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taevbears · 1 year ago

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Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it.

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung.

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you.

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths.

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer.

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail.

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain.

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films.

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek.

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—”

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face.

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds.

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

#movie night os #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #bts horror #jungkook horror #halloween 2023 #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic

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cottonlemonade · 9 days ago

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How You Met

word count: 1098 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Hinata x chubby!Reader

genre: angst with comfort, happy ending

warnings: spoilers

It was still hot outside even though it was nearing midnight and Hinata’s eyes began to sting. The temperatures rarely dropped below anything considered perfect summer weather in Japan. Last year when he realized it wouldn’t snow during wintertime he found it new and exciting. This year, the prospect only filled him with dread.

For the most part, he really enjoyed Brazil. He had found a new love in beach volleyball, got along pretty well with the people around him and… and that was about it. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel lonely when he had time to think about something other than training on his delivery runs - or when he was alone in his apartment and happened to glance too long at his lock screen showing his friends grinning widely into the camera.

But tonight felt different. The last delivery he had just dropped off was for a married couple, the husband being Japanese. As he opened the door to receive his food, his eyes lit up and after noticing Hinata’s accented Portuguese when he asked for the money, he had switched over to his native language with a hopeful glint in his eyes. And that was all it took. That short exchange had cracked the dam inside of Hinata that had been filling up since his arrival a little over 18 months ago. He reached a park, scarcely bigger than the gym back home, that, from the looks of it, seemed to be mostly deserted. Through the sparse amount of trees with their lusciously green canopy, he spotted the hustle and bustle of a restaurant. Warm, inviting lights, laughter, music - people having a good time. And as usual, he was on the outside looking in. He slowed and eventually got off his delivery bike. Maybe he shouldn’t be riding it when his vision started to blur. A few drops fell onto the pebbly pathway from an earlier short November shower.

Not bothering to wipe away the water from the bench he plopped down and took a deep breath. He had trouble doing so in the swampy humid air. He leaned forward, staring at the ground. Another wave of laughter carried over from the restaurant. He slung his arms around his chest, his head was almost between his knees now and he coughed a little when he felt a lump in his throat. He began to mutter to himself in Japanese. “Why am I here? What was I thinking? I miss everyone so much. I wanna go home! I -“

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hinata quickly turned his head away, closing his eyes to keep calm.

The voice seemed to belong to a young woman. You stood a couple of meters away, a plastic bag from a convenience store in one, a popsicle in the other hand.

Just wishing you would leave him alone, he nodded but couldn’t stop a small sniffle.

“Yeah, you see, I don’t believe that.”, you said in a kindly teasing sort of way. He only realized now that you spoke Japanese.

You added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”, he said to his shoes, worried you might think less of him when you saw the big heavy tears now rolling down his face and onto the clenched fists on his knees.

Your shadow, formed by a streetlamp behind you, nodded thoughtfully, then held the popsicle between your lips while rummaging in your bag for something.

Pebbles crunching under your shoes, you came closer and a moment later placed a pack of tissues and a small bottle of strawberry milk next to him, taking a couple of steps back again.

He looked up.

“Of course, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure everything will seem a little better tomorrow.”

Your smile was genuine and sweet. A slight accent told him you weren't a native speaker but the only thing he could really make out in the faint light was your curvy silhouette.

When he didn’t say anything you went on, “It’ll be okay. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

After a short unsure pause you walked away. He watched you go. His eyes fell onto the gifts next to him and he let out a small thankful whimper, using his shoulder to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall again. Hinata cleared his throat and, gingerly at first, grabbed the milk and tissues to put in his pocket for later.

The following morning he woke up tangled in his bedsheets and quieted the blaring alarm on his phone. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and as he stared at the ceiling of his small apartment the previous night came back to him. A short twinge of embarrassment rose in his chest. It wasn’t that he had never cried in public but just because he had done so before didn’t mean he was immune to the feeling of shame that followed.

He rolled over and spotted the now-empty bottle of strawberry milk sitting on the low table in his cramped room. What would be the chances of seeing you again? At the very least he wanted to thank you for your kindness. But he was also so desperate for a friend, especially one he could speak Japanese with. And so, deciding he would drive by the little park again tonight, he crawled out of bed and got started on his day.

Six days later and still no luck. It was pretty absurd to hope to find one person again in a city as huge as Rio de Janeiro, especially after only seeing them through a veil of tears in the weakened light of a park lantern, but if Hinata was good at anything it was never giving up.

The first week passed. Then the second.

At this point, he had to squeeze the pack of tissues in his pocket to make sure he didn’t just imagine the whole exchange.

Then two nights later, as he hurried up the steps to an apartment building he felt his determination slipping a little. What if he had already passed you on the street and didn’t recognize you? You might stay that kind stranger forever. He rang the bell of this latest delivery and absently drummed his fingers on his thighs as he waited for the door to open.

“Boa n- oh! Hey you!”

Hinata’s eyes widened. He recognized the voice. Oh, he definitely didn’t expect you to be this pretty. A smile, wider than any he had felt in months, spread across his face. Finally. He found you.

a/n: is it very obvious yet that I love the trope of meeting your s/o when one of you is having a really bad day?

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hollyhomburg · 2 months ago

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.74)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, a bit of spanking, implied d/s, under negotiated scene but everyone is okay with it, Mommy kink, mommy tae, baby dom tae, Brief daddy kink too, implied yandere Jin, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, discussions of free use, free use! jungkook, clothing control, dollification if you squint, forced caretaking if you squint, nudity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, implied omegaspace, preheats,

W/c: 21.1k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You are belly down in the nest when you first come too.

Your chest is pressed to the cuddle of blankets dragged beneath your tummy. Soft and cozy, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Your sweet sweet omega packmates have made you the best nest in existence. Comfy and plush, you can sense the high walls and the care that they put into the placement of every pillow.

The scents from both of them (milk and honey) flutter past your consciousness, tugging you down and down, covering you like a physical shadow. So sweet you want to roll around in it.

If only you had the energy for it, your body feels like a lead weight.

You're not alone here but you might as well be for how scent-drunk you are. Can omegas get scent drunk on other omegas? Distantly you can hear voices talking. Downstairs? Or in the dressing room? your brain moves sluggishly, not a single coherent thought filling your head other than how truly comfortable you are.

It’s perfect, Jinnie and Koo are the best at nest-making.

Your inner omega is not entirely satisfied until you can smell all of your pack, you nuzzle forward to search for them. The soft fabric by your pillow smells like Yoongi- like chocolate. Sweet and heady and almost melty. The cinnamon and caramel and coffee are harder to pick out, the vanilla less so because Jimin had suctioned himself to your back in the night, nosing at your shoulders until he settled. The whole nest smells like your pack. Smell safe, smells like home.

Someone has opened up the curtains early (or is it late into the morning?) rather meanly. Soft light turns yellow behind your eyelids. You shield your face from the light in a blanket that smells like Tae. Burrowing underneath it and hiding.

Something warmer and less ephemeral than sunlight dances up and down your spine. Arresting your escape into dreamland and waking you gently. Rubbing harder with every moment.

“Honey.”

You huff, voicing your protests at being woken. Screwing your eyes shut.

“Pup” Yoongi stresses. You chirp, a little bratty. He huffs a fond sigh before really putting his hands to use gripping you under your ribs to lift you up gently.

Or at least trying too. You flop back against the blankets limp, refusing to open your eyes. Fingers tangled in the nest like a child would clutch at a well-loved stuffed animal (there are well-loved stuffed animals here, mostly ringing the nest like little soldiers, your addition to the nest). Your body feels so good- listless and tired and sleepy. You don’t answer your mate with more than a grumble, trying to turn back over. Tummy, you need to be on your tummy.

Yoongi laughs, actually laughs, and despite your best efforts you start to wake you do starts to feel more awake. His sleepy giggle and the flutter of your heart is better than an alarm clock.

Why stay asleep when you have so much to wake up to? Your mind doesn’t get the memo, remaining fuzzy and sluggish.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late and…” Something smells very very sweet, almost syrupy on the air. You don’t mind the smell, but Yoongi smells a little sour. A little stress bitter- more 87% dark chocolate and not hot chocolate goodness. What could he possibly have to be stressed about when the nest feels like this? All he has to do is nest and he'll be right as rain, you wish you could tell him that, but your mouth remains sleep-slack and pouty.

His hand holds your hip, keeping your legs closed. Keeping your legs from parting. You cling to the pillow that smells like Tae. Intent on putting it between your legs and hugging it and not him if your mate is going to be mean and wake you.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. Yoongi stops you.

“You’re gonna get it all over the bed and that if you’re not careful, and if you do Jin definitely isn’t gonna let you go with Namjoonie without giving you a scolding. And you know how he likes his scolding’s-”

Your body warms and sweetens, You bring your legs together, intent on pushing up in the nest and telling him off. But it’s then that you feel it. The cold, the wetness of slick between your legs.

You sit up so quick the room spins. Hair fluffing, all cowlicky and messy all over your head. You look first at Yoongi then anxiously between your thighs where the grey fabric of your pajamas has already darkened.

You’re not proud of the way that you slam the bathroom door in Yoongi’s face. His voice is muffled and worried. “It’s alright- it happens with Jin and Jungkook sometimes too, leaking slick is perfectly normal-”

You whine, high-pitched, embarrassed. cutting him off. “Give me a second! I’m fine just-” You keep your hands pressed to the door, holding it closed. Yoongi waits for a breath and the doorknob stops turning. You can hear his sigh from the other side of the door.

Someone opened up the window in the bathroom and you're thankful now- the scent of your slick is not quite so cloyingly sweet. Cold spring air tickles your toes, at odds with the heated flooring.

“Alright, want me to keep the others away?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Your head hits the door. Resting your forehead against the wood.

A bit of slick trails down your thigh, threatening to land on the floor. You make an alarmed noise.

“Can you get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh yeah, shit- Sorry-”

There are bathing suits hanging on the side of the deep tub- from you and Tae and Hobi last night. from when you'd used the hot tub out on the balcony and soaking away your soreness last night. One of them slides to the floor (Tae’s, bright pink, crusted with pearls like a mermaid) as you hobble to the toilet. Feeling embarrassed and thankful that no one’s there to see you.

You’d gotten kissy and overheated in the tub. Water bubbling around you and concealing your wandering hands. Tae’s bathing suit pulled to the side and yours too eventually. Leaving Hobi pink-cheeked and watching from the other side- teasing himself with the distance.

Until they’d both sandwiched you. Bottoms pulled to the side under the water. Both of your alpha's working in tandem. Knots pressing between the chub of your thighs and sometimes up into the slick plush of your pussy lips. Neither of them slipped inside because you’d said you didn’t want it- that you just wanted to be teased.

And tease they had; with Tae’s cock sliding up between your body and the fabric of your bikini, sat upon her lap. Hobi’s mouth, trailing down the front plunge of your bikini and taking it off eventually. Both of them breathing heaving and nibbling.

You’d felt like a chew toy in the best way. Soft- turned on, not nervous, not anxious. Because neither of them seemed to have any intent on fucking you or knotting you or had been at all upset when you said you didn’t want to fuck. That you just wanted to be touched and nothing else.

You really liked it, being touched without it going anywhere. It’s not exactly surprising that you’d had what surely must have been a wet dream after.

Yoongi had complained a bit about having to drain the water out of the tub when you’d come in dizzy and body humming, carefully corraled between your two pink-cheeked alphas, but you know he hadn't actually been upset. Just teasing.

You and Yoongi haven't been intimate in that way since your fight and blow-up and then eventual reconciliation but at least the kisses have been lingering and slow and not without heat. The regular intimacy is back, the cuddling too- and you know it's only a matter of time until that part of your relationship unfurls again.

Neither of you are in any sort of rush. You've taken your last three showers with him, had shampooed his hair and shaved his scratchy chin last shower, with him sitting on the shower bench and you standing between his legs. Yesterday after Tae and Hobi had dragged you into the hot tub.

But he hadn't taken you, even though his eyes had been on you and his hands had touched a little softer, a little longer. and he knew exactly what you'd just been doing with tae and hobi by your scent alone. His cock hadn't been completely soft against his thigh but he hadn't asked or initiated anything. Neither had you.

Granted, You hadn’t wanted to be sore for your and Namjoon’s travel day today. Yoongi is a very very considerate mate and packmate.

Now you sit on the edge of the toilet and pull down your pants, cringing when you see the mess of slick that soaks your pj's and darkens the fabric from grey to black. You wonder if it's just the stress of travel and leaving your pack or if there are other things at play here.

Given how you’d forgotten about your and Namjoon’s first date until several weeks after having made the plans for it- it's a little predictable that you’d also forgotten your plans to go on a little vacation with the pack alpha. Granted you'd made your plans shortly before you’d tried to leave them, and that had also kinda distracted both of you, but tomato tamato.

It’s been three months since all of that went down. Springtime is well on its way. The trees are going to leaf out any moment now and join the blooming cherry blossom and crabapple trees and magnolias that dot your section of town. You can barely walk with Hobi to work anymore without him pointing out the magnolia trees and promising that he'll plant one in your front yard before the summer is over.

Soon but not quite yet.

It’s the blooming trees that had actually inspired your trip with Namjoon; Namjoon got the idea when you’d been driving with him to another doctor’s appointment. You'd been quiet, nervous, nose pressed to the window to watch for trees, and you'd asked him to slow down so that you could look longer at the pink tangles of trees along the waterfront.

Namjoon loves to indulge.

You’d perused Airbnb’s together, knitted close one evening on the couch, a glass of wine and Jungkook’s pinky tucked into one limb and Namjoon pressed close on the other. Tae’s laptop balanced on his thighs and Jin on his other side. Because even if your packmates wouldn't be coming- they still want a hand in the planning. The nosey bunch that they are.

You’d planned it out with Jin watching with hawk eyes and deeming certain packages too pedestrian for you, not fancy enough or not romantic enough. You’d finally landed on a hot spring, up north- apparently known for its secluded views and cherry blossoms at this time of year.

Appropriately bougie and appropriately brief at 3 days and 2 nights but special enough for what Namjoon had dubbed your first anniversary present.

You’d talked about it, tangled up with Namjoon on the front porch under about a dozen blankets just to watch the birds getting fat and happy on spring suet and seeds. Hobi hung up the birdfeeders there just for you and Namjoon to enjoy on your mornings.

You and Namjoon watch the birds often on the front porch, now that it's warm enough to sit out here for extended stretches. With him working so infrequently, you've been able to spend a lot more time with him.

Your love with him has always been slower, gentler than the others. Namjoon loves being delicate with you and loves treating you like the fine china that you are. You feel the delicacy in the way he touches you all the time and in the way that he encourages your slow mornings.

Your mouth rounded out and kissed pink from his mouth a second ago, kissing you when the birds don’t linger near the feeder so that your squeaks don’t spook them. Your shirt pulled up as you slid down the cushion, bare skin that Namjoon’s fingers had teased at. A touch just to touch. Tickling at your ribs until you giggle at him to stop.

Petting up and down your sides, he can’t feel your ribs anymore. Hasn’t been able to in months. He indulges in the feeling of your soft skin while you watch the birds flutter. “I don’t know if we can call May our anniversary, you didn’t kiss me really until June.”

“Doesn’t matter, We met in May.”

You'd snorted, "thats not an anniversary Joonie. What was it love at first sight?"

"No," Namjoon says, honest, but that's why you love him, leaning in nose had pressed against your mating mark, sniffing deeply. Letting out a satisfied grumble. "Maybe home at first sight though. I think I could already feel it- that you and Yoongi were mated. I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.”

Anniversaries and special days aside. The rest of the pack had been predicably jealous when you'd shown them the pictures of the hotel. Not too jealous- because the pack has another vacation in the works at the end of the summer. An idea that’s only just starting to crest their minds. Why shouldn’t they travel now? They don’t have pups- and this might be one of the last summers they have.

Tae had leaned in over Namjoon’s computer, “Wait this is so pretty- and for photos! I want to go look at all the pink” She’d whined. Jimin had just shaken his head and leaned close to press a kiss to her temple to distract her. Almost hitting one of Tae’s space buns in the process.

“We can always go to the botanical gardens for pictures honey.”

“Yeah! That way you can show me when we get back! and we'll have pictures to show each other” You’d chirped, trying to be comforting.

Sometimes in the pack, it’s hard to separate your relationships out into their single pairs, beyond soon-to-be mated pairs and soulmates aside. It’s hard not to want to do everything together.

But getting away with the pack alpha for a few days is probably going to be good for all of you. A day or two apart and some time to decompress. A brief stretch so that you only miss each other more.

To have the pack alpha’s undivided attention is something that you’re both excited and nervous about.

He’s taking you to a resort and hot springs up north. Surrounded by a cherry blossom grove that’s earned its spot at the top of several travel blogs as the number one event to do in the spring. It's not a terribly long trip and mid-week because the rest of the rooms had been booked up for the weekends already. But Namjoon had still insisted that you get a room with an attached private spring. T

here’s a cherry blossom trail on the grounds and a nice dinner planned for tomorrow night. But nothing else planned for the third day beyond your drive home. Namjoon had heard of this cute little roadside bakery that he wanted to stop at on your way for breakfast.

You’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement since last night- your singular suitcase packed yesterday morning by Tae and Jungkook- who had demanded you pack a quite frankly concerning amount of lingerie.

But even you had to admit that this is an undeniably sexy vacation. You hadn’t planned anything beyond your walk and dinner, mostly because you’d both expected to do something else for the majority of your trip.

Mostly having raunchy passionate hotel room sex… not that Namjoon even said explicitly that that's what he wants to do with you on this vacation. But he hadn't exactly not hinted at that either with the private onsen suite.

But looking down at your soiled panties, slick sticky, and darkening the fabric, you feel the least sexy that you have in weeks.

“What the fuck” you mutter. Quiet. Yoongi knocks at the door again. Softer.

“Can I come in?”

“One sec.”

The sound of crumpling toilet paper and Jin cursing downstairs becomes louder. The windows are open up here and down there and you can hear him and the cracking of metal pans against each other. Hobi’s laugh. The sound of the dishwasher going downstairs. Noodle meows at the front door. You can hear all of it. Yoongi’s footsteps back and forth by the door. Quiet words.

Is your hearing overly sensitive? Or are they all just loud?

“Give us a sec Jk, sorry but can you go downstairs for a moment?”

Jungkook’s worried voice, the sound of kisses pressed to his lips, “Sure hyung, going for a run anyway,” Then quieter, so soft that you can’t hear- "Is she alright?”

"Yeah, it’s not nerves if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook breathes in deeply, and lets out a knowing sound as he scents slick on the air. "Want me to keep Jin-hyung away?"

"Please."

This is decidedly not normal for you. Normal for Jungkook sure- he has the most regular dirty dreams out of the whole pack. A few times a week you wake up to the smell of slick, sweet and tempting on the air and more than one alpha tempted to do something about it. Rewarded with Jungkook’s sweet submission when they give in to their temptations.

You've gotten used to his sleepy and quiet ah ah ah's waking you up.

You like morning kisses when Jungkook's getting fucked, it's almost like he forgets how to talk and kiss when he's being dicked down. when you wake up in the morning to gentle repetitive rocking and the sound of soft kisses. Hobi or Tae or Namjoon or Jimin tucked up behind him.

Jungkook likes it best when you pretend like you don't know what they're doing. When you sidle up to his front for a cuddle. You like to hear their croons of "don't be rude to your nestmate Jungkook, give her a good morning kiss." You like tasting Jungkook's shakey sighs against your mouth. Tucking yourself close to him and falling back asleep to the gentle hum of, "You better not cum, you might get the pup all messy, dirty little omega."

You like to be around when they're intimate, it makes you feel like you're still apart of it without any of the fear of being too much or not wanting sex enough. You've been easing up on the fine lines between all of you, on the more free-flowing and free-use parts of your relationship. Starting to explore it safely the way they haven't really had the opportunity too since before you became a part of their pack.

You hadn't really understood free use until jungkook explained it to you.

One afternoon, All of the pups having 'pup time' as Namjoon and Jin had started to call it- but is really just playing Mario cart in the backroom on lazy rainy afternoons. You'd snorted at his explanation. rearranging the plushies in your nesting nook. a note of skeptisizim in your voice.

"I'm not going to just like- push you down and sit on your face? That seems kinda mean Koo."

"For the record the idea of that is really hot." Jimin had tipped his head back, smashing buttons. Tae had hummed agreeing with jimin and combed her long fingers through Jimin's hair while she waits for her turn. Hobi had snorted smashing buttons and clicking.

"It's not mean though- not like mean mean."

Tae's fingers brushing between his legs had distracted him, touching him to tease and feel how hard he is. His little cock a chubby little secret, but jk knows to stay still under Tae's inspection. Jk's little cursor had slipped right off the rainbow road and fallen into space and Tae's hands had slipped off of him too. making him squirm.

"I just like how it feels sometimes, like I'm yours to have and take." Tae continued like nothing was amiss, had pet through his hair as if she hadn't just felt him up. Jungkook's sweet sweet scent is the only tell.

Tae had winked at you over Jungkook's shoulder. "It's kinda like how Namjoon was during a rut right?"

Jungkook's voice was rough, "Right. It's like- I don't know how to explain it- Soothing? That I know you're getting everything you want from me." Jungkook had shaken himself. "You don't have to join in if you don't want too- Hobi doesn't"

You'd turned to Hobi for confirmation, sat closest to you. his back leaned up against the rattan of your nesting nook. Completely focused on the screen and not on your conversation. "I'm like totally lapping you jk."

"No fair, I can't concentrate when I'm talking about sex." The round ends, Hobi wins and Jungkook and Tae swap controllers.

Tae flops down on Jimin's lap, his arms wrapping around her waist and head hooking over her shoulder fluidly. "If I beat you you owe me a kiss."

"Don't make me want to lose. It's not going to work."

"Oh it totally works you just don't want to admit it."

"I'm ready to Loose." Hobi snorts. and is rewarded by a kiss to his cheek.

without a controller, jk looks at you more fully. "We probably won't really start to do it for a little while, at least not not until-" Jungkook falls silent, and the next moment. Yoongi sidles up to the double doors, peering inside smiling at the sight of all of you heaped close. going quiet. "You know you guys could just sit on the couch instead of the floor."

"Not as comfy"

"Do you have room for one more?"

"Hyung you are so on."

Maybe Yoongi's distance with you would be easier to handle if you didn't also know he's been just as distant with the rest of the pack. Sexual needs ebb and flow, desire ebbs and flows too. Not everyone is like Jungkook- constantly in need, constantly simmering heat. Which is one of the reasons why free use for him is less of a want and more of a need. As much as you like to joke that Jungkook is a bit of a nymphomanic, he really does need that kind of gratification to feel loved.

This- the leaking slick, so rarely happens to you and Jin.

This feels disorienting. The bathroom spins. You’d leaked so much slick in your sleep that you’d soaked through your underwear and your pajama pants. they sit in a heap on the floor. Your panties are ruined.

You don’t think it’s just excitement for your trip. You don’t even remember having a dirty dream. You don't feel turned on, dizzy and a little dehydrated.

You can’t put back on your clothes but you tell Yoongi he can come in anyway. Sitting on the top of the toilet, your shirt long enough to cover your bareness but even you have to admit that he’s seen you in far worse states.

He lets out a small alarmed noise but keeps the door cracked behind him. He stoops to the floor to pick up your ruined pajama bottoms, putting them in the laundry. He’s got another pair in his hands and a pair of clean underwear too. He’s alarmed judging by the wide set of his eyes, looking up to your thighs and then your face.

“It’s just the excitement about leaving.” You don't even believe it as it comes out of your mouth.

He stoops and gets on his knees. He puts your feet through the leg holes, fingers on your calves. Humming.

Things have been better between the two of you recently, this isn't strange. Things are going back to the way they where slowly. There’s been little kisses here and there, laughter too; like when you both went out to the beach to stargaze a few weeks ago. just the two of you, a rare lone outing.

The lights were stark and cold up above and Yoongi's smile anything but. His back against the sand and the deep warm sound of his laughter chasing the winter winds away. A Lingering brightness dancing on the edge of your fingers, starlight jumping from your skin to his, close and warm in the night.

"What did you wish for?"

"Nothing"

Then after a moment, you'd admitted it. "For you to be happy"

"I'm already happy sweetheart"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Guess I wasted my wish then."

"I think you can make another wish, that one doesn’t count."

"Okay." A beat, a breath, a kiss to your cheek.

"Did you do it yet?"

"Yoongi-"

He still takes care of you- although the intention behind each action brews a little more balanced than before. He takes care of you and you take care of him too. You hold his latter when he gets up on it to paint, and hand him tools when Hobi’s car needs a tune-up. You follow him around the house the same way he used to follow you around.

You've begun minding his health the same way the others mind yours- you'd made him take vitamin C when he started coughing in mid-March. And nursed him through the unglamorous episode and illness that followed.

You'd held his hand while Namjoon had listened to his lungs and pouted at him each time he tried to get up when he should have been resting. Made him soup and babied him for the week he'd spent coughing and then cuddled him through his fever. Kept him plied with ice water and cough drops and miraculously hadn't caught the same mystery illness.

You’ve been trying to find a middle ground, a new kind of honesty that you hadn’t had before. He takes care of you now just as much as you take care of him.

Now, Yoongi’s hand hovers on your ankle. On his knees in front of where you sit and you’re nearly at eye level with him. You watch his nostrils flare, and his lips descend into a frown as he looks between your thighs. If it were anyone else you'd feel self-conscious.

“What are you thinking?”

Yoongi hesitates before he speaks his suspicion into life. He knows the power his words have and the joy that they have the possibility of ripping away. It's not just your high hopes he's worried about but Namjoon's too.

“Do you think you could be going into heat?”

Your stomach flips, but you instantly shake your head.

When you think internally, You feel no warmth, no wanting in your gut or instincts. You rub your hands over your face. Yoongi hesitates before getting up and washing his hands. Looking at you in the mirror.

“No, I don’t feel-” Your hand hovers over your stomach, and downstairs some pans clatter, and Jin curses loudly again. The pack awaits. You can hear Namjoon’s voice downstairs too. “It could be nothing. It was probably just a dream.”

You cover your face with your hand, quieting the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Turning around to rest against the sink and look at you, drying his hands slowly. You give him space to say something but when he stays silent you have to ask.

“Do you want me to cancel the trip? I can tell Namjoon, he'd understand.”

He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he comes close again, making an alarmed noise when he sees the goosebumps on your thighs and dropping back to his knees, putting your feet through the holes of the clean pj’s and pulling them up slowly. Tender. His fingers hover on your calves treading higher and higher to the sensitive skin on the inside of your knees.

You have a bruise there, from roughhousing with Jk yesterday morning. A battle over prime nesting material you had not won (you'd been happy to lose when the punishment was being manhandled and several hickeys on various parts of your body. Jungkook likes to nibble.)

Yoongi's thumb covers the bruise in its entirety. “How far is the drive again?”

“Three hours.” Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip and it takes him a second to debate it internally

“You could come home, if something went wrong, Namjoon would drive you home.” Someone is coming up the stairs, you can hear the creek of the old wood, and you won't have your privacy for much longer.

You lean forward, hitting your forehead with his. “Yeah. You’re right.” Yoongi pecks your nose and stands up, stashing the last of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket where the smell of slick won’t be noticed.

Tae knocks the same second that you pull up your pants. Just in time, you’ll have to undress anyway to shower- but you don’t need her wondering why you and Yoongi are cleaning up your slick and hiding it from the others.

Tae grins from the cracked door once she sees it's just you and Yoongi, nudging it open with her toe completely unaware of the trouble brewing. If she notices the scent of your slick on the air she doesn't say anything. Her hips sway as she leans up against the door. Hands behind her back, holding something grinning at you.

“Can I pick out your outfit?”

“Something tells me you already have; I need to shower first.”

Tae has been taking a lot more free reign when it comes to you and your outfits. It's the one thing you had been interested in when Jungkook had first started to ask about free use. The one thing you'd been curious about.

You'd raised your eyebrow at it the first time you'd noticed Jin and tae set out Jungkook's workout set before work. Shivered and watched as they palmed and tugged and dressed him before letting him go with a kiss and a small tap to his bottom. Jungkook had that wide hazy look in his eyes, a slack grin on his mouth, subspace or omegaspace or some tangle of the two.

You'd been stuttering and unsure, "can we, can you- would you choose my clothes for me too?"

Both of them, Jin and Tae, had stood up straighter, both of them near purring- like they'd been waiting for you to ask. (You haven't forgotten and neither have they- how you call Jinnie daddy and Tae mommy. Although you've begun to use the latter name more casually with Tae).

You are still warming up to it, but Tae's been setting out your clothing most mornings and Jin's been selecting your pj’s each night. Your and Jin's routine usually comes with a hole check and settling if you ask for it nicely (a cock and knot if you ask even more nice, if jin checks your hole and finds you warm and wet and wanting)

While the clothing is not entirely a dominance thing, that needy gleam in their eyes is unmistakable. With Jin, you can almost tell yourself that it's just his grooming instincts, but with tae- the clothing is a little different.

You don’t mind that she likes it, deciding what you wear and how you wear it. You don’t mind that she finds some satisfaction from it- some instinct fulfilled, some pleasure gained. You don’t mind maybe because it’s her and she has good taste, because she so often chooses what you want to wear anyway.

And because, as she so often reminds you, you can tell her no at any time without fear of anger or punishment.

Panties or no panties? A matching set or a soft playsuit for lounging around and nesting? A lacy little bralette or nothing at all?

Actually- I'm going to go for a walk with Hobi today, to the beach. Can I wear one of alpha's sweatshirts?

Of course you can sweetheart.

Maybe because it’s one less decision you have to make, one more way you can let her take care of you. Tae packed your suitcase for this trip because of this newfound sense of give and control.

It's not all endless giving. Tae often checks with you before she does anything too risky.

Tae hadn't been interested in any dominance and submission before you, the one vanilla packmate before her transition. But now that it's here and it's with you, Tae wants and wants and wants. Some of the stuff like with safewords and aftercare she's well acquainted with, but other things are newer for both of you. You know she talks with Namjoon and Jin about it, you know that they are both guiding her with this and teaching her how to be a good dom.

Many evenings Jin looks and inspects what Tae has put you in, their attention makes you shiver and stand straighter, "what a good choice Tae-baby, my good little alpha making our omega so pretty."

One morning blends into another, one morning she doesn't decide at all and then the next she stands there and asks. "Can I push you today?"

You'd squirmed and sat in the dressing room, waiting, negotiating. Jin had already given you a hole check that morning and promised there would be another one later with a heavy look. like he knew before what tae is going to try and do. You'd needed a hole check too- you'd woken up whiney and in omegaspace, sweet and in need of someone to steady your instincts.

"Yes."

You'd stuttered when she'd showed you the dress, the short short hem, fumbled even more when she told you that you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath, that you wouldn't be going anywhere either until someone found out.

(Jimin had been the lucky packmate. Pulling you down onto his lap during breakfast, his bare thighs thick in his shorts. Your cries of "Minnie wait-" came too late when. His raised eyebrows had drawn more than one packmate's attention as he'd held your waist. Stopped you from squirming. his bare skin against your bare skin and wetness, because Tae knew, tae knew and she-

"What is it?" Namjoon had asked. Tae was doing nothing more than grinning and sipping her coffee over his shoulder, watching the situation that she created unfold with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Jimin's fingers had lingered on the hem of your dress. Glancing from you to Tae. "Why don't you come and see hyung?")

Now she holds out a folded dress to you, “guilty.”

You sigh, but Yoongi holds out his hand, helping you stand. You reach for the brush on the counter but Tae beats you to it, standing behind you. So close you can feel her heat down your spine.

You shiver.

“Guys I can-“

“Nonsense, Mommy will do it.” Tae doesn’t let you lift a finger. And you guess you shouldn’t really be all that fussy or shy, you stay still while Tae detangles your hair and Yoongi starts the shower and sets out your towel and a pair of warm long socks that sit in a heap on top of your folded dress. They won’t have a chance to baby you for the rest of the week (or at least not until Friday when you get home) so you let them take what they can get.

It's not all sexual, it's loving too.

Tae detangles your hair gently, so soft that you're tempted to close your eyes again, especially with the warm steam filling the room. Yoongi stays close, watching you as he stands by the sink and talks to Tae about their plans for tomorrow. Distant plans that you are aware of.

Yoongi's quickly distracted from actually helping you shower by a shout from Hobi downstairs but he doesn't leave without kissing your forehead first. You undress and Tae washes her face and does her skincare routine while you shower. Chatting to you again about your itinerary for today with how she talks you’d almost think that she was coming with but she isn’t.

Today is just for you and Namjoon, the whole weekend really. She’s as excited for you to have some time with Namjoon as you are, maybe even a little bit more excited than you are.

She’s probably just thinking of the outfits.

You're still kind of tired, still kind of half asleep. The steam in the bathroom makes you feel hazy, Tae has to remind you every few seconds not just to lean against the tile under the spray and actually wash your hair. It's just so warm, so nice, here under the warm water surrounded by the scent of her and Yoongi. You paw at the nob to the shower turning it warmer. Sighing when it goes hot.

You must have nodded off for a moment because the rush of cold air from the big glass door opening shocks you into almost slipping. Your hands hit the wet tile to steady yourself. She leans around you, avoiding the water and turning it colder.

“your skin is getting red!” She's alarmed, but not angry as you blink down at your arms and your chest- turned splotchy.

“Yeah, shit, I didn’t realize,” Tae watches you warily, sucking on her lower lip before she prattles on.

"'You're like really sleepy today,"

"Yeah," you say, voice hushed,

"Excited though?" she double-checks.

You grin, dopey "Yeah."

After that everything feels a little hazy, maybe it’s the temperature of the house or just Tae being close. She moves you from the bathroom to the dressing room giggling as you almost bump into the walls, keeping your towel tucked even as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I really think I need some coffee," you say as you rub your eyes and Tae dots cream over your flushed cheeks. Her answering hum does not promise caffeine.

"In a second, I'm almost done. You can close your eyes while I do your makeup if you need to." You try to fight your drowsiness- you really do. But soon the scent at the apex of her shoulder and neck temps you too much and you squirm closer and closer in search of her warmth.

Tae put you in a robe when you got out of the shower but you still feel so cold. So needy. You squirm until you're sat across her thighs, each knee on either side of her hips in your familiar position. Whining when she finishes your skincare and has to scoot back to do your hair taking your only source of warmth with her.

Her giggle makes you want to bear your throat to her. "I can't curl your hair and cuddle you at the same time pup." You whine, but she's immune, "Be good." a small warning in her tone.

You straighten up, blinking hazily up at her and letting her detangle herself from you to stand, until she tells you that you can close your eyes again.

Your head lolls while she blow-dries your hair, tugged from side to side by the round brush. Tae's giggles and voice are a lullaby. The warm air from the drier sends more and more of her scent fluttering over your nose.

She reaches to pin your hair back and you nuzzle into her wrist. “Pup” she stresses. But you get away with it.

Tae keeps the makeup light; a bit of strawberry-colored blush deepening the flush on your cheeks, faint concealer.

She starts to dress you, pulling the underwear up your thighs and hips with a soft barely there kiss pressed over them that makes you squirm. She tugs the socks up to your mid thigh and guides your arms through the sleeves and over your head. The thick fabric feels a little like a blanket over your knees. Tae pulls it down until it covers all of you.

You don’t bother to look in the mirror quite yet, still nodding off every now and then as she sprays hairspray to set your soft curls in place. "There we go- you're perfect."

Her fingers on your cheeks prompt you to open your eyes and when you do, you find you're sitting in front of the vanity. Tae's behind you, her dark silk robe at odds with the light flutter of your dress. One of her arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other grips your face, turning your face from side to side to show off her handy work. Her fingers pinch just enough that your lips stick out. Red but hazy around the edges like your lipstick got kissed off or maybe kissed on- it's hard to tell.

You look like a doll; You look pretty (you always look pretty once Tae has had her way with you).

"What do you say pup?" Tae and Jin have both ganged up on you a bit recently about your manners. You don’t mind her sternness if anything it just makes you feel smaller and more pupish- both things you like feeling around Tae.

"Thank you, Mommy." You pout, and Tae rewards you with a soft kiss that makes you squirm. her fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"You're welcome, honey. Let’s go show our boys what they're missing."

~-~

Tall dark boots wait for you by the door, another gift from Tae. Side by side with your suitcase. Prepared and waiting.

You giggle and tug her on down the stairs, going a little fast, ignoring her cries of "pup, slow down" The excitement builds until you hit the bottom step and almost slip, the socks from Yoongi fluffy and slick, Tae makes to grab you and the two of you tumble straight into Namjoon.

The pack alpha lets out a quiet oof.

It's a good thing he's so tall and strong, both of his arms shoot out to steady you.

You blink up at him, and his big hands hover on your shoulders. Dancing along the back plunge of the dress. It’s a baby doll style, checkered pink and blue. the front is boatnecked, but the back plunges open, tied closed with a bow. Namjoon touches your skin through the low backline. his palm rough and warm.

Namjoon steps back for a second. Making a pleased noise. Looking you up and down, “Look at you pup.”

Tae just leans back against the railing and preens. You look to the left and into the mirror.

You look so small compared to Namjoon and Tae. Doe-eyed and like something out of a cottage core fantasy in your outfit. It’s a little doll-like in cut and style, the bow on the back almost coquettish. Namjoon’s wide hands cover the open panel of your back. Running up and down again. You can feel his grumbly purr of satisfaction against your chest.

Tae tugs down the bottom hem of your dress. You sway.

Namjoon has put a bit more effort into his outfit today too. His jeans are new and his sneakers are the first pair of non medical grade non-slip ones he’s owned in years. He’s wearing a plane tee under a button-down, just his usual uniform since he’s started spending more and more time at home and only working 3 days a week. You bury your face in the front of Namjoon’s shirt, nosing aimlessly.

He looks every picture of a pack alpha, big and imposing. Unafraid of taking up space. The pack alpha grins down at you, all but bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement. The sight of him makes you leak slick again. Just a little. you wonder if both of your alpha’s can smell it.

Really- what is going on?

“Tae, you-”

Namjoon’s tongue-tied but Tae just smiles, small, at the corner of her mouth in that special secret way that girls smile. She curls a lock of your hair around one of her fingers. “You’re welcome Joonie”

Namjoon squishes you a little harder to his chest in cute aggression and you feel your chest squish too. Huh, Tae didn’t put you in a bra. you're not upset just confused- obviously, you're gonna want to sleep on the drive and wearing one all that way would be uncomfortable but Your hand comes up, feeling.

“You fussed,” she says, “didn’t want it.” Reading your mind is just one of Tae’s many talents, but you blink. You like the way that the dress billows out, not hugging your body. The darts on the side still give the effect of hugging your figure without it being tight.

You peak up at him and Namjoon's blushing, so you hide your face in his chest instead of confronting it. His hand crests your shoulder pulling you in closer, giving you permission to rub your face in harder. You scent him sleepy until your breath is hitching.

Noodle yowls and slips through your ankles, purring and trailing after Hobi who just huffs happily, watching the three of you from the living room before he continues plucking blankets off the couch, a half-full basket of laundry in his clutches that he ferries down to the basement.

Namjoon's dimples are little crescent moons to the star of his smile when you pull back. immeidatly ducking back down when the sight of him overwhelmes you. “Having fun down there?” He teases.

“Yes,” you reply stubbornly and he laughs, his stomach pushing out against your sternum. You bury your face back in his shirt again, harder this time. Too shy to meet the pure adoration in his eyes.

“I’ve just got to put the suitcase and my bag in the car and then we’ll be ready to go okay? Wanna get us some coffee?” You nod, and he pecks your forehead before detangling himself from you.

"Tae!" Hobi calls from the basement. "Can you get me your dirty laundry please?" Hobi, "Jk wants to do it when he gets home but I don't want him carrying anything down the stairs." Tae sighs and heads back upstairs.

A loud clang and more cursing interrupts you where you’re standing in the entryway. But it’s just Jinnie. You follow the source of the noise to the kitchen, hovering unsure by the kitchen island.

If you had a good night's sleep last night- it looks like Jin had the opposite.

Jinnie doesn’t look like his usually perfectly curated omega this morning; his striped robe has stains on the hems. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes are puffy. His coffee cup leaves rings where it sits on the countertop like his hands had been shaky when he set it down.

He's got about a dozen bags of flour- semolina and almond, caster sugar and regular sugar taking up every available space in the kitchen. Along with just about everything from the confines of your fridge too. He looks like he's half way between breakfast and a deep clean. Even though it's already almost 10.

You watch as he sighs and rubs a hand across his face furrowing his eyebrows when he thinks that no one’s watching. You sidle up behind him and he jumps a few feet in the air, “pup- I didn’t-” You nudge his shoulder with your nose (a special little omegan hello). Jin exhales, and his shoulders relax, no longer up to his ears.

"What are you looking for?" It's the wrong thing to ask. Jin puffs back up almost instantly. The mirror image of Noodle when there's a fly he just can't seem to catch.

Jin pulls the coffee mugs down from where they sit, one after another, putting them down a little hard and quick. "The syrup! I don't know who put it away last but when I find out who did I'll-"

You smile, and wordlessly go over to the sink, opening the door and bending down to reach around in the cleaning supplies, pulling it from all the way in the back with a quiet ah-ha!

"Oh, you-" Jin blinks down at you a little stunned. Then bristles, voice going darker. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did you put it there?"

You are not intimidated at all by Jin's pack omega shenanigans or his grumpiness this early in the morning. Smiling up at him absolutely unbothered by his sour mood. "No, you did!"

Jin pouts, gesturing at you to explain, you shrug and set it on the counter. "It looks the same as a bottle of cleaning supplies, and the last time you gave the kitchen a deep clean you weren't wearing your glasses."

"Oh." Jin's lips are a near-perfect circle, plush where they pout, annoyed with himself. "Thank you." You get up on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek and dart past him to put your sourdough starter and semolina flour away very very carefully.

Jin starts to undo the rest of his whirlwind, leaving out some of the ingredients so that he can get started on the pancakes. The house is quiet for now, the two of you work side by side in companionable silence.

When you're done, Jin wipes his hands on the cloth. “Do you have everything you need before you go?”

You nod, and Jin's shoulders deflate, leaning up against the counter, he barely manages to hide his crushed expression before he turns away and starts to get to work on the pancakes. He pulls a metal bowl down from the shelf without a word whereas he'd usually ask you for help with it- and starts adding eggs to it indiscriminately, cracking them with one hand.

“Jinnie?” You ask quietly. The eggs go tap-crack-plop. The pack omega hums, but doesn’t look up from the bowl. Pausing after the first few eggs to break the yolks with a large whisk. The scrape of metal against metal jarring.

“Do you, uhm-” his eyebrows are furrowed concentrating on what he’s doing, “Do you want us to stay home today?”

Jin looks up so quickly that he almost cracks the next egg onto the countertop instead of in the bowl. “What! No- what gave you that idea?” Jin sets the bowl down and reaches for you, but you look at his fingers, sticky, and the rest of him- covered with flour. The dress Tae put you in is new, and the flour will surely show.

Jin washes his hands, and dries them, while you get two travel mugs down from the shelf. One green travel mug for Namjoon and a pink one for you. He dries his hands in the cloth while he watches you.

Tae's really really mean, making you look so pretty before you'll leave for so long. Three days. That will be your longest absence from the house, the den, and Jin's nest since the beginning.

Jin feels a little like he's choking. Like his skin is crawling. You're not even going to eat breakfast with them. Even back when Jin still had his day job with the Fbi. Breakfast is your ritual.

Jin lets out a shakey breath, “Of course I want you to go and have fun pup. You and Namjoon have been looking forward to this for weeks.” You pour out coffee and then enough milk into both your and Namjoon’s travel mugs.

“I know, but that wouldn’t mean anything if you wanted us to stay- you seem-” You glance up at him, and miss the next dollop of milk in Namjoon’s cup, getting it all over the counter. “Shit.”

Jin just hums and uses his cloth to whip it up. Almost pinning you to the counter in the process, leaning around you so that he’s sandwiching you in on all sides. His chin hits the top of your head. And when he’s done you flip around looking up at him.

“You’re-” you choose your words carefully, “you’re off today?” he can hear the question in your voice. Tucking an errant hair behind your ear. But he’s not disagreeing with you. You continue to pry. “You feel like Mini does when he’s having a bad sensory day?”

“Yeah,” Jin breathes in and out, and it looks like it takes him effort. You wait for him to say that he needs you, that he really doesn’t want you to go, that the idea of having you outside of the nest is not something that he can handle today.

“Make sure Namjoon texts me when you get there okay? And I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight and show me your nest. If you want to pack some blankets or stuff that smells like us you should- don’t worry about missing the traffic- and- and-”

Hobi thuds up the stairs from the basement, an empty laundry basket in his hands.

“Hey no stealing her-” he wags his fingers, Jin pouts at your alpha, and you watch his eyes follow Hobi. You watch Hobi’s eyes flicker down your body and then back up to your face, and Jin’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Hobi she’s my pup-” but Hobi just wags his finger, you’ve never seen him even try to put Jin in his place before let alone scold him.

Is everyone feeling a little bit off kilter, or is it just you?

“Technically he’s not stealing me, technically I’m stealing his alpha.” Hobi senses the guilty lilt in your voice and shakes his head. Jin pecks your forehead, lingering for just a little bit longer than he might ordinarily before he steps back to his bowl, and adds a dark splash of vanilla to the creamy contents.

“No he's going to get substantially babied by his other three alphas-Jiminie and I are taking everyone out for dinner tomorrow tonight so that no one has to cook or anything- we’re gonna go to one of Tae’s fancy poetry readings and stuff.”

“Oh,” you say. You sort of like Tae’s poetry, sort of love watching her play around with words like she’s a little kid in a sandbox. Two seconds ago, you’d been worried that Jin would feel left out and now-

“Can you check the oil in your car before they leave?” Jin asks. Hobi’s eyes flicker to his and then yours.

“Yeah, when are you guys heading out?”

You pout, feeling guilty, “sort of right now.”

“Oh shit. I thought-” Hobi shakes his head, and for a second you think you see something like disappointment cross his features. “I’ll do it now.”

Hobi has graciously allowed you to borrow his car for the weekend because of its spacious and easy-to-travel interior. Namjoon loads your suitcases into the Lambo while Hobi grabs a wad of paper towels and makes him promise not to ding it- he only just got all the scratches from Jimin buffed out and freshly painted.

Yoongi lingers with you by the front door, watching Hobi pop the hood. Your hands tangled for a second and he drags you in. His cheek resting on top of your head for a second, while you rub your chin across his collarbones, scenting him before you go.

But Namjoon is already waiting by the car, watching you with a soft smile.

Hobi tops the oil off and slowly walks to the front porch, almost like he's prolonging your departure by going as slow as possible. You give a small shiver as the breeze rustles the birdfeeders and the windchimes casting your scent in his direction. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart from you to Yoongi who ever so subtly shakes his head.

Hobi walks up the stairs to you, sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows, curling his hand around your elbow in passing. “One sec- wait.” Namjoon rests his chin on the hood of the car, both your cups steaming into the open air. Yoongi taps his fingers against the balcony railing, and for a second you think he’s going to ask you to stay, that the worry of you going into heat is too much.

But then he doesn’t. You stand close enough to him that his elbow brushes yours.

“Take pictures,” he tells Namjoon. The pack alpha’s cheeks go pink and you make a face. “Yah not those kinds of pictures!” But your mate is smiling and that’s all you need for the last of your nerves to dissipate.

“Love you,” you say without looking at him.

“Love you too, please call.” He looks down at you.

“I will.”

Hobi comes back, he’s got a tangle of fabric in his hands, a scarf of Tae’s, and a hat of his. “It’s not that cold.” You try and wine. “It’s gonna be warm at the hot springs.” Hobi leans down to your level, purposefully pulling his hat over your eyes roughly probably messing up your hair. You whine "My hair- Hobi-" He just grins down at you.

“Do you want to take my jacket? How about some mittens?”

“Guys” You roll your eyes at your packmates, but Yoongi and Hobi wear twin grins. “It is like maybe 50 degrees. Jungkookie went running when it was 30 yesterday.”

“Jungkookie runs all the time.”

“He did it in shorts and without a shirt.” Hobi just messes up your hair again, rubbing around the hat and probably causing a fair amount of frizz. So much for tae's hard work.

“I’ve got the heat warmer on already!” Namjoon calls, and you give your last goodbye kisses before hurring after him down the steps.

“Bye!”

“have fun!”

“Be safe!”

You ignore the tight feeling in your chest as you pull away from the house, ignoring the same way that Yoongi- still standing on the porch, starts breathing heavily. His eyes going a bit wild, panicking just a tiny tiny bit. Hobi wraps his arms around him in a hug and holds him through the anxiety. You are already down the street when Hobi lets go.

"Breath hyung, it's just a few days, she'll be back by Friday."

"Yeah, Friday." Yoongi replies sullenly.

“She’s gonna be fine hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, staring after you.

~-~

You fall asleep sometimes after the little roadside bakery. it was just as cute as Namjoon promised, with a pink interior and a whole bunch of different scones and muffins and cupcakes. A small purple box of them in the back of the car sloshes with the movement of the backcountry roads. a full belly of half-finished treats, blueberry scones, and coffee cake muffins, lulls you to sleep in the warm interior of the car.

Namjoon’s soft presence in the driver’s seat and his hand on your thigh does wonders to settle you from the fraught feeling that you’d had while leaving the house. Really, you don't know what you were so worried about.

Namjoon leans over when traffic’s paused, to wipe a tiny crumb from your cheek. Smiling softly. Is this how Hobi feels when he goes on drives with you? Namjoon can see why he likes it- watching your head lull, the soft sound of your breathing, and your sweet scent building and building in the contained interior of the car until Namjoon’s lungs ache with it.

You sleep almost the whole way, only waking when the sun is low in the sky and the scenery is starting to go all moss green and pretty. The country roads are not as maintained here- and the wheels of the lambo start to thud and bump over potholes and cracks. One particularly heavy thud makes you rouse.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and you sip from the water bottle and yawn, Your eyelashes feel so heavy. Gone is suburban sprawl and the lights from distant cities. You bob and weave through switchbacks and steep hills. The thick clouds cover the scenery like a blanket. Maybe it’s mist or steam?

It feels like you too are covered with something heavy and hazy.

The onsen is a tangle of buildings deep in a grove of tall pine trees. The forest is dark green and dotted with bright splotches of pink, the whole drive up to the front is lined with them. it's so pretty you press your cheek to the window. You’re not feeling any more awake by the time you roll up to the front of the onsen and Namjoon parks and tells you that you can stay inside while he checks in.

It’s a traditional style building with thick black tiled roofs and smooth polished wooden beams. Deep dark streams run from building to building, and a covered path crisscrosses back and forth. people walk past in white fluffy robes, clutching grey towels to their chests.

A child somewhere giggles, and your eyes flutter closed, leaning your cheek on the door, nose poked out the open window. You can feel the heat from here.

Namjoon gets your keys and your directions to your room from the kind elderly omega at the front. Your suite is at the edge of the property, secluded and far away from the communal baths that require bathing suits. But Namjoon booked this suite for a reason- because it’s private, you don’t need to separate by secondary gender at all.

You don't even need to wear your bathing suits if you don't want too.

It is far away from the main building though, by the time he pulls the car up to the front you have nodded off again, the warm air tickling your face. Hobi’s hat is discarded in your lap.

It’s really warm here, that must be why you fall asleep so easily, right?

You can feel the bob of Namjoon’s steps, his arms underneath you. The feeling of warm air billowing tickles your face. Your arms weakly wind around his neck, when Namjoon sets you on your feet and you teeter, still half asleep.

“Sorry pup, I just need to shut the door.” Namjoon steers you gently towards the bed and you blink, looking up at him, a little out of it. Yawning so wide and long that your jaw pops.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t seem to wake up.”

“You’re a little scent drunk- it’s okay.” Namjoon presses a glass of water into your hands and you look around your hotel room.

The smooth dark floor compliments the white walls and earth tones of the furniture. The onsen staff were nice enough to open the doors to your courtyard and warm sweet air rolls in along with the steam. From your bed (king-sized, but smaller than you’re used to since your bed at home is two king-sized smushed together) you can see out into the courtyard.

The wide room looks out over onto a courtyard, a deep inset pool on the floor with water that flows freely from one suite to the others- quartered off between units by high wooden fences. Great swathes of grasses and half a dozen tall weeping cherry trees rim the edge of your courtyard.

Grown in and gnarled. They have to have been here longer than you've been alive. Thick roots push up the soil and the grasses and the tiled edge of the pool on the far side. Long tendrils of pink flowers flutter, you have to stand up and go to the opening to get closer.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Namjoon offers, close behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to rest against his chest while you look out at the deep pool. The dark green tile camouflages the bottom and makes the pink petals stand out. Its calm surface dances with flower petals and steam. It’s probably chest-high on Namjoon at its deepest.

“It’s so peaceful,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. Nothing beyond the gentle falling petals and your alpha’s breathing behind you disturbs it. Namjoon's thumbs rub up and down your elbows. His nose trails down the side of your throat.

“Apparently the hot water helps the cherry trees bloom a lot more vibrantly.”

“Do you think Hobi would plant us one of these if we asked him?”

“I think he’d do it the second you said you wanted it. Even if it was 3 in the morning, he’d start digging.”

You giggle and relax back into his touch.

They’re beautiful. You chose the perfect time of year because there’s still countless blossoms on the trees and yet big bunches have gathered on the outdoor patio, some even flutter inside falling like snow.

You squeal, and suddenly with more energy, Namjoon laughs as you pick up a big handful of petals and blow them in his face. "Oh no you don't- this is war!" He stoops, picks up his own handful and you go like that, throwing blossoms at each other like they're snowballs until you're both covered in pink. Giggling and clinging to each other. Namjoon picks one from your eyelashes.

"Wait! Yoongi wanted pictures." You send one to the group chat, your cheek smushed to Namjoon's cheek, both of you covered with tiny pink petals. Namjoon turns and kisses one off your cheek, and the resulting photo ends up becoming his home screen eventually.

“Want to put on our bathing suits?” You nod jauntily, starting to move in the direction of your suitcases to get them but Namjoon shakes his head. “Stay put, I’ll get them.” He pauses for a second, trailing his nose up the side of your throat again, eyebrows furrowed. your whole body goes shivery. He crosses the room to the suitcase while you hide your blush, turning away to watch the cherry blossoms flutter in another strong breeze.

But then there’s a crash and you look back.

Namjoon’s standing pink-cheeked. Looking down at the tangle of clothes and your suitcase upended on the floor. Looking from you to the pile and the rivers of pink and purple and pastel lace upended out onto the floor. The lingerie that Tae packed for you that Namjoon was definitely not supposed to see until they actually got on your body.

You stoop to get them before he can, shoving them back inside. Cheeks aflame. “Tae- she- I don’t know why she-”

“It’s okay- ugh- uhm” Namjoon is so red you think he might be transmuting into a tomato. Namjoon swallows hard, picks up his swim trunks from the floor and you wheel your luggage into the bathroom, a strappy thong gets tangled in one of the wheels and you drag it with a loud squeak until it's inside.

You shut the door but the damage is already done. You let out a quiet embarrassed whine.

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff so that it doesn't get any more wrinkles. shaking off your embarrassment. It's just Namjoon, he's seen you in your lingerie before.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon nocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared.

You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled. Out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your blood.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little. but you don't let Tae off that easy. “Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark purr.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect. Love you. Have fun. Make sure Namjoon gets a nosebleed.”

“Love you too, tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

~-~

Namjoon does what Tae expected when you open the door.

He’s standing by the edge of the bed looking at his phone, tapping away while you stand, waiting. “I ordered us food, I know it’s a little early but we’re so far away from town, I just thought-”

He looks up at you and promptly drops his phone. He tries to catch it but fails. Then he tries to lean down to grab it and smacks his head on the bed.

It’s soft, so he sort of bounces back up.

He grips his forehead and you cover your giggle with your hand. “Sorry I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay?”

“Totally fine. Yup. Totally- really good-“ and his mouth goes dry at the away of your hips walking over to him. Namjoon’s red all the way from his collar to his ears.

After a moment of just staring at you he tears off his shirt, over his head, quick. His hair is all fluffy and spikey when he comes out the other side. “It’s like really hot in here, right? Not just me, right?"

You blink up at him. Your grin already teasing.

"That was not a pick-up line.” He tries to justify. Panicked.

“Sort of sounded like a pick-up line.”

Namjoon stares at your face, “I’m trying really hard not to look down. It’s taking like- all of my brain power.”

You put your arms behind your back, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. “You can look if you want.”

Namjoon does look, eyes drifting from string to string, words tangling behind his bitten lips. You can hear the growl build in his throat. He crosses his arms, biting his fist in an effort not to say something stupid as you twirl and show him your bikini. When you look back, his knuckles bear the red imprints of his teeth.

“Sorry, let me start again- you look great. Awesome- 5 stars, want to swim with you so hard- I mean bad! I thought maybe I should order food, so I did that- order food. I know I should have asked you what you want to eat but I just got like- a lot of food instead. And I also door-dash candy because you like sweet stuff for dessert. but the main house sells buns until 8 pm- not that they could be better than your buns- I mean the red bean buns you make a home! Not your butt- I mean that’s really nice too. I mean- shit- I mean-”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“I’ll stop talking yeah. Probably a good idea,” Namjoon leaves his phone on the floor, watching you, blinking like he doesn’t quite believe his eyes. Traceing the strings that cross your body. “Fucking hell-”

In a moment of bravery, you reach back and pull at the strings, and a sound dies in Namjoon’s throat as it falls off of you string by string. You keep eye contact with Namjoon the whole time. You watch him swallow hard, and it seems like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You reach to the side of your hip and pull at those strings too and the rest falls to the floor.

Namjoon forcefully keeps his eyes on your face, But his eyes are dark and gentle, honey and vibrant with the force of his wanting, lips parting in an unsteady breath.

“Fuck”

You turn and walk into the pool, not looking back at him as you go. your heart thundering in your ears as you struggle not to trip or slip on the smooth decking and then grab onto the railing like a lifeline and lower yourself into the dark water.

The onsen water is clear and clean- warm almost to the point of being too hot and stinging your skin. But some part of you, the same part of you that had you turning belly down in the nest earlier, loves the warmth and wants to roll around in it. Easing in with a sigh, looking back at him, your hair tickling your shoulders wet.

You don’t speak, and neither does he as he walks to the edge of the decking, following you as if he’s in a trance.

Namjoon stands there for a moment. And then he stoops, pulls down his swimming trunks too, somehow manages not to trip over them while he steps out of them in the process. And you can’t stop your flickering eyes south.

You lean your cheek up against the smooth wood decking and look up at him.

He's almost all the way hard, your pulse quickens at the way his cock lies against his thigh, the way he twitches just a little under your gaze. you push back and float into the middle of the pool.

He follows you in and when he moves through the dark water in your direction you don’t move back. you let him scoop you up and pull your slick body against this. Both of you bare, both of you hidden beneath the dark water. He feels so good, hard and strong and familiar against your front. The last of your fear disappears the second Namjoon touches you and you remember.

For a second you think his hands are going to slide south to grab at your ass, your chest, or anywhere else- but he doesn't. Namjoon doesn't make to kiss you, he just holds you to his chest, hugging you bare. The same way he hugs you in the morning, at night when he gets home. You're nude, but instead of making to have you. For a second Namjoon just holds you.

Safe.

“You know, even though we’re nude we don’t need to- if you don’t-” he pauses and you watch Namjoon war with what this calls for too. A very sexy vacation usually means lots of filthy nasty sex but-

Namjoon’s pectorals in the water cause little ripples. You wind your arms around his neck pressing yourself closer. The water might be warm, but it's him you reach for and cling to in the water.

“Can we just stay here for a while? Just close like this?”

“Yeah,” His voice sounds so husky, so rough, his nose traces yours, but he doesn't lean in to kiss you. Just holding you is enough. There will be more than enough time for kisses later. “Yeah, I like the idea of that.”

Namjoon takes you to the deep end, still holding you up, past the point where your feet can touch the bottom. The warm water and his warm body around you feels so good. You can feel his hard cock pressed between you and your stomach (it’s kind of hard to ignore the literal third leg that Namjoon has) but there’s no rush to do anything about it as he holds you. No rush to abandon the quiet and the gently falling dusk.

The pink petals that dance on the surface of the hot water like stars dance upon the night sky. The steam rises up around you and water gathers on Namjoon’s lower lip.

Namjoon does not try and touch you, he doesn’t slide his hands down to your ass, he just pulls back to look at you and yet keeps you snug. Your nipples are hard, brush his skin, and you hiss, sensitive. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to do anything but hold you in the water.

He sways on his tippy toes, and you kick your feet a little, he has a good hold on you but just barely, laughing softly. He meanders back to where it's shallow and he can hold you properly, an apology in his smile. You've got one hand around the back of his neck, your cheek resting against his chest listening to the rabbit hum of his heartbeat, your eyes drooping a little, eyelids heavy.

His hand pets through your hair, tangling at the nape of your neck. Cradling you close. “Thank you for coming all this way with me, I really wanted this, just-” His arms tighten around you, “Just this. Physical intimacy isn’t just sex and cuddling. This is perfect.”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice blocked out by the sound of his heartbeat- or is it yours that you can hear awfully loud? beating rapidly, thudding harder and harder.

It's weird, your heart is beating so fast but you still feel so tired. so tired you just might-

“I know I don’t say it often, but I- I really love you; I need to say it more often.” You want to say it back but your mouth is just so sluggish, so tired. Your arms start to go slack around his neck. “I love you so much pup.”

In the silence, the gurgle of the water grows louder and louder and louder.

“Pup?” Namjoon pulls away from you for a second to look at your face. Without your arms around his neck, you sink like a lead weight. The water slides past your mouth.

“Pup!”

~-~

(The pack, now)

In the wake of you and Namjoon leaving everything feels a little bit off kilter. A little bit not right.

No sooner has the car pulled out of the driveway and your scent has dissipated from the house than Jin is stifling his sniffles and excusing himself to the bathroom only to come back smelling soggy and hormonal and with red-rimmed eyes.

Yoongi casts worried glances in the direction of the driveway and Jimin and Jungkook come back from their run, with a huff and a giggle of thudding feet on the porch. Having nearly everyone home does little to settle or lighten the mood.

They come inside, sweaty and yet cold, scents sweetening until they don't. Hobi watches them realize, almost comically that the den is two packmates short. Jimin goes into Tae's library room and returns empty-handed. Jungkook looks from the couch to Jin's side, his smile falling. “Did they leave already?”

Jin covers his nose with his sleeve. Scowling in Jungkook's direction. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Damn,” Jungkook pouts, “I really wanted to see them off.”

Jin turns back to his pancakes with a huff before Jimin can catch his eye. Jimin moves close, but Jin sidesteps him so fluidly that Hobi could almost convince himself that it is just that- fluid and thoughtless.

But Hobi’s not sure. Something feels off. Jin’s scent is too sour, too disjointed like the sweetness and sourness are separate notes for it to be entirely incidental. Jin wrinkles his nose, eyes on the batter, whisking it smooth (he'd deemed the first batch non-palatable and started all over again, under the threat of tears), “Can you shower Jiminie? And would someone open the windows- it’s stifling in here.”

Jimin is a good alpha, just nods and looks Jin over. “Okay hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Minnie just-“ Jin ignores Jimin’s puppy eyes and Jungkook’s and Tae’s (Yoongi still hasn’t torn his eyes off of the driveway) gesturing wildly with the whisk. “If you don’t all settle then you'll have to have breakfast on the table instead of the couch where I know you stinky little pups want to eat it. I’ll count to three. One”

That’s all it takes, and the three of them are leaping hand over hand to sit on the couch instead. Jin fluffs back, satisfied at being obeyed. Hobi stays close. Jimin scents over Tae’s shoulder and then heads upstairs.

“Let me help?” Hobi offers, and Jin nods, sidestepping him once again as Hobi reaches around him to turn on the electric griddle.

Hobi doesn’t play music while they cook for the sake of Saturday morning cartoons (they’re not cartoons- just the episode of the drama that Tae missed last night when she decided she’d rather retreat upstairs with you and Hobi instead of watching it with Jin. And it’s a Wednesday, not a Saturday) the familiar just-seen sounds do not lull Jin into a reverie, because Jin is not easily lulled this morning.

Something is wrong with Jin hyung, and he just won’t say what.

Instead of retreating to the couch to cuddle like Hobi can tell Jin needs, he just keeps cooking. Even though Hobi's usually the one who handles pancakes, makes them into nice hearts and stars and squiggles. Not the weird and lopsided ovals that Jin makes. Jin just can’t sit down or stop moving, can't stop the feeling like something bad will happen if he stops-

An animal claws at his chest, a feeling without a name, hungry and frightened. A wolf backed into a corner will bite and Jin feels claustrophobic- something pressing in around him from all sides.

Your scent and Jungkook’s scents are the only ones unoffensive for some reason (Yoongi's would be too- if he didn't smell so worried), maybe it's because you're among the lowest in the hierarchy. Hobi's is a little better- if only because he smells like soft alpha instead of heady strong alpha. Hobi’s caramel scent is mild. At ease.

For that reason alone, he's allowed to stay close.

Something in Jin's chest purrs when he gets Jin a plate for the finished pancakes. What a good alpha, what a capable alpha. So thoughtful.

Pack Alpha chose well.

Pack alpha? Where is alpha? Abandoned? Alone? Pup? Where is pup? Stole pup. Bad alpha. Nest thief. Icky alphas shouldn't steal pups that don't belong to them. Need pup. Need nest, need pack alpha, need-

Jin breathes in for 5 and out for 9. Unsure why his instincts are making a rare appearance this morning, why he's feeling his inner omega chomping at the edges of his mind for a chance to get out.

He busies himself making more pancakes than any one pack could conceivably eat in one morning. No matter how many times Hobi and Tae ask him to just rest. To put the batter away for later, he just hums at them and moves on.

It’s like he’s worried he’ll lose his momentum if he sits. Standing in front of the sizzling griddle with a spatula in hand his pout ever-present. Making more and more pancakes even though almost everyone is full. Jimin comes back and takes a good stack. Jin almost purrs in satisfaction.

Jin hasn’t even eaten a single one.

Jungkook watches Jin from the kitchen island where he munches on his plate, not taking his eyes off of the other omega. Lips glossy from maple syrup.

The pancakes pile up high with no one to eat them and the hours drag on and on. Past the time when you and Namjoon should have arrived at the onsen. Jungkook’s cheeks are sticky and round with the bites. Jin says he’s not hungry, but the truth is his stomach is roiling with nausea.

Yoongi and Hobi cast glances at each other over his head, at least whenever Yoongi tares his focus away from the driveway.

Jin hyung might be inconsolable, but Yoongi's distress is a little more manageable. He steps close as they wash dishes, bumping elbows and trying to catch the beta's eye. “Want to go for a drive later hyung?”

If Hobi asked you he knows you’d be up and out the door without another word. But Yoongi is not you. Yoongi just glances, looking from Hobi to the front door nervously.

Something is definitely up.

After a moment Yoongi just shakes his head, and Hobi tries not to feel a little disappointed. “Sorry Daisy, just-” Something flickers across Yoongi’s face. He’s really bad at keeping secrets, Hobi doesn't know how he kept the whole mafia thing under wraps for so long. His concern for you is so palpable that Hobi almost wants to call you just to alleviate it.

(That wouldn't be right, the whole pack had agreed to leave your and Namjoon's time alone, to give you both space this weekend. It's okay. It's going to be okay; they'll survive.)

(This sucks, not having everyone togeather sucks, everything sucks.)

Maybe Hobi doesn't understand Yoongi's single-minded focus- not being mated and all. Does Yoongi feel your absence like a physical ache? Or is it more of a wound without any blood? What does it feel like- to have your soul-bonded partner so far away?

The beta hums, looking back out the window. Noodle is out there, in the middle of the cul-de-sac staring yoongi down through the kitchen window.

Yoongi flinches. "Jesus Christ that fucking cat-"

Hobi glances up and smiles. Noodle's tail goes up and he trots to the front door at the sight of Hobi in the window. Hobi snorts, "He's just like you waiting for her to come home."

“He is not like me, if I was a cat I'd be less fluffy. And probably black."

"Whatever you say hyung."

Jin snorts, getting in on it, acting normal for the first time in hours and Hobi wants to sag against the countertop in relief. "You'd have a rat tail. it would have like no hair."

"Would not"

"Would too-"

Jimin's footsteps thunder down the stairs. "I'd be a Calico!"

"You'd be a munchkin Minnie- not a calico."

"Can I be a Norwegian forest cat? The orange ones? They're so pretty!"

Tae prattles on about Warrior Cats, one of the first series that she ever read, and everyone lets her talk about the story because everyone is sort of hopelessly in love with Tae. As the only girl home right now- she deserves a little bit of indulging.

Jungkook stays silent, watching Jin. It's a little unnerving like Noodle watching Yoongi through the open window. Jin ignores him.

Hobi puts the bowl of pancake batter to the side. Reaching out to tangle his hand with Yoongi, kicking a hip against the counter. “You sure getting out of here might not help you for a little bit?” It's a weak offering even to Hobi's own ears. Yoongi tips his head to the TV.

"It's just getting good, maybe- maybe later?" Hobi hums in agreement, later he can handle. Later still means there might be more instead of outright rejection.

On the screen, the K-drama villain has a predictable meltdown about a trivial work conflict. Tae sits with her legs folded under her at rapt attention.

There is a brush between her and Jimin on the couch. Hobi wishes he could capture the way that Jimin is looking at her and save it to show you. He's drinking in her little ohs and ahs like they're ambrosia as he combs her hair back and does her little French braids. Jimin has been practicing. Hobi watches as he delicately tucks her little baby hairs into the twist, not missing a single one.

Tae's bubblegum mouth widens at the love confession on screen. "I knew it! I knew he couldn't have secondary lead syndrome!" Jimin just huffs letting Tae shift moving with her before the braids have a chance to pull out of his hands.

"You were right" he agrees, "I shouldn't have been suspicious." Tae glances back at him, smiles in that told you so but I'm not going to say it way, and then turns back. Hobi smiles a little; he’s so down bad.

Jungkook sits at the kitchen island instead of the couch, alternating between watching the TV and watching Jin. Eyes bright with suspicion.

Jin flips each of the pancakes in quick secession, goes back to whipping up fresh batter, and then goes back to flipping so quick that it almost gives Hobi whiplash. Yoongi notices it too, goes over to Jin’s side trying to touch his elbow but is met with a short-tempered glare.

“Jinnie honey, I think you’ve made enough pancakes.”

Jin scoffs and continues, it doesn’t matter that it’s well into the afternoon now, that really- they could and should be making dinner at this point. The whole day has come and gone with the pack just like this, cooking pancakes and watching Jin like he’s a ticking time bomb.

“Just one more-” Yoongi sighs. Jin goes back to flipping the pancakes. Doing it with too much force, too much finesse.

Jin tries to flip one and misses. It lands batter-side down on the floor with a wet thwack.

Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jin all look at it for a second. And then Jin sort of predictably- sort of out of nowhere, bursts into tears.

“Hyung? Hyung, what’s up? Hey don’t-"

Jin scrubs at his eyes angrily, shaking his head and stopping Hobi from cupping his cheeks. Side-stepping Yoongi’s out-stretched hands, and slapping the entire metal bowl of pancake batter (still a quarter full) into the sink with a loud clang of dishes and ceramic. Maybe something breaks.

He waves off Hobi’s hands, big rivulets carving their way down his cheeks.

Jimin reaches to pause the drama. Getting up in about two seconds, detangling himself from Tae with a startled, “hyung?”

Jungkook huffs and everything feels dissonant. How is it that everything feels off with just you and Namjoon gone? Everyone is a little on edge. If Namjoon were here he’d just hug Jin and everything would be fine. If you were here- you’d bound up between both Hobi and Yoongi and make them go on a walk with you to see more flowers and it would be just that- easy and effortless.

This is not easy, and the effort is palpable. The way that Jin has to steady his breath and articulate his words. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine just-”

Jin shares a look with Yoongi and Yoongi looks away.

Now Hobi really feels left out, hands tightening, looking from one packmate to another, “what’s wrong? What aren’t you guys saying? Why are you crying?”

Jungkook’s lips smack together with the sound of syrup sticking to his plush lips. His fork scrapes dully against his plate and Hobi grits his teeth.

“What?” he stresses.

Jungkook just shrugs and chews. “Yoongi's upset because he knew Y/n was in pre-heat but he let her leave anyway and now he's regretting it” The ice water feeling of shock settling over his whole body is enough that Hobi almost misses Jungkook’s next words. “-And Jin Hyung’s upset because he’s in pre-heat too and just doesn’t want to admit it. Because if he admits it then it means that his alpha left his nest with his pup and that makes him feel sad. He’s feeling sensitive so don't tease.”

Are you in pre-heat? Is this really happening? Hobi thinks back to how you’d looked when you’d left; How you’d looked cold just standing in the kitchen, looked a little ashen too- like you hadn’t been able to wake up all the way.

You hadn’t looked like you were going into pre-heat this morning- granted going into heat looks a little different on every omega but you were nothing like Jin is now; snappish, overstimulated, bratty. If anything, you’d just looked tired and a little cold. almost like…

Almost like your body was telling you to stay put. To stay and nest where it’s safe.

Only you hadn’t listened, and now you're three hours away from them with only one alpha instead of the many you'll need.

Hobi feels so many things in quick succession. One second shocked the next insecure and sort of disappointed in himself for not realizing it and being more attuned with his packmates. The next thing he feels is begrudging relief because Hobi's not being a bad packmate; none of them know just what your pre-heat looks like yet. They can all be forgiven for not noticing- Even Yoongi who despite the mating bond has never seen you in heat before.

There's also a possibility that they're wrong too- you could be going into a false heat, or you could just have been looking sick this morning. There is no real way to know without you here. If you actually are in heat, Namjoon will notice.

Jin is another story.

Jin's pre-heats never look like this.

Usually, he starts them feeling needy and over-tired. Sometimes his temperature drops because Jin's body is trying to force him to nest. the same way yours might have been this morning.

Then his body pushes him closer and closer to omegaspace. That's the first tip-off; because Jin doesn't need omegaspace the same way you or Jungkook do. Whereas you get almost babyish, sluggish, and tiny- Jin gets pouty and mothering like a broody hen. It's the difference between pack-omegaspace and regular omegaspace.

Suddenly, the pile of pancakes makes a lot of sense. Jin isn't just making sure his own body is prepared for his heat, but the rest of theirs is too. His nestmates, his pups.

9 times out of 10 Namjoon knows before Jin does, tells him, warns him and the rest of them, and the pack has more time to prepare. Jungkook is a little more sporadic, rarely ever goes cold before he goes hot, just treads straight into a fever and omegaspace zoomies that slowly melts into a need to be bred full.

But when Hobi breathes deep he catches it- the faintest hint of cloying sweetness drawing them in. Breeding hormones are to an alpha like a moth is to a flame and Jin is only just starting to smell sweeter. He's so upset that Hobi can hardly make sense of the sweetness in the sourness of his scent.

That's the thing about broody pack omega's- they go protective before they go sweet.

Jin goes from upset to angry quick enough to give the whole pack whiplash. Enough that Jimin has to get in between Yoongi and him with the way Jin lunges. Jin's teeth snap sending the rest of the reeling. Jimin is several heads shorter than Jin, and can’t contain him or the anger of an omega on a hormone high. Jin's hiss is acidic as he grips Yoongi's shoulders around Jimin, “You let my pup go away, you let my pup go when she could be in heat? Have you lost your mind?”

For what it’s worth Yoongi does not flinch. He doesn’t even move away when Jin grabs him by his chubby cheeks. Jin looks like he hasn’t even absorbed the second part of Jungkook’s message.

“Namjoon’s clueless when it comes to heats! He’s an alpha- he’s not going to be able to help her nest or keep her safe or-” Jin pales, actually goes white as a sheet. Yoongi’s teeth worry at his lower lip.

“She wanted to go, she wanted to make her own choices and she said she wasn’t in pre so I trusted her.”

“She is a pup Yoongi!” Jin bares his teeth. Eyes wild, that picture of a pack omega whose nest has just been threatened. Whose pup has just been stolen.

“She deserves to decide what she wants to do for herself- if she wants to spend her heat with just Namjoon then we’ve got to respect that."

Jin doesn’t like it- how Yoongi’s talking back. He Likes what Yoongi's insinuating even less: that you wouldn’t want the pack to help you through your heat, that you do not need them.

But you do need them. You need them for everything like a pup would. To remind you to brush your hair and be safe and careful. You certainly need them to mind your pleasure and well-being like a garden. You need your pack omega. Yoongi is being stupid. He needs Jin to guide him too- Obviously.

Jin moves, dragging Yoongi over to the kitchen island. For what it's worth Yoongi doesn't fight him or tell him off. Looking just as shocked by the turn of events as they all are. Jin looks a little wild. Tae hides her laugh behind a hand.

It’s not often Jin takes the Hyungs over his lap for a spanking. Hobi just sighs from behind his ruffled apron when he realizes what's about to happen.

“In front of my pancakes hyung? Really?”

Jin holds Yoongi’s nape in between his fingers and bends him low over the counter before dispensing a volley of swats over his behind. they're not hard, Yoongi looks more shocked than scolded. More turned on than upset.

“My pup does not belong to Namjoon!” Yoongi does not push against Jin’s grip because even he can see this is what Jinnie needs. If Jin really is in pre-heat then this is like a balm to his emotions- friable and feeble. Jin doesn't tolerate feeling out of control and if doling out a punishment is what he needs to feel steady then the whole pack will get on their knees.

Jin’s almost teary when he says it “She should be with me- especially if she’s in pre-heat. She’s mine- not Namjoon’s- not yours- mine.”

Other omega’s serve a purpose during the pack omega’s heat; they're there to make sure the nest stays tended to, prepared for pups and alpha’s. Other omega’s are there to warm and fluff and cuddle between the spikes of heat when the need for a knot becomes a need for simple closeness. With scent and touch sensitivity heightened- a soft omega is the equivalent of a fresh breath of air.

(Even then, Jin’s anger at you for not being home is a little over the top. Especially given that out of all of them Yoongi has maybe the greatest incentive to want you home).

Jungkook knows this, he lets Jin have a few spanks, a dozen before he stands up, wipes his hands clean of sticky syrup, and reaches out to pinch Jin’s scent gland.

A whine shocks out of Jin’s throat and he clamps a hand over his mouth, blinking rapidly. The rest of the pack watches as the wild threatened look vanishes from Jin’s eyes and it’s like he’s lucid for a moment. He seems to realize what he’s doing looking down at the position he has Yoongi in. The beta’s flaming cheeks and shocked blinking. The vaguely amused look in Tae’s eyes, the gentle resignation and concern in Jungkook’s. He lets Yoongi go quickly, hands trembling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Yoongi gets up, pink-cheeked, and Jin backs away from all of them. “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t even want to do that.” He’s close to tears again. It’s not the first time one of them got an impromptu spanking from the pack omega. But what is shocking is Jin’s guilt.

There is a certain level of dominance that they've all agreed to all consented to being a part of this pack. Jin didn't even hurt Yoongi, and he's not thinking clearly. Hobi doubts there's even red marks.

Jin just needs an outlet for his instincts.

Jungkook stalks towards him, determined, and the hair on the back of Jin’s neck stands up.

“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried about her when you’re so clearly in pre-heat too hyung. Don't ignore me.”

Jin nearly snaps his teeth with how quick he goes toe to toe with the youngest. The alpha’s do worse regularly when tensions are high, but still it’s so strange to see Jin act anything like aggressive- especially directed against the youngest and for hardly anything more than a cocky tone. Jin and Jungkook go toe to toe.

“I’m not ignoring you, you're just wrong. I’m not in pre-heat."

Jungkook just grins and reaches out to touch Jin’s chest. Cupping him where he knows he’s sensitive. Jin lets out a high-pitched keen and almost sags, would probably fall if Jungkook didn't catch him by the elbow.

It makes every alpha in the room stand to attention. Sit up. Nervous. “Sensitive here, right? And you still want to say you’re not- when you’ve been snappy the whole day because you just want to nest and not be upright- when you just want what your alphas aren’t giving you- your omega’s and your knots.”

Jin bites his lips, covering his chest with his hands and stepping back. Looking a little stunned. “You’re in pre-heat hyung.”

The whole room is silent, but after a second, Hobi reaches for Jin’s phone on the counter. “I’m calling Namjoon.”

Jin’s hand wraps around Hobi’s wrist stopping him- his upper lip lifts in a near feral hiss.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

~-~

(You and namjoon)

You wrap the terry cloth robe around you more firmly, fighting back a blush as the manager of the onsen stands up from your side. If she were an alpha, things would be a lot different and you doubt that Namjoon would let her get at all close to you. But Namjoon doesn’t have any problem with letting her check you over, verifying that the water wasn’t too hot and that everything is fine.

Everything is far from fine.

There had to have been some reason for you to pass out no more than an hour ago. You didn’t just fall asleep- that much you know, after coming too to black spots in your vision and dizziness so complete you doubt you could stand without falling over right now. To Namjoon frantically calling your name and covering you with a towel.

Everything smells a little off too- a little dampened, you paw at your nose, wondering why you can’t seem to smell the omega- given she’s old. But you can’t smell Namjoon either. It’s a little distressing, not being able to smell your pack alpha. Your nose doesn’t feel stuffy.

Weird.

Namjoon checked you over too. You’d already sort of been coming around after he dragged your limp body out of the hot water, but he’d been a little startled. You’re kind of thankful that his frantic call had fucked up, that he’d accidentally called the front desk instead of 911 if only to spare yourself the embarrassment of a trip to the hospital and probably a trip home.

You feel too sluggish for that- like everything is moving at 2x speed and your brain is on pause. Now, you rub at your nose and let Namjoon and the omega duke it out. “It was probably just the heat of the onsen. Young omegas tend to be a little more affected by sharp temperature changes.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, “she’s taken hot baths before.”

The elderly omega raises her eyebrow, “In magnesium-rich water?”

Namjoon deflates and admits “No” after a second. She stands from the bed and nods like her work is done. “it was in the pamphlet. I recommend you rest well tonight and then enjoy it in the morning, you’ve traveled far.” Namjoon holds your hand tight. His fingers pressed to your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his skin.

“The pamphlet?” The manager hunts it down, and after a second digs it out from under the bed, cast from the bed to the floor by the mishap with your suitcase. Leave it to Joonie to be so excited he didn’t look before he put it down. Properly scolded, Namjoon takes the pamphlet.

Namjoon says something to the old lady in the doorway, comes back inside with a few plastic shopping bags, and you remember the food. It must have been delivered sometime in the last hour, because it still looks and smells hot when he sets it on the side table.

Huh, your nose doesn't seem to have any problem smelling the food- just Namjoon. Weird.

Namjoon’s looking at you in a way that you’re familiar with. The same way he looks at Jungkook after his seizures. “Can you get me a shirt?” Namjoon gives you one of his, probably the one he’d planned on sleeping in. He watches as you pull it over your head, watches as it pools on your bare thigh.

It’s nighttime now, and the lights outside are mainly pointed up at the trees lighting them from below. You leave the large glass doors open, cautioning in some of the warm sweet-smelling air and a few cherry blossoms inside. They flutter and stick to the big puddles on the wooden floor. Puddles from you when Namjoon dragged you out of the water catch the light like silver.

Namjoon’s medical bag is already on the side. He must have gotten it from the car although you’re not sure when. You look at him and he tucks his chin looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The concern in his eyes makes you feel all warm in your stomach.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like that until you check me again?”

“Yes” you make a noise, and surrender yourself to him again, Namjoon moves- almost jaunty.

He checks your blood pressure again, the movement behind your eyes with a small flashlight, you follow his instructions like the good pup you are. Everything quiet except for the faint trickle of water outside and the low hum of his voice.

When Namjoon asks you to lean forward so that he can sneak a stethoscope onto your back and listen to your lungs and heart, you nose and nuzzle at his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering. After a few moments, he makes to stand back but your arms tug him close, keep him that way, almost purring.

Now you know why you couldn’t smell him earlier- it’s because you weren’t close enough, now you’re under his thumb you can finally smell him again and he smells so musky. You drink him in, rubbing small circles with your nose.

"Pup" he stresses. You pay him no mind.

Namjoon smells good today. Really really good. you’re not sure what it is but- he smells richer, maybe not any different than usual- but almost like you can sense more. Pick up on every little thing, every pulse of his heartbeat makes his scent flutter out stronger like a ripple. Promising safety and protection. You really are going to start purring.

Namjoon stops you the second before you try to bite him.

You blink up at him, mouth open. His hand grips your cheeks and you close your mouth with a faint click. "Sorry- I don't know why I-" Namjoon bites his lip while you rub your eyes, he waits until you can quiet the purring in your throat. You search for the word, “purry? bitey?”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon’s still watching you like a hawk.

You blink slowly, eyelids heavy. You’re still really tired, really drowsy. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your heart rate is a little slow. I’m worried.”

“I’m fine Joonie.” He looks at your lips and then your eyes, “really.” You shake yourself awake a little. “Wanna eat so much food we get a food coma and then sleep it off?” It’s barely 6pm but it sounds like a good idea. Namjoon tosses his stethoscope into the chair in the corner of the room and sighs.

Luckily- someone else but Tae seems to have a hand in at least packing you one or two comfy sets of clothes. You’re mostly clean, too sleepy and dizzy to think about showering again. You dress deftly in your pj’s and Namjoon dresses with his and sets out the food you rest up against the bed, it’s not as good as your nest but still- the sheets are smooth and soft.

You wrinkle your nose, you can’t smell anyone but Namjoon, lifting your sleeve to your nose you breathe a deep breath and get a bit of Jin and Jungkook- that does more to settle you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve nested without either of them or their scents. You’re not sure you like it, you’re not sure you want to nest here.

Namjoon comes back with the rest of the food, but leaves it in a heap on the side table. There’s a lump in his throat and his scent sours. “I’m sorry this isn’t more fun.”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Joonie, and this is fun. I’m sorry I passed out.”

Your pack alpha shakes his head, “not your fault. We’ll just wait until you get a bit more rest. We can enjoy it tomorrow, right?” You nod, and shuffle over to the edge of the bed so you can kiss him. His pout turns into a smile against your mouth but it still feels like an apology.

“Even just lying here- pinging out on food is still gonna be fun.” Your tone turns to tease. “I mean I know we both through this was supposed to be like a romantic vacation rather than a vacation vacation but-"

Namjoon shakes his head, “I just want to spend time with you.”

The two of you get fat and happy on dumplings and pork fried rice, the kind of salty bad American Chinese food that you and Namjoon are both familiar with, that you both like even if the rest of the pack doesn’t.

Over the next hour with the TV droning and the warm air wafting into the room- you talk about everything. Spilling peach rings and gummy bears and red vines onto the bedspread. Your feet against his shins, your legs over his lap.

You talk about everything- your childhoods, the fact that yoongi's really close to finishing renovations on the house, getting Noodle a sibling. All of it. That one time that Jimin and Hobi had a competition to see who could eat the most crab Rangoon's in a single sitting and almost vomited. Everything. Reclined back against the bed. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that you’re alright, that nothing is wrong.

But then you get up to brush your teeth.

Namjoon is just shutting the door and the outside lights, turning your room into a pocket of dim yellow light. half of the food put away in the mini fridge but the other half still out and open for grazing. Everything has started to feel cozy and sleepy again and maybe- maybe tomorrow when you wake up, you'll finally feel better.

You’re just rounding the corner into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when the cramping hits you.

“Ow ow ow what the fuck-”

You almost drop to your knees at the pain, crouching over, catching yourself on the doorway. curling over, anything to release the pressure, the horrible tenseness and unfamiliar pain in your stomach. You go white as a sheet and Namjoon looks so startled. Shouting your name and jumping over the bed, knocking over an open and nearly full container of fried pork rice plain onto the ground. Your toothbrush falls onto the hotel room floor.

“Pup! What’s wrong!? What’s-” Namjoon’s hands are on your shoulders and You’re still holding your stomach, blinking back the tears in your eyes and whimpering. Namjoon pries your fingers away from your stomach to see- but there’s nothing. Namjoon touches your stomach- and you keen.

Namjoon’s nostrils flare. And he picks you up from where you’re crumpled on the floor. It’s not so difficult for him, although he sets you down on the bed with less finesse.

The cramping lasts for a few more seconds. You’re panting by the time it dissipates. Namjoon makes it so so much better- rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine, tucking his chin over the ball of your shoulder, and holding you. Ushering you as close to his chest and neck as he can. Something about your alpha being close makes all of this better- makes the cramps subside.

“It’s okay pup, it’s okay, I’ve got you, alphas got you.”

Namjoon’s muscles are shaking. He waits until the cramping stops and you're just breathing heavily. But then he sets you back gently against the bed. You’re dazed and dizzy where you lie. Whining in displeasure when Namjoon pulls away. Trying to guide your hands away from your stomach. shanking your head as he tries to get you to stop holding it.

“Let me see pup, let me see- Omega.”

Your body breaks out into full body shivers, hands going limp, you freeze and bear your throat so quick you don't even realize what you're doing. Head spinning. room spinning. Your Focus narrows down to Namjoon and his command, Namjoon and what he wants Namjoon and-

His eyebrows are knit together and he’s concentrating on something- thinking hard as he gently detangles your hands

Namjoon swallows, then leans down. Ducking in and sniffing at your stomach. Breathing deep. Nose brushing your naval.

He jerks back abruptly, eyes wide.

Namjoon bursts into action, crossing the room and going into the bathroom where he starts to shove your clothes into your suitcase. Everything from the crumpled lingerie that had tumbled out earlier, to his dirty clothes and bathing suit, everything shoved back inside with little care.

“Fuck- fuck-“

You sit up, hair ruffled, “Joonie?” Your dress for tomorrow night gets stuffed into the suitcase roughly, with little care for the delicate silk he can’t get it closed around the hanger.

“We’re going home.” Namjoon looks so stressed, you half wish you’d never driven all the way out here in the first place.

“What? Why-“

Namjoon’s phone is on the bed and buried in the sheets, but it starts to ring, its tone loud and shrill. Namjoon hesitates, looking at you and then at the phone. But it’s Hobi's contact, and you reach for it almost before he does.

“Hyung thank god-” someone's shouting in the background, it’s Tae even if Hobi's phone is calling. Namjoon put it on speaker but the overlap of loud voices makes the speaker on his phone crackle.

“Give me the phone- I can-” “No let her speak!” You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so bratty, Jungkook whines and it’s hard to tell exactly who hit the phone and Who exactly called. Their voices overlap, everyone is trying to speak at once. “Stop squirming-” "hurry up, Hobi can only distract him for so long."

Namjoon doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to comply, just says “Guys!” in a slightly stern tone and they all fall silent.

“Something’s happening, I’m coming home- we- she’s-” Namjoon looks at you, and you get the sense that he knows something and he’s just not telling you.

“Oh, thank god” Yoongi sounds relived.

“Please hurry,” Jimin asks, but Jungkook comes over, snapping his reply.

“We need to tell him- Jin hyung-" There’s a sound of skin hitting skin, and muffled voices like someone just put their hand over Jungkook’s mouth.

Namjoon does not look away from the phone, hand tightening around it. “Wait what’s wrong? What’s going on with Jin?”

You perk up at the sound of his name. The pack omega? What possibly could be going on that they need to tell you about. “Omega?” You ask, and Namjoon almost hisses.

“Pup" The relief and tiredness is palpable in Jin's voice, he sounds substantially less stern when he hears your voice. "I’m fine, pup, just-” Silence again. You wish they’d face timed, that you could see their faces and they could see yours.

“We waited until we were sure and Jin hyung didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin your vacation but- but-” Jungkook stutters and Jimin comes in behind him. At the sound of one of your alpha’s, you chirp. Slapping a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“Jin hyung is in heat.”

You hear a sound, something like a door opening, and Jin's stern tone comes through the line. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I told you I didn't want to tell them until tomorrow morning." Jin sounds cross, sounds actually angry.

Namjoon looks down at you, gaze conflicted. “Fucking hell.”

“I know- I’m sorry, we waited until we were sure but he started feeling crampy a few minutes ago-”

You touch your own stomach, crampy. Huh that means-

"No, I'm not upset just-”

You take the phone from Namjoon, “alpha.” Your keen is so breathy, you don’t know what tips Hobi off if it’s that or the breathlessness to your voice, the way you sound close to tears.

Leaving the den was a very very bad idea. Jimin falls silent on the other line, everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the phone explodes with the sound of arguing.

"I was right! I told you she was in heat hyung's- I told you so!"

"Jungkook, now is so not the time-"

"Ow!"

There's the sound of squabbling, someone pushing at someone else maybe. something hits the phone and it makes a muffled crackling sound. "Jinnie- no biting- hey- no- guys."

You and Namjoon look at the phone, and everyone is silent for a second before you lean over it. "Daddy?"

the sounds of a tussle cut off. “Pup” Jin sounds so sad over the line, not at all like he just bit someone. “Can you come home? I think I’m gonna go crazy if you’re not-”

“Yeah, Namjoon’s already packing.”

“Thank god,” Jin sounds close to tears, you’re dizzy, but not so dizzy and out of it that you don't grasp the gravity of the situation. not so dizzy that you can’t do what you need to. Jin sounds so so sad.

"I didn’t want it to be this way, I wanted your first heat with us to be just you- so I could take care of you, but it doesn't look like it's going to turn out that way.”

“Can you make me a nest Jinnie? A heat nest? I can’t, I don’t know how.”

“Yes.” Jin says, voice going husky. “Gonna make you the best heat nest, gonna be so cozy. Gonna be perfect.” He promises, and you smile. He’s already feeling hazy, you can tell.

You’re feeling hazy too. Cheek falling against the bed, trying to nuzzle into the phone. “Can’t wait, wanna nest with you-”

“Shit.” “Jin don’t fall over- here-” you hear a thump, like someone’s guiding him to a chair.

Namjoon takes control of the situation. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”

“No- don’t text and drive.”

“Love you, bye, see you in a bit.” Namjoon hangs up and heaves the suitcase up onto the bed to finish packing. You start to move, but he shoots you a look. “Stay here, I’ll carry you.”

“Joonie it’s just pre-heat, I can still walk-”

Namjoon shoves your clothes, your bikini, into the confines of the suitcase. Red strings tangle in his fingers. “Don’t care.”

“But-” Namjoon darts forward, looming over you and you have to fight the urge to tilt your head to the side and show your neck. Holding you by the chin a little roughly. It has the desired effect.

Your instincts preen, alpha's so good. Alpha's so strong, knows just how to handle you. Your heartbeat quickens, and Namjoon glowers. “I think if I don’t get you home right now, and back to the den I might go-” Namjoon hesitates, and you see it, how he trembles. How he gently guides you to sit back on the bed. And you recognize the stress in his voice.

An alpha and an omega outside of their den during a heat is a scary thing. Namjoon's instincts are so close to the surface. You hope you don't see anyone on your way out. If anyone looked at you too long you don't know what Namjoon might do.

Namjoon will not go feral at the idea of his omega suffering through a heat outside of the Den. Namjoon will not go crazy. He will drive you back to the house at an appropriate speed, and you won’t go into heat on the way home because realistically you have at least another 24 hours before either of your heats hit fully.

Most pre-heats last anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, Jin’s are always a little longer because he's older.

Yours? He’s not so sure about.

Your eyelashes flutter and your scent spikes. He strokes reassuringly down your scent gland and you pant, you feel it all the way at the tips of your fingers, trembling. It's so good having Namjoon touch you there. You clench your thighs and whine as he pulls away. And you know that's as much as he can give you right now. To settle your instincts for the drive and to settle himself too.

This is the moment the pack has been waiting for. The moment they’ve carefully coached you towards with every meal and every bit of encouragement. In many ways- each courting gift was meant for this moment. Every blanket and pillow, every stuffed animal and matching pajama set was all for this; the moment you’d need every soft thing, every strong alpha you have at your fingertips.

They won’t fail you now. Namjoon won’t fail either of you.

“How long was your last pre-heat last pup?”

You blink, thinking back while he stoops to put on your socks, you are a little cold you realize, your body reallocating heat to your internal organs, leaving your extremities chilly and trembling. Contrary to popular belief- heats don’t always mean fever. Sometimes they mean you get so cold that you need other bodies to keep you warm.

You’re at that stage now, no wonder why the water earlier made you sleepy- complete and total warmth is what you need right now- what your body craves is a nest and your packmates. You can’t regulate your temperature on your own- you need the others to do it for you.

“It wasn’t quick, like- maybe 30 hours, granted I didn’t really realize I was going into heat so I’m not sure, I don’t-” Somehow, you don’t think this one will give you quite so much time to adjust. Namjoon soothes you with a finger running down the back of your neck, he won’t scruff you unless you need him to- worried that it will send you prematurely hurtling into heat.

They need to be careful- Namjoon needs to be careful. This is your first heat in a long long time and your body might behave unpredictably. They need to be careful not to bring it on too strong.

You need people who won't trigger you too quick, you need Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi.

You think it might come quick, with how intense all of this is feeling. Every step Namjoon takes away makes you anxious. Excites that prey part animal of you that knows you’ll be vulnerable for the next few days- probably the whole week.

Namjoon locks the door while he puts the suitcase in the car and then comes back for you. Taking no chances. “Namjoon,” you say, when he comes back into the hotel room. You gesture to the mess on the floor between your feet. The box of takeout that he upended on his race to get to you when you collapsed.

“What are we gonna do about the mess?"

~-~

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Notes:

this chapter ended up alot more sexual than i planned for it too. i know i promised fluff but- it is really sexual in nature and i'm only realizing that now.

i realize that in my head the actuall toilet part of the bathroom upstairs was in a seperate little room like- almost a half bath inside the bath? but i can change it just for this part because it's like- bily is my sandbox and i can play in it <3

i don't know why sertian parts of the omega x omega dynamic really really apeals to me like- almost more than the alpha x omega parts do sometimes.

its really soft and just a tiny easter egg- but when hobi talks about planting the magnolia tree- i need everyone to know that namjoon and jin's first daughter ends up being namged magnolia- or maggie for short, and she's a little carbon copy of namjoon and a total tom boy and ands up climbing it like, basically every day, it's like her chill spot <3

if we're getting down into the nitty gritty of what had happened in the hot tub scene between tae and hobi and the m/c i think hobi had been really really curious about the m/c's addictive slick but obviously- he's triggered by giving women oral sex from moonbyul so he's like- obviously nervous and doesn't want to like- actually have the m/c ride his face, tae tae knows this and probably spent all of that, scene feeding hobi little drops of the m/c's slick from her fingers, had probably made the m/c sit on the edge of the hot tub and bend back to show hobi how wet she gets and nose and nuzzle at her hole over her bathing suit before pulling it to the side and showing him that her pussy is so cute it's hardly scary. obviously hobi does not eat the m/c out but maybe tae can't resist.

i know there are alot of flash back's and little scenes in between the scene that's actually happening- i wonder if this is the way i should write them? do you guys like the part where they're talking about the free use? yoongi's flue? or should i have edited those parts out?

where it not for the m/cs heat- i think it would have taken yoongi and her until the following fall to be intimate again. it would have happened one day when she came in from her classes all cold and damp from october (is that a spoiler?) and he'd crumple and give it to her slow and warm.

tae and the m/c's scene in the bedroom was supposed to be alot more breif but i made it longer because i love mommy tae and i missed her<3

tae kissing over her panties is so???? feral and horny of her??? when will that be meeeee on both sides of it honestly? can you imagine having a cute little girlfriend that lets you dress them up???? the fantasy of having someone who wants you so much they just cuddle into you all the time??? tae is one lucky girl 😭

i worry that this chapter is going to be like the others where i delve too far into each little thing and the bigger picture of it all is lost by the end of it but! maybe i don't care- i want mommy tae so bad :(

i really really love that tae calls the rest of the pack "our boys" because really- they are tae and the m/c's boys like- thats so soft for her to call them that. how much do you think jimin would blush to be called "my little boyfriend" by tae??? i think he'd short circuit.

listen, i know that canonically bily takes place in boston but i just couldn't resist with the onsen- i know nothing like this exists on the east coast but still <3 i wanted to write it so i made it my own.

i really like how you kind of get a taste for the dynamic of everyone at home without namjoon and the m/c- like the moment when they're talking about what kind of cat they'd be if they where a cat is so cute and packy <3 i wish i had a pack like that.

broody jinnie broody jinnie brooody jinnie <3 i love love love describing him as a broody hen, because if you'd ever been around a broody hen you know they are so sweet! but protective!!! and fluffy! we have a hen thats broody right now and her name is wonton.

The m/c having cramps as apart of her pre-heat symptoms is because i was also having cramps while i was writing this part. as was the american chineese food part! cuz i was craving it <3

namjoon deserves some major kudos for this chapter because tell me why that boy suffers

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minty-drop · 9 months ago

Note

Can I’m have a platonic request of the five beasts x child reader who is one of them who posses the virtue of innocence reader smile and cuteness always have bring happiness and joy to the five beasts but after they got corrupted the last thing they see his reader crying heartbroken asking them why before they get completely sealed after that reader virtue innocence turns into grief as they isolated themselves in beast yeast even after many years cries of a heartbroken child are still heard trough all beasts yeast headcanons

This request is so good wtf. Im in love with this big brain energy

The beasts x child reader

Tw: angst,

Type: platonic.as close as you can get to canon or theory of what is canonically accurate. Angst. Reader is gn

They all adored you, it being shown through many activities, words or actions throughout your time with them.

You were there pure, bright light of joy, an innocence that was refreshing from the unholy.

A child they could raise, a child they could keep, one that would not wither away from age or crumble in the hands of others.

Enteral sugars cloud was a misty yet comforting lounge for you and her to enjoy the breeze, taking sight and eyeing the wonders that graces earth-bread.

Burning spice, oh he’d never admit it, but he found it adorable when you would hang onto the halo that spun behind his dough while he sparred.

Mystic flour encouraged you to join her in walks through the mystical forest, taking joy in seeing you become fond with its beautiful wild life.

Silent salt spending those moments with care with you in silent while you slept peacefully by his side as he sharpened his blade, so careful not to wake you from your slumber.

Shadow milk, who would put on the greatest of great shows when you attended, keeping you in his sight at all times to hear your shouts of excitement and fits of giggles through the experience

A happy little bundle of joy, stuck cozy in between there arms that protected you from any harm that could come your way.

And when they turned sour, there were no more times to attend to you. They had gotten so tied up in there own mess of chaos, they never saw when you cried as mystic flour burned the forest to the ground, they never heard you beg shadow milk to stop hurting the cookies, they never heard or saw you. Only focusing on keeping you, not how you felt.

they regretted that when those twisted pitch forks came down on them from those witches. Seeing you crying in front of them hurt, but you crying because of them hurt..a lot

The beasts tried to speak to you before you were taken away from them, in there finally times in this era, they could only reach out, crying out for you to come back. Save them from this wicked end.

Grieving for hundreds, if not thousands of years, locking yourself away from the outside world in the hollow of beast yeast, waiting for the sickening torture to end.

#crk #crk x reader #cr kingdom #crk beast yeast #crk shadow milk cookie #crk eternal sugar #x reader #crk mystic flour #crk silent salt #crk burning spice #platonic #shadow milk cookie x reader

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s-lverwing · 2 months ago

Text

01. SIN

pairing. aegon targaryen x velaryon (targaryen)!reader x maelor targaryen (aegon’s twin).

summary. thoughts weight heavier than ever as you realize what’s expected from you; having a secret relationship with the king’s heir isn’t one. destiny can be defied, but duty must be followed.

word count. 4.8k (sorry). ao3 link

warnings. angst, targcest (niece and uncle), manipulation, toxic relationships. heavy pinning. kind of infidelity? english isn’t my first language and i haven’t read the books.

a/n. i got this idea from watching domina hehe and i thought it would be fun to explore this little idea i had of aegon having a twin brother that looks like a hightower. i stretched a bit what happens from driftmark until viserys dies, since i was missing more years . so this is aegon being 18-19 me and the reader is one or two years younger than him . and helaena and aegon aren’t paired yet because i don’t have the heart to make her bear children at 14 yo .

The night was still, as if the very walls of the Red Keep were holding their breath. Not even the usual footfalls of the royal guards echoed through the dim lighted corridors, nor did the familiar murmur of chambermaids’ gossip snake its way to your ears. The rat catchers had already done their work in the lower floors, leaving behind a silence that felt as suffocating as it was unusual.

Yet it wasn’t the silence that weighed so heavily on your heart—it was something deeper, something that clawed at your insides and left an acrid taste in your mouth. The Red Keep, once a place of grandeur and life, now seemed to pulse with a strange, ominous energy. You could feel it in the air, thick and oppressive, and you couldn’t help but link it to King Viserys’ worsening condition. He was a shadow of his former self, a walking corpse whose very presence seemed to taint the air with decay. The stench of his rotting flesh clung to him like a shroud, especially when mixed with the smell of milk of the poppy. He was nothing but a walking dead, a man who no longer belonged among the living. It almost served as a reminder of the state of the Kingdom.

The court was no longer the vibrant place of your childhood memories. It was a place of whispers and shadows, of secrets buried so deep they festered in the dark. You could feel the weight of those secrets pressing down on you, a burden you were not ready to carry but could no longer ignore. The responsibilities you had once tried to deny now loomed over you like a dark cloud.

And then there was Aegon. The mere thought of him brought a new kind of tension to your chest, one that was equal parts longing and dread. What you shared with him was a dangerous game, one that could end badly only for you. The risk was immense, but so too was the pull you felt towards him—a pull you could not resist, no matter how much you knew you should. You knew all too well what would happen if the rumors spread, if someone caught the two of you in a compromising position. There was no place for such reckless passion in the Red Keep, no room for fleeting romances or secret rendezvous. Not when you weren’t cunning enough to know how to hide away from their prying eyes. You were being watched, judged, and weighed against the expectations of a world that would crush you if you strayed too far from the path laid out before you.

Ser Otto Hightower’s words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the duty and honor that were supposed to guide you. He had been the only Hightower to show you any semblance of kindness after Lucerys had taken Aemond’s eye. It was a kindness that clung to your memory like a fragile, half-forgotten dream, overshadowed by the cruel realities that had since unfolded. Like a small mercy.

You couldn’t help but feel trapped, suffocating under the weight of expectations you had never wanted. And yet, you could not bring yourself to let go of Aegon, no matter how much you knew you should. The risk, the danger, the sheer madness of it all only seemed to draw you closer to him, even as you felt the noose tightening around your neck.

And as you stood there, alone in the drowning darkness of your chamber, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep this up—how much longer you could pretend that everything was fine when, deep down, you knew that everything was about to fall apart.

The quiet creak of the wooden doors took you away from your thoughts, but you didn’t turn from the window. The night outside was as dark and impenetrable as your own thoughts. You didn’t need to look to know who had entered; Aegon’s footsteps were as familiar to you as the beating of your own heart, an echo of years spent together in a world that seemed increasingly distant now. His scent, a heady mix of wine and something uniquely him, filled the room, bringing with it an uneasy comfort that had long since become part of you since this started.

He approached with a lazy grace, as if the world and all its troubles were mere trifles to him. His arms snaked around your waist, drawing you back against him, his head finding its place on your bare shoulder. The cool night air from the window kissed your skin, but his warmth was a balm you hadn’t realized you’d been seeking. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a fleeting gesture that could be mistaken for affection, followed by a soft chuckle that was as intoxicating as it was disarming.

Aegon was in good spirits tonight, or so it seemed. His presence was magnetic, his charm an irresistible force that pulled you into his orbit despite the undercurrent of dread that always lurked beneath the surface. You knew this tenderness, however sweet, was a precarious thing—a mask that could slip at any moment to reveal the tempest underneath. Yet you leaned into him, seeking solace in the closeness even as it threatened to unravel everything you held together so carefully.

But then, like a gust of wind extinguishing a flame, his smile faded, replaced by a frown that marred his angelic features. You didn’t need to see his face to feel the change, to sense the tension coiling in his body as if he were holding onto something fragile, something that could slip through his fingers and shatter beyond repair.

It was as though he was clutching at a dream, trying to hold onto a world that was slipping away from him. And you, too, were caught in that current, powerless to change the course of the storm that was surely coming. The weight of unspoken words, of a future that neither of you could control.

“You’re far away,” Aegon whispered, his voice barely breaking the stillness that had settled over the room like a heavy shroud.

Before he could say more, you gently took one of his hands, bringing it to your lips and pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. His skin was warm, soft, since he strayed away from sword training. It felt weird, as though the chasm that had opened between you was something that could not be bridged by mere touch. “I’m tired,” you murmured, the exhaustion lacing your voice with a fragility that felt almost foreign to you. “It’s been a long day.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze probing as he turned you around with an effortless grace that belied the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, his tone soft yet edged with something darker, an undercurrent of fear, perhaps. His hands lingered on your waist, grounding you, but also anchoring you to him and the chaos that comes with it.

A sad smile tugged at your lips. You searched for the right words, the right way to explain the gnawing dread that had taken root in your heart. It wasn’t your intention to hurt him, but how could you speak the truth without doing so? “I worry,” you confessed, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. “I worry about everything. In fact, I think I often worry enough for the both of us.”

Your words hung in the air, a fragile admission that seemed to echo in the stillness of the chamber. The night was your sanctuary, the time when you could be together without the prying eyes of the Red Keep, even from the Gods, yet even this sacred space was not immune to the growing tension that lay between you. You felt the strain of it, pulling at the threads of your bond, threatening to unravel the delicate balance you had managed to maintain for so long.

Aegon’s expression darkened, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t quite grasp. His brow furrowed, as if he were trying to understand a riddle that had no answer, his grip on your waist tightening imperceptibly. “You worry too much,” he said finally, his voice barely masking the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. “You worry about things that don’t matter, that will never matter”

But the conviction in his voice, once so reassuring, now felt hollow. You could hear the echo of doubts in your mind. How could you tell him that his recklessness, his disregard for the very things that weighed so heavily on your heart, was tearing you apart? How could you make him see that while he was content to drift through life, you were being dragged under by the currents of responsibility, duty, and the looming shadows of what was to come?

Aegon pulled you closer, his hands tight on your waist, but the embrace felt more like a cage than a comfort. “You’re living in a fantasy,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “A fantasy of duty and responsibility that was never meant for us. We’re meant to live, to enjoy what we have, not to worry about what others expect… because we’re never going to be enough”

His words cut deeper than any blade could. Aegon’s indifference to his own fate, his refusal to see the consequences of his actions, was a stark reminder of how different the two of you truly were. He lived for the moment, for the fleeting pleasures that numbed the pain he refused to acknowledge. But you couldn’t escape the weight of the future, the crushing burden of knowing what was expected of you, of him.

“You can’t escape it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “No matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise, it’s coming for us, Aegon”

“You’re always worrying,” Aegon muttered. “You’re starting to sound like my mother—always telling me what we should be, what we should do, as if we’re some perfect vision of duty.” He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you stop making everything so complicated?”

“I’m sorry—” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. “But I’m afraid, Aegon. It’s terrifying, this situation. Everything… don’t you realize?” You tilted your head, searching his face for any sign that he understood the turmoil that gnawed at your insides.

“We’re alright,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “It’s you who’s making it difficult. You’re the one living in this fantasy—this fantasy of duty and faith, and everything being just— so we don’t repeat the mistakes of those before us. But it’s suffocating.”

You felt the tension coil tighter in your chest, the pressure building as if you were on the edge of a precipice. “Aegon, this isn’t just a fantasy. It’s our reality—our future. The mistakes of the past haunt us because they were real, because they had consequences. We can’t just ignore that.”

"Aegon—" you began, but before you could say another word, he silenced you with a sudden, fevered kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a force that spoke of desperation, the unmistakable taste of wine lingering on his breath. It was typical of him—this reckless need, this hunger that never seemed to be sated. His kiss was all-consuming, a fire that threatened to burn you from the inside out, and though you knew you should resist, his touch was woven so deeply into the fabric of your being that it felt impossible to pull away.

For a moment, you let yourself drown in him, in the way his hands moved up your waist to your back, seeking the laces of your sleep gown with a familiar urgency. But just as quickly, the sole thought of him lost in the arms of strangers, drowning in wine just the night before, flashed through your mind. The memory hit you like a cold wave, pulling you back to the surface of reality, and with a wrenching effort, you pushed him away.

Aegon stared at you, a frown creasing his brow, confusion mingling with the remnants of his frustration.

"Alicent—" you stammered, grasping for anything to say, your voice faltering under the weight of the lie. "She’ll be here early in the morrow," you continued, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears.

He knew it was a lie. You could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger passing through them, but he said nothing. The silence between you stretched thin, taut with unspoken truths and the ever-widening distance that neither of you could bridge. His frustration, his anger—it wasn’t just at you. It was at everything, at the life he was trapped in, at the expectations that crushed him. But that anger, that resentment, was now directed squarely at you, the one person who had always been his refuge, and yet now felt like just another weight dragging him down.

And you felt your own heart ache with a sorrow that words couldn’t express. You loved him—Gods, how you loved him—but that love was starting to feel like a chain.

Aegon let out a chuckle, the sound tinged with a bitterness that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That never worried you before,” he said, his tone almost mocking.

You held his gaze, your own resolve faltering under the weight of the truth you were about to speak. “Can you imagine what they’ll do to me if they ever find out about us?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed a finger to your chest. “How shame and rage will rain upon me, Aegon?”

“That’s not going to happen,” he replied, his voice firm, dismissive, as if sheer will could bend the world to his desires.

But you shook your head. “There are bigger things than us, Aegon,” you said, your voice soft yet heavy with the burden of inevitability.

He rolled his eyes. “What could happen? My mother asking me to marry you?”

“That’s the best-case scenario,” you admitted, a fleeting hope lingering in your words. “But if she doesn’t want to marry my brother to Helaena, what makes you think she’ll marry me to you, the King’s firstborn son?”

“They’re bastards,” he spat out, a familiar venom in his words.

“—As much as I am,” you whispered back, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “This is going nowhere, Aegon,” you continued before he could respond, your voice filled with resignation.

And yet, despite everything, despite the certainty that this was all leading to ruin, you couldn’t let go. Not of him, not of the love that, for all its flaws and dangers, had become the very blood in your veins. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if that love was worth the price you were bound to pay; since this affair was doomed from its beginnings.

Aegon’s expression morphed into something indecipherable, a mask of internal conflict as though he was waging a silent war with himself between the urge to remain and the compulsion to escape. His hesitation was palpable, yet ultimately he opted for departure, unwilling to incite another confrontation that would only drive a deeper wedge between you.

“Where are you going?” you demanded, your voice a cold lance piercing through the darkness, laced with fears.

“You clearly need to reconsider things,” he said, his voice firm and filled with resignation. “You’re entangled in this ideal of the perfect daughter, the flawless princess. We’re not going to get what we desire regardless”

“So you’ll leave me alone?” you asked, the weight of the words feeling like a burden on your tongue. And you couldn’t get angry at him for choosing to leave. It almost feels like you pushed him away.

Aegon’s silence was deafening, his only reply a weary exhale. He cast one final, fleeting glance over his shoulder, a look that seemed to carry an entire world of unresolved emotions and discontent. Then, without another word, he turned and slipped out of your chamber with the same quiet stealth as his arrival, leaving you alone with the heavy stillness of your room. The silence that followed was deafening.

You couldn’t imagine a life without him but the day will come — you’ll be betrothed and taken to some place you hate. And he will be betrothed too. That’s how destiny works for all of you.

The same destiny it’s the reason he opted to numb his running mind with wine and prostitutes… once more.

“Rūklun skoriot se bantis rāpa vūjigon tolvie rūklon,” Helaena voice echoes through the small garden. Her tone always dreamy and soft, like a haunting beautiful dream.

You can’t remember when was the first time you both laid on the soft grass; when was the first time she sang for you; when was the first time she entertained you with her bugs. Now her head is laid on your stomach, as she holds a small creature in her hand. Just admiring them, and you’re glad she’s your friend. She does have that capacity of looking beyond, of truly admiring other beings.

She leaves the small bug on the grass, as she continues her soft singing; “Pōnta ȳdragon isse rāpa tolīmorghon, gūrēñagon gīda isse se zōbrie,”

Helaena is equally glad for your friendship, as you understood her. As she felt cared for; she doesn’t feel like she’s the weird girl everyone claims her to be. For her own family doesn’t seem to care so much about her. You both hear tales and stories… whispers, rumors.

When Viserys and Alicent had welcomed their first son, a healthy, silver-haired heir, they had not anticipated the arrival of a second child so soon after Aegon. Though young and aware of her duty to provide the King with heirs to secure the bloodline, Alicent was overwhelmed. Yet, when her weary and anxious eyes met those of her newborn son, a profound sense of tranquility enveloped her. Aegon would grow to be the King’s heir to the throne but Maelor shall be hers. Forever.

Then came the only girl, and the rest… All but one raised in the most hostile ambient a child can grow.

But she had endured, alway pushed aside. Just a princess, whose fate was to get married to some Lord and be exiled away from home. “Jēda, iā lyka dīnagon, pālegīon pōja jaedos ezīmagon iōrves,” She continued with her soft and haunting voice.

Unease began to creep from the pit of your stomach. Helaena’s singing, usually a balm for worries and terrors, now seemed powerless against this overwhelming dread; this was something you feared nothing could shake away.

Strange days were merely the beginning. They would haunt your sleep, echoing in the dark with the lullabies of Targaryens ghosts.

“You’re such a fool—“ A hushed and forced through teeth phrase came out of Helaena’s grandsire; Otto Hightower.

In an instant, your head whipped around, and Helaena sat up. You didn’t need to see to know what the commotion was about—Otto was dragging Aegon toward his chambers, his grip firm and unforgiving. The sight made your stomach churn with fear, casting a shadow over your thoughts. The King’s alleged heir had a way of making your skin crawl. You haven’t seen him in a couple of days after your fight.

She gazed at you, her lips parting only to release the haunting melody: “Pōja istin jehikagrī ēnka sir rāpūltan, isse iā rāpa, lyka nārhēdegon” (Their once bright hues now softened, in a tender, quiet loss).

Soon, the groans and heavy footsteps melded with the birds’ chirping and the distant murmur of voices from the hallways. Yet, the garden remained an isolated enclave, housing only Helaena’s ethereal song and your tumultuous thoughts. A palpable silence descended, compelling you to whip your head toward her.

Alicent’s only daughter was already regarding you with eyes brimming with worry and regret. It was uncommon for her to look at you this way, and the intensity of her gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“Sealing the bond,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “One will drift away, the other will be chasing phantoms for an eternity” The innocence of her phrase was a dagger to your gut, making you want to retch, as you tasted bile on your tongue. Desperation clawed at you, and you fled, seeking refuge in the only place that could never offer you peace.

The room reeked of stale alcohol and sweat; a reminder of the first and last time you visited an inn. The once repugnant scent was now a grim familiarity. Each morning you arrived early, loyal as a hound and pristine as a dove. But not this morning; delicate petals from the garden were still tangled in your hair. You smell like fresh cut grass. And you’re late.

Aegon lay sprawled on his bed, utterly naked and feigning sleep. He was waiting, because even if he played the role of an idiot, a part of him still cared.

You swallowed hard, “Aegon?” Your voice trembled, a fragile thread of hesitation woven through it. Fear of him was not the issue; it was the looming dread, the haunting sense of something profoundly wrong, lurking just beyond the edges of your understanding.

The mere sight of him being humiliated by any member of his family or by himself was something you’ve become to accept, to make peace with. Aegon hasn’t been on a leash since he was a kid; since his father proclaimed Rhaenyra as his legitimate heir. And so he decided to indulge in the pleasure of the flesh… and alcohol — a sweet but ultimately lethal form of enjoyment. And the fact that he has harbored feelings for you doesn’t even move him into change. Not because of you, but for him. He deserves to be respected and the honor of a house such as the Targaryen. Though, he’s not even respected by his own kin. By his own parents. Viserys was old, probably had an ounce of love for him which burned when he had realized he didn’t need more children to secure the bloodline. His firstborn was still very much alive; even if he was a woman. And Alicent only cherished his twin brother.

Aegon often wondered what it would be like to be the one born looking like a Hightower—instead of being a living reminder to his mother of the sacrifices she had to make, of her stolen childhood, and of every unavenged wound. Would he then be wanted as much as Maelor is? Deep down, he knew it was a futile dream. He tried not to care, but the fear of being crushed under the weight of everyone’s expectations gnawed at him incessantly.

After all, Maelor, has much more of a tender temperament and Aemond’s intellect and wit, which seemed to embody everything Aegon was not. His eyes were a warm, inviting brown, complementing his auburn hair—a perfect reflection of Alicent. He looked human, soft, approachable, and kind. In Aegon’s eyes, Maelor was the epitome of what Alicent desired, a role Aegon could never fulfill.

You dusted off your pale dress, swallowing down your rising frustration and anger. It wasn’t in your nature to be quick to anger, to point the finger, to blame others for their mistakes. But today, his actions felt unbearable. “Do—Do you even care?” Your voice sounded pathetic, a desperate plea for recognition, affection — just to be seen by yout lover.

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. Everything was too bright, too loud for his liking, especially after Otto Hightower’s sermonizing. “Uhm—? Ah, oh,” He yawned, shifting to make himself more comfortable in bed. “Yes, sure.”

His indifference sparked a surge of anger within you, the bile rising to tinge your throat with its bitter taste. “I’m being serious.”

“Don’t speak so loud…” He groaned, dismissive. But he was the one who sought comfort in your arms the last time you saw each other. “You should go, I don’t want any of your services”

It makes your blood seethe, each word from him striking like arrows piercing through your heart. The indignity of being called a whore stings with a venomous edge.

It was always a struggle to engage in conversation with him when he was saturated with the remnants of last night’s excesses. But today felt especially grueling; your patience is unraveling, eroded by the relentless tide of his cruelty.

You approached his bed, standing close enough to block the sunlight that accentuated his handsome features. You wanted to scream, to hit him, hoping that maybe then he would love you, maybe then he would strive to be better and meet your expectations. But Aegon wasn’t a fool; he knew you were the only one who forgave him every single time, without him even trying. Gathering all your courage, you spoke the words that had been festering within you: “You’re pathetic.”

So you think that too? He knew everything couldn’t be perfect. Aegon understood he was doomed, marked by fate’s cruel design. He knows this truth intimately… yet, despite everything, he clings to hope with a desperation that borders on madness. Because you’re the only one seeing him with different and softer eyes.

He can’t think because his mind is flooded with guilt, of everything that happened last night… Of everything he’s ever done to you, whether good or bad. “Go pester Maelor, he looks just like me. I’m sure he can entertain you… Maybe he won’t pleasure you as well as I do. But after all, all whores are the same, I’m sure he won’t mind”

Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. His cruelty cuts deep, making you question if any of it is worth it—the sacrifices, the hurt, the strange looks, and your bleeding heart. Are they worth the fleeting moments of bliss? He’s capable of loving, and being kind — he has shown you that. Sometimes you like to fool yourself thinking that he actually cares about you, that maybe he thinks you’re more than just a pawn following everything he says… More than just a girl staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Thinking maybe, just maybe… he actually sees you.

But it’s the indifference, and his insolent words that creates a wall. One you’re too tired to try and bring it down.

You snort, deciding to play his game, ethough you know it will keep destroying everything. “Maybe I will, Aegon. Maelor has more honor in his little finger than you’ll ever have. You just wallow in your own filth.”

You speak with distaste, the words hurting you as much as they hurt him, because they come from a place of anger, a vengeful side you despise. It makes you want to throw up; the mere idea to succumb into your rage.

You turned around, unable to bear looking at him. If you meet his eyes, you’ll collapse under the weight of your own emotions and beg for forgiveness, even though it’s not your fault. You just wanted to make amends. “Do you know you’re throwing everything away, Aegon?” you ask, your voice trembling with the weight of despair. You don’t expect an answer. He already knows.

“I’ve been on my knees, begging for some kind of forgiveness from the Gods, for even the slightest hint of their consideration,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of raw, unrestrained anguish. “Yet you persist in pushing me away. I’m on the brink, exhausted, uncertain if I have anything left to offer. I’ve sacrificed so much, endured countless trials for you, and now you cast me aside as if I were nothing.”

Each word was a dagger, cutting through the fragile silence with a bitter clarity. The raw pain in your voice seemed to resonate through the cold stone walls, echoing the deep fissures in your heart.

Unable to sustain the crushing burden of your sorrow, you turned abruptly and fled the room, covering your face and red rimmed eyes with your hands. The guards who opened the gates offered no solace, their stony expressions betraying no empathy. The heavy silence of the Red Keep was a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. You knew Aegon’s chambers were a sanctuary at this hour, shielded from the prying eyes of the court, save for the ever-watchful presence of Alicent.

“Princess,” a voice cut through your despair. You halted abruptly, your heart sinking as you recognized the only Hightower-looking son of Alicent. His eyes were filled with a mixture of curiosity and pity — not like he cared about you.

“Alicent is looking for you,” he said, his tone imbued with a sense of quiet urgency.

You lowered your hands, exposing your tear-stained face. The pain was a palpable force, constricting your throat and making it difficult to speak.

“Did Aegon do something to you?” he asked, his concern etched into every word, but the shy smirk betrayed him — not that you would catch it.

“No—no,” you choked out, shaking your head as if to dispel the crushing weight of your emotions. “I’m just—” The words faltered, it was not only pointless but dangerous to explain. “Where’s Alicent?”

— next chapter

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen twin #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen angst #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen au #tom glynn-caney’s #gaius julius caesar

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lohotine · 8 months ago

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Request: can you make White lily as shadow milk cookie and Fem!reader as a loyal servant to White lily

Pure vanilla,hollyberry,golden cheese and Dark cacao is gonna see this and Say NNNNOOOOO!!!(ded💀)

AN: When you say White Lily as Shadow Milk, I think you're talking about like.. possession? So like, shadow milk is using White Lily's body? If this isn't what you meant, I'm sorry 🙏 If you want, you can request again and ill work on another one. Um but.. I think I did an okay job... enjoy ☆

White Lily as Shadow Milk Cookie x Fem! Servant

Oneshot (headcanons below)

Warnings: Def not canon, slight remarks of possessiveness

-Devotion-

The purist white hair, a dedicated heart, and the feint smell of Liles. Those were the feature of the person before you. This person should have been her; One of the Ancient Heros, and yet, that was not the case. This was somebody else... A certain blue jester of decite.

You knew this, and yet you still followed them so willingly, and so blindly. Was it because of the promise to rule the world... or was it for some other reason?

"Oh button, are you ready?" The person would ask.

White Lily was known for her violet eyes, the ones that held a passion for protecting all of cookie kind. This person was lacking that, though.

These eyes were an electric and sky blue, and the only things behind them was the hope to see the world burn.

And, it was in that moment that you finally realized why you would follow Shadow Milk like this.

It was because of the way he could make your heart flutter, like no other person had been able to.

"I am," You'd respond while taking White Lily's hand.

The cookie would smile at you with that crazed expression before appearing on a stage with you.

"I know that all of you have been waiting to see the star of the show, and here I am at last!"

White Lily would do a bow dedicated towards the audience.

That audience being the four other Ancient Heros.

Discussion between the others would begin to stir. Some were filled with feat, other hate, and a few, utter confusion.

Pure Vanilla knew who was on stage instantly, and he would look at you with a concerned look. "That person is not White Liliy," He'd explain.

Of course, you were already aware of this.

"Oh dearest dove-" White Lily would say while taking your hand.

"Are you ready to test your devotion?"

《☆》 Fin

Headcanons

You were originally loyal to White Lily

And you noticed the change in behavior and eye color immediately

He saw something special in you and decided to keep you around

Was very glad he did because you're amazing!

Calls you things like dove, doll, button, dear, devotee

Probably likes to dance with you

Like, box steps and things like that

You have to listen to his rants about the other ancients

Hated P.V in particular

100% manipulates you

Uses sweet talk to get what he wants

Will complain if you don't play dolls with him

The ancients have to lose.

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uwukillmenowowo · 1 month ago

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Hello I saw your platonic Crk story with the beast cookies and I was just rewatching the theater of lies episode and I got an idea, what if the reader gets so angry at Shadow milk cookie that they just scream "SHUT IT!" which stuns everyone into silence not even knowing the reader could get that mad, if you're not comfortable with writing this or simply don't want to that's completely alright 😊

o_O

interesting- Interesting indeed-

I could've made this so much more simple but- I didn't ToT

Annoyance

[PLATONIC]

(Beast Cookies X Reader)

Notes:

Reader will be Non-binary

#Peaceful Mode

Simple mind things

The Beasts were revived. What was the first thing they did? Find their little sibling of course.

{SecondPOV}

~~~~~

You were shocked to see your old friends in front of front of you again. The difference was not only in their appearance and names but their personality too. Blueberry Milk in particular. Or rather... Shadow Milk Cookie. He used to be your best friend... Now he's your greatest annoyance.

Before he was the most quiet and the "Hold my hand when crossing the road" friend now he's the "Jackass bitch I wanna strangle but they're still my friend" friend.

Ever day..

And I mean- EVER DAY- He's annoying you with something different before rambling on and on.

"[Reader] Cookie, why did you dye your frosting? You know I loved it [H/c]? Can I change it back?"

"[Reader] Cookie, Why are your drawing the soul jam thieves?... What do you mean they aren't thieves!?"

"[Reader] Cookie, who are Espresso Cookie and Madeline Cookie? They aren't your boyfriends are they?"

"[Reader] Cookie~! Come look at my new puppets~!"

You were getting fed up because most of the time he would bother you when you're working on important stuff.

But this time. You were working on something VERY important. Crushed Spice- Err... Burning Spice Cookie. He recently had to fight the other Wild spices because something happened. In the process, his favorite bracelet got damaged and you were fixing it.

Before, Burning Spice didn't really care about his appearance, but now he did. He wanted to look powerful and offered you somehting you couldn't refuse. So you had to fix it for him.

Leaning in closer so that you can see it better, you carefully started to melt some golden cheese so that you can fix it. Liquid cheese can get very hot so you had to be very careful when- "Wow! Would you look at that!" "WAAAHHH!!"

Screaming in shock at the sudden cookie you dropped all the liquid cheese onto Burning Spice's bracelet, absolutely covering it in liquid cheese. You stared at Shadow Milk Cookie before looking at Burning Spice's bracelet, and then back at Shadow Milk Cookie. "Are you kidding me...?" You asked in disbelief.

"Heeey~ What's it matter? I just-" You started to tune out Shadow Milk Cookie as you stared at the ruined bracelet.

THE ONE THING THAT BURNING SPICE WANTED SO THAT HE WOULD TAKE YOU TO MEET THE OTHER SPICES.

Yup! That was it! All you wanted was the meet the other Spices! but Burning Spice never allowed you because it was too dangerous! The reason why you've always wanted to go is because you helped a little Kulfi get home a couple years ago and you promised to meet them again!

"-Surely it can't be that bad-"

"SHUT IT ALREADY YOU UNKNOWLEDGEABLE, DECEPTIVE- *grumble* *grumble* DUMMY!!"

Shadow Milk, who sat across from you, paused.

Burning Spice who just walked in to check on his bracelet, went slack jawed.

Silent Salt, who was with Burning Spice, felt his soul gem die.

Mystic Flour and Eternal Sugar gasped and snorted respectively.

They didn't know how to react. How could they? Years ago, you were the cookie who would always say, "Mind your manners, it's not nice" With a small pout on your face.

But now- you just told your best friend that he was being an annoying bitch-

Shadow Milk Cookie in particular, stared at you in shock.

All of a sudden- he fainted and started frothing at the mouth.

Meanwhile, you just walked away, grumbling to yourself.

"That's not my best friend... Never has been."

~ (OwO) ~

I could've made this more simple than it had to be so I dunno why I went with lore...

#cookie run kingdom #Platonic #CRK #CRK X Reader #beast cookies #shadow milk cookie #burning spice cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #silent salt cookie #Small angst..?

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outofconcheol · 4 months ago

Text

bloodline (JWW x F!Reader) - Teaser

pairing: vampire professor!wonwoo x TA!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, fantasy au, 18+

summary: Cursed to a solitary existence, Wonwoo seeks a cure for his condition - enlisting the help of his diligent teacher's assistant. However, you refuse to let Professor Jeon go through with the cure without first teaching him the wonders of having something worth living for. When your tired souls find solace in your shared loneliness, friendship (and something more) blooms. But what happens when that isn’t enough? When the secrets that both you and Wonwoo have been harboring finally catch up to you? Will you and Wonwoo make the most of every moment, or will the aftermath of his quest leave you both even lonelier than before?

warnings (to be updated with final fic): tw: this fic deals with Wonwoo being tired of his vampirism and essentially wanting to end his life as a vampire (whatever that may entail - stay tuned), mentions blood, Wonwoo has dark and depressing thoughts, that's all for now but just know we are in for a ride :)

word count: 619 for the teaser, TBD for final fic

a/n: I've been thinking about this for a long time, and with me wanting to write more for SVT, I decided it was finally time to take the plunge! Please note that this is going to be an angsty journey, with lots of inspiration from pieces such as Thirst (2009), Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), and the Vampire Tapestry by Suzie McKee Charnas. As always, if these themes are not for you, please take care of yourself (your wellbeing comes first always). Also, thank you to the lovely sèvn (@aaagustd/@xscoupsx) for the banner. I hope you enjoy!

The bust sits in the corner of the office, nestled away in an alcove by the window. On sunnier days, when the light would hit it, the marble would reflect brilliantly, its ivory tones taking the appearance of an angel, a silent guardian watching over Wonwoo while he worked. Most of the time, it loomed in the shadows, its unsettling presence doing nothing more than to serve as a reminder that despite his physical appearance, Wonwoo was closer to the cold, unfeeling marble than he was to any of the human peers he’d encountered through the centuries.

Wonwoo can’t recall when in his travels he’d come across the statue, eight hundred years blurring together into a muddle, countless memories fading into oblivion, delicate threads disappearing in the intricate fabric of his mind. Maybe at one point it’d been a gift from a dear friend, or maybe even a lover, but Wonwoo simply couldn’t remember any of it at all. A lifetime of indulgence and hedonism meant that seeking pleasure had long lost its charm.

What more was there to study when Wonwoo had studied it all? From stepping into battle during the middle ages, joining the height of enlightenment during the Renaissance, and witnessing the advent of modern technology in the past century or so, Wonwoo had lingered in the background, slipping easily into the folds of human society. And it all lead him here, to this room that felt more like a box than an office, sifting through countless essays from a batch of college students who were as disinterested in learning about anthropology as Wonwoo had become with his own life.

Even now, he casts his gaze over to his faint reflection in the window, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, lean and lonely-looking. To the untrained eye, professor Jeon Wonwoo was the picture of innocence, milking the image of a solitary bachelor devoted to pursuing a lifetime of knowledge, much to the chagrin of many of his pupils. But Wonwoo saw what no one else did - the faint tinge of red in his eyes, a sign that he’d gone hungry for too long, the needle-like barb under his tongue that had known the taste of blood too many times. All signs of the monster that layed within.

The efforts of concealing his true nature had finally caught up to him - the mask that he’d put on, feigning interest in human art, science, and culture finally slipping from his face. Simply put, Wonwoo was tired - restless from years of fighting the hunger, pretending that he cared for this life he’d crafted for himself. In reality, it was all a farce. Wonwoo had given up human blood long ago, but feasting on animals wasn’t enough to quell the burning inside him.

In the end, he craved. Wonwoo was a thief, because he craved the one thing that was a lifesource for humans - their anima, their joie de vivre. He craved it because he didn’t have one of his own, nothing that drove him, that fueled him to keep going. Humans felt things - they felt happiness, sadness, anger and love. Emotions were so intertwined into the mesh of their lives that they craved any experiences that would give them more - from weddings and parties for families and friends, to random hook-ups, to even the thrill of dangerous situations.

He’d read the essays his students had written - some of them talking about how humanity loved the society they’d crafted so much, that science was constantly coming up with new ways to prolong life, to keep on living. And yet, it didn’t move him. Wonwoo was tired of living just to live. Which is why he’d chosen to die.

a/n pt. 2: if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! I work a pretty busy job, so I'm not sure when the anticipated release date, will be, but I'm going to try to work on this as much as I can. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

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formerlycookierunauprompts · 10 months ago

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I'm a sucker for fluffy prompts...maybe something with sleepy cuddles with shadow milk? (I apologize If this is a bit vague I'm not the best at wording things like this, haha.)

so I may have felt like doing a bit of pre-corruption Shadow Milk writing... :3 anyways enjoy!!

Requested Prompts #22 - 💝💓

You stalked through the halls of the Spire of Knowledge, if your gut feeling was correct then surely Shadow Milk Cookie was not taking a break like you told him to... Again. And sure enough, upon entering his room, you found him slumped over his desk surrounded by books, papers and the like. All in the pursuit of knowledge, was always his excuse for overworking himself. You certainly didn't like it, but what could you do to stop someone who was quite literally a giant most of the time? You sigh, at least you didn't have to climb tables and walls and basically anything just to talk to him. Blessed be the witches that you were baked with the ability to create portals. So, with a quick portal on up, you were standing on the table. " Shadow Milk Cookie," You began, stern and concerned. " What have I told you about staying up so late?" You see him stir, his blue eyes flickering open before settling onto your tiny form. " Reader Cookie..." He mumbled out, resting a hand behind you. " I didn't mean to this- yawn- time..." You sigh, he must have lost track of the time again. You let him press you against his cheek, as some sort of weird abstract cuddle sort of thing. " Alright, alright. Just make sure to get to bed soon, it's three AM." " Yeah yeah... i get it..." He mumbled, already drifting back asleep. It was hard to not see him as adorable sometimes, yet he worked too hard! If only you were big like the saviors, then you'd be able to do something more. But you still do as much as you can with your small stature, and so far it's been enough. But... There might come a time where you won't be enough. But it's probably far off in the future, so it won't be a problem... Right? ... Right.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #crk #shadow milk cookie #cookie run au prompts #cr kingdom #beast yeast #shadow milk cookie x reader #might have thrown in some angst as well. fuck.#angsty fluff #anon if you want me to redo it then i will with proper eepy fluff

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barbieaemond · 11 months ago

Text

A snake in the bosom

Moodboard by the queen herself @zae5

PAIRING: Prince Regent Aemond x Lady!reader

WARNINGS: dark Aemond, angst, public humiliation, semi public sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), religious kink, knife kink if you squint, overstimulation, light choking.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

Author’s note: House Peake were green loyalists during the Dance. Shout out to @zae5 who helped me brain storming this filth 🫶

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke

The skies rumble as they always do when preluding a storm. But it’s different this time. The thunder echoes in your chest, sliding through your ribs and then rattling them to break free.

A warning, the Gods’ way to seal what cannot be undone. They greet this new day, this new order, with blinding lightning. The Wood seems bathed by the early morning light, and yet the owls will soon resume their sentry task on the branches of these ancient trees.

A new flash forces you to look up and you think you can see them, the Seven, leaning out from their perches, pointing a finger at a woman like any other, with her bowed head devoted to obedience and her tight corset to choke to death any desire inside her heart.

And you did.

You stopped going to the library, you kept your eyes faithfully down, weeding out the need to caress the silver through your gaze, to feel the cold alabaster carved into angles so precise and sharp as to be exhausting.

You stopped lingering on the delicacy of long white fingers turning pages, on white knuckles around the sword, rippling with veins, blue and green as snakes crawling underneath.

Not looking didn't do much good.

It's all burned into your eyelids, and the more you don't look the more your mind betrays you like a stab in the back, evoking slender hands and an arched mouth that lazily pulls itself up into an omniscient smirk.

It happens so often that you've come to terms with it. Desire is a shadow that follows you step by step, crawls into your bed as you lie with your husband, makes you close your eyes as you peak and in the darkness that shadow is finally flesh, pulsing and weighing on you, but it is not.

It shouldn’t and it will never.

The lightning tells you can no longer hide, there is no way to stall now, no way to trick the King about the allegiance of your family. It is easy to fool a fool, more so when he’s willing to make himself one in front of a woman. But the King is burned. His cries of pain can be heard outside Maegor’s Holdfast, until the Maesters are merciful enough to give him milk of the poppy.

The throne is empty, the Kingdom has no ruler. But the Gods are snickering with thrill and dread.

Not for long.

“My lady, there’s a storm coming.”

You turn and see your maid clutching a cloak to her chest to shelter from the wind. "Please, you should go back inside.”

You nod tiredly, walking on the thick grass, dragging yourself back within these walls in which days seem to pass following two different times.

There’s the real, urgent one, a military up and down of whispers and promises, pawns moving and ravens coming and going, breaking or forging alliances as easy and quick as their wings flapping. And then there’s your time, dilated, obscenely slow, like molasses. It sticks to your fingers, prevents you from picking up ink and parchment and write, cheat, whisper what you have easily spilled from the worn out lungs of your husband.

“Men sing like parrots in their final throes, remember that. They’d tell you anything when they think with their cock.”

Samantha had been right. But your sister is playing her game in Oldtown and Old Town is not the Red Keep. There are no eyes on the walls there, or ears behind the portraits. There’s no shadow trailing on her path, clouding her mind enough to look away from the game. A game of life and death, your father reminded you in his last letter, the scolding clear in the way the feather had pierced the parchment in some points. The answer was nowhere but in your head, and you were too ashamed to even confess it to a Septa, let alone put it on paper. There’s a snake crawling in your garden of lies and instead of chasing it away, you’re nursing it in your bosom.

You slow your steps upon glimpsing your husband. He’s striding towards you along the corridor. There’s a slight furrow between his brows, one that you have been able to recognize on the faces of many within this fortress. But it's more severe now, or maybe it's just that shadow that makes you see a new man, a stranger.

Has his hair always been that dull and mousy? Has his posture always been so unassuming?

They have since that night in the library, the sin whispers.

“Husband.”

“I’ve been looking for you. We have been summoned to the throne room.”

“Is something the matter? Is the King—"

"The King lives. But the Maesters believe it is best to confine him to bed. Come, Prince Aemond is waiting for us." he grabs your arm and you walk with him, glad that he can’t see the shadow falling on your face at the mention of the King’s brother.

The throne room is so dark that servants are hurrying themselves to light more candles. Every now and then a new lightning flashes from the large windows, making the Iron Throne an eerie sight at the center of the Hall.

There are a few Lords of the court with their ladies, and they seem just as lost as you as they see you and your husband halting before the ancient seat.

Whereas not more than a moon ago, Lords and Ladies would have had to wait hours to be received by Aegon, the new ruler is not long in coming.

The huge doors open and Aemond Targaryen stalks the room carrying the same storm breaking outside. He makes a striking figure, ominous; the lighting pours on his long silver hair making them look like moon rays.

A dreamy picture, were it not for the conqueror's crown on his head and the sapphire in plain sight.

It is the first time you see him without the eyepatch, the first time anyone has seen him without it. They said he wore it so as not to frighten the ladies, but the one-eyed Prince is done hiding. And if fear is all he can muster, so be it. It serves him well for what will come.

He halts before the Iron Throne and takes a good look at the little gathering. You can’t help but trail your eyes on his lean and tall figure, wearing a dark green doublet made of velvet. But it’s the sapphire that catches your eye, and the long scar marring his marbled face.

You remember that one. You remember it shamefully clear while disappearing along with his head beneath your gown.

“My lords” he starts lacing his hands behind his back “As you may know, my brother is in no condition to rule. Thus, according to the law, in case of physical or mental incapacity of the sovereign, the younger brother must bear the weight of the crown.”

There is a shy, almost uneasy passing of glances between those present, but Aemond ignores them altogether. “I will not style myself as King. You will address me as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm."

Silence falls upon the huge Hall until a loud thunder seem to awaken one of the lords who hurriedly bends his knee before the Prince. "My Prince, I renew my absolute loyalty to you and your—“

"Get up, my Lord, I did not summon you to hear you pledge your loyalty.” He says in a bored tone, darting his eye at the man “Rest assured, if I had any doubt about it, Vhagar would be feasting on your corpse as we speak.”

Silence falls once more and Aemond revels in it. He can smell fear, just like the creature he rides. “But you did raise an interesting subject.” he tilts his head and looks at Lord Peake, your husband, with a benevolent expression stretching on his face. “Lord Peake, if I asked you to pledge your loyalty to me and my family, would you do it?”

You dare not to raise your head, keeping your eyes glued to the ground, but you can sense your husband’s uneasiness, the sound close to one being insulted as he addresses the Prince. “Prince Aemond, my loyalty to your Grandsire and the Dowager Queen has never wavered and it never shall.”

The Prince nods slowly, seemingly pleased by the answer, and keeps his gaze down for a few moments before casting a sharp glance at you. You can’t see it but you can feel it.

“That is very noble of you, Lord Peake. But I can’t help but wonder, is your lady wife of the same mind as you?”

Lord Peake looks puzzled, shifting the weight on his feet “My Prince, my wife is—”

“No.” Aemond cuts him off, darting a single look at the Lord before returning on you “Let her speak.”

With a deep breath, you look up, shrinking under his violet eye and the sapphire ominously glinting of his own light. “My prince, I am saddened that your Grace would think I’m nothing but loyal to your brother, the one and only heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Every day, I pray the Gods to heal him from his burns and give him strength to—”

“Hush.” He says, raising a hand to stop you. “That’s enough.”

You shut your mouth nervously, tensing all the more as he looks at you, unblinking, for a long moment before his lips stretch into a slow, cunning smirk.

“You know, I spoke to your distant cousin once, Lord…something Tyrell. He said something very interesting to me.”

You keep a blank face even when dread starts to run down your spine. Despite the distant kinship, there’s always been bad blood between Tarlys and Tyrells.

“He said to be very careful with Tarly women. Pretty vapid things, he said, hiding a viper’s bite.”

“I am neither my prince.” you state calmly “I’m just a woman like any other, serving my husband, my house, my King.”

“Hmm.” He ponders, the smile lingering still. Then, he picks something form his pocket and asks “What is this then?”

Despite the darkness, you could recognize that seal with eyes closed. And that seal, now, in this room, clutched by Prince Aemond’s fingers, is a death sentence.

“This is not the seal of House Peake.” he rightly says.

You look down, mustering your courage, and say “No, your Grace. That is just a silly token of love between two sisters. I use it to send ravens to my sister in Oldtown.”

“I see. And why do you hide it?”

“I do not, your Grace.”

“Lying to the King may cost your head, my Lady. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Wife…” your husband takes your arm, searches your face with an anxious stare “What is going on?”

“The White cloaks found it.” The Prince informs him “when I made them search your rooms.” He looks back at you and raises an eyebrow “For a token you’re supposed to be so fond of, I may suggest placing it somewhere else than the bottom of an old trunk.”

“Am I on trial for sending letters to my sister?”

“Yes. Considering the circumstances under which these ravens were sent. Ladies give letters to their maids, they do not go personally to the rookery, more so in the hour of the bat.”

Courage leaves you like a gust of wind. You thought you had been clever, careful. Why would anyone take notice of a court lady simply taking a walk in the early hours? And even if they had, they would have dismissed the thought at the first distraction. But not him.

“You think I would not notice? I may be half blind but I can assure you, my lady, I see everything.” He throws the seal on the ground and resumes his soldier-like posture, standing tall and domineering with his arms laced back. “What did you tell your sister? Knowledge about our war plans? Are you secretly siding with the Blacks? I’d advise you to choose your words carefully. From them depends whether you’ll see the next dawn or not.”

Your shoulders slump a little, like a doomed creature sticking its head in the noose.

“My father asked me to spy on my husband to gather knowledge about the green army at Rook’s Rest. But I did not send any raven. I stopped since—"

“Since what? Do continue, my lady, I think your Lord husband is keen to know why his wife stopped playing him like a fool.” He leans his head forward, like someone desperately willing to hear a big secret, but your tongue is a dead thing in your mouth.

“No?” he inquires as silence stretches “Fine, I’ll tell you. You see, Lord Peake, recently your Lady wife seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the library.” the prince says with a little grin “I’m aware of this because I am myself an avid reader. In fact, your lady wife and I have been keeping each other company lately. A rather…intimate company.”

Some of the ladies start to whisper at your back, and you know what kind of words they’re labeling you.

“Wife.” Your husband calls, and this time his voice is steel “What is the meaning of this?”

You open and close your mouth, unsure whether it is worse to tell your husband how you’ve played him or to confess your sin.

“Come, don't deny it now.” the Prince goads you “All the hours you've spent, all those late nights did bear fruit, did they not? You've betrayed your house and the Crown, yet what sweetness it was to have gotten a taste, I'm sure your husband would agree.”

Lord Peaks looks utterly bewildered, shifting his gaze between you and the Prince like a dead fish.

“Oh, so he hasn't after all.” Aemond laughs “A pity, for your treacherous essence reeks of the most bittersweet nectar. Tart, but delicious.”

Your husband’s face is whiter than a sheet for a moment, followed by a red veil of anger and shame. The latter is in plain sight in the way you keep your head down; the Gods have stopped pointing their finger at you and left you in the claws of a much crueler creature. Namely, your own desire.

“Search her.” Aemond orders returning to a stern face “And search her thoroughly.”

“My prince?” asks one of the guards.

“Women can be sneaky with all those veils and layers. Lose the corset.”

The cloaks look at him puzzled, just as you and your husband and anyone else in the room, but the guards know better than to disobey the King.

One of them goes to stand behind you and starts pulling the laces of your dress, another is busying himself with lowering your sleeves.

Your eyes bore to the ground with the purest humiliation as your chest gradually grows exposed. You could raise your hands to hide your breast, but you have nothing to hide, not anymore.

You know it and Aemond knows too. He’s not doing this because he thinks you’re hiding something. He’s doing so for his own pleasure—to see you bare, to finally make you come out of your den and stop hiding from him.

You dare not look at him but you can feel his eye lingering on you, on your body; you can sense the ghost of a delighted smirk on that wicked mouth.

He takes an unreasonably long time before he gives a short nod to the guards, at last satisfied with your public humiliation. What drives your husband to move is not regard for you, but for his own dignity. What are women if not property of men? And however ruined you are now, Lord Peake will not have talk of his wife standing with her breasts out in the Throne Room.

But just as he leans down to you, the Prince speaks “You may go, Lord Peake. All of you.”

The Lord stalls, looking lost at his Prince.

“You can wait outside. She stays.” Aemond commands.

His eye is boring into you as he walks down the few steps with leisure, lingering on the sole of his boot before resting it on the ground. “She needs to learn the price of her disobedience.”

Your husband hesitates, looks at you with lingering disdain and a veil of fear that keeps his eyes wide open, but he can only bow his head.

When you’re left alone the Prince, save for the guards on the four sides of the hall, you dare to look up and see his eye blazing, a cunning edge to it.

He starts circling around you, and what’s left of your dignity makes your hands fly up to cover your chest.

“You said you stopped writing to your sister. And you stopped coming to the library.” he starts with a collected and calm voice. “Why?”

“You know why.” you mutter.

“You better drop this condescending tone if you want to leave this room with your head on your shoulders.”

“Apologies, my Prince. I did not mean to offend you. But I dim you wise enough to understand why I thought it was best to keep my distance from you.”

He stops his circling for a moment “Enlighten me.” and then he’s pacing again.

You swallow, smelling ashes and smoke on his trail. “It was a sin.”

“Hmm. Which one?” He asks somewhere behind you. Out the corner of your eye, you see him slightly leaning towards you, silver rolling past his shoulder as he cocks his head to one side “Your betrayal or the fact that you let me feast on your cunt like a common whore?”

You swallow again. Shame is still coiling in your belly, but there’s also something else on hearing those words coming from his mouth, recalling that night. This man has just humiliated you in front of the court and yet you crave for him to get closer.

“Both.”

“Both?”

“I did not want to.” You say and it’s true. And this, this is the last chance you might have to avoid the pike, or worse, Vhagar’s fangs. “My father forced me.” You say turning your head left and right as he resumes his pacing behind you “I don’t know which kind of deal he has struck with Prince Daemon but I swear it, my Prince, I said nothing about Rook’s Rest, I—“

The word dies on your tongue along with your breath as you feel the coldness of a sharp blade against your throat.

“I should slit your throat here and now.” He whispers dangerously, you can hear his teeth gritting. His arm is pressing on your chest, keeping you locked against him. “What else Lord Tarly ordered you in all his great wisdom? Mh? To seduce me? To play me like a fool, like you played my brother and your husband to gather knowledge about our armies and report it to my uncle and his whore?”

“No, I—" you try to say, but he presses the blade firmer and you choke a gasp, unconsciously grabbing his arm.

“You will speak when I say so.” He seethes, pulling your arm back with his other hand, painfully twisting your bone until a moan of pain escapes your mouth.

It awakens something inside him, something savage that makes him collide his body against yours “Hmm.” He coos darkly in your ear “This brings me back to that night.”

He swiftly twirls the dagger, sheathing the Valyrian steel, but his hand is quick to resume his caging, sliding on your half-covered breast, looking down your shoulders at your bare chest.

His fingers are cold as they slowly travel up, but they lick flames on your skin, making your nipples harden. “Do you remember, little snake? I do.” he runs the tip of his finger on the hard sensitive skin and you whimper softly “It was hard to forget the sounds you made.” He speaks to your neck, his breath scorching “I could hear them when I fucked my hand at night. You made me sin so many times. Was that part of the plan too? Did your father force you to moan my name while you peaked on my tongue?”

“Please…” you sob quietly, feeling fire nestling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his bulge against your lower back.

“Do you moan like that when your husband fucks you? Mh?”

He wants an answer, and he pinches one of your nipples when you don’t please him.

“No…”

“No? I thought so.”

Your body reacts on his own, clenching for how his voice in your ear pools like liquid fire below your stomach. You can see his delighted smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You better speak now, little one. Not even the Gods can save you from the spike. Why would they? They turn their backs on traitors and sinners. And you dared to sin with a Kinslayer. You have only me to beg for mercy.”

“You don’t want to kill me.” You choke when his hand laces around your throat.

He would’ve done it already. He might still do it, but his pressing hardness on your back tells you otherwise.

“No. I have a better use for you.” he says squeezing your neck “I will make an example out of your treacherous mouth. They will look at you and be reminded of the mercy of my crown.”

He steps back and you have little time to catch your breath as he sits on the Iron Throne with the confidence of a God on his perch. The candles mix with lightnings, making the blue of the sapphire and the obsidian of the crown shimmer in a disturbing way.

He rests his arms along the forged swords, his long legs almost sprawled out on the ground. “Come and pledge your loyalty, my lady.”

Your heart hammers in your throat as you swallow. This is a game of life or death, but not now. Your two times have merged into a perpetual dizziness and you’re sinking into the claws of your desire like quicksand.

“No.” he admonishes with a voice like honey when you dare a step closer “On your knees. Like the sinner you are.”

You sink to the ground and his eye goes down with you, smirking with something savage flashing on his face. “Go ahead.” He says spreading his legs around you. “Take your blessing.”

You raise your hands slowly, close to his belt but when you start unbuckling it you find there’s no tremor in your fingers. And he’s too quick to notice. “You wanted this, do you?” he asks “Did you close your eyes and pretend to suck my cock instead of your husband’s?”

The buckles clink together as you finish the unbuckling but he suddenly leans over you, gripping your cheeks with a hold of iron.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” You quickly, shamefully say.

The left edge of his mouth pulls up tiredly, omnisciently. “How? Like this?” In a blink his long fingers breach your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you choke on them. He pulls them back just slightly, grazing your tongue, and he looks at you with a lustful blaze in his eye.

“Suck.” he orders, and you oblige, keeping your eyes on him as your mouth close around his two fingers, sucking gently and twirling your tongue around the skin.

“Hmm.” He croons with pleasure, leaving your mouth abruptly to lean back against the throne, sliding a little on the ancient seat to push his crotch before you. He makes haste of pulling his cock out, giving it a few tugs while he keeps looking at you, at the longing darkening your eyes and wetting your gowns.

You take hold of his hard hot length, all veiny and leaking from the tip and it’s only natural for you to close your lips around it. You have obscenely dreamed of this.

He lets out a loud gasp, gripping the throne with his hands as your head goes down, taking him all in. It hits the back of your throat with a lewd choking sound; you breathe through your nose, resuming your holy punishment once you have adjusted to length and girth, sucking hard and fast.

"Greedy little thing.” He praises with his eye growing heavy with pleasure “Easy. Easy, now.” he goads you to slow down, and you do, looking up to see him watching you closely, his lips parted, his breath slow and puffed.

“Fuck—” he curses, titling his head back but keeping his eye fixed on you. “See? This is the only good use for your cheating mouth. And you look so pretty.”

The ache between your legs is unbearable, you’re swollen and wet, you can feel your undergown dampening.

“Are you soaked for me, hmm? I bet you’re dripping all over the Conqueror’s swords.”

You have no way to answer as you keep bobbing your head up and down, a sinner worshipping her own sin.

“Open your mouth—wide” he orders and you do, drooling all over him as he starts to thrust harshly in your mouth.

“Yes. Like this, yes—fuck” He pumps in and out, bucking his hips, hitting your throat on and on while he moans helplessly and loudly, as only a King on his throne can.

“Hollow your cheeks.” And when you do it, something snaps inside him. He grabs your hair, pulling at the roots painfully while he keeps fucking your mouth frantically, choking your breath. But you don’t mind. This could be your last day, your last hour breathing. The snake is sucking at your bones and you welcome the poison.

“Enough.” he croaks when he was starting to breathe too fast, too close to the end. “Get up.”

Your knees ache as you pull yourself up but he’s so quick in lifting up your skirts and grabbing your waist to make you turn and sit on his lap, facing the Throne Room. The Guards are exactly where they’re supposed to be, blind and deaf to what they can perfectly see and hear.

“Let me give you my blessing, now.” Aemond says spreading your legs on the throne, making you wince as you feel his hot fingertips on your wet aching folds. “You’re soaked.” he states proudly, smiling with victory next to your ear.

He draws lazy circles on your bundle, sliding down your dripping lips, slowly, too slowly. You buck your hips against his hand and his chuckle travels up and down inside you, rattling your bones like thunder.

“Please…” you cry when his fingers brush your swollen lips once more.

“I should summon back your husband. So he’d see how his pretty wife begs to be fucked by her Prince like a whore. Shall I?”

You grab his hand, pressing it to your core and he dips a finger inside, spilling a loud moan from you that makes him bite your ear as he feels your hot walls clenching around him.

“Fine. We shall let him hear it.”

He brings his soaked fingers to your mouth, sticking them inside to make you taste yourself, and then he takes your wrist, trapping it on your stomach with his hand. He easily slides his cock inside you, moaning along with you into the haunting silence of the hall. His thrusts are deep and quick, desire has consumed him too, for too long. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh are only barely muffled by your frantic gasps. Your eyes are closed in a painful bliss, his hot labored breath dampens your neck as he fills you to the hilt.

Your throat is sore with lack of air as you turn your head and he slams his mouth against yours, filling your mouth with his scorching tongue, biting your lip and sucking until it’s swollen. All of this while relentlessly rutting into you, giving you violent bursts of pleasure that make your moans high-pitched and loud, so loud that everyone outside these walls can hear them. Your husband will hear them, the guards are definitely doing so.

“Fucking Gods, you feel so good” He pants in your mouth “You really wanted this. Your cunt is squeezing my cock like a vice. That husband of yours never fucked you this good, did he?”

“Gods—” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut but he grabs your chin with his free hand, forcing you to turn your head. “The Gods cannot hear you now. They’re deaf to the pleas of sinners.” with his free hand he clutches your bundle and he starts to torture you, drawing fast circles, while his length keeps rutting harshly. “Lucky for you I’m more merciful than the Gods.”

The tension in your belly is unbearable, it makes you cry obscenely and the sound only pushes him to go harder, faster.

“Please—I—I can’t—Gods—”

“You can’t what? Mh?” he nothing but growls, thrusting once more and then again. “This is your retribution.” He says baring his teeth “You failed your family for this. You lied and cheated. Now fucking—take—it” his last words punctuated with three deeper thrusts that make you whimper and roll your eyes back.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your peak, letting out a long moan matched with sloppy shakes of your body against his. But he doesn’t stop, chasing his own pleasure as you whimper and sob with overstimulation. His hand keeps moving on your apex, all sticky with your pleasure and you grip his arm, trying to stop him. “Please—I can’t take it anymore—please my Prince—"

“You can and you will.” He promises “Give me one more. Come on, little traitor, just one more.”

You’re not late in granting his wish, trembling all over him and curling your toes with spasms in your muscles.

He groans loudly beneath you, teeth clamping down your shoulder and he stills completely, coming inside you with a choked sound of relief vibrating from his throat.

You whimper softly, feeling him pulsing inside you, but he grabs your waist and forces you to stand up. You waver on your weak feet, his hand is around your arm but only to firmly push you away from him. Falling on the ground, you look up to see him fixing his breeches, hair all disheveled and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Guards.” He says hoarsely, catching his breath, and two white cloaks stand at attention, their faces blank, pretending to be oblivious to what they have just witnessed. “Take her to my chambers and have the maid give her moon tea.”

Then he looks down at you, his face is wild and yet viciously focused. “We’re going to find a way to send your husband back to Starpike.” He says grazing your lips with his long fingers. “You’re not leaving my chambers anytime soon. In the time being,” his hand grips your mouth harshly, his voice eerily calm “You will write to Oldtown in your own hand, and ask my uncle to send me the head of Samantha Tarly.”

You widen your eyes with terror and he smiles, sweet and poisonous. “And remember, little snake. If I find you near the rookery at odd hours again, I will cut your throat in your sleep. Such a waste it would be. I’d rather have you choking on my cock than your own blood.”

He leaves without another word and you’re left on the ground. You can’t beg mercy to the Gods now, you will have to beg for his and his alone.

thank you so much for reading!! 💕

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