pulled up to show his raging hard-on, straining his jeans and creating a beautiful bulge. You watch as he fumbles with his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his cock springing free and leaking beads of pre-cum, proudly standing eight inches at least, a silver Alberts piercing. He lazily strokes it a few times and aligns it lower to your sensitive virgin hole.

“Please.. Be gentle?” You request softly as you put your hand on his abdomen as if to make sure he had stopped and listened. He nodded before leaning down and kissing your lips slowly and passionately as he slowly eased himself into you with his hands moving to your hips. You felt a slight sting or burn while he pushed himself inside, yet his lips stayed on yours for you to be able to keep your focus and sounds averted while tasting yourself on his tongue. His hips come to halt once he’s fully inside, giving you time to adjust as he separated his lips from yours and waited for your green light patiently.

At the second nod of your head, he slowly pulled out and went in once again, creating a steady rhythm with his hips with pretty groans and praises falling from his lips.

“Fuck.. pretty cun’ sucking me in- tigh’ as hell.. Shi’.” He mumbled beautifully into the crook of your neck while his hips began rutting more into you, as if desperately chasing for more with his piercing stroking your spongey G-spot and his high.

You feel yourself clench around him as your orgasm washes over you once again, Hobie quickly following suit, Pulling out and stroking himself a bit more before finishing and cumming on your abdomen, his hands quickly moving to the sides of your head to stop himself from falling onto you and instead falling onto the space on the bed beside you. He laid on his side with a protective arm around your waist and held you close.

“Emily fuckin’ Osborn.” He mumbled almost to himself as he looked up at your fucked out expression, a small layer of sweat on your pretty face, normally he had fantasized of whoever you were under the mask being an expert at everything including dick and cunt, meanwhile here he was laying beside the daughter of the man he always swore to destroy.

“...Is now a good time to tell you that Emily is my moms name?”

“..wha’?”

___________________________

★| Taglist!:

@craziblondi @fodmdk123 @vinxernica @muffinlovesfiction @jane-3043 @coffeeandtealol @alecmores @azuurr3 @nyumei @noharaaa @alisoncdariel @dailyhobiebrown @malatuadimadre @ziarah @i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car @malyjohn @horrorcore2002 @jess-fae @bluupen

@eyesxxyou

______

I’m really sorry if this is bad/underwhelming/not as good as the last one, I was really rushed and I felt bad for not getting this out sooner :(((

I love y’all so much <3

[prncssie]

( okay I have an idea for a drabble 😭 I kind of got carried away but here goes!! )

Hobie Brown who nevers entertains unwanted attention when you're with him, but can't help when people show interest.

It pisses you off, cause you know people will find him attractive, but it doesn't stop you from feeling jealousy.

Take the wide-eyed girl in the corner for instance, who keeps eyeing Hobie down while you two are at the bar. She stands across from you, making not subtle glances before turning to her friends, the group sharing an obnoxious giggle. you can hear her chat to her friends, making comments about your boyfriend while you're standing right next to him.

So you figure, if she's not being subtle why should you?

mdni or i’ll send a monster under your bed! yk peach, it’s so funny you say this bc i got this magical liddol ask a while ago

‘ve never written it n i don’t know why it reminded me of it but it did 😭 yk i think jealousy n hobie is such an interesting topic to me

i mean, it’s a well known fact that hobie does not get jealous. he doesn’t care who tries to get a peak of your ass when you both stroll by with his arm wrapped around you. he doesn’t care who makes themselves comfortable next to you at a bar to get your attention when he’s stood just arm-length away and listening to the pursuer crack such dry jokes. hobie has seen and experienced it all, especially with such a pretty doll hanging off his arm.

you, on the other hand, are a very different person. you can be a delight all day, a sweetened smile topped with whipped cream for hours on end, but it comes to a screeching halt the moment hobie gets a little too much attention — too many flirtatious giggles in his direction, finger twirls and lingering gazes. you’re not immune to their advances on him. it’s not that you don’t trust hobie. he’s everything to you. there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve had the slightest inkling that he may be up to something nefarious. it’s just that, well to put it simply, he’s not one to ogle at. all the men at the bar to star at and they yours?

in your mind, it can only be expected when you throw back a shot of tito’s and grab a fistful of hobie’s black top. it’s loose on his body and definitely in the more simpler category of all the things he’s ever worn but it’s not even a distant memory in your head when you’re connecting your lips and mixing the bitter bite of the vodka with whatever experimental fruity concoction hobie has been sipping on.

he barely has time to pluck the wooden toothpick he spent the last few minutes gnawing on out his mouth. “careful. wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” his words rumble deep in his chest, akin to the chuckle that follows. hobie’s gentle touch is placed upon the small of your back.

you look just darling in your little two piece, as if handpicked from the tropics and dropped right into his hands. you’re eager, hoping to deter the gaggle of girls just a few feet away. it’s not like hobie hasn’t noticed either. he just doesn’t care. it’s far more amusing to witness you trailing kisses along the column of his throat, planted on the very tips of your toes just to reach him.

in the lowlights, hobie leans against the bar top. a single hand trails up and down your spine, hissing so subtly under his breath each time the edges of your teeth graze your skin. for some, this level of affection is a bit much. for you both, this is a normal wednesday night. “what’s all this fuss about, hm?” his gaze is lazy on you but it doesn’t deter you at all.

you stop on your own volition, curling into his side and offering a doe-eyed look as reparations. your little performance provided the consequence you were hoping for — your stake on hobie has been made known and no longer is he being perceived by the tipsy girls in the corner. “what fuss? what are you talking about?”

“mhm,” he hums just as rumbly as his laughter. this is just another night, just another moment where you’ve felt the need to defend your relationship to someone he couldn’t care less about. if it pleases you, he supposes that’s all that matters. besides, it’s really a win-win anyway. you kept that sparkly blonde from approaching him and you kept that looming man, who managed to stay off your radar might he add, from approaching you.

you’ve managed to do your job and his job in a single blow and that is enough for hobie to justify “celebrating” your victory behind closed doors.

[the-kr8tor]

Alone

Ending two

Solo Mission<<<

You chose the panic room.

The conversation back at the medic bay flickers in your mind, there's a high chance that none of the escape pods would work especially in the ship's condition. So with quick thinking, you and Hobie head towards the other hallway.

Your legs threaten to give out from under you. Breathing staggered, the grotesque being’s pained groans fade behind you. But you and Hobie aren't taking any chances as you both run towards the left where the executive panic room sits waiting for you both.

Hobie's arms aches as he carries the large hand in his grasp. Its fingers are still wiggling, some even poke his chest like It's trying to get his attention.

Boots thump loudly against the floors while you close each shutter on the hallway which were designed to keep explosions away. But based on the sound of metal breaking under an intense force, he guesses that it's only a matter of time before the creature makes its way towards you. The image of you being devoured by the alien has him checking on you with every breath you let out. He has endured much, suffered more, but he won't survive if you don't. You need to live through his, even if it means his end.

You two turn a sharp corner, boots skidding before you both fix your balance without falling. He sees the large circular door with the name that he desperately wanted to see.

“Almost there, love! Keep runnin’!”

The animalistic trilling gets closer, a call that it's near. “Yuri!” It screams in its distorted ghostly voice. “Run!”

“Fuck!” The kaleidoscope of light flits back in his eyes, obscuring his vision for a moment before he slams into the metal door. Groaning, you help him back up on his feet, only to turn back around to aim at the on coming creature.

“Hobie, the scanner!” You yell while a headache blooms in between his eyes. Despite this, he makes his way towards the scanner.

Quickly working through each fingerprint, the thudding footsteps and metal creaking gets closer and closer with every error that pops up.

“Wanker!”

“You can do it, Hobie. You'll find it.” Your reassuring words fires him up even with his sweat dripping off his brow. Your eyes narrow at the empty hallway, trigger finger itching.

The panel beeps, green light flashing on the screen. As the doors open, the alien breaks through the last shutter, appearing behind it despite its skin all shredded up from its numerous injuries. “Run!” Its hands with hundreds of fingers point at you accusingly through the hole it broke through.

Before you could empty out a whole mag at its body. Hobie pulls you inside by your collar, immediately closing the door behind before the creature could get close to you.

As the vault-like door locks in place, Hobie embraces you on the cold floor, quickly taking off his helmet to hide his face in the crook of your neck. After a few seconds of catching up, you hug him back tightly. Warm hands enveloping him as he fiddles with your helmet, clicking it off your head.

The second your helmet falls on the ground, he peppers kisses on your face. His lips don't leave a single space of skin unkissed until you're laughing from under him.

Hobie leans away slightly, only to move back in for a kiss that leaves you more breathless than running from a homicidal monster. “You're alright.” He sighs against your lips, eyes tightly closed as he places his warm forehead against yours. His thumbs caress the corner of your eyes, all the while pecking each side of your cheeks. “We made it out, love.”

You kiss him just under his eyes, gathering the tears stuck in his lashes. “We made it. But we're not out yet, Hobie.”

He moves away, hands still on your face. Scanning the room, he finds rows upon rows of beds in one corner. And in the other sits a communal area of sorts with a couch, a full bookshelf, and a control panel that could reach out to potential rescue outside the ship with limited coverage around the ship. The vents are separated from the rest of the ship's ventilation, hence the creature couldn't come in without getting ripped to shreds by the numerous blades it has to pass through. Just as he thought, there's enough food and water that could keep the two of you alive for at least two years. But since it's just the two of you, it could last five years.

You stand up, eyes forlorn at the whole place. Your vision still warbles in the same kaleidoscope of light, as if the creature is right outside just lying in waiting. His hand holds your own, fingers weaving through yours, as he opens his arm for you to fall into.

“Someone will come through, I know it.” He whispers against the top of your head, pecking it once before sighing, hand rubbing up and down your arm as he holds you.

“I know, we made it this far. We'll get out.” Someday.

You try not to think about what lies outside the room, your friends bodies will continue to decay, the creature still lingering just outside. You're trapped.

Head laying on his shoulder, there's still embers of hope in you. That someone could find the ship and potentially rescue you, or with some luck, the creature's biological clock would run out before you and Hobie run out of food.

At least you're alive and together, right?

[aft3rhrs]

Okay, after putting everything together... So far we have:

Step!brother Taehyung being a good handyman and filling up the hole in the wall of his sister's room ✊ (😭😭😭)

Step!dad Jungkook who just wants to be addressed appropriately 😩

Step!uncle Jungkook (dead dove)

Demon!Hobi — monster under the bed au (dead dove)

Vampire!Namjoon (dead dove)

Werewolf!Seokjin — where humans are the pets (dead dove)

Step!son Taehyung (dead dove)

Best friend!Jimin taking good care of the hammered reader after a night out

Priest!Yoongi (dead dove)

Boyfriend!Jungkook ft fear kink

Poly!AU, Jimin and JK, Companionship — alternate ending

These are all my wips, and I'm kind of skipping in between more ideas too ahsjdjshsjw

[xmurw]

little miles: there's a monster under my bed

hobie: there aren't any monst- Oh MY GOD, HE BIT MY HAND

hobie: just kidding, he only eats kids, good night

[sfwsniffles]

NoirPunk Tickles

Ler!Noir, Lee!Hobie; I've had these two on the mind all damn day, so here.

Peter and Hobie love cuddling in bed before they go to sleep. The only problem with this is that Peter's investigative journalism work requires him to be up at an hour that has been described by Hobie "I hate the AM" Brown as "too-damn-early-o'clock," in order to start work.

Hobie has subsequently decided to make this process as difficult as possible, by wrapping his arms around Peter's waist and burying his face in his shoulder, pleading with him to stay in bed with him for "five more minutes." This is a trap. He does not want five more minutes, he wants to stay in bed all day, and Peter knows this, and will not entertain his antics no matter how inticing his cuddles are.

They do this dance almost every morning, with Peter continuously trying to explain to a very stubborn and extremely sleepy Hobie that no, he cannot stay in bed with him for another five minutes, he needs to go to work, which is usually met with a rant about capitalism and how corporations are doing everything in their power to suck the average person dry of every hour of their free time unecessarily.

Peter's just trying to push him off of him, when his hand brushes against Hobie's hip, and he lets out a small giggle, practically dropping back onto him.

Peter grins, he's found his escape.

He gently skitters his fingers across Hobie's hips, and sure enough, he goes from small chuckles to hysterical laughter in a matter of seconds.

Eventually, Hobie gets so caught up in his own giggles, and trying to fend Peter off, that he doesn't even notice that he's managed to get out from under him. Once he's been released from his tickle monster of a boyfriend he catches his breath and realizes that Peter's no longer on the bed, and is instead getting dressed for work.

"Oi, that's not fair!" He sits back up, indignant.

Peter just laughs, planting a kiss on his cheek, going for his hips again when he tries to pull him back down, before heading out the door.

"See you when I'm off, doll."

Hobie gets his revenge when Peter comes back home though. Turns out he's also ticklish.

[eyesxxyou]

I’ll resend then!

I bet monster hobie is animalistic in the bedroom. Growling, grunting, scratching at your skin leaving markings that’ll still be there in the morning while he claims you repeatedly in the night -🐈‍⬛

He totally is. You could say he’s a monster about it. He corners you, has you just where he wants you. He fucks you in the darkest corner of the room where she has the most energy to feed off of. His eyes glow bright and for a moment, you think you can see canines, fangs. His claws are sharp, digging into your skin as he holds you up with ease. His shadows hold your wrists against the wall, helps him keep you still as he fucks you in a rather feral manner.

You don't know if his species go through a mating season but it’s like clockwork every couple of months he gets like this. Rougher, more demanding, a bit more monstrous. He claims he needs you through growls, that he’d be nothing but a shadow without you.

He has you cumming on his fat cock that can't even fit inside you all the way, not without leaving you bedridden for days on end and sore beyond belief. He abuses your poor cunt without mercy. You’re crying, trying to close your legs but his shadows are wrapped so lovingly around your thighs, prying them apart with an inhuman amount of strength.

“Jus’ take i’.” He licks a salty teardrop from the round of your cheek. “‘m almos’ done wit’cha.” He lied. He lied straight through his fanged teeth. It was only 3 in the morning and the sun wouldn't rise for another 6 hours.

You shuddered with another orgasm.It might be 7 or 8, you had lost count. He fucked every thought from your mind that wasn't him and the intrusion of his cock inside your wanton pussy. You were dripping, creaming on his length, a puddle forming on the floor below you. You had squirted all over him.

“Gooood boy.” Hobie chuckles, one of his shadows playing with your clit. He kisses the sweet spot between your neck and your shoulder, teeth grazing with the subtle threat to bite.

Fucking like this reminds you that Hobie isn't a human, he’s something entirely different. He doesn't offer a human kind of kindness, he fucks you like this without pause or mercy. He fucks you like this until the sun comes up.

[hyperfixationhobo]

Brainrot truly is something I’ll say that.

More Mayday and protective Hobie!!!

Hobie totally sings and plays the punk rock versions of songs that she likes. Like image she becomes obsessed with like Frozen and loves the song Let it Go and Hobie just makes a cover of it to play for her. And she absolutely loves it to the point it’s the only one she’ll listen to so Peter has Hobie make like a playlist of the songs he’s made for Mayday.

The only exception is when Hobie sings a special lullaby just for Mayday. And that lullaby is most definitely “The Monster Underneath Your Bed” by Madame Macabre. Hobie most certainly sings that song for her when she’s has nightmares or is scared of the dark. He casually tells her that he would easily beat off any monster in her closet and throw out the monster under her bed. Just softly singing to her about how she has nothing to worry about when he’s near cause he’ll happily beat up the Grimm Reaper if it ever comes to it.

You bet your beans he will go as far as to sleep right next to her crib so she feels safer, no matter how much his back will hurt the following morning.

Peter has walked in on Hobie slouched over on the floor passed out next to Mayday’s crib with one of his fingers wrapped in her hand and in his other hand he’s barley holding a broom to use as a weapon if need be.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt. 56)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: In the wake of Namjoon’s rut you and Hobi try to get yourself back on even footing, if only his co workers weren’t so...creepy towards you. 

Tags: Depression, anxiety, ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, excessive babying, courting, omegaspace, mommy kink, Mommy! Tae, nipple play, m/c sucks on tae’s tits for mental health reasons, Non-detailed sexual content, mentioned omegaspace sex, discussions of past abuse, discussions of mental health issues, eating disorder recovery, implied self-harm

W/c: 9.7k

A/N:��LISTEN, i know the nipple play stuff might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it reads very comforting if you’re willing to give it a chance. That being said it may go further into the realm of mommy kink than some of you are willing to go and toes the line into extreme kink as it highly sexualizes Tae’s brests and the m/c in omegaspace. It's not really nursing per say cuz there isn’t any milk involved, but the m/c does suck on tae’s breasts to soothe herself.  

I tried to make it as ‘skippable’ as possible it’s under the section ‘Tae, sometime at night’  I firmly encourage you to skip it if you feel the need too.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

(16 days post rut. The day after Halloween, Yoongi)

Yoongi lets out an inhuman screech. 

He’s holding his sweater in his hands, nude from the waist up interrupted by his changing. Staring at you open-mouthed while Jungkook rolls in the remnants of your nest. Remnants- because you honestly hadn't put it together much after Namjoon's rut. 

You’ve been spending the last few weeks slowly bringing everything upstairs, alternating between sleeping spots, not a single one of them still feels right.  The pack had kept their mattress in the living room, but yours they'd moved back. Last night you spent your first night upstairs with Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae. Four pups all cute and nesty with the rest of the Halloween candy between the three of you in multicolored bowls. 

Yoongi had gotten to watch as you all giggled and completely abused the projector he’d installed for a movie night of the Addams family and some horror movie that you'd changed in the first 15 minutes. 

There are more and more moments where he gets to appreciate his hard work these days and he savors them whenever he can. He’d been a little worried that the bed would be too big or too small but it looks just the right size. Just enough space for the others. 

After you’d fallen asleep, he’d carefully tiptoed around you and removed the bowls of candy, kissing each of your heads like a special spell to guard your dreams against monsters and cousin it. 

Now Jungkook grins up from the last little bit of the nest that’s still down here, hugging a pillow to his chest, “I knew something happened.” It’s not often Yoongi squeaks, like a cat suddenly picked up, heart all in a tizzy just thinking about it.

“What do you mean you and Hobi kissed? And you didn’t tell me!?”

You go red ear to ear, “It wasn’t-I don’t even think he meant to do it- it wasn’t like a kiss kiss-“

“Ahh,” Jungkook drags out the syllable. Reaching for your hand and tugging you to sit. Closer, because Jungkook’s wandering fingers have half a mind of their own. You look so good- have been honestly glowing a bit since Namjoon’s rut, something about the health of you that makes him want to touch more and more. 

His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs appreciatively and you squirm away, “Heat of-the-moment kisses are so hot- not to mention first kisses.”

Yoongi sits on the edge of the bed. Knees pulled together. “Tell me everything.”

Yoongi has always been terribly involved in your dating life in the beginning you'd gushed to him about every new kiss. The ones with Jk, a memory now as he drags his mouth up your waist, resting his cheek against the curve of your hips and smiling up at you. The one with Tae in that dressing room, your first soft moments with Jin and Namjoon. Everything. The fact that he hadn't heard about this one immediately after the fact stings only a little,

The rest is clouded over with excitement.  

Hobi had initiated kisses. He’d been the one to break first.  

Yoongi remembers how their relationship began with coyly phrased jabs said over dusty records not long after he'd broken up with his last pack and moved in. When they’d gone from best friends to sort of roommates and started spending almost every minute together. 

Yoongi liked Hoseok. Just liked him. Liked seeing him smile. Heart skipping beats and saving them for him. Spending hours standing just far enough apart with some sleazy jazz playing over the loudspeakers and Hobi’s lips all mischievous. Their first kiss hanging there, on the edge, just where Yoongi could see it but not have it just yet. Teasing him endlessly. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me Hoseok," 

"You'll know when I'm flirting hyung." 

Hobi had turned off the jazz and turned on Yoongi’s favorite music instead and Yoongi had been substantially wooed just by that. 

Hobi had been shy with the rest of the pack. Freer with Yoongi he said, because he always knew where he stood with him. Not like with the other alphas where Hobi had to worry about showing his throat or not- or Jungkook and Jin- where he had to worry if he has too dominant or not dominant enough. Their firsts had felt truly new, untied of expectations. Just loving. None of the other stuff. 

Sometimes, Hobi still feels this way. 

Now Yoongi watches you and knows how it feels, the way your eyelashes flutter as you look down and away, flopping back against the nest scent going sweet with the memory of it. "I bet it was so hot-" Koo chimes kicking his feet when he rolls onto his tummy and continues to pinch at your thighs, hand sliding up gradually under your baggy pajama shorts. Tickling the hairs there.

 "Hobi’s such a good kisser too-“ The omega swoons and your belly swoops at the sound. 

Yoongi licks his lips, trying not to think of it.

"It wasn't hot, it wasn't anything-" But the blush on your cheeks tells a different story. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "I shouldn't have said anything." Yoongi gently pries your hands away from your face. His heart is racing a mile a minute like it's his first kiss and not yours. 

"Even if it was something, I’d still be happy sweetheart.” 

You bite your cheek; I just want to know if he regrets it. “I can’t ask him about it or I’ll make it weird.” You whine.

Jungkook’s fingers press into your chin, he looks awfully devilish, hair damp from a shower, his classes for the day passed. “You’ve been thinking about it a lot. That’s why you’ve been so quiet.”

You flush, but not for the reason he thinks. 

The truth is you’ve been spending a lot more time on your own these days, painting the back-room space and finding excuses to head upstairs when everyone’s home, or downstairs when everyone goes up. There’s no reason. You tell yourself there’s no reason but-

Sometimes it’s hard, being sad without a cause. A gnawing emptiness like there's no point in enjoying anything anyways when sooner or later the rug will be yanked out from underneath you. A sense of a foreshortened future. An end that is simultaneously ridiculous to consider and yet nearby like a shadow in the corner of your eye that isn't there- not really. 

Maybe it would be easier if you and Yoongi weren’t mated yet, and you’d have had that to look forward to. You’ve been thinking about mating marks a lot recently. Spending long hours looking at yours in the mirror, fingers hovering over the glass when you pull back blocking out parts of it with your fingertips. The parts that Geumjae left that you’ll never be able to quite get rid of. 

You asked Jin about his and Namjoon’s the other day- but the omega had only sighed and told you not to worry about it.  

You eagerly snap up the excuse handed to you now. It's better having them assume than explaining the real reason to them. For the most part, they believe you. Like there isn’t that taught line of something running through you like the very essence of you wants to snap. A discomfort at being happy.

A feeling like maybe, you don't deserve it.

If there is anything you deserve it’s certainly not Hobi’s smile when he comes home and asks you if you’ll help him move a few more plants in from outside. “You’ve got a good eye” he tells you. “I swear without you and Tae this place would look like a bachelor pad”

Hobi hasn’t been avoiding you since the rut but maybe it would be easier if he was.

He’s no less likely to ask you for late-night car rides, no less likely to bump shoulders with you playfully over dishes or offer you his headphone when he found you dozing two nights ago on the outdoor furniture. Your big blue blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders to keep out the fall chill. 

He’d even accepted you when you held back the edge for him to get under. The warmth from his body trapped by it and transferred to yours as you talked. Mostly about Hobi’s job; his plans to leave early and help manage a specialty order from the city; nearly three thousand burgundy roses for a fall wedding. 

“How do you even fit that many into a car?”

“Very, very carefully”  

Last night as the pack had handed out Halloween candy, He’d been giggly and close. Eager to pick your favorite candy out of the bowl of bulk-bought candy bars and set them aside for you. He’d even given you a pair of little devil ears, similar to the halo on Tae’s head, a vision in a light pink dress that she’d been just itching to wear. The only one truly dressed up, the only one with the energy to go all out.

The fabric was soft and silky with cutouts for her body, which had you looping your hands around her waist at every available opportunity and maybe kissing places hidden when you’d helped her undress later, hands sneaking underneath the fabric just to touch. 

No one had time to plan their outfits or decorate the house because of Namjoon’s rut. You improvised with eyeliner lined and drawn whiskers on Yoongi’s cheeks, grumbling half-heartedly as Tae dotted his nose with bright pink blush and attached a pair of cat ears to his head. 

The one person who hadn’t escaped Hobi’s costumes was Noddle, hissy in his little black and yellow bee costume, you’d given him tuna as a special treat. The neighborhood kids had ooohd and ahhed at him in the window, grumpily guarding your house from any intruders. 

It’s funny, noodle only hisses at the people dressed up as other cats. 

Independent from your musings, your packmates hover on the edge of the bed. “who says you can’t ask him? Just talk to him-“ Yoongi tries to convince you.

"We can ask him for you!" Both of them pop up, their eyes all wide, matching black heads all fuzzy, your mate bobs his head, the picture of polite eagerness.

"Oh fuck no- You'll do no such thing-" 

“Come on, let us play matchmaker with you."

A loud ring interrupts your conversation, coming from deep within the confines of your nest. It’s Yoongi's phone- discarded. Jungkook grins as he answers for him, smirking all the while. 

"Hyung! We were just talking about you- No it's fine, Joonie forgot his lunch too-" Jungkook playfully shoves away Yoongi’s hand reaching for his phone. He pauses as Hobi says something on the other line. 

Jungkook’s grin is nothing if not scheming. 

"Yoongi's busy right now," he licks his lips, eyes on you. Yoongi is certainly not busy, the only thing he had planned for today was bringing Namjoon his lunch, another stop is hardly too much.  

"But Y/n's free, I’ll have her drop it off. Bye, hyung. Love you too hyung."  

~-~

Hobi is drawn to the front room of the flower shop because it’s his break time, someone forgot the last box of roses out back, and also because one of his coworkers is shouting again. 

It's a semi-normal occurrence by any standard of measurement, but still, the sound of his shrill voice shouting in protest is just as grating as the feeling of dirt under Hobi’s fingernails. 

They're sensitive and pricked too, he's spent the better part of the morning prepping the red roses, bundles, and bundles of them. The last one 

He pauses, ignoring the commotion for as long as he can to take a sip of water, The cold drips down his throat, soothing the heat there.  It might be cold at night but the lot out back is still unforgiving in the autumn sunlight, the occasional breeze telling stories of knit blankets and cozy sweatpants that Hobi will need within the month. He can’t wait for it to get colder. 

The flower shop is structured in layers. The breakroom with the cubbies, a dilapidated old fridge, and a small table directly off the lot. A narrow hallway connects it first to the stock room and then to the counter and the retail space out front. The commotion comes from the stock room. The sound of a box falling over with a loud clang and then the softer sound of people arguing in hushed tones. 

Three of his coworkers- two of which are the same ones who don't like him- shove each other to get through the door. One holding around the other middle.

"No, I've got this one-" Hobi stoops to pick up a roll of orange-red ribbon, half unrolled on the dusty floor. 

"Come on- I took the granny for you this morning you owe me-"

"You're an omega, Felix."

"So? Like being a horndog is a uniquely alpha affliction?"

"Too late!" The third one darts through the door. Unencumbered by the other's scuffle. Tossing a kiss over his shoulder at the other two. Their frustrated groans resounding a hissed whisper. "Chan! You've already got an omega you don't need two-”

At his appearance, both of his coworkers straighten up. "What’s all the fuss about?" he asks with a tired sigh. Not that he really wants to make conversation with them about what client they're thirsting over this week. Hobi has never joined in with them, their near-running commentary on who comes into the shop. 

“A pretty client.” It's nothing new, but what is new is the way that Hyunjin rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"Pretty is not a word reserved for the hottest omega I’ve seen this year- she looks like Kate Moss and Zendaya had a love child with an angel-" he swoons, Hobi sighs and pushes through them to put the ribbon back on its holder. They probably knocked it off in their scuffle, his two coworkers practically fall through the door after him.

Hobi blinks.

It's just you, standing in the doorway looking at the hanging epiphytes and other little suncatchers that hand in the flower shop windows. You’re wearing one of Tae's big sweaters that fall to your upper thigh and a pair of semi-translucent leggings. When your hands go up to touch a suncatcher Hobi can tell you’re wearing shorts underneath, but the implication that you might be not is still there. There’s A little bit of flour on your front from whatever you were baking today. 

The first thing he notices is a band-aid on your finger. 

His sleazy coworker lays it on thick, leaning over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. You don’t seem to realize that he’s snuck up on you. Hobi watches as you flinch and step back, clutching a small pink package to your chest. Turning around quick. 

Hobi swallows back a growl. Instincts grating.

"Can I help you find anything beautiful?” he drawls, casting you a dazzling grin that Hobi's sure has gotten him many first date. 

"I was just-" Hobi drops a bouquet of roses into a nearby bucket with a loud thud. Your eyes shoot up, and Hobi sees the visceral way your shoulders relax, the way you instantly brighten.

"Hey! I got your lunch." 

Hobi's coworkers splutter. Gazes darting between you and Hobi like they can’t make sense of it. “What?!" One of them hits him on the shoulder playfully like they're friends and Hobi's jaw ticks. "Yeah, Hobi what the fuck-" 

Hobi's fingers are still on the roses as he looks at you, he doesn't tear his eyes away for a second, "She's my newest packmate," they've got a good sense to be embarrassed to try and recoup the situation.

“Oh- we didn't think Hobi could have such pretty packmates."

Oh, you don't like that one bit. 

Your switch flips, Hobi sees you make the conscious decision to turn on the part of yourself that can be very charming, that makes his alpha ask ‘how high?’ if you even think about asking him to jump. You're very good at playing this game, encouraging their instincts out in just a few words. 

You step closer looping your arm through Hobi's (He swears he won't be thinking about it later, how you push your body up against his just so, the faint warmth of your chest surrounding his upper arm, your fingers weakly tangling through his) You tilt your mating mark into the light so that they see it. tucking your hair behind your ear like you’re shy.  your sleeve falls down, leaving your scent gland open to the bear air. 

"You've obviously never met Jin then.” You pout up at him in mock distress, making it as cute as possible. “but- I would have thought he'd have told you all about me what with the car I gave him." 

Hobi doesn’t believe your sudden sniffle for a second even though his face heats. And renewed incredulity hits their faces, near devastation that their written-off coworker has a packmate like this. 

You blink back faux tears, “Did you not like it?” there is nothing cuter than a pretty pouty omega near crying because they think they've disappointed their alpha. Nothing that tugs on their instincts quite like this. 

The men blink dumbly. This creature- is surely representative of another life, one that they hadn’t imagined for their coworker. Surely when they called Hobi a sugar baby, this isn’t what they had in mind.

"He talks about it so much!"

"I swear everyone slows down when they see it which is why the boss lets him park it out front." 

"It's a really pretty car like really pretty," Felix says, eyes definitely not on your face but oh well.

Hobi grasps his little lunchbox hard, wrapped up in one of Tae's pink patterned silk scarves. Too intimidated to respond. You have them wrapped around your fingers in just a few words.

"Show me the flowers?" you offer, clearly done conversing with them, Hobi takes the easy out without a look in his coworkers’ direction.

The slick of the refrigerator doors slides close, blocking out the three of them clearly peering in. Your closeness is disguised by the condensation on the glass. Let them think something more of the way you stand close. 

The mask falls in a second and where one moment you’d looked forcefully cute, the next, you just look tired. 

"You're a menace." 

You huff, wrapping your arms around your waist. "Only when I need to be"

"You didn't have to do that." He says because he doesn't know exactly what to say. How to express that he’s thankful without making it weird. Now that you've stepped away from the others there’s something vaguely wilted about you, something still. He’s noticed the last few days, since Namjoon’s rut if he’s being honest. 

The truth is, nothing's been normal after Namjoon's rut. 

The first day after Namjoon’s rut you’d avoided each other's company like the plague, fielding Namjoon’s numerous apologies and in general clingy behavior. But after a day or two you'd reached an unspoken agreement to just forget everything that had happened just like Jimin and Tae. 

(That's a lie. Jimin and Tae have slept on opposite sides of every bed they've slept in in the last week.)

Hobi’s not sure why he thinks that there's something wrong, why he finds himself watching you and waiting. Measuring your plate at dinner for maybe the first time in weeks. Watching you when you cook, just…. keeping an eye on you in a way he might not have before. 

Is it just him, or have you seemed less interested in cuddling and nesting as usual? There's something in you that just wants to get the nest in the upstairs over and done with and back to normal. Hobi had watched while he'd helped bring the countless blankets up there, every one of your movements rehearsed and perfunctory. 

And yesterday, he’d walked into your room (your old room he should call it) And found you and Yoongi deep in conversation, sitting on the edge of your bed. And when Hobi had asked Yoongi had just said, “We’re gonna keep the nest in here for a few more days.” You'd ended up turning your bed around and tucking it into the wall by your dresser, making room for Tae's makeup desk. 

At first, He thought that maybe he’d hurt you with his leaving. That you took it as an ultimate rejection of not only your friendship but your presence in the pack. But it seems like you’re as determined as he is to keep things as they were before. To act as though your relationship is just as it was. Just this. packmates that bring each other lunch and give each other cars and definitely step closer to make Hobi's nosey coworkers a little jealous. 

Strange. All of it feels strange like deja vu. There’s a familiar stillness that he hasn’t seen in you in months really, not since late spring. Since before you started talking again only this time he's seeing the process in reverse. 

You tap the lunch box with your fingertips, a faint flush coming to your cheeks, “Yoongi made it for you, not me.” 

“Does it matter?” you flush harder, skin heating under his raised eyebrow, 

“Yes.”

Hobi thinks your hands might be shaking a little bit when you gesture to the shelves piled high with flowers and buckets. "Which ones are your favorite anyway?" you ask, classic misdirection. 

A few weeks ago Hobi had convinced his boss to order the flowers by color and not type to make arranging and picking out designs easier. Granted, Hobi is her most talented employee and the one she trusts most to handle their big-budget items like weddings and funerals so it was a relatively short argument. 

This refrigerator is a mess of cream pinks, whites, and yellows. The big dinner plate-sized sunflowers hovering around your knees, and the dusty roses at the ceiling. 

He points at the simple daisies, is it just his imagination, or do you make your giggle just a little bit louder, leaning into his arm. Hobi swears one of his coworkers is going to burst a blood vessel with how hard he's trying to contain his screech of indignation. You just grin and roll your eyes. 

“Are you trying to make my life easier or harder?” He can’t stop his smile though, no matter how much he wants to. 

“A bit of both probably.” You lean in close, the way an omega would to an alpha they were flirting with. Let them wonder what we’re saying, let them wonder what I mean by this. Your fingers dance over a nearby bucket, skimming the velvet soft blooms, “I would have pinned you for a Lily type of guy." 

Hobi fingers one of the long stems, playing with it too. "Nah, these are Jungkook’s favorite, not mine." Hobi's shy when it comes to you, but still, he musters up the courage to take a spare bloom of daisy and tuck it behind your ear.

"As a thank you, for my lunch. Jungkook shouldn’t have made you come all the way here." 

You shrug, "It’s no big deal. I- ugh- i put a few chocolates in there, the coconut ones." You might have noticed Hobi grabbing some last night, and he gravitated toward those in the big bowl of Halloween candy. Seeking out the little blue packages. 

"I like those," he says, but you already know that.

There’s a loud crash, and when you look back Hobi’s coworkers have knocked one of the dysplays over in their quest for a better vantage point. they scramble to put it back together and look busy like they weren’t watching you.

Chan gives him a thumbs up and Hobi scoffs. 

“I’m sorry for them.” He says, “They’re kind of always like this,” his jaw ticks. Some alphas have no manners. 

You shrug, “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Are those the same ones that say shit about you behind your back?” 

“Yes.” 

You hesitate for a moment, standing toe to toe with him. “We should give them something else to talk about then.” Hobi’s hands are hard on the lunch box. 

You step closer. Your worn boots brushing his sneakers as you lean up on your tippy toes. The scent mark looks more intimate that it is as you lightly drag your cheek down Hobi's neck. You know how to make it look sensual. 

His caramel scent and your baked one together smell like flan or maybe something vaguely that belongs in the family of a Snickers bar, sparking hot and heady. Filling the refrigerator with it and the smell of flowers. He catches your waist, alarmed but not entirely displeased.

It has the desired effect.

Hobi sees the other alphas, the way their egos deflate. Tail tucked between their legs. Immediately looking dejected. Hobi barely has time to process your hand threading through the hair at the back of his neck, the way you sway closer before you're darting away. 

He catches you just before you pass back through the refrigerator doors (you should know better than to run from an alpha, there's hardly anything more exciting than the prospect of a chase). A real giggle fills the small space making the other 3 perk up. Hobi can’t stop himself from smiling even if he feels a little dizzy. 

He catches your hand, tugging you a little bit back. “Hang out with me? Later?”

The stillness in you eases just a little, and your smile is twice as bright as the sunflowers. “Sure.”

He lets your hand go even though he doesn't want to, even though you could eat together. He imagines it; sitting in his car, Yoongi’s parked out front, you in his passenger seat having a few of those chocolates. But you have no reason to stay and keep him company through his lunch break.’

Hobi is too shy to ask. 

Before you pass through the door you pause, looking at the suncatchers that hang by the windows again. Reaching out a finger to touch one so that rainbows swirl through the room. The sun's light misdirected to spill and swirl in a dizzying display of color. The door clangs closed with a faint jingle. 

He sets his hand over the back of his hot neck. Heart thundering, something in his instincts relaxes by having you out the door and away from his other...competitors. They instantly descend on him, badgering him with countless questions. 

“I didn’t know you could pull like that hyung," "How did you even meet?" does she have a sister?" "Does she have a favorite type of nesting supplies?” 

Hobi shoots that last one a glare. "I think she's got everything she needs in that department." he says tightly. 

He’d have thought your mating mark would be enough of a deterrent. The fact that it isn’t makes him even more annoyed if that's possible. They don’t get a single answer out of him- just the freezer door closed and locked in their faces. He sits there to eat his lunch, glaring at them through the foggy doors. 

When he opens his lunchbox, he sees that you've shoved 7 chocolates into a space that should only logically fit 5. Rows of sliced meat and a dollop of sauce over rice in the shape of a heart. A sandwich just the way he likes it, cut-up fruit too, probably a whole pint of Strawberries cut into little hearts. 

(The other alphas don't stand a chance.) 

~-~

(Tae, Some time later) 

Autumn brings with it lazy nights and the need for more blankets. You often find yourself curled up on the couch in Tae's room. Alternating between watching the autumn rain drip from the eves, going on tic-tock, napping, and watching Tae work at her desk. Sometimes on work nights, she's got her hair set into little pin curls, or a face mask on.

It's kind of silly that you can spend just hours watching her but you are that in love.

Her typing is gentle, a companion to the pitter-patter of the rain and the tv in the other room. Someone talking, someone showering, the faint thump thump thump of your heart, noodle meowing to be let in from outside, homey domestic and Awfully lonely.

It’s silly, you shouldn’t feel alone with Tae right there.

You stir sometimes, stretching your feet out and yawning. Cheek resting on the pillow.  "I can shut the light if you want" Tae says, recognizing the feeling like she's being watched. She doesn’t turn because she knows it's you.

"No, I'm not tired" but the slow rising of your chest says something different. You've let the blanket slip off of you a little bit, folding your body onto her small couch fitting just barely. She rolls herself over to you to fix it and tuck it around your feet. Then goes back to writing.

"You've been typing one thing for a long time now”

Tae hums, agreeing. Pausing for a second and going back to delete one sentence and replacing it with another before her cursor moves on stepping in time with the clack of her fingers. She's gone with a shorter manicure this time to make typing easier, smooth little almonds that flash like fish scales. Pretty and pearlescent.

“You were writing the same thing yesterday and the day before that too. Is it a story?" you ask. Tae likes how you always ask that first, is it a story or a poem, by stanza or by prose. Which part of your soul are you working on today? is it more comfort or a bit of hurt?

Her fingers hesitate, "it is." She admits. “I’ve got like, maybe 30,000 words of it written already but yeah, it’s a story.”

“You don't write stories often."

she tips her head in agreement. "What could I add to the world you know? there are so many good books out there," she sighs heavily, "But-" she trails off, eyes full of faraway faces and a love that maybe feels a little bit like yours and Hobi’s. She always was better at catharizing her emotions about their relationships by comparing them to others. Namjoon and Jin are all Claire and Jamie. Yoongi and Hobi Westley and Buttercup.

But You and Hobi are something different. Maybe she took hobi's advice and found another outlet for her feelings about you two rather than get involved. then again, the main male character is actually a lot more like jungkook sometimes when he speaks. 

Bits and pieces of Tae’s loves and muses are all over the story, but the main character? She’s all you. 

"What's different about this one?" You ask, hair spilling over your shoulders in an uninterrupted tangle that has Tae itching for a brush. You'd tried her pin curls out a few nights ago but had complained about the pinching so Tae quiets the part of herself that wants to use you as her own mini dress-up doll.

"Usually my emotions are brief, but" she presses her palm to her chest, "I have all this pain here. All of this pain and all of these thoughts and I don't think I know what to do with it besides write it down." You pull yourself up and closer to her, phone slipping out of your lap and sliding onto the carpeted floor. But Tae’s smile is already comforting even if it is a little sad.

She wheels herself over again and presses her lips to yours, your needy fingers almost instantly find her waist, the way you grab at her when you want to cuddle. Tae knows your body language so well.

"It’s not something you can make better darling," she says, and she means it, the way she looks at you means she means it. "But I think- I think giving it to other people might make it better, a little."

You lean your cheek into her palm, sleepily sighing. "What’s it about?"

Tae launches into the beginning, and the rest is history. She talks about her own story the same way that she talks about the books she reads. Fast and excited, like it's right there in front of her eyes on a movie screen.

“It starts with a library- only it’s not like a normal library. This library is kind of magic-”

~-~

(Namjoon, 7 days after rut) 

In the wake of Namjoon's rut, all of the alphas have been feeling their instincts a little more keenly; this has expressed itself in only one behavior one that you didn't think you'd see the return of after it had sort of calmed down at the beginning of your relationship. 

You don’t know how to feel about the fresh return of the courting presents. 

But with the nest upstairs, you suppose that you don't mind the veritable collection of new nesting pillows, blankets, and specially made Egyptian cotton sheets for your Alaskan king-sized mattress- courtesy of Jimin. In a variety of colors of course; black for his preference, and pink for Tae’s. 

Namjoon doesn't like being one-upped by anyone. Although his gift takes several more days to arrive and set up. (Yoongi stayed up the night before with Namjoon to help set it up because Namjoon is notoriously bad about any sort of home improvement let alone when there's an Allen wrench and six pages of instructions involved)

You giggle as Namjoon's fingers tamp over your eyes. He almost steps on the back of your heels with how close you're walking. "Here, there's a wall" You reach out and help him lead you so that the surprise isn't spoiled.  Bright shafts of light slip through his fingers. 

"Joonie-"

"Here, step down- there you go pup. Here-"

Namjoon takes his hands from your eyes and resists the urge to bounce up and down, your wide blinks, your suddenly sweet scent all of it, soothing to the cloying discomfort of instincts not expressed in his chest. Lips parted into a cute little oh. 

You're in the backroom, the last coat of paint was finished yesterday and the pack has gone to work putting it together with the new velvet green couch and many of Hobi's plants. But what you don't expect is the item just left of the door. 

The nesting couch, or more correctly nesting pod has high walls that peak at the top somewhat like an onion. The interior of it is upholstered with smooth non-irritating fabric and a thick cushion at the base and up part of the walls. a soft little bowl almost like a human-sized dog bed (a pup bed). 

A small dark soft space, perfect for nesting. With a little curtain that you can zip closed, that should enswathe you entirely in darkness. The interior of it is Piled high with a new duvet and more than a dozen new pillows (all freshly scented) like a bowl of colorful candies. Some of them are vaguely stuffed animal shaped and a few actually are stuffed animals.

You blink down at the croissant and the cake, the disembodied blueberry. 

“Jungkook might have helped me pick them out, he went a little over the top.” Namjoon rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s rut or a” he coughs, “first knotting present, I guess. As a thank you and an I’m sorry for biting you present.” Namjoon shifts back and forth, feeling vaguely nauseous but in a love-sick sort of way. “Do you like it?”

Nesting nooks are expensive gifts, this one alone must have been several thousand dollars. Although Namjoon's anxiety ticks higher as you continue to not say anything. Staring at it and blinking like you can’t believe it’s there. “I thought you could maybe, use a bit of space because of the upstairs, I know you’re used to nesting on your own.” Yoongi had told him about your need to keep your downstairs nest still set up. You know the second the sentence slips past his lips that they've talked about it, that Namjoon’s worried. 

It's nothing personal you just, you feel like you might need a little spot, like Tae does for her library room, a little spot that's just yours. A spot for you to be quiet

And Namjoon's just given you it. 

Your mouth twists and Namjoon tilts your jaw up to his so that he can duck in close and nose along your hairline. "Hey I didn't mean-" 

You take the nearest cushion and crush it to your chest, this one the shape of a graham cracker. "I love it." Your gaze darts away, heart in your throat. "Can I? Try it out?" 

Namjoon steps aside hastily, watching as you ease inside it. Pulling yourself into the dark cavern. it’s soft and comfy. protected in a way that has you instantly feeling hazy. Quiet and mostly scentless, the noises from outside Dampened, the feeling of everything butter soft beneath your fingers. 

It's so safe here. 

You start to knead a pillow, softly, the way that noodle might. Flopping over onto your side. Back against the cushion wall. Rolling a little in it. And a slow purring slowly fills the room, soft and first, and then stronger. You rub your scent across the border, making it smell like yours. 

Namjoon drops to his knees and watches you. when he sticks out his hand you nuzzle into it, cheeks pink, scent omegaspace sweet. you chirp happily and he smiles down at you. 

“There you go pup.”

~-~

(Tae, sometime at night)

(Content warning)

Namjoon isn’t the only one who's gotten you courting gifts recently. 

Tae presents yours to you with pink cheeks, the small rectangle pretty when you unwrap it, green warn fabric, and embroidery on the cover.

It’s a copy of Alice and Wonderland, delicately illustrated with watercolor splotches of characters on every other page. It smells like vanilla the way that Jimin smells like vanilla, the musk of it soft and smooth. 

The next time you get small and pupish Tae reads to you, her soft voice lulling you into a softer, smaller headspace. So fuzzy that you can’t feel your toes, mind dumbly repeating ‘mommy, mommy mommy’ with little else on your mind. 

Page after page of pictures that your wide eyes follow without so much as a word, small whines when Tae pauses to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet tell her everything she needs to know about if it had been a good decision or not. the right gift. 

Tae is the only alpha in the pack that can give you this, who can trigger omegaspace in you with as little as a raised eyebrow. 

She has a fantastic reading voice. She and makes the voices of the white rabbit and the mad hare just funny enough to have you huffing soft giggly purrs. 

It's not the last book she gets you. Far from it, over the next few weeks, you quickly fall into a routine: after dinner, she’ll find you in the nesting nook, in your room, or in the bathroom washing up. And she’ll pull you in the direction of the library room and produce another wrapped volume. Some of them illustrated and some not.

You’ll curl up together on the couch, one ear pressed to her heartbeat, another that inches to hear her words and a soft croons. Her hair tickling your forehead where it lingers, just around her shoulders. Grown out now and faster since she started to use a fancy hair serum. 

There are other, slightly more scandalous times, when you squirm at certain parts, unable to find a properly soothed position. When you turn to nuzzle into her shoulder. Nosing along her collarbones and searching for something that makes Tae’s chest tight in all the best ways. Bright eyes glassy, too shy to ask for what you wanted.

What you needed.

The first time you’d face planted into her chest into her barely there but steadily growing tits. She’d laughed, the skin there new feeling and vaguely sensitive. Little white stretch marks shine like a silver lining over the hem of her lace top. 

“You looking for something pup?” she’d teased, she wasn’t necessarily surprised after all, you hadn’t been looking at the book for a few minutes, watching her soft inhale and exhale. The faint imprint of her nipples under the shirt. 

“Can- can I” you’d stuttered, words too hard for you to string together, looking down at Tae’s chest, fingers bunching up the fabric of her dove-colored night dress.  

Being in omegaspace is easier than being totally up these days. Tae knows you need this, without saying why, something is going on in your head that seems too big for it, something that makes you listless and quiet when no one’s around. There’s a reason- there has to be. 

her hand cups your cheek and directs your gaze to her face and not her chest, and you blush, having been caught looking. “Good pups use their words, honey, even if they’re feeling small and needy.”

You struggle when you pull back, sorting through your pupils brain is a difficult task when preoccupied with Tae, mommy, want, pretty, mommy alpha smells so nice, looks so safe. 

“Can I- can I put my mouth on Mommy?” heat laces down her chest, a fire like none other that has her body growing warm everywhere you touch, the smooth line of your inner thigh pressed to hers, your stomach as you inhale to whine. You squirm away from the embarrassment of asking for something so taboo. 

Her hand grips your waist, and you know you aren’t going anywhere. 

“Take what you need pup.” 

Her spaghetti straps are down around her shoulders before you can blink, dress rucked down to her rib cage. Her chest has swelled so prettily from the hormones her nipples little puffy peaks. She’s maybe a b cup at best but your mouth waters, a whine slipping from your lips without you trying to summon it.  

Tae guides you to them with her hand threaded through the hair on the back of your head. Fingers rubbing soothingly against your scalp and oh 

With Tae so close, you can smell all of her. It’s so natural when your mouth guides into a suck, Hot and gentle where she’s sensitive. Your nose nudges against her skin taking deep lungfuls of her scent, greedy in the way that you curl around her body. Your brain is truly quiet for the first time in months. Resting your head in the crook of her elbow. 

Tae sighs and stretches out while you settle. It’s not exactly not sexual but intimate, the attention at her chest isn’t something that makes arousal stir in her stomach, not when it's like this. Sucking softly, never too hard, with the same pressure that you might mouth at a soft blackberry, lips teasing but only just teasing.

She picks back up the book and keeps reading, ignoring the way her breath hitches with every harder suck. 

There is something about tucking your face close, hands tangling in her dress, that feels like the most natural expression of your dynamic. The way she pets over your shoulders and reads to you while you set down your heavy worries. Clinging to her until your fingers go slack and your sucking slows. Lips parting to let out soft sleepy breaths across her sensitive skin and Tae knows you’ve fallen asleep. 

Tae is the only alpha who can give you this.

After the first time, all bets are off. 

Tae often finds you tugging at her top at dinner time, fingers curious and needy on her ribcage, unwilling to touch where you need to under the gaze of so many other. 

Bending under the need, the haze of omegaspace tugging at you, begging for the couch and her in the green room. It’s especially bad if she wears anything low-cut. You’re squirmy in her lap during movie nights, a little breathless any time she hugs you (she might be a little mean and tug you up so that you're face to face with the object of your desire)

You're more than a little nervous around the rest of the pack. 

But she agrees this is a secret. A habit that should be just yours. Tae never would have said there would be anything too intimate to share with them after coming out but maybe this is. 

One time and one time only does Jimin accidentally walk in on you, 

Namjoon is close behind, she isn’t sure what their reasons are. Luckily your head is blocked by a blanket and Tae only has to hiss a “get out” for them to turn tail and run. Thankfully, they hadn’t prodded that much about it later.  

It’s not always so innocent, sometimes Tae’s thigh presses up between your own guiding you into a slow grind or her fingers wander, gently parting your thighs and pressing up and under your sleep shorts. fingers curiously exoloring  between your thighs insistent to taste your pleasure in the air and hear your needy moans. 

But every time you stop sucking, she stops touching. leaves her fingers just there tugging on your clit or just around them. Caught between a rock and a hard place, as you keep going, looking up at her, hips jerking against her fingers. Your sucking near frantic as you cum and Tae's wicked smile and mean laugh above you as you gush and drip around her fingers. rubbing gently over your clit at the same rhythm which you suck.

Worse are the times that she says, “Mommy’s turn” with a smile on her face. Switching your positions entirely. Holding your wrists so that you can’t try and cover yourself as she licks and sucks with abandon. Rubbing your frustrated tears away with her thumbs as she sucks at your nipples until they’re bitten and sensitive. So sensitive that you feel them every time they rub against your shirt, constantly distracting you and reminding you of her touch. 

There is something about you needy and squirmy in omegaspace, dripping messy all over her nightdress, upset and tearful at being teased for so long that makes Tae’s alpha purr, makes her almost addicted. Those moments usually end with her cumming over your tummy and you grinding one out against her face or her thigh and once, her tits.

She’s cum on yours before, had you hold up her skirt like a good girl, standing there with your nipples wet from her mouth to let her jack off all over you. listening to you babble about how pretty her cock looks, how beautiful she is, it never takes her long.

The walk of shame to the bathroom had drawn the stares of quite a few of your packmates, Jimin had nearly walked into a wall as Tae led you upstairs for a shower. 

It's intoxicating being needed, being the bearer of your needy whines and these delicate moments. When one nipple gets too sensitive and Tae transfers you to another, cheeks pink, lips wet and kissable, tasting like Tae's skin when she leans down. fussy, unwilling to be parted from her for even a second. 

Tae looks and feels her most beautiful with her chest sucked pink,  nipples glossy from your mouth when you inevitably fall asleep like that. And Tae has to pull up her dress and call for one of the alphas to help carry you to the nest like you weren't just doing something so salacious

When you’re alone, and your fingers instantly gravitate towards the buttons on her blouse, needy whines mean only one thing as you struggle to unfasten the buttons. Fingers clumsy from your wanting.

"My sweet little pup, so cute and needy for mommy that you can't even wait for a second, what am I going to do with you?"

~-~

(Hobi, the same day as before) 

Not many people use the beach this late in the season. The businesses on the boardwalk are half-boarded up now that the tourist rush is over and half of the lights are empty and vacant of their usual neon splendor.

But maybe if Yoongi were here, he’d say that this is the way that you and Hobi flirt. With jabs back and forth like crashing waves. Jests of Are you tired yet? and not at all as you run and giggle, splashing through the dark waves. Happy and zoomy in the way that dogs get when you give them wide open spaces to run. Until the late hour drags your bones down and exhaustion makes you giggly and innocent. The way you and Hobi maybe never get to be when you’re not alone with each other.

But you can trust him, with your sensitive parts and your darkness too.

The beach is quiet at night, the hem of your pajama pants soaked 3 inches up from the cold water. Your shoes sit discarded in the sand and the cold salt air tickles your forehead and your bare toes. A pair of headphones between the two of you tangle in the sand like a string of fate. You bob your head to Hobi’s most recent favorite song and shiver.

Hobi notices and starts to shuck off his jacket, thick sweatshirt balmy underneath. You make a noise in protest but he doesn’t listen. His next words a mess in the middle of so much base, “I’ve got more meat on my bones than you do.”

You take his headphone out of your ear. “You sure?”

“Yeah,”

You ease into the warmth like it’s what you’ve been waiting for, and Hobi pulls himself closer to you to block the wind. You know you'll smell like him tomorrow morning, that the others will hover and breathe deep, appreciating your combined scents.

The moon is bright tonight, casting everything in shimmery pools of silver. You can see him in near-perfect blue-grey detail. It’s what drew you out tonight, the promise of an extra high tide and the glittering splendor of the ocean on a full moon. The drag of waves has the same tempo as Hobi’s soul, the tide higher than usual.

You fold the sleeves over your hands in the semi-darkness and it strikes him as oddly fragile, the way you curl in on yourself. One second happy and zoomy, and the next almost conservative. Like you think you won’t have enough joy for later. Your happiness reseeding like a tide.

Hobi turns his knees to the side. "You've been acting different since the rut." Was it me? Was I the one who made you look a little smaller, a little sadder than you were yesterday? You deflate at his words and Hobi struggles. “Not weird! It’s not bad I’m just-” worried- so fucking worried.

“Was it the alphas today?” he trails off, unsure of what he's asking.

You turn towards him, shoulders resting against the sand. All rocks made small, and time and energy that's made boulders movable. The sand curves to the shape of your body. Your cradle and your grave.

"No- your coworkers were fine just-" You shrivel your nose at the stars, maybe fate is taking notes. "Alphas, you know?" 

"Hey, I’m an alpha too." He pushes at your shoulder playfully, trying to make the mood lighter so that you’re more likely to tell him what's really wrong. There’s sand in your hair when you turn away hiding your small smile like the sliver of a crescent moon. He feels like he should have anticipated that and brought a blanket or at least a towel for you to lie on, if not to make you warmer than to at least make sure you didn’t get sand in your hair. 

"Yeah, but you're one of the good ones." 

He settles back against the sand, faintly warm from the sunshine still. At odds with the cold wind that whips at the two of you. “I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m just-“ your face twists with melancholy. “Tired.”

Tired. Hobi had found you dozing in the nesting nook tonight. Why had you slept there and not upstairs? You could have waited for him in either place- so why did you choose the one that made you alone? Why deny yourself the comfort at your fingertips?

Hobi swallows, “do you want to head back?”

Your eyelashes flutter whisper soft against your cheek, your voice thick like you might be about to cry. But you can tell Hobi these things, the restless half-exhaustion of not knowing when it will get easier, the exhaustion of having to try so hard for so long and still feel like you haven't gotten anywhere.

“I don’t think it’s the kind of tired that sleep can fix Hobi.” 

Hobi blinks back the tightening in his chest like someone has stretched a rubber band around his lungs, pulling himself up so that you’ve got to look at him and see the sincerity in his face. 

"You don't have to be okay you know. You don't have to, it would be okay if you weren't. We'd make it okay." 

You swallow and it takes you a long time to answer, long enough that Hobi gets a little worried. You pick up the sand and let it fall through your hand. Dry, movable, changing. When the words come, they’re like a flood.

"It didn't fix me.”

You look like you don’t want to admit it, but the truth is so hard to contend with sometimes when expectations are proven false. 

“The rut- being with Namjoon- Proving I could handle it. It didn't fix what was broken with me. I think I wanted it to like- make me feel whole, make me feel normal. It's what an omega in my position should be doing. Helping their alpha. Being good.”

Your breath hitches, and you know that there are so many many ways to be good. Being good for Geumjae meant starving yourself and staying quiet. You thought that maybe being good for Namjoon would be easier, that taking care of yourself would become easy because he wanted that for you. 

But maybe it's not the alphas you're with that are the problem. 

You liked the rut, you would swear on your mating mark that nothing happened during it that you didn't consent to and fully anticipate. So why do you still feel so fragile? Like you should be apologetic for it, like somehow- you didn't live up to their expectations.

He rolls back onto his ass letting you sit away from him because distance feels like what you might need. 

"Good, I didn't want you to choose that." 

As much as Hobi and the others are loathed to admit it, regardless of the bite mark now yellowing against your thigh, you being there actually did help during Namjoon's rut. Usually, at least one of them is left looking gaunt and in need of a few days’ rest. Jungkook didn’t even have a seizure this time. And to everyone's surprise, the pack had gone mostly back to normal sort of instantly. 

Everyone had been able to walk just fine the following evening, they'd take it slow, but maybe they hadn't needed to. Hobi would have never called them unbalanced before but it's clear now how much their pack benefits from having a third omega.

But none of that would matter if you decided that you'd taken that step too quickly. 

Your hand tangles with his, tangles with the sand. His fingers are strong and birdlike in yours, warm and rough.

He waits for a few long breaths "Was it bad that I said that?" Double checking, because you're both allowed to double-check when you need to. Both you and Hobi struggle to trust your internal narrative because you know how easy it is to twist it. 

You take turns like this often, being vulnerable, being the one to break apart. Your laugh is something jagged, tearing up bits of yourself that you don’t want to keep, don’t want to hold onto, you swear. 

How is it so easy to be hurt and yet so difficult to let the things that hurt you go? 

"Yes," your laugh is sadder than he likes, you tuck your face back into the crook of his shoulder. “No. It’s fair. I think I’m just overwhelmed a little, I just wish I knew how to hope like you do. Every time I’m sad it feels like it’s like it’s the saddest I’ve ever been. Like there’s no coming back from it. It's exhausting always trying to be hopeful. How do you do it?" 

Hobi likes thinking about it like that; hoping as a learned skill and not as an affliction. He gets cynical every time he gets sad and You know this best. He wonders when exactly you became the person he goes to with all of his contradictions. He doesn't know when he became this person for you either but he likes it.

He likes it. 

He pulls himself a little bit closer to you. Nudging your shoulder with his and leaning. Rubbing quick up and down your calves to warm you up. The flannel of your pajama bottoms are rough against his fingers, he thinks they might be Yoongi's. 

"I don't know, guess just I have to hope the healing adds up one day. When I'm not sad I don't know what else to do but hope." 

You sit like that in silence for a good long while, the headphones buzzing on the sand between the two of you, quietly watching the ocean.  

“I think you might be my best friend.” You admit quietly. Hobi’s smile makes the moon shine just a little brighter. 

“I think you might be my best friend too.” 

You sit like that, your body pressed up against his for a long time watching the ocean. Long enough that Hobi thinks you both might turn into statues, turned to marble pearly ness underneath the moons light, like it's trying to keep you here in this moment for as long as possible. 

Hobi thinks you might have fallen asleep but then You stiffen and freeze. It's not him you're looking at when he turns. Your eyes have lost their glassiness, squinting into the ocean at something in the distance. Bobbing too close to be a buoy and too hard-shaped to be a patch of seaweed. 

"Hobi, I think there's something out there in the water."

~-~

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

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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

 ~-~

Extra’s: Tae’s angel halloween dress + the nesting nook

[catmansquad]

The Thirst (P2)

Part 1     Part 3

You recall being led back to Miguel’s penthouse; it was expansive, the home of someone very rich and decorated with the tokens of someone well-travelled. Guided through the moonlit streets by his arm across your shoulders. His smile was gentle, his eyes were kind, he was so very warm to the touch. You had melted into his touch, as he peppered sweet kisses to your skin, humming pleasingly. Then, you had taken his hand and he had pulled you close, that broad chest and strong muscles firm at your back, his arm across your chest in a gently embrace as his other hand took your wrist in some form of a lover’s embrace, like he was feeling your racing pulse under his touch, more kisses, on your cheek, along your jaw, to your neck and then….

Then you’d… He’d… Memory became hazy past that moment, there had been the sense of sensual delight, a moment where pain and pleasure escalated into utter bliss and your next clear memory was of waking, weak and weary, wrapped in silken sheets of a king-sized bed. He must have truly been an amazing lover for nothing but those sweet sensations to cling to you, bone deep. When you finally found the strength in your limbs to pull yourself free, you found him in his spotless kitchen, gloomy with all the blinds still drawn and his eyes hidden by tinted glasses. Likely, he was just hungover, yet that sense of endless vitality and eternal calm remained about him. A romantic gentleman kind enough to make you breakfast, to help you get your strength back after the night’s ordeal.

Miguel was not bothered by these so called “hunters” in their attempt to gather more to their cause. There had been others, there would be more. Acting out in any way would only fan the flames of their fervor. The only reason for their presence in the city were the spontaneous Fledgling explosion recently. So many newly Turned, overconfident, hungry, no control of their newfound thirst leaving a trail of bodies that needed to be cleaned away. If he found the one or the group who were responsible for these mass Turnings, he would send them into death himself. Too much mess, too much attention and the mortals became nervous. All in all, he could wait. This new band of would-be hunters were, like all the rest, mortal. They would wither and crumble, like all else in the world. He would remain, he always did.

In the daylight, the streets were far safer, yet your journey home would not be uneventful. Not several streets away did a small crowd gather in a local park, to where a figure stood atop a bench, calling out to the assembled.

‘… I tell you, brothers and sisters! There are monsters among us! Beasts who wear the skins of men! I know there are those of you who know of what I speak! How many of you have felt their presence? How many of you have suffered for it! Anemia! Missing time! Hours of our lives stolen from us! There are people who vanish in dark alleys, are they devoured by the very shadows?! No! We are but prey! We are the sheep who do not know the wolves are among us! Open your eyes! Read our words! We. Must. Fight. Them! Or all is lost…’

Their tirade fell into a gradual calm once again, one or two people applauded, the rest broke into murmurs.

‘Hobie, please…’

At their beckoning, their aide stepped forwards, cradling a stack of leaflets in his arms and strode amidst the crowd, handing them out one by one. Eventually, he came to you, leaving the cream-coloured leaflet held out for you to take.

‘Please… It ain’t madness. It’s truth.’ His voice was low.

‘I met one of ‘em… Once. Nearly sucked me dry like a capri-sun… Barely escaped with me life...’

As if to prove his point, he softly pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing the twin, jagged scars that trailed from what looked like healed puncture marks. His eyes looked you over, and you didn’t realise your hand had been on your own neck until you snapped back to yourself and took the leaflet from him. There were no marks, not even the hint of a wound upon your skin. Nothing untoward had happened between Miguel and you; it had just been sex. Right…?

‘It’s like they do somethin’ to the brain… Makes you forget. Some people just remember it as… a fun night, or a brutal assault in a dark alley…’

‘Hobie!’ The leader called out for him again, and he gave a sad smile as you took the leaflet.

‘You know where to find us, all in there.’

As he weaved back through the crowd, you stared down at the leaflet; the caricature of a masked beast with sharp teeth.

“BEASTS AMONG US”. – A Warning by Avis Hardinger.

‘Is this seat taken…?’

You looked up from the leaflet, the coffee cooling on the table, and a stunned smile graced your face at the sight of Miguel, leaning one hand on the back of the chair opposite you, fingers drumming, almost squinting at you behind his sunglasses.

‘Miguel! No, it’s free…’ You had just considered inviting your friend out, if their hangover was any better, but now all thoughts fled your mind, replaced solely with Miguel’s presence as he sat down opposite you. As fine and fancy as the night before, ringed fingers entwined as he peered over the top of you at them.

‘How are you doing…? Achy? Sleepy?’

‘I feel better now, thanks.’ Your smile matched his own, but he concealed the full breath of it behind his hands. Curious, you slid the leaflet across the table before him.

‘What do you… What do you think of this?’

He hummed thoughtfully, hands parting as he picked it up, skimming over it before placing it back down with an amused laugh.

‘Surely, you don’t believe this? Heh… These are the same people who claim their grandmothers get abducted by UFOs to Jupiter every night. “Help, aliens stole my memory and my pet canary!”’

He chuckled softly again, leaving you utterly enchanted with him, even in the midday sun, the shadows seemed to cling tighter to him.

‘I’ve heard about that Avis Hardinger. None of them good…’

He slid the leaflet back across to you, fingers entwined as he peered at you over them again. You couldn’t quite pull your attention from just how handsome Miguel was- it was like your mind was on auto-pilot. Even people who passed by were stealing little glances.

Miguel knew his power had only grown with age; he was no longer that smug, hungry Fledgling who believed himself to be at the top of the world. Well… Maybe some part of that self still lingered inside him. It would probably explain why he, at five-hundred years of undying experience, was currently sat across with a mortal he’d fed on, the softest touches of his charms keeping their attention solely on him. This was how it always started, the inevitable descent into yet another romantic mishap. He could entertain a fun date, indeed…

‘Having said that…’ Behind his hands, he let his tongue lick along one of his fangs, smirking. Your attention was rapt on him.

‘They’re having a meeting tonight. Did you want to go along…? Just for a laugh…’

It was time to see what this scared huddle of mortals would do to consider themselves “hunters”.

When you saw Hobie next, he was greeting people with a gentle smile, a procession of people into the meeting hall made out of a community center. Beside him, the pale, tall form of Avis Hardinger watched, eyes flitting among people.

‘Hey!’ Hobie took your hands, shaking them softly, greeting you at the doorway filled with silver crucifixes hanging from strings.

‘Glad you came! Go in and take a seat.’

‘Hobie, w-what is all that?’ You glance up at the crucifixes, feeling Avis’ paranoid eyes on you briefly before he turned away. Hobie’s smile became clever, and he winked.

‘My idea! Great, innit? See, the beasts can’t stand silver and powerful faith, so why not combine the two! Gotta make sure there’s no… unwelcome guests, y’know? Go in, get settled… Avis gets… impatient easily- man needs to chill…’

You watched Miguel casually brush the silver crucifixes aside, in no mood to simply duck under them, and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

‘Hobie!’ Avis’ voice barked from inside the hall and you watched the man in question roll his eyes.

‘Yes, boss?’

‘The incense!!’

‘Sure, the incense… Sure you can find a fuckin’ match if you took yer head outta yer ass… Tosser.’

He cleared his throat after his mutterings, forcing that pleased smile back on his face.

‘We’ve got juice if you’re thirsty!’

Only half the many chairs had been filled, by people of all walks of life, but you sat softly beside Miguel, in the back row, leaning into his warmth as he rested with long legs stretched out, lazy, at ease, a man with all the time in the world. His eyes glinted, dark brown as he looked to you.

‘Sorry this is an awful first date…’

He reached one hand to cup your jaw, stroking a thumb across your cheek, voice a low whisper.

‘I promise to take you somewhere fancy…’

You blushed under his touch, heart thundering.

‘I… I uh… Don’t think I’d have anything classy enough for the places you’ve got in mind, Miguel…’

His smile did not falter, his eyes crinkled with delight.

‘Then we’ll have to go shopping for something that is…’

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as his eyebrows wiggled briefly. You were fairly sure he was going to spoil you rotten if you allowed him to. You watched Miguel bring a hand to his mouth, covering as he coughed, then doubled up into a brief wheeze, and the spell was broken.

‘Miguel?’

‘… ‘m fine… Must be the incense…’ He waved a hand across his nose, like he was trying waft the smell away. You turned in your seat, squirming to see the several sets of lit incense sticks that curled into the air, filling the room with a cloying, sweet scent. Silence settled as Avis stepped up to the podium, hands raised.

‘My friends! Brothers and sisters! Thank you for coming. At least here, huddled together in our sanctuary, we can rest assured that we are safe. We will begin with our notes from out last meeting…’

Avis speech nearly bored you to sleep, several times you found yourself nearly drifting onto Miguel’s chest, feeling his hand stroke softly across your back. Through heavy eyelids, you scanned the room, a few people were listening intently, the rest were sneakily on their phones, and even behind Avis, Hobie had put earbuds in and was now quietly rocking out, miming an air guitar. He brought a soft smile to your face, watching him. You woke up properly as you heard Miguel cough again, his chest jolting.

‘…But now, we have the home advantage!’ Avis slammed a hand onto the podium, and everyone sat upright to attention.

‘Through the combination of science and esoteric rituals, we finally have a means to combat this threat, not just ward against them as we cower in our homes!’

You were torn between listening to Avis and watching in concern as Miguel hunched over, desperately trying to clear out his chest. You patted his broad back reassuringly.

‘… Behold! We have created an airborne toxin- please, calm yourselves, my friends… The very incense sticks you see alight before you are no mere mood setter, they are our weapon against these bloodthirsty beasts! To us, they are utterly harmless, also quite nice to enjoy- I am rather proud of that…’

Miguel’s wheezing coughing became worse, and you swore the hand he coughed into was being speckled with red.

‘The stolen blood in their abominable bodies rebels at our sacred incense. No more are we their cattle. From this night on, we let them know that we…. We….’

People were beginning to turn to look at you both, you soothingly tried to rub Miguel’s back as his suffering continued, only half paying attention. But Avis’ words had found their purchase in your mind.

‘… Oh dear god…’ Avis’ voice was haunted, from the podium, he pointed a trembling finger across the room. Your hand stilled on Miguel’s back and lifted away, slowly rising from your seat, the inevitable could not be ignored. Realising something was happening, Hobie stopped his silent jam and pulled out his earbuds, head tilted in confusion as Avis let the moment build to a conclusion among the terrified, whispering citizens giving you both a wide berth.

‘… My friends…. There is a beast among us…’

Miguel drew a deep, shuddering breath and lifted his head up; eyes blazing crimson, lower face smeared with the blood that coated his hand. You backed away as Avis stepped from the podium, some citizens began to scream, already running for the fire exit.

‘… Well now…’ Miguel rasped, one hand gripping the folding chair in front of him as he resisted the urge to succumb to another coughing fit.

‘… Finally, something interesting.’

With a snarl, and one hand alone, he threw the chair across the room with frightening force, crashing into the incense burner, and carrying it to the far wall to shatter through a window.

‘It stinks in here…’

His sharp, terrifying eyes looked to you, and the memory of the other night rushed back in full- not of blissful sex, but of a ferocious embrace, his teeth in your neck; devouring you, enrapturing you, then soothing that pain with a gentle lick, the wounds healing in one firm stroke of the tongue-

You felt something crash into you, Hobie bolted past you towards the doors, and you were sure you heard him muttering “fuck this!” back to back under his breath. His gaze lingered on you, teeth gritted in an annoyed snarl, those fangs, the smeared blood, those blazing eyes- he looked monstrous, so different from the charming, handsome man you had sat beside only moments ago.

‘You may want to leave. Or close your eyes. This may get… Unpleasan- STAY THERE, AVIS!’

His gaze snapped to the cowering figure, voice escalating into a low roar that froze the man to the spot with terror. The chill night air blew away the cloying sweetness, and shocked some sense back into you. Stumbling away from him, you headed out into the night, fleeing with everyone else.

Back in control of his faculties, Miguel rested his hands in his coat pockets, hiding the worst of his nature as he stepped in long strides to where Avis stood trembling in his skin, rooted by fear and willpower both.

‘So, would be Hunter… I think that you have had the worst luck tonight. Were I in a more charitable mood, I would simply wipe your memory, or perhaps convince you to take a long walk into the Thames. Alas, I think a more necessary punishment is in order for you…’

The shorter, skinnier man whimpered, eyes flitting over him, glancing to the exit repeatedly, yet he could not will his body into action.

‘Although I will say thank you, for actually managing to give my somewhat banal existence a new, exciting twist. I’m afraid you just had the misfortune of having absolutely no idea of who you’re fucking with.’

He stopped close to the trembling man, glancing at his watch, just to watch the second hand tick by.

‘I am not just “a beast”. I am a very old, very ill-tempered Vampire, and you have just ruined my chances with someone I cared for…’

He grinned, slowly running his tongue over those fangs, nose wrinkling at the scents from the mortal. Terrified indeed.

‘Ugh… I think I have toyed with you enough for tonight, Avis. So…’

He reached out and grabbed the front of Avis’ shirt, well away his claws were out and biting through the cloth and scratching skin.

‘…. I do really hate having to deal with rampaging Fledglings, and I did swear a long time ago I wouldn’t subject anyone else to this curse, but I think you need to be taught a lesson.’

He saw Avis’ eyes widen, another terrified whimper, perhaps a plea that never emerged.

He stepped close enough to whisper into his ear.

‘… Brace yourself, Avis… You’re about to enter a nightmare you can never wake up from….’

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

chapter 1: monsters under beds words: 7.5k

Sometimes, in her dreams, Gwen runs away from her selves only to come face to face with Gayatri. Gayatri smiles, and takes Gwen’s hand and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you set the universe right.” And then she pushes Gwen off a bridge. The world can only move on if she’s not in it. But, like, aside from all that, everything’s great! She failed her junior year, on account of the fact she missed a few months of classes, and even with the help of summer school, Gwen will probably have to retake pretty much every class from the year before. She’s definitely not going to be able to graduate with her friends, but she thinks she cares about this way less than most everyone else in her life. Gwen’s learning to take the fact she has any kind of normalcy now as the victory it is. Sure, it's not the life she expected, but hey, that’s just what happens when you’re a superhero, right? You make sacrifices. It’s important to be grateful for what you have left.

It's been a few months since Spot's attack, and Gwen still feels like a disaster waiting to happen. Hobie & Venom help--just.... maybe not at the same time.

[jboofan]

There's something wrong with Manager Kim part 2

Mr Grumpy meets his little Miss Sunshine

I'm Min Yoongi

Yoongi x YN

Yoongi itched his armpit and turned over again, ignoring the smothered sound of his phone for the fifth time. He'd lost count of how much it had buzzed until he could no long sleep, now agitated he blinked hard in the dark room as the door opened and he saw a shadow standing there.

YN's finger hovered over the call button for the eleventh time, pressing it, and waited an age to get an answer. Just as she was about to hang up, he finally decided to answer.

"Hello?" she said quickly to simply hear a nasty burp.

He actually burped at her and hung up.

YN scoffed. Min Yoongi actually burped and hung up on her. Shocked, she stared at the phone for several minutes, he actually hung up on her.

"That little shit," her hand shook as it gripped the phone tightly.

Her eyes narrowed; she hated him already. She finished getting changed in the room next door, checked her watch, and scrolled through his calendar on her phone. It was already ten, and his meet and greet session at eleven, on the otherwise of town; at the rate he was going she would fuck up her first task before she even started.

**

The unfamiliar sound of heels clicking down the tiled corridor was very out of place.

"Morning everyone," YN smiled as she clickity clacked down the hall, confidently heading to the kitchen for some much needed coffee.

"YNah, get your own," moaned Jin as she swiped his coffee for a quick sip.

"I'll make you one next time," she pleaded as the others spotted her.

"Americans sure do dress different," Jimin appreciated across the table.

"Thank you," she gave him a wink, which made him blush and look away, coughing as his coffee went down the wrong way.

"You are definitely what we call a human vitamin c," Hobi explained as he laughed at a fed up Jin.

"YNah, seriously you owe me," as he missed the coffee again.

"I'll make you dinner," she bargained as he spied her. "But first I need to go wake the Monster Min," she huffed, draining the coffee.

Rule number 14 according to her Dad's email, was apparently chaperoning him and ensuring he didn't bring any stray dogs back to his room all part of her job description. Yay, she thought sarcastically.

YN knocked on the door patiently. No answer. Maybe he was in the shower? She stood outside for a couple more minutes before knocking again. Hearing nothing, hand on the door handle, she silently turned it ajar.

"Jesus Christ," she said outloud. Lying in bed semi naked, blissfully unaware was Min Yoongi. Rolling her eyes, the room reeked of his aftershave; she quietly cleared her throat, unsure how the scent hadn't killed him in his sleep. Nothing.

She did it again, a little louder. "AHEM."

Zilch.

"Yoongi, you need to get up."

Yoongi turned over, his pale large back to her as he grabbed another pillow and yawned.

"Baby, just a bit longer please," he drowsily asked.

YN looked around and spotted a glass of water beside his large desk. Making sure she didn't trip on any keyboard cables, YN picked up the tall glass of water and hovered.

Tucking her phone under her armpit, she grabbed, then gently poured it straight over his head, a few splatters catching her leather skirt.

Yoongi woke up, gasping for air, covered in cold water. Screaming loudly.

Hearing Yoongi scream so loudly, and so unexpectedly had YN scared, who in turn also began screaming loudly too as he continued to scream, covering his body with the damp sheet.

"Who the fuck are you?!!" he shouted, wiping his eyes and sitting up looking at her.

Jin, Namjoon and Hobi ran into the bedroom as quickly as they could on hearing her scream, followed by Jimin, a piece of toast in his hand.

"Hey, I called you but you burped on the phone. Disgusting pig. And then wouldn't answer my calls. So I had no choice."

Yoongi leapt out the bed, discarding the wet sheet, water dripping off his dark locks.

"You—," he snarled as YN backtracked, trotting to Jin and hiding behind him for protection.

"Yoongi—" Jin started as YN poked her head out from behind her brother to further witness the drama.

"Get going Miserable Min, and be outside in fifteen minutes. You have a meet and greet, we need to be at for 11. And if you aren't there by then, you will suffer the consequences."

She tilted her head at the poor boy, a chirpy twinkle in her eye as she said it.

She marched back to the door and gave him an award winning smile.

"I'm YN, and I'm controlling your life now." She clapped her hands as the others admired her bold approach. "Outside in 14 minutes or you'll get an encore."

Jin pushed her out the door quickly as Namjoon stood calming down Yoongi as he colourfully swore at her.

Yoongi cleaned his face with a towel and disappeared into the bathroom to take a leak. Cursing her he brushed his teeth. Then cursing her again, he took a quick shower; running in and jumping back out as soon as he could.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about the way that girl told him he would suffer the consequences.

It sounded ominous and foreboding and he really didn't know what that crazy chick was capable of. He pulled his socks on a little quicker; and grabbing his stuff hoped he might be able to score a coffee before they left for the day.

**

"I'm sorry, if I hadn't walked into that glass door then Dad wouldn't have realised I'd sneaked into the study. Seriously, I'm so sorry," he rubbed her shoulder apologetically.

"Don't be, it's OK. I'll handle it. If Daddy dearest pins anything else on you, he is gonna come down on you like a shit brick house. He doesn't need to know anything else ok."

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothing. I just have to hold the hand of one of his little pets."

"That implies I am also a pet."

"Just Miserable Min, the one that can't keep it in his pants."

Jin's mouth fell open at the admission. "You threw water at him though? Isn't that a bit much YN?"

"Listen, Whatever it takes. I ain't letting him screw things up for me, or you, if Dad thinks I'm fucking about I'm gonna be stuck here with Yoongi till I'm old. I just wanna do my job and go back to my life," she tried to sound cheerful as she looked at Jin looking sad for her.

YN didn't see Yoongi, but she certainly heard him cursing her again, coming through the living room, a face like thunder as he spotted her. Right on time.

"Here comes Casanova, I gotta go," she nudged Jin.

Jin hugged her, "If you need any help with anything, just tell me yeah? I wanna help."

Yoongi spotted them before they saw him, the way the pair stood closely, it annoyed him that he couldn't catch their conversation, and even more irritated when they hugged. How does Jin know her? He sure was quick to jump to her aid.

"Hyung," he said courteously, addressing him. His mouth curled as he saw YN. "You."

She smiled and it pissed him off, which made her laugh even more. "Managed to dry off did we?"

YN was never a malicious person, but this idiot really knew how to test her.

"So who are you?" he asked as they left the apartment, and got into the waiting car. Irritated at just how slowly she was drip feeding him information he waited for her to get into the luxurious van, and made a point to sit right next to her.

YN watched him take a seat bedside her, and ignored him, scrolling through her phone at messages her friends had sent. I should reply back, she thought.

"Say what?" she said looking back at him blankly.

He was losing patience with her. He looked at her again, "Can I know what you are here for, woman who somehow got into my room, and had the audacity to throw water over me. Whilst I slept."

She chuckled, "That was funny. Hey," she said defensively as he gave her a dirty look. "If you had been on time, I wouldn't have had to disturb you."

"And I told you yesterday evening, when you had your knickers in a twist; I'm YN, Kim YN," she said shaking her head at the fact that's the only name she could come up with.

Yoongi looked confused. "You're not sure what your name is?"

YN scoffed, "That's like totally my name," who was she kidding, even she didn't believe who she was.

Yoongi gave her a skeptical eyebrow and went back to his phone. YN exhaled deeply as she looked back at her own phone, and checked off the autograph session at 11.

"So you're supposed to be my shadow?"

"Unfortunately."

Yoongi's mind started listing everything he could do to make her uncomfortable, hurt, guilty of mismanagement..

"So you're like my personal assistant?" he asked as they got closer to the venue. "You'll do as I say?" he inched closer to her.

"No," she turned to him, her finger pushed his forehead, and therefore the rest of his body away.

"Let's get one thing straight amigo, I'm here to make sure you get to where you need to get to and do what you're supposed to. It's become clear to management that you are fast becoming a liability," she made up.

"All these stories doing the rounds about your exploits; your exes sure don't like you and have complaints, and rumours of you striking up friendships with fans over Instagram wanting personal photos and the like-" that part was however untrue.

"That was just a rumour-" he pointed out.

"Yeah yeah, I believe you," she said sarcastically. She got out and he watched her long legs in that short skirt as they walked through to the meet and greet area.

"You're becoming the proverbial house dog that keeps fucking the neighbourhood bitches. Keep doing that, and your master will get you neutered," she continued trotting away, "and stop looking at my ass."

Yoongi coughed awkwardly, getting caught out.

Did she have eyes on the back of her head?

She smiled when she realised he was getting uncomfortable.

"I'll see you after your meet and greet. I'm assuming you're gonna go work out at some point? You look like I could snap you like a twig," she whispered in his ear, his hands flew up as she patted his flat stomach through his tshirt in the lift. She sniggered, getting into his head was one of the first things Jin and her were taught as children.

"Bullshit," he managed. "I'm Min Yoongi."

"Aww well done. You know your name," she sang sarcastically as she walked off towards the other managers.

*

​​​​​​"How's it going?" Se-Jin, their main manager asked hopeful.

"I've belittled him, made him think he's not a man, and tipped water over him in the sheets. I think it's been a productive morning, if I'm honest," she said proudly, before she felt him staring a hole through her head, she turned slowly to see him stare at her evilly.

Se-Jin tried not to chuckle, but he knew it had been a long time coming. That maybe this gatekeeper might last more than a week, unlike the several others who failed miserably.

"Wow, Kim YN...what on earth did he do to deserve this onslaught?"

She waved back at Yoongi cheerfully as he continued to give her a dirty look.

YN's eyes darkened, "I was nice and called him to wake him up, and explain his schedule, and the wiener burped and hung up. On me."

@craftymoonchaos @bbl32 @pb-n-juju @ireadthensuetheauthors

[lunarimagines]

MOBILE MASTERLIST

I have received many requests to update my masterlist, so here it is! As of October 18, 2020...

-----

~ = TRIGGER WARNING

* = SEXUAL CONTENT

[REDBUBBLE]

-----

Kpop

+ EXO

YOU’RE THE NEW GIRL WITH A ‘BAD GIRL’ IMAGE [VERSION 1] [VERSION 2]

THEY’RE IN THE MOOD, BUT YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD

THEIR GIRLFRIEND IS ANEMIC  

PLAYING WITH THEIR GIRLFRIEND’S LONG HAIR

MAKING BREAKFAST WITH YOU

JONGIN REACTION TO HIS GIRLFRIEND ALWAYS ASKING PERMISSION BEFORE INITIATING SKIN SHIP

WHAT DATING JONGIN WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING SEHUN WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING TAO WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING LUHAN WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT BEING SCHOOLMATES WITH KAI WOULD BE LIKE

LATE NIGHT LUHAN FLUFF BLURB

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH EXO (OT12)

WOLF!CHEN

*ONLY I CAN (KYUNGSOO SMUT)

*HOW YIXING WOULD BE IN BED

*SEX WITH BAEKHYUN

WHAT DATING BAEKHYUN WOULD BE LIKE

*WHAT SEX WITH KRIS WOULD BE LIKE

*I HAVE NO REASON TO BE JEALOUS (SEHUN SMUT)

*WHAT SEX WITH JONGIN WOULD BE LIKE

WHEN YOU CONFESS TO KAI

WHEN THE MANAGERS SUGGEST HE BREAK UP WITH YOU 

*SEX WITH CHEN

*SEX WITH KYUNGSOO

*SEX WITH LUHAN

*SEX WITH SEHUN

WOLF!KAI

*SEX WITH CHANYEOL

*SEX WITH SUHO

DATING CHANYEOL

*SEX WITH TAO

*SEX WITH XIUMIN

DATING KYUNGSOO

BEING SCHOOLMATES WITH CHANYEOL

YOU HAVE BENIGN ESSENTIAL TREMOR

WOLF!BAEKHYUN

THEY FIND OUT THEY’RE DOING A ROMANTIC BALLAD WITH YOU (THEIR CRUSH)

FLUFFY XIUMIN ONE SHOT 

~YOU’RE SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT 

CUDDLING WITH SUHO AND ACCIDENTALLY WAKING HIM UP

~YOUR SELF HARM COPING NOTEBOOK

YOU’RE DATING IN SECRET AND HE KISSES YOU (UNKNOWINGLY) IN FRONT OF CAMERAS 

JEALOUS!JONGIN

MARRIED LIFE WITH CHANYEOL

CUDDLING WITH KRIS AND SEHUN

*TOUCH IT [JONGDAE SMUT]

DATING KRIS [WU YIFAN]

HUSBAND!JONGIN

SECRETADMIRER!JONGIN

CUDDLING WITH EXO

THEIR GF HAD ADD

WHAT DATING JONGDAE WOULD BE LIKE

GROWING UP WITH JONGIN

YOUR CHILD CALLS HIM DAD

YOU THINK THEY ARE CHEATING

EXO REACTION TO SEEING YOU AGAIN AFTER YOU TWO BROKE UP

WHAT DATING TAO WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING SUHO WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING LAY WOULD BE LIKE

YOU FAINT IN HIS ARMS [CHANYEOL ANGST]

MARRIED LIFE WITH LUHAN

THE OVERLOOK [BAD!BOY CHANYEOL]

A-Z NSFW

[JONGDAE]

TEXTING

[JONGDAE]

+  BTS

YOU TELLING THEM ‘I LOVE YOU’

S/O TRIPPING OVER NOTHING

TYPE OF TUMBLR BLOG BTS WOULD HAVE

HEARING YOU SPEAK YOUR MOTHER LANGUAGE

LOSING SOMETHING OF THEIRS WHILE IN THE CAR

DANCING AND ACCIDENTALLY BREAKING THE T.V.

WATCHING A MOVIE WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS WHEN A SEXUAL SCENE COMES ON

WAKING YOU UP IN THE MORNING

~ FINDING SELF HARM SCARS ON YOUR BODY

MOVIE NIGHT WITH JUNGKOOK

WHAT DATING RM WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING JUNGKOOK WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING TAEHYUNG WOULD BE LIKE

WHAT DATING YOONGI WOULD BE LIKE

BEING SCHOOLMATES WITH SUGA

* VISITING NAMJOON AT THE STUDIO

BEING BEST FRIENDS (OT7)

YOU’RE AFRAID OF DOGS

YOU WATCH THEIR EVERY MOVE AT DANCE PRACTICE

YOU HATE WHEN PEOPLE TAKE PICTURES OF YOU

YOU’RE REALLY AFRAID OF BUGS

*SEX WITH JIMIN

*SEX WITH TAEHYUNG

*SEX WITH YOONGI

*SEX WITH NAMJOON

*SEX WITH JUNGKOOK

*SEX WITH JIN

*SEX WITH J-HOPE

*DO YOU WANT ME TO TEACH YOU (JIMIN SMUT)

*WATCH ME BABYGIRL [JUNGKOOK SERIES - COMPLETE] [1] [2] [3] [4] [vmin filler] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

WHEN I HAD YOU [JIMIN ANGST/FLUFF]

BAKING WITH JUNGKOOK

*THEIR S/O GIVING THEM A SHOW

*THIGH RIDING YOONGI

*WOULDN’T HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY [NAMJOON SUGAR DADDY SMUT]

THEIR CRUSH/BEST FRIEND IS AFFECTIONATE WHEN SICK

~THEIR TEENAGE CHILD GETS IN THEIR FIRST CAR ACCIDENT

~THEY HAVE A DREAM WHERE YOU DIE

*I HATE YOU. I LOVE YOU? [JIMIN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS SMUT]

*PHONE SEX WITH NAMJOON

THEIR S/O IS CATCALLED 

BRINGING THEIR AMERICAN S/O TO MEET THEIR PARENTS

DATING NAMJOON BUT BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH BTS

THEIR S/O TAKES THEM TO A HAUNTED HOUSE

BEING FRIENDS WITH JUNGKOOK AND YUGYEOM 

DANCING QUEEN [HOSEOK FLUFF]

*REACTION TO YOU SAYING “TAKE ME”

BTS THINKING THEIR S/O IS CHEATING

THEIR S/O IS A PICKY EATER

*BTS REACTION TO YOU GIVING THEM A SHOW

*YOONGI FWB

BTS REACTION TO YOU SITTING ON THEIR LAP…

~IF YOU’D LET ME [JIMIN ANGST]

YOU CUDDLING THEM IN YOUR SLEEP AND SAYING “I LOVE YOU”

*YOU’RE ON

THEIR S/O GETS A LIP PIERCING

DATING YOONGI BUT BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH BTS 

*YOU “FLEXING YOUR MUSCLES” 

IF SOMEBODY HAD TOLD YOU… [JUNGKOOK FLUFF]

*I WAS KIND OF HOPING THIS COULD BE YOUR PRESENT [JUNGKOOK SMUT]

BTS REACTION TO THEIR GF BRINGING THEM LUNCH

THEIR GF IS SIMILAR TO HOBI AND HAPPENS TO BE CLOSE TO HOBI

*FACE DOWN [YOONGI SMUT]

THEIR CRUSH IS DOTING/MOTHERLY

*YOU MOAN THEIR NAME DURING SEX

*YOU WANT SEX WHILE THEY’RE WORKING

*PHONE SEX WITH YOONGI

*REVERSING ROLES [YOONGI SMUT]

JEALOUS!YOONGI

BTS REACTION TO YOU HIDING YOUR SMILE WHEN YOU LAUGH

EYE ON THE TARGET (JUNGKOOK) [1] [2]

SEOKJIN AS YOUR SUGAR DADDY

BTS REACTION TO THEIR S/O CUPPING THEIR FACE AND KISSING THEM

~BTS REACTION TO THEIR FRIEND NOT BEING COMFORTABLE WITH THEIR BODY SIZE

TEXTING

[JIN] [JIMIN] [TAEHYUNG] [SUGA] [J HOPE] [RAP MONSTER] [JUNGKOOK] BESTFRIEND!JUNGKOOK HIGHSCHOOL!BTS FUCKBOY!YOONGI

SNAPS

[TAEHYUNG]

A-Z NSFW

[JUNGKOOK] [YOONGI]

+ ATEEZ

CONDITIONALLY YOURS (Seonghwa) [1]

ATEEZ REACTION TO ANOTHER MEMBER WALKING IN ON THE TWO OF YOU MAKING OUT [1] [2]

ATEEZ REACTION TO BEING JEALOUS OF ANOTHER MEMBER GETTING CLOSE TO THEIR S/O

+ INFINITE

YOU TALK ABOUT SEX

+ BOYFRIEND

THEY ALL LOVE THE SAME GIRL

ACCEPTING AN AWARD YOU

YOU THREATENING TO FIGHT THE CEO IF THEY DON’T GET A COMEBACK

VALENTINES DAY WITH KWANGMIN

*SEX WITH DONGHYUN

+ MISS A

GOING INTO TOWN WITH YOU

+ MONSTA X

THEY ACCIDENTALLY HUG YOUR SISTER INSTEAD OF YOU

*SEX WITH MINHYUK

SINGING A BALLAD WITH THEIR CRUSH

MARRIED LIFE WITH SHOWNU

REACTION TO THEIR GF AND ANOTHER MEMBER…

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH MONSTA X 

THEIR GF IS OLDER THAN THEM

ANNOYING THEIR MEMBERS BY SHOWING PDA WITH THEIR S/O

THEIR GF GIVES THEM A MASSAGE FOR THE FIRST TIME

*RETURN THE FAVOR [KIHYUN SMUT]

DATING IN SECRET WHEN HE ACCIDENTALLY KISSES YOU IN FRONT OF CAMERAS

*YOU SAY THEY HAVE A SMALL DICK DURING A FIGHT

WHAT DATING IM WOULD BE LIKE

TELLING HIM YOU’RE A VIRGIN BEFORE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE SEX

*HE WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE IF YOU HADN’T... [KIHYUN SMUT]

YOU HUG THEM FROM BEHIND AND ACCIDENTALLY GRAB THEIR CROTCH

MARRIED LIFE WITH JOOHEON

*SEX WITH IM

MARRIED LIFE WITH IM

*SEX WITH HYUNGWON

*SEX WITH KIHYUN

*SEX WITH JOOHEON

*SEX WITH SHOWNU

*SEX WITH WONHO

MONSTA X REACTION TO THEIR S/O HAVING AN ASTHMA ATTACK

*THIGH RIDING MONSTA X

+ GOT7

*SEX WITH JACKSON

*SEX WITH JUNIOR

*SEX WITH MARK

*SEX WITH JAEBUM

YOU WEAR THEIR SWEATER, YELL “KISS ME”, THEN RUN AWAY

*SEX WITH YUGYEOM 

LIVING WITH BESTFRIEND!JACKSON

THEIR GF HAS SWEATER PAWS

GOT7 AS FATHERS 

BEING FRIENDS WITH JUNGKOOK AND YUGYEOM 

*THEIR GF KNOWS HOW TO DEEPTHROAT

YUGYEOM DATING AN OLDER WOMAN

YOU’RE DATING MARK AND THE OTHER MEMBERS ARE JEALOUS

*SINCERELY, YOUR NEW FWB [YUGYEOM SMUT]

*REACTION TO THEIR GF WANTING TO BE SPANKED

JACKSON HAVING A CRUSH ON YOU

*I DIDN’T HAVE TIME FOR “CLASSY” [JAEBUM SMUT]

*SEX WITH YOUNGJAE

YOU’RE SICK BUT DON’T WANT TO WORRY THEM SO YOU KEEP IT A SECRET

DATING JAEBUM AND BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH GOT7

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH GOT7

TELLING HIM YOU’RE A VIRGIN BEFORE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE SEX

*SEX WITH BAMBAM

TEXTS

BESTFRIEND!JACKSON

SNAPS

[JINYOUNG]

+ C-CLOWN (DISBANDED)

*SEX WITH ROME

DATING CHRISTIAN YU [ROME]

+RED VELVET

YOU CALL THEM YOUR BEST FRIEND

*AN OVERWHELMING FEELING [IRENE SMUT]

+ INFINITE 

*SEX WITH MYUNGSOO

TELLING HIM YOU’RE A VIRGIN BEFORE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE SEX

+ IKON

*SEX WITH HANBIN

*SEX WITH DONGHYUK

“I DIDN’T LOVE YOU” [DONGHYUK FLUFF]

*SEX WITH JUNHOE 

*SEX WITH BOBBY

+ NCT

SOULMATE!MARK

WHAT DATING LUCAS WOULD BE LIKE

STUDY DATE WITH JUNGWOO

NCT 127 + JENO REACTION TO THEIR S/O BEING 160CM

EXCUSES, EXCUSES [HAECHAN FLUFF]

NCT DREAM REACTION TO THEIR GF BEING 165-170CM TALL

~NCT DREAM REACTION TO THEIR GF BECOMING DEPRESSED BECAUSE HER PARENTS ARE GOING THROUGH A DIVORCE

TEN TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION

WHAT DATING MARK WOULD BE LIKE

DATING TAEYONG

DATING JOHNNY (NCT)

FAKE TEXTS

BESTFRIEND -> BOYFRIEND MARK

WISHING MARK A HAPPY BIRTHDAY

[DONGHYUCK]

TWO WRONGS MAKE… A COUPLE? [Prince!Renjun] [1] [2]

+ F(X)

THEIR S/O HAS FIBROMYALGIA 

*SEX WITH AMBER

+ BLACKPINK

BARISTA!ROSÉ

WHAT DATING LISA WOULD BE LIKE

YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON ROSÉ

+ BLOCK B

*SEX WITH PARK KYUNG

+ DAY6

*TENDER LOVE AND AFTERCARE [BRIAN/YOUNG K SMUT]

DATING DOWOON

+ PENTAGON

WHAT DATING WOOSEOK WOULD BE LIKE

+ SHINee [NO LONGER WRITING FOR]

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH MINHO

LIVING WITH BESTFRIEND!KIBUM

SECRETLY DATING WHEN THEY ACCIDENTALLY KISS YOU IN FRONT OF CAMERAS 

SINGING A ROMANTIC BALLAD WITH THEIR CRUSH

THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON THE SAME IDOL

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH SHINee

THEIR REACTION TO YOU CRYING

BEING SCHOOLMATES WITH TAEMIN

GROWING UP WITH TAEMIN

YOUR CHILD CALLS HIM DAD

+ TWICE

*WHAT DATING JIHYO WOULD BE LIKE

FIRST KISSES WITH TWICE

STUCK IN TRAFFIC WITH TWICE

*SEX WITH MINA (TWICE)

+ GIRLS GENERATION [SNSD]

DATING TIFFANY

THEY FIND A GUY NAKED BY ACCIDENT

THEY FIND TAENY KISSING ROMANTICALLY

SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH THEIR SECRET GIRLFRIEND

THEIR BEST FRIEND IS HEARTBROKEN OVER A BOY

+ MAMAMOO

THEY ARE JEALOUS 

AND THEN… [MOONBYUL SMUT] [2]

+ SEVENTEEN

YOU’RE A TRAINEE UNDER PLEDIS

SUCK IT UP [JUN ANGST/FLUFF]

“IT’S TIME” [CHAN FLUFF]

*SEX WITH MINGYU

+ VIXX

THEIR GF HAS WAVY/CURLY HAIR

TELLING THEM YOU’RE A VIRGIN BEFORE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE SEX

+ ASTRO 

REACTION TO YOU SQUISHING THEIR CHEEKS

SNAPS

SANHA X CUTE

+ 2NE1

YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON CL

+ SISTAR

BEING YOUR BEST FRIEND IN SCHOOL

+ X1

GOING THROUGH A HAUNTED HOUSE WITH BF!HANGYUL

T.V. SERIES:

TWD

TELLING CARL YOU LOVE HIM

TEEN WOLF

SCOTT MCCALL

UNDERCOVER IDIOTS [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

DEREK HALE 

INDISCREET JEALOUSY

COME ON CINDERELLA

*SOLID ALIBI

I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS

DON’T DRINK THE ORANGE JUICE

THE MURDER OF THE BETRAYER [PART 1] [PART 2]

ISAAC LAHEY

I HAPPEN TO LOVE THAT ABOUT YOU

I’LL TAKE THAT CHANCE

STILES STILINSKI 

VALENTINE’S DAY

PRANK WAR

TVD

DAMAN SALVATORE

VICTORIAN ERA ROMANCE

~FINDING OUT ABOUT YOUR ANOREXIA

SUPERNATURAL

DEAN 

HUNTING HAS ITS PERKS

PROPOSING TO YOU

BLUSH

BANDS:

5SOS

BLURBS:

ASHTON IRWIN 

FRATBOY! ASHTON

CALUM HOOD 

ROUND TWO

MICHAEL CLIFFORD 

LATE NIGHT

BIRTHDAY AU MEME (AKA MY VERY FIRST IMAGINE EVER ON THIS BLOG)

LUKE HEMMINGS 

WHAT DATING LUKE WOULD BE LIKE

IMAGINES:

CALUM HOOD 

*SAVING WATER

4/4

HE FINDS OUT YOU’RE REALLY TICKLISH

1D

HARRY STYLES 

I’LL BE THOR

MOVIES:

THE OUTSIDERS

SODAPOP

~SODAPOP FINDING OUT ABOUT YOUR DEPRESSION

THE AVENGERS

THOR

BEING ABLE TO LIFT THOR’S HAMMER

YOUTUBE

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH DAN AND PHIL