#jjk werewolf

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[noroi1000]

Hello! Can I request something like the day you became his mate (werewolf au) but this time with gojo? I really enjoyed the geto fic!! You're really an amazing writer you got me into jjk again so thank you for that. I hope you have a wonderful day! You can delete this if you aren't taking request with the honored one event (which I really love)

I want to have a Mate

Author: I am very glad that you like my works. I appreciate it very much. And I love you all Anon-chan. I don't accept requests for the event, but I did it as a normal request outside of the event. You wrote to me just when my requests were open, so there was no problem. This is pretty short because I still have a lot to write for you. But I tried to make it good

Werewolf Gojo x reader

Warnings: Short NSFW

Words: 1,4k

Summary: Gojo wanted a mate. And I really wanted to feel what it was like. And suddenly you appeared, Shoko's friend. He couldn't miss the opportunity when he probably found a mate.

"I want to have a Mate."

"What?"

"You know... Moments when you have a mate are nice..."

"Satoru, are you suddenly talking about wanting a mate? What happened to you?"

"You want a mate too! Say it straight! Everyone wants a mate! I want one too!"

"You know it's not fun?" he asked with a smile. "Mate is the person you will be with for the rest of your life."

"I want mate..."

"I know... You said yourself that everyone wants a mate..." He leaned on the bench they were sitting on.

"How am I supposed to find a partner?" he asked.

His ears appeared on his head, as did his tail under his hoodie.

Something he liked to do because it looked cool.

His ears drooped slightly as he was slightly sad about it.

"You have to search. You can't be sure who it will be or when. You just have to walk among people. Your intuition will guide you."

"Do you think it'll be a woman or a man?" White Hair asked for no reason.

"Who?" He looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"My mate."

"Heh... Satoru, no one knows who your mate will be! You'll know when you meet her or him. Besides, does it matter?" He chuckled lightly.

"Only a female mate will give me puppies in the future, right?"

His dark-haired friend widened his eyes.

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend." He pointed at him.

"Hah?'

"The Satoru I know never talked about having kids!"

"Isn't it obvious that I'd like to have a Mate and then maybe puppies?!"

"My friend is coming. So I'm leaving soon. I don't have time to spend all day here." He stood up, rubbing his temple.

"T-Wait!" shouted Gojo, getting up.

Geto turned to look at him.

"When will I know that someone is destined for me as a mate?"

He smiled slightly.

His friend was probably old enough to think about it.

Every one of their species wants a mate.

And that comes at different points in time.

The fact that his friend talked about mate now only means that he really wanted to.

"The first time you met." He said. "I met my mate in a store. And then I had to work to prevent her from getting married."

"At least you have a mate..." he suddenly leaned over his friend's shoulder and looked at the woman who was walking towards them. The dark haired man smiled. "Who is it?"

"Suguru." The girl called as she approached them.

"Hello." He said with a smile.

"Shoko told me to go with you, so let's go." You pointed to the road behind you.

"Where are you going?" asked the White Haired.

"Oh, Satoru, that is (y/n), we met when Shoko invited us to her birthday party. She is a friend of Shoko. (y/n), this is Satoru."

"Hello." You smiled slightly at him, looking at the ears on his head, which turned more forward as you spoke to him.

"We're going to Shoko. She probably wants to beat me again for something. We'll meet after that."

White Hair's ears couldn't stop hearing your voice.

His eyes couldn't stay away from you. He felt his heart beating faster.

His tail involuntarily began to fluff and waved slightly from side to side.

He felt something pulling him towards you.

And his friend's words echoed in his ears. Mate can be recognized so suddenly. When least expected...

Did he just...

Did he just meet someone who is supposed to be his mate?

"We can talk?" he asked, turning his head to the side.

Suguru nodded his head, also telling you to wait a while.

Gojo remembered you.

At Shoko's birthday. You were pretty cool. But he didn't talk to you much.

And now... Are you his mate?

Standing behind a tree, Geto looked at his friend's strange behavior.

"Satoru, what's going on?" he asked, watching its tail.

"You said mate can be found anytime..." he said more quietly, and held his tail in his hand as he still couldn't stop waving it.

The black haired man froze for a moment.

"Wait... Did you just...?!" he took a step back.

Gojo turned his head to the side, a tiny blush on his cheek.

"Did you just see your mate in (y/n)?!"

The white haired man crossed his arms over his chest.

"Shoko will kill you!"

"I was at her birthday, I already met her... So maybe..."

"But-" he muttered, not knowing what to say.

"You also met your mate suddenly." He groaned, and suddenly came out from behind the tree. Going your way.

"Satoru." he called.

He turned around for a moment.

"You can't just walk up to her and say she's your mate!"

"Why not?"

"Because she's not a werewolf, she's a human."

"You also have a human mate."

"It's the same as with a normal relationship. You have to get to know her and make her feel something for you. You can't just walk up and do what you want!"

"Tch... Fine..." he groaned, looking offended and sad.

"Do not be sad. I know she'll like you. As long as you're nice to her. And you won't be talking about mate and puppies right away."

"Do you really think so?!" He said suddenly pleased.

"Invite her on a date, meet her. But don't you dare earn her anything. Shoko will kill you and me for this."

"If Suguru found out... Ah... He'd kill me..." He moaned before connecting your lips with his.

As he pushed his hips into yours. Feeling you tremble under him.

Surely you were with him faster than mate Suguru with him.

This was what he could be proud of.

Because after only five dates alone, and about three times together, you became a couple.

Until finally he told you that you are his mate. Because he sensed it from the very first meeting.

He kept putting his face against your neck as you cuddled, and when he finally explained to you why he was doing it, you made a difficult decision.

He loved you sincerely.

You fell in love with him too.

The fact that he's a werewolf made him fall in love with you. You were attracting him as his destined mate.

That's why you were in a difficult position.

Once you agree to be his mate and not just his girlfriend, you'll be with him for the rest of your life.

He was already jealous and acted like a brat most of the time, not letting you go where he couldn't and knew there might be another guy.

You don't mind him and you love him.

But being his mate will mean he won't see the world outside of you. That he will only care about you. He will look after you.

Especially when you heard from Suguru that you have to be careful because Satoru is neither an omega nor a beta werewolf. Satoru, like Suguru, is an alpha.

And alphas are always on guard and sometimes overprotective of their omega partner.

In your case, it was you.

Suguru told you to think about it. Because if you do, you will be "bound to Satoru for the rest of your life and nothing will ever separate you."

You had a difficult choice.

To listen to your friend who wanted to take care of you, or to listen to your heart telling you that you love Satoru and are able to live with him for the rest of your life as his mate.

You chose what you wanted.

That's why you were lying under a tall, handsome, white-haired werewolf who spread your legs possessively to show the dominance of the alpha male over the omega.

You won't be able to fully understand this Alpha-Omega just yet. But when you spend the rest of your life with him, you'll learn even more.

You moaned loudly as he drove his hips into yours, holding your bodies in that position.

"He told you to make a choice... Huh..." he laughed, licking your neck before his sharp teeth came out and grated against your skin. "And you chose what you wanted, didn't you?"

You shivered as he pressed harder into you.

"I could have chosen... Between keeping you at a distance so I had time to think... Ngh... Or going to you right away..."

"And a good girl chose to be my mate~." He smiled at you with a toothy grin. "Little omega mate for big, strong alpha..."

All you heard was his chuckle in your ears and your heart beating.

"You chose very well." He laughed in a low voice, and looked at your neck, licking his lips. "I wanted my mate. And now I have. And I will have forever."

And suddenly he dived in to grab your skin on the side of your neck in his teeth to bite and leave marks.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #jujustu kaisen #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo smut #werewolf au #werewolf gojo

[squishycheekanon]

Limerence Kenjaku x reader drabble

Warnings: SMUT. Kenjaku being a softie.

Okay but we have to talk about Kenjaku being soft in Limerence. He is so fucking dangerous, a literal killer and yet when it comes to you he’s the softest teddy bear there is.

Rather than growling to threaten people, he’s growling in annoyance when you run your soft finger tips along his ticklish skin, little giggles coming from you as you watch him twitch. His eyes hold an amusement as he watches you, you have no idea how much he cherishes these moments with you. Finally feeling of value, finally feeling loved.

But then he’s also soft in an agressive way. “Kenny baby tell me what happened.” You plead wanting to know what’s made him have that crazed look in his eye as he hooks two of his large fingers in your damp underwear and pulls them down passed your hips and off your legs.

“Princess,” he sighs deeply with his eyes closed, “I’ve had a rough couple days,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice soft for you, though his mind is swirling with a recent memory, deep and dark. “Just let me eat your cunt and we’ll discuss everything after, okay?”

Kenjaku doesn’t wait for you to agree, doesn’t need to, not when he sees the need sparkling in your eyes, not when he sees your pussy all glistening and clenching around nothing. He dives in, his tongue, long, sinful and determined.

Long purposeful strokes before sucking your throbbing bundle of nerve into his hot mouth sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your back arching with a high pitched keen slipping form your lips. The sensation was exhilarating, the slickness of his tongue gliding against your soaked folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

He loved you like this, loved to have you at his mercy. You were so precious, and when you let out those broken cries begging for more it makes this killer Alpha become so weak for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger and you have no god damn clue.

#limerence #squishycheekanon #asks are appreciated #squishysneekpeaks #jjk x y/n #jjk series #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen kenjaku #jjk kenjaku #kenjaku #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x you #kenjaku smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu smut #werewolf x you #werewolf x reader #werewolf smut #jujutsu kenjaku #squishycheekanonanswer #squishtalks

[nyxronomicon]

Werewolf!Toji x fem!reader (vagina & tits mentioned) bc I am not sane about this….. (you can thank @suget )

cw: heat cycles, knotting, overstim, blood/biting reference (he bonded you earlier via biting your neck), fingering, reader is full of cum, exhausted reader (uhh they were fuckin all night), mild possessiveness, titplay/tit licking, breeding, he’s a werewolf (claws, fur, ears mention), size as always lol, he presses your tummy one time (so you can feel how full of cum you are……..)

pet names: good girl, baby, mate

don’t look at me this is so self-indulgent lol… but also if there are any other werewolf Toji fans out there and you want more…….. 👀

-

Toji grunted, his knot swelling inside you as you felt his cum paint your insides. You lost count of how many times you'd felt this sensation tonight. You were both drenched in sweat, your body overstimulated from Toji's heat. He was panting, his cock locked inside you as you shuddered around him.

You straddled his thick thighs, the warmth of his fur now welcome as exhaustion sank in. You scratched behind his ears as his nose pressed against your neck, lapping at the traces of blood from where he bit you earlier. He goaded you into letting him bond you like this in the heat of the moment, but even with your thoughts more clear, you didn't mind. It felt good to be his.

As he affectionately licked you, aftershocks of overstimulation made you whimper. He could feel your pussy tighten around him, his ears twitching as you clawed your fingers into his fur, holding him close. He let out a low, possessive growl. You felt so good. God, you felt so good.

His hands rested on your hips, one trailing to your lower abdomen. He pressed lightly. The pressure from his big cock and his cum made your pussy flutter around him again, making you moan. He chuckled, his thick thumb slipped between your folds as he rubbed your clit.

"Toji..." your exhaustion was apparent in the way you slurred his name. He didn't listen, his tongue trailing down to your breasts. "Sleepy..." you mumbled, his ears twitching again as you scratched his head.

"Wanna make you cum..." his tongue pressed against your nipple, savoring the bud in his mouth.

"Again?" Your voice was a whisper, your exhaustion making it impossible to control the pleasure already washing through you. Heat bubbled in your core as he continued his ministrations, the pressure of his thick knot holding you in place as your cunt pulsed around him. He could feel how close you were.

"Just one more," another low growl seeped out of his throat. "Good for the pups." His free hand clawed into your hip, the scent of his insatiable heat going to your head as your pussy clamped around him. He rubbed your clit faster, reveling in the hoarse moans that slipped from your lips.

"Toji, gonna-"

"Shh, baby." He hushed you, swiping his tongue over your pebbled nipple again. "Let me hear those sweet moans..." You were on the edge, feeling how deep he still was as he continued. Your back arched, the exhaustion making you feel even more fuzzy with pleasure. You obeyed his desire, moans filling the room as your body lit up, the last dregs of your energy pouring through you.

Your body coiled and tensed up in ecstasy, your sensitive, overstimulated body succumbing to the orgasm he pulled from you. It spread quickly from your core, reaching every inch of your tired bones. It was music to his ears, the way you fell apart again and again. He moaned with you, your sweet scent thick in the room as he felt his cock trying to shoot blanks into your pussy.

"Fuck." He mumbled, the sunrise slowly replacing the werewolf in heat with the man whose cum filled you to the brim. He nuzzled into your neck as you tangled your fingers into his hair, his knot one of the few things that didn't seem to change with the daybreak.

Your body draped on his, the knot still needing some time to go down. The exhaustion sunk in, your weak and overstimulated body falling asleep right on top of him.

"Mmh, good girl." Toji's voice was muffled, half-dreamed as he stroked your hair. His sweet mate had a long night, after all.

#I write Toji fushiguro and all my freaky kinks come out #when the cw is almost as long as the fic…… #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #i really wasn’t going to write this but i have been thinking about v’s werewolf Toji fic nonstop since i read it #so have a bonus monsterfucktober werewolf

[ballimeracy]

Moonlight Love Pt. 1

A Werewolf! Toji x Reader fic!

2.6k words Content Warning: Breeding, use of derogatory language (slut is used once), use of the terms 'mama', 'baby doll', and 'baby girl', knotting (smut in the second part) read part two here and part three here!

You always knew Toji was, well, difficult. From his not so good childhood, to his illegal dealings which you thankfully got him to stop in favor of a more respectable job. However, none of his issues ever stopped your heart from fluttering every time you laid eyes upon his face. Everything has been going extremely well in your relationship with your boyfriend. You had just gotten a promotion at work, and the two of you moved into a nice quaint two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city where the edges of the forest slowly crept up onto your property. Well…everything WAS going fine. You started to notice subtle differences in Tojis behavior and changes in his body. Firstly, Toji was a naked sleeper. Quite frankly, you didn’t care. Seeing his toned muscular body underneath the faint moonlight was heaven, but you started to notice more and more hair appearing on his arms, back, and legs. You just shrugged this off, thinking it was just some normal guy thing. You also noticed that his senses seemed to have been heightened, if that even was possible. You could make the littlest sound from across the home and in an instant, Toji would be by your side in an instant to see what you were doing. It was all strange, but then again, you didn’t mind or try to pry because if Toji seemed fine, it must be…right?

“...Toji?” You murmur, shifting underneath the covers of your shared bed. Your furnace of a boyfriend was no longer laying beside you, causing you to shiver from the coldness of the bedroom. Sitting up groggily in bed, you squint and rub at your face, looking around the dimly lit room. Straining your ears for any signs of your boyfriend, you purse your lips when you hear some shuffling from the bathroom. It wasn't just normal sounds, it was as if a feral animal had broken into the house and was currently wrecking the place. You let out a little sigh, climbing out of bed and shivering more at the coldness nipping at your skin, shuffling over to the bathroom. Gently, you knock on the shut bathroom door, looking at the light pouring out from the crack at the bottom. “Toji baby? Are you in there?” Your voice was thick with sleep, a yawn catching at the end of your sentence. At the sound of your voice, all noise coming from the bathroom stops abruptly. “Toji?” You repeat yourself when you get no response, knocking once more. Finally after what felt like ages, you hear the gruff voice of your man on the other side of the door. “Sorry baby doll. Had to take a leak. Go back to bed.” His voice sounded strained, which made you frown. Toji normally didn’t lie (at least to you), so you frown and place a gentle hand on the doorknob. “Toji, I'm coming in.”  You stated, turning the knob and pushing the door open, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights of the bathroom. The look of pure panic and shock on your boyfriend's face when you pushed the door open was alarming, but what was even more alarming was the set of fluffy black ears on the sides of his head and the large fluffy black tail near his tailbone. You both stand in silence, with your mouth agape as you take in Toji’s form. Along with the fluffy black ears and tail, he has grown a significant amount of hair on his arms, chest, and legs. His nails were longer, and you couldn’t help your eyes from traveling down. His cock was definitely bigger than normal, the appendage straining against the black briefs. “...I can explain mama..” Toji sounded insecure for once, his eyebrows knitted with worry as he took a step towards you. “Remember all that shit I did, yknow, before we moved in together?” Toji asked, a large hand gently placed on your shoulder. You stare dumbly up at him, giving a little nod. “Yeah…yeah I remember..” You manage to squeak out, eyes trained on the wolf ears which twitched at the attention. Tojis cheeks reddened, his tail wagging subconsciously from being so close to you. “Well, one of the missions…I didn't tell you but I got pretty damn hurt.” Toji let out a sigh. “I didn't want to freak you out mama, I should’ve told you. I don’t know what the hell that thing was, but ever since, I've uh…been turning into this.” Toji stared at you, eyes examining your face to gauge your reaction. You stared blankly up at him, processing the whole thing. “So…you're a werewolf?” He seemed hesitant to answer, giving a little bit of a nod and scratching the side of his neck. “I guess…yeah.” Toji actually looked worried, looking down where you continued to examine his new features. You stood on your tippy toes, a hand hesitantly coming out to pet one of the ears, which twitched and pivoted away. That made a smile spread across your face, a soft laugh emanating from you. “Aw…that’s pretty cute…you're like a puppy.” Toji turned red, a bit of a snarl appearing on his face while his ears flattened. “I ain't no dog, mama.” He loomed over you, which just made you giggle more as you saw his tail wag. “Sure, okay big guy. Cmon, let's go back to bed.” Toji just grumbled, allowing you to grab at his wrist and lead him back to bed.

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#toji fushiguro #werewolf! toji fushiguro #werewolf! toji #toji fushiguro fanfic #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji jjk #fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #ao3 writer #fanfic writer #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #writeblr #smut #jjk smut

[obitohno]

primeval | 01

satoru gojo x reader

synopsis ⤸

you have never believed in fairy-tales. besides, werewolves don’t actually exist… right?

chapters ⤸

៚ contents

next ᝰ

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, werewolf! gojo, human! reader, slow burn, soulmates, omegaverse, werewolves, mating bond, smut, masturbation, cunnilingus, blowjobs, anal, breeding, creampies, ruts, heats, action, angst, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood

word count ⤸

4.5k (semi-edited, lowercase intended)

a/n ⤸

this fic was originally posted onto my ao3 as a kakashi/sakura story, but it’s been well over a year since i last updated it, so now that i’m back into my writing, i wanted to change it to a reader fic. i’ve spent hours changing the names/pronouns, but i’m v tired, so if i’ve missed any, pls let me know. i used to read n write a lot of werewolf fics back in my wattpad days, so this story always makes me feel nostalgic ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

one:

it’s the middle of summer and the first scent you inhale upon entering shirakawa is one of freshly cut grass mixed in with the heat in the air. it’s almost stifling in the back of the car, cramped between two large suitcases, despite all four windows being rolled down. up front, your father hums along to a song on the radio, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he guides the vehicle towards your new home. 

you scowl down at your feet, clad in a pair of weather-appropriate sandals, toenails freshly painted just the night before.

the move—despite you understanding its importance—isn’t at all what you’d expected when your father had sat you down and spilled the news just six months before. you understand that your father’s job is important to him, and being promoted to head surgeon in one of the country’s top hospitals is an achievement that you can definitely appreciate. however, his success means changes. moving six hours away from your childhood hometown is the one that upsets you the most, you think. your friends, family, all left behind. not to mention that you now have to complete your final year of studies in a place that you’ve never even heard of.

but whilst your father is the one whom has remained optimistic throughout your moving journey, despite being shut in a small car for over six hours, your mother seems to share her daughter’s doubts about moving towns. you had listened their arguments during the weeks that followed your father’s promotion, but eventually, his wife had caved and eventually agreed to the move. but that doesn’t mean your mother is as enthusiastic about the move as her husband is, you conclude, glancing up to see her glaring out of the window. 

shirakawa is much smaller than you had expected. surrounded by woods that appear to expand for miles upon miles, the town is enclosed in the middle, almost hidden out of view. if it weren’t for the sat-nav, you are sure that the entrance would’ve been easily missed, the signpost having been barely visible through an overgrown bush. a few people curiously peer at the car as it rattles its way down the street, the rear end strained under the weight of the remainder of the luggage that your father had rammed into the boot earlier that morning. 

it’s a little after three pm when your little family car finally pulls into its new home in an unfamiliar driveway. 

the house itself looks larger than your previous home, you note as you scramble out of the vehicle when your father finally moves the suitcases out of your way. a waft of thick heat smacks you straight in the face and you grimace, stretching your aching legs. even clad in just a pair of denim shorts and a cropped tank top, the warmth clings to your skin in a way that makes you feel sticky and grimy at the same time. a trickle of sweat rolls down the curve of your cheek and you huff, swiping it away with the back of your hand. 

helping your parents lug their belongings into the house is easy enough. most of the furniture had been shipped over just a week ago, already placed into their respective rooms. your bedroom is located at the back of the house, the window facing out towards the large garden. it appears that your new home is situated at the edge of the town—just a small fence separating the garden from the onslaught of forestation that surrounds the building. it’s almost an eery sight, you think as you step out into the garden after hauling your suitcase into your room. 

the trees provide a form of shading as the garden is slightly cooler, much to your relief. leaning against the wall, you close your eyes, basking in the cooler air that shadows provide. you exhale, head tilting at the sound of the back door opening. your father throws a heavy arm over your shoulder, ignoring your soft grunt of surprise. 

‘what do you think?’ 

your eyes peel open to regard the happy grin on his face. the hope is evident in those glistening eyes of his, and you would have to be blind to not see his unconcealed excitement. it crushes all protests that sit on the tip of your tongue, and you swallow, head turning to look out to the bottom of the garden. gaze fixated to a young maple tree, you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. 

‘it’s nice,’ is your honest reply. you are yet to come around to his idea of moving homes, but you can appreciate the scenery. even under the shade of a large berry tree, the sun gleams down upon the garden, and the scent of grass is almost potent in the air. you deem yourself lucky to have missed out on the pollen allergy that seems to run in the family, your father’s head ducking as he suppresses a sneeze into the crook of his elbow. but despite his now reddened nose, his grin widens and you force one of your own. 

he squeezes your shoulder before removing his arm, seemingly suffering due to the heat. it’s late-afternoon, yet the sun is still high up in the sky. both you and your father are bewildered, and he voices his distaste. 

‘your mother and i are going for a walk into town,’ he wipes a trickle of sweat from his brow, ‘we need to get food—and we also need to invest in a couple of electronic fans. you want to come with?’ 

you reluctantly agree. you’re still exhausted from the car journey, and the heat definitely isn’t helping with your mood. however, you know that it’s way too warm to take a nap, and if even if you could, it’s already almost evening. deciding that you’d wait a few more hours to sleep, you think that it’s best to learn the map of the town for yourself, and you explain this to your father, who agrees. 

‘there’s still a couple of months until you start class,’ he reminds you. you hide your scowl, kicking at a raised mound in the mud. ‘but it’s best you learn the neighbourhood in the meantime. maybe you can make some new friends before you start?’ 

‘maybe,’ you repeat, not bothering to voice your doubts. 

‘c’mon, we better make a move if we want to make it back before dark.’ your father straightens, already turning towards the back door. but just as he’s tugging it open, there’s a rustling that comes from the bottom of the garden that freezes you both.

you stare at the trees as if awaiting someone to pop out, heart thumping its way down your eardrums. there’s a sudden gust of wind that spikes through the warm air, blowing your hair back from your face, and you grimaces as it cools the thin sheet of sweat that has collected on the back of your neck. your father chuckles, breaking the silence, ‘it’s probably just an animal. we do live near the woods.’ 

he enters the house, but you remain rooted to your spot by the wall. you can’t put your finger on it, but something tells you that your father is wrong, eyes straining as you peer into the threads of birch trees that spread out far past where you can see. the wind passes and you’re enveloped in silence, dazed as you stare out into the thickened tree-line. the longer that you stand there, the more you feel urged to close the gap between yourself and the fencing, but just as you take a step forward, the spell is broken by the sound of your mother calling your name. 

blinking, you frown down at your feet. sighing, you run a hand through your sweat-stained hair before making your way back inside the house, kicking the door shut behind you and meeting your mother in the kitchen. ‘i’m just going to get changed and then i’ll be ready,’ she tells you. following her up the stairs, you state that you’ll do the same, deciding to shower once you return from the walk. 

you change into a dress this time, your skin immediately thankful for the lighter fabric, less suffocated as you shove your suitcase to the corner of your room. you’ll unpack tomorrow, you promise to yourself. you’re just expelling a spritz of deodorant when something moves in the garden, catching your attention, and you turn, just in time to see a shadow moving through the trees, barely visible among the trees. heart in your throat, you call for your father, who enters the room just as the shadow disappears from view, merging between the birch trees. 

‘what’s wrong?’ he frowns, following your finger as she points. ‘i told you, it’s probably just an animal.’ he ruffles your hair, but you aren’t paying enough attention to scold him for messing your hair. he places a hand on your shoulder, ‘listen. you’re tired, we all are. your mind is probably just playing tricks on you. there’s going to be all sorts of creatures hiding out there. i’ve heard there’s even wolves.’ 

you disagree. whatever that shadow was, you know that it wasn’t just a trick of the eye. something had been stood right there in the garden, just a few yards from your home. but you do doubt that it’s a wolf, something you have no qualms of arguing with your father about. 

‘it could be, you never know,’ he laughs, poking at your ribs before leading the way down the stairs. 

‘it wasn’t a wolf,’ you argue. ‘and if it was, why aren’t you more concerned? they could be dangerous.’

he laughs again, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. your mother raises an eyebrow at your bickering but doesn’t join in as she slings her purse over her shoulder, husband and daughter following her out of the house. your father loiters as his wife locks the door, before you begin the walk into town. ‘if there are wolves nearby, they’re probably domesticated to some degree. i doubt they’d do actual harm to people.’ 

you can’t help but gawk at your father, incredulous, ‘they’re wild animals—of course they’d harm people!’ 

his smile is unwavering, ‘i bet you a twenty you see a wolf by the end of the month and it won’t harm you.’ 

at this, your mother slaps his shoulder, ‘don’t say things like that!’ 

‘what? it could—’

‘i don’t want her frolicking with wolves,’ she glares. 

your father rubs at the sore spot on his shoulder, grumbling something about the women in the family being superstitious. your mother argues that being cautious about wild animals isn’t a superstition, and you trail behind your parents, barely listening to their bickering. the conversation continues all the way until you reach the middle of the town. by now, you’ve received a few too many curious glances than you are comfortable with, ensuring that you’re never more than half a step behind your parents as the three of you weave your way down the street. 

it’s when you’re exiting an electronics store, your father insisting on carrying the fans home rather than having them delivered—despite the cashier’s wasted protests—that you inhale the scent of freshly cut grass once more. this time, the scent is much thicker, and you fight back the urge to gag, barely forcing down a sneeze that threatens to escape. frowning, you interrupt your parents’ conversation to ask, ‘do you have any of dad’s anti-histamines?’

fishing into her purse as you walk, your mother’s brows furrow as she presses a tablet, along with a water bottle, into your outstretched hands. ‘you feeling alright?’ even your father is frowning, hoisting the bag up onto his shoulder. 

‘no’ you look at her pointedly, quickly swallowing down the tablet before dropping the water bottle into her purse. you sniff, eyes watering slightly, ‘can’t you smell that?’ 

‘smell what?’ your mother questions, but she’s not really paying attention, already walking into another building—a butcher’s, you notice. nose crinkling, you decide to wait outside, stomach already churning at the sight of the bloodied pig’s carcass hanging up in the front window. your parents enter the small shop, leaving you to lean against the wall as you wait. the urge to sneeze returns, stronger this time, just as the scent suddenly hits you full force. 

this time, you aren’t able to suppress the sneeze that tickles its way out of your nose, only just ducking your head in time to avoid contaminating a passing woman pushing a pram in front of her. sniffing loudly, you swipe the tears free from the corner of your eyes, groaning as your head tilts upwards. pinching the bridge of your nose to halt the threat of another sneeze, your efforts are wasted, and soon, you’re sneezing not once, but three times, one after the other. groaning, you press your thumb against the ache that’s forming between your brows. the heat seems to have increased by a tenfold, but there’s nothing you can do about it, exhaling with relief at the sight of your mother rushing out of the shop, towards you. 

she shouts your name, and you blink through heavily lidded eyes, watching as she scrambles to rip a packet of tissues from her handbag, shoving one under your nose. ‘w-what are you-?’

‘you’re bleeding!’ she frets, leaning closer to assess your nose. ‘what did you do?’

‘i just sneezed,’ you bite out at the accusation, taking over your mother’s ministrations, all but shoving the tissue up your nostrils. ‘i think it’s the temperature,’ your voice sounds nasally, even to your own ears, and you don’t miss the wince that flits across your father’s face as he inspects your face.

‘we should go home,’ he comments, ‘you don’t look so well.’

wiping at your nose, you ask that he checks that your face is now clean of any blood. ‘i feel fine. it’s just the warmth.’ discarding the soiled tissues into a nearby bin, you massage an index finger to your temple, the ache suddenly searing, white hot pain flashing behind your eyelids. looking up, your gaze meets with a pair of light blue eyes that bore right through yours. however, before you can think about how damn pretty they are, the scent of freshly cut grass invades your nostrils once more, so strong that you can’t help but  whimper, sweat gathering upon your brow. the same uneasy feeling that you had felt in the garden has returned and your vision swims. someone calls out your name, but before you can look, your sight is blackened to nothing.

๑

he hadn’t expected a female human to enter his territory. much less two of them. 

the male, he’d been aware of. geto had mentioned something about a transfer at the hospital a few weeks ago, the best shirakawa can get. suguru may have told him about the male’s familial situation, but if gojo is to be completely honest, he hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation. 

it’s not as if humans don’t already reside in the town—most that live there are descendants of the founding families of shirakawa. and whilst the wilds are allowed to walk the streets as if they were their own, it is the woods where they thrive. for centuries, those whom want to live docile lives such as the humans do, are permitted to do so, in exchange for the protection provided by the wilds who have millenniums of strength built in their very bones. however, it is no secret that majority of the wilds share the opinion that humans are the weaker species, gojo included. because of this, most of their population remain on the pack territory, situated just a mere hundred miles from the townscape. 

not far enough apart, some still argue. 

but for gojo, it is close enough to keep an eye upon on the town’s human leaders; to ensure that there won’t be another revolt. there hasn’t been one since his tenth year on this earth and he’ll be damned if he lives to see another. the relationship between man and the wild is strenuous enough, but as ruler of the forests, gojo has made it no secret that he will not hesitate to eliminate those who dare to disrupt the peace his father fought many years to create. 

and so when word gets out that the human doctor has finally arrived in town, it is gojo’s responsibility to greet him. to his knowledge, the male is fully aware of the wilds that prowl in the darkness—something which gojo is to be glad of because he’s already met his fair share of frightened humans, weak-minded males and females who simply couldn’t imaginesuch a species to exist. he’s had to eradicate a few of them too, for everyone knows that the outside world is better off not knowing of the creatures of the forests. being spared the duty of exposing his species to an outsider is relieving. 

it is indeed a hot day outside, much like both geto and nanami had complained earlier that morning. the heat clings to the skin of his human form in a way that makes his nose crinkle with disgust, upturned as he makes his way through the town. many of the wild greet him with a bow of the head, gojo’s wild basking in the small sign of respect. the humans do not entirely understand the loyalties of the hierarchy in their kingdom, but most are smart enough to veer out of his path as he comes to a halt across the road from shirakawa’s infamous butcher-shop. 

he stands with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, eyes sweeping across the street for the face he’s memorised from the file that’s now stuffed in the bottom drawer of his desk. his nose shifts through the different odours intermingling through the warm air, searching for one that he doesn’t recognise. for a few moments, he senses nothing. but then it hits him. 

it’s you that he scents first. 

all sweet, like pollen on a fresh spring day, easily standing out amongst the crowd of humans that bustle along the pathway. your  scent clouds him, the heat of the sun suddenly overbearing as he stares across the road. but there’s something wrong, he knows as soon as his heart-rate spikes, pulsing so loudly in his eardrums that he almost doesn’t hear you speak. 

‘can’t you smell that?’ 

his instincts practically purr at the sound of your voice, gently spoken with the tiniest hint of confusion, and gojo has to grip the lamppost beside him to keep himself from shedding his human skin, his jaw clenched so tightly that he wouldn’t be surprised if it snapped. and when he realises that you also sense him, he exhales, breath uncharacteristically uneven as he struggles to rein in the wild that itches to escape. 

he’s no fool. for thousands of years, pups are taught what to expect when one meets the mate that is chosen for them from the day they are born. it’s been engrained into their very history from the first findings of their species. the humans call them soulmates. 

human and wild pairings are not unheard of. but they are rare. gojo cannot even recall the last pairing recorded—long before his time, anyway. and whilst most wilds are taught that humans will have some form of reaction to being mated, their instincts have been bred out of them over thousands of years of evolution. 

you will never feel the bond as he does, or at least, that’s what has been assumed for hundreds of years. 

and when the first drop of blood spills from your pretty little nose, his throat burns as he suppresses the growl that almost escapes from the centre of his chest. his instincts scream at him to cross the road, but gojo likes to think that he has more self control than that, fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles whiten, and his pulse increases in pace when your eyes meet his, wide and glossy. 

but as soon as you are rendered unconscious, all rationality is thrown out of the window as he’s across the street before he can stop himself, moving faster than humans can blink.

the older woman, your mother, he assumes, shrieks with surprise as he catches your limp body before you hit the ground. 

gojo stares down at you, trying his best to ignore the wild that continues to purr in contentedness with your skin pressed flush against his. several people have stopped to watch, most of which are of the wild, much to gojo’s chagrin. this will be the talk of the pack before he even reaches home, he’s sure. but that’s the least of his worries, as the older woman is now frantically attempting to shake you awake. 

gojo’s lips form a snarl before he can stop it, and he blinks, surprised by his own threat. there is a murmuring in the crowd, and he sighs, knowing the action has not gone unnoticed. the human woman stares at him, her surprise morphing into anger. 

‘i will take her,’ she spits, her hand curling around your limp hand. 

the human man calls her name, and when gojo looks up, he immediately recognises his face. 

the doctor. 

and it appears that he knows exactly who gojo is too. sparing him a nod in greeting, along with a smile that resembles more of a grimace, the doctor turns to his wife, ‘she’s in safe hands.’ 

even gojo is taken aback by this. 

your mother looks murderous as her head whips to glare at her husband, ‘we don’t even know—’

‘i own this town,’ gojo speaks for the first time. he winces at the grate in his voice, forcing down the wild that scratches at the surface. despite being unconscious, you stir at the sound of his voice and gojo’s gaze snaps back down towards you, adjusting your prone form in his arms. ‘if you’d allow me,’ he pauses to swallow, tearing his eyes from your face to your mother’s, ‘i’d like to return her to your home. it’s the least i can do.’ 

the human female is evidently confused, protest on the tip her tongue, but all colour in the male’s face drains as the weight of gojo’s words settle. he suddenly hoists his wife to her feet by her arm. ‘we should do as he says. he owns this town.’ 

your mother wrenches her arm from his grasp, not paying attention as gojo shifts his grip before he stands. he easily towers over both of your parents, but to his surprise, this doesn’t intimidate the smaller woman. she stands still, glaring up at him as the male whispers an excuse in her ear—something about not getting him fired before he’s even started his job. but it seems the heat is irritating her just as much as it is him, and so she reluctantly agrees to allow him to carry her daughter home. 

escaping the leering gazes, the walk is filled with a quietly uttered welcoming. gojo tells the male to meet him the following monday morning for a formal meeting before he starts his work. ‘your care is as important to our kind as it is yours,’ he tells him, eyes glancing towards the female who is yet to calm her anger. 

halfway home, you stir in your sleep once more, face pressed to his chest. you’re so much smaller than him, scent enveloping him in a way that he’s sure he’ll never forget. gojo has to bite his bottom lip to muffle the low growl that rumbles its way down his throat, expanding across his chest. the sound, however, soothes you enough to make you still once more and only then does gojo exhales. however, his wild rumbles upon glancing at the expanse of your exposed neck and he breathes heavily through flared nostrils, grunting as he feels the familiar aching of his canines breaking past the barrier of his gums. by the time the party reaches your new home, gojo’s body is trembling, sweat heavily built upon his brow. 

he’s permitted to gently place you on your bed, hesitating just a few seconds too long before he has to swiftly leave the room in order to escape your mother’s overprotective stance. 

by the front door, the male human escorts him out of the house. gojo’s wild immediately expresses its discomfort, itching at the temptation of a bid for freedom. 

‘it’s an honour to finally meet you—’ the man begins to gush, but the sight of gojo advancing upon him forces his mouth shut, eyes wide. 

‘she’s mine.’ 

gojo seethes, wild just inches from the surface of his skin. his stomach churns and it takes all he has to swallow down the bile that threatens to escape the confides of his throat. he towers over your father, who shrinks back, remembering to bow his head and expose his neck. gojo’s wild purrs at the sign of submission. 

he forcibly inhales deeply, eyes closing. when they open, he’s not at all surprised to recognise the terror on the smaller male’s face. ‘i will have her,’ he promises, but he’s not entirely sure if it’s he or his wild who forms the words on the tip of his tongue. ‘i do not need your approval—it means nothing to me,’ he spits, smiling bitterly. ‘you have until monday to tell her of our kind. not a day later.’ the human male has no choice but to agree, frantically nodding, blinking up at him, seemingly disorientated. whether he even recognises the unspoken threat that loiters in the air—thickened by the human male's unconcealed fear—is a matter to be dealt with come monday morning. 

gojo leaves then, coated in a layer of sweat that heats him in such a way that it blows his pupils. the little control he has struggles to remain in place, only just lasting until he breaks into someone’s garden, by jumping the gate, and marching across the recently mown lawn. he barely makes it to the trees before his resolve uncoils, snapping its way down his arching spine as he hunches over, winded. he form morphs, familiar with the sound of breaking bones, the shredding of human skin that gives way to a thick coat of white fur, two legs becoming four, a whip-like tail standing proudly as he prowls deeper into the trees. 

this form is welcomed with a ripple of excitement as he allows the wild to explore, scenting the air. he doesn’t venture far, nose tracking the stench of sweetened pollen, just a few yards from where his clothes are strewn across the floor. his wild shivers, delight thrumming through his veins as his eyes latch onto the bedroom window of which he knows you sleep on the other side of the glass. he inhales your scent through his mouth, tastes it on his tongue, and swallows it down, allowing it to settle into the pit of his stomach.

mine. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡ #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #werewolf! gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you

[celestial-werewolf]

gege needs to write in Twilight Sparkle to defeat Sukuna

#the werewolf speaks? #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 255 #mlp #twilight sparkle #sukuna #she’ll wipe the floor with him TRUST

[voxofthevoid]

Crap. Tried to send you an ask but I think I either accidentally sent it or accidentally discarded it. Fucking butterfingers lol.

Anyway, this is werewolf anon and I wanted to check on you after that newest JJK leak lol. You doing OK? Also I think there's been a translation error??? I think Sukuna is the uncle???!!! I am suspecting there will be some fan meltdowns lol.

Yo! Welcome back 💙

Don't worry, nothing else came through!

This reply is a few days late—iirc, you sent this on the day of the leaks—so the confusion has been cleared up, but yeah, there was a mistranslation from the leaker initially. Sukuna is indeed the uncle—an image that has yet to stop being fucking hilarious. He'd a terrible uncle. Not that he'd be a better twin, seeing as he ate the last one. He'd be a terrible anything.

(I trash him with...not love but deep fascination, really.)

Anyway, I'm doing great! Still buzzing pleasantly from Chapter 257 and way more hyped about Yuuji's eight consecutive Black Flashes and his cute (and pretty damn effective, low output aside) "cut here" use of Shrine than the relationship reveal, honestly. The parts of sukuita that compel me—their violent desire to harm the other and capability to do so, plus all the psychological shit influencing these—remain unchanged, especially since Sukuna's known about his relation to Yuuji since some 40 chapters back. Plus, incest isn't a deterrent for me; I mean, I did recently post Yuuji fucking his mum 🤣

I'll keep popcorn ready for the fan meltdowns. It's not likely to reach me except second/thirdhand though. I doubt anyone who follows me or reads my JJK fic would be fazed by this.

Hope you've been well! Also, has your friend brought up the werewolf thing after the initial convo? Did the knot dildo ever materialize? Updates, anon, updates 👀

#werewolf anon #i love my anons #jjk spoliers

[inkieink]

Look at how preeeettyyy

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo saturo #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen satoru #oc art #oc artwork #werewolf

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.65)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.

Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,

W/c: 15.0k

A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.

The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.

Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.

God does she know it.

She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.

Red is better color.

She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.

But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.

She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.

Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.

She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.

She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.

“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”

Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.

Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.

A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.

Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.

She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.

Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.

She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.

Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.

She sighs. Alphas and their messes.

In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.

Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.

That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.

She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.

She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.

The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.

He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.

Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.

This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.

Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.

She looks at the flame, sparking.

“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.

Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.

She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.

This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.

And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.

Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)

She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”

“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.

“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”

~-~

(Now, Namjoon)

Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.

It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.

He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.

No.

Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.

Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.

He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.

He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.

Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.

The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.

There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.

"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.

It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.

This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.

If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.

Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.

Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-

Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.

They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.

Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.

He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:

Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).

It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.

"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.

"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.

He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.

Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.

"I need you to promise."

Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.

"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"

"Just promise."

"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.

"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."

"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.

"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."

Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.

“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.

“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.

Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.

Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.

“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”

It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.

“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."

Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.

It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.

Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.

Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.

He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.

Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,

Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.

You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.

Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers. 

He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.

Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)

You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes. 

But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.

You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.

Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.

To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.

He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path. 

Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.

An alpha. An alpha hunting.

You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.

He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.

His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.

“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.

“I mean it. Never.”

He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.

After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat. 

Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.

“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.

Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.

He's never going to hurt you. He promised.

He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.

You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.

But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.

“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces." 

"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"

"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."

"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"

Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."

You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.

"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."

"What the fuck-"

Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"

Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"

There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually. 

You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.

You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.

"Shit are you okay?"

"Pup?"

"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.

Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.

"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.

When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.

"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."

"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.

"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."

Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.

"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."

You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.

You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”

“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.

Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.

If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.

“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”

Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.

“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.

"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”

Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.

“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."

Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”

“Oh my god daisy-”

You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."

Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”

Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”

"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.

"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“

Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”

“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.

“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."

You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."

Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."

“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.

The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."

Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.

"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"

Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.

You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"

“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."

The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.

Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.

Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.

“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”

Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.

He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.

“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”

Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.

“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”

“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"

“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.

Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."

Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.

Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.

"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."

Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.

"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.

Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"

Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."

"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."

"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."

"You mean-"

"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."

"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"

“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”

You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."

"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."

Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.

Maybe if he had, things would go differently.

A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."

Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”

Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.

"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.

“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“

"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.

You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.

“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”

(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)

Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”

You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”

“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."

"You've never said-"

Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."

You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.

You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.

You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.

“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"

You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”

Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.

“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"

There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.

Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.

Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.

To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.

The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.

Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.

Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.

Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.

To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.

But another woman? Even one like that?

Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.

It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.

But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.

Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.

By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.

~-~

(18 hours later, Jimin)

Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.

Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.

He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.

Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.

Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.

Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.

At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.

But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.

When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.

The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.

He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.

A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.

It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.

And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.

To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.

Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.

Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).

“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.

"Pup told me everything."

Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.

Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.

"It's okay,"

"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"

That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.

For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.

But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.

Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).

In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.

Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.

It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.

Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."

"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"

Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.

(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).

It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.

It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.

How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.

They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.

Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.

“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”

Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."

It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.

“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”

“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.

Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.

Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"

"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).

“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”

Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."

“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.

"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”

“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”

Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.

“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.

"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”

She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.

“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”

Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.

It stays there.

~-~

The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:

There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.

Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.

There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.

The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.

“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.

Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.

But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.

Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.

They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.

Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.

The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;

Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.

Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.

Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.

Once they're gone, other promises get made:

“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”

“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”

“I can ask some of my contacts-“

“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”

“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”

“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”

In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.

"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.

"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.

(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)

You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.

They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.

It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.

“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.

Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"

"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-

"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).

“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.

"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.

There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.

The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."

You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.

“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.

He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.

“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.

Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.

“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.

“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”

“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”

You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”

But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.

What's more intimate? Sex or murder?

He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.

“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.

Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.

You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.

No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.

"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.

You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.

Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.

You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.

Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.

The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.

It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.

Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.

“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.

You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.

“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.

You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.

Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.

Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”

Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”

“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.

that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.

the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.

It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.

“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.

Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.

It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.

Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.

"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.

You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."

Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"

You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."

Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.

If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.

But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"

You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.

"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.

He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.

There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.

"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.

You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.

"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.

Probably.

"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)

“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”

"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.

You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.

Noodle stops his chomping.

The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.

You freeze where you stand.

The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.

And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.

Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.

It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.

Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.

You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.

Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.

Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.

The danger is all in your head.

Only it's not,

Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Notes:

There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.

in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.

i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.

on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?

this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.

when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.

it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.

Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3

In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.

although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!

i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.

i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.

i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?

i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.

oh~ shits about to go down~

Mini-Playlist

Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)

Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)

JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)

Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[noroi1000]

Hi! It's me ...again hahaha.

I hope you're ok, I'm really glad see your updates again.

I see you have open request and I want to try it. I'm in love with werewolf Suguru...what about a mating and heat cycle with his lovely mate? And jelousy scene because other werewolf it's just nice with Y/N, not in romantic way, just being nice.

Basically shameless smut. Hahaha I'm really sorry if it's uncomfortable for you, my apologies. But I'm in ovulation week so... I'm just hot v: and I love Suguru so much.

Really my apologies if it's make you uncomfortable.

Please stay healthy and have a lovely week!!good luck in school!!

I'm in heat

•°-Shameless smut-°• +18

Werewolf Geto in heat cycle x mate reader

NSFW: breeding, rut, pussy eating, possessive sex, knot fucking, marking

Words:3k

His body was sweaty when you touched him. And he just woke up. Was he too hot at night?

Maybe werewolves have different temperature needs?

After all, werewolves stand out even in appearance from other people.

For example, your partner and his best friend. And others too.

If he has any other temperature needs, why aren't you informed? You are his mate!

"Suguru? Are you too hot?" you asked, rubbing his bare back gently.

He was sweating.

"Hot..." he muttered as he sat on the bed with his back to you. "I'm going to take a cold shower."

"Are you okay?” you asked, placing your hand on his muscles. You ran your fingers over his skin, gently scratching his back because he liked it.

His low ponytail lay loose on his back.

He turned his head to the side to look at you.

You smiled slightly at him. Your hair in a mess as your soft thighs were clearly accentuated by the fact that the sleeping shorts he bought you were really short.

A camisole hugged your breasts and one strap fell off your shoulder.

He forgot he started the heat cycle today...

Why did he forget again...

Last time he lied to you that he was going to another city for a few days. And at the time he was in his apartment trying to survive his heat.

Since he's with you, his heat comes on so intensely. That's what happens when you have a partner.

You have been his mate for two months, but the first month you managed to avoid his several-day rut.

Last month, because he didn't want to hurt you, he went on a trip to wait it out.

And this month? He can't... He can't come up with an excuse to go anywhere.

In addition, your smell intensifies what is happening in his body.

Your neck looks so pretty and appetizing. Bite that spot and tag you again. Just like he did for the first time during sex. However, he didn't have a heat cycle back then. So he could control himself.

And now he knew it wouldn't work.

Your appearance was so striking to his eyes. His pupils dilated so much, swallowing the violet in his eyes.

My heart sped up. His body was so eager to pounce on you, and mark his mate again. To cover you with its scent. To mark yourself as his.

Your scent entered his nostrils, and he thought he was drooling.

Your scent so intense and sweet.

He failed to calculate everything correctly.

Because you also ovulated.

His body reacted to his partner's body.

That's why his heat kicked off very intensely because your heats were in sync.

Damn werewolf body...

His body lines up with your cycle only to impregnate you at your most fertile time.

And since your cycles were close in time, his body aligned itself with yours.

Your scent signaled it to him.

Because every werewolf in heat would like to have a sweet and fertile mate under him that he can breed so much.

That's why werewolves are so flexible about this sort of thing.

And since you are his mate, his body has become so used to you. Now his heat will always be when you ovulate.

A partner for life...

However, your rut synchronized very quickly.

And because he lives with you, and is beside you daily, he will no longer escape your cycles.

Although werewolf cycles run much more intensely than human ones.

Because if you were a werewolf too, and you were in heat, you'd be jumping on him to breed you by now. Especially if you felt he was in heat too.

The longer you've been with a werewolf as a human, the more you'll get used to the pheromones he gives off.

And as your body gets used to it, your body will respond.

You will be like his little partner.

You may not react as much to the smell, but it will be stronger for you than it is now.

His mind veered very quickly to think about how you'd be moaning when you asked him to come inside you.

„My Alpha... Please..."

"I want you now... Please... Breed me..."

He would love to hear his mate beg him for it.

If so, he'll probably jump on you in a few days anyway and fuck you into oblivion when your smell becomes unbearable to him.

As his hormones take possession of his body.

When all he has in mind is how soft your thighs look. Same with breasts.

He will only think about stroking that soft pussy and listening to you purr for him.

To put his cock in your tiny tight hole and stretch his shape inside you.

Because there is no werewolf who does not think about having sex with a partner during the heat as if the world was about to end.

He thought of it at first as something that's probably not pleasant, because you only think about sex and you only want sex.

But when he experiences it, he feels how pleasant it is. So very pleasant.

Even though he feels an irresistible urge to strip you now and fuck you until you're dripping with his scent. His body tells him to put his puppies inside you.

"Are you okay?" You asked him, hugging him lightly.

Your slightest touch made him feel like you were only touching his cock.

He was more sensitive. Your tiny touch was so pleasant to him.

It made him want more of that touch.

The lower your hands were, the more he felt pleasant shivers as your scent also reached his nose stronger.

You may not notice that right now his pheromones are attacking your body to show you that your alpha wants you now, but you clearly felt something between your legs. Your neck was a little irritating where he last bit you.

Your cute body, even if you're a human, next to him, which is a powerful alpha, you too can very easily start to act like a little omega.

Werewolves are not much different from humans.

Its pheromones act as an aphrodisiac for you.

A few more months or a year and you will be like his little omega when his pheromones get you.

"Sugu... Don't ignore me... Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." He replied with a small smile.

His hand reached for his erection that had formed in his sweatpants.

It was so hot... Outside and inside.

He wanted your warmth to soothe his warmth.

Do what his body wants.

Mark you and breed you.

"Really? You're sweating." You said.

"I'm just in heat." He laughed as if it was something to joke about.

The heat cycle has never been something to laugh at, especially between partners.

Because heat for partners is endless sex for almost several days.

"Heat?" you murmured. "Oh, rut yes?"

"Yep." he laughed.

He really wanted to laugh about it, because maybe you will laugh about it too?

"Are you... are you..." you pulled away from him blushing.

Everyone had biology in school.

Everyone knows that rut is the period when creatures reproduce.

You sat behind him with your knees bent on one side of your body.

You felt warmth between your legs and also on your cheeks.

You feel the sexy heat emanating from his. His scent is so erotic.

Well, you ovulated. Maybe that's why you found it sexy that he was sitting next to you shirtless...

But you felt something pulling you towards Him.

Is it because he's in heat as a werewolf?

"Do I what?" he asked with a smile. Roses on his cheeks.

Not because he was ashamed.

Only his blood flow is so fast that his skin is pink.

Blood flowing to his crotch.

The veins on his body are starting to become more visible.

"Do you want to... you know..." You muttered rubbing your hand over your thigh.

"Haha... I look like I don't want to?"

Suddenly, he turned completely sideways to you, and showed you the taut muscles of his torso, as well as his taut pants underneath which his hard erection stands, waiting for his partner's touch.

Your face was red when you saw it.

But you couldn't help the fact that the sight of him so lecherously made you feel wet between your legs.

"So I'm going to take a shower. I need to get some rest." He said as he stood up.

"Suguru." you called him.

Your finger between your teeth as you briefly wonder if this is a good idea.

He told you that werewolf heat is no small thing. Because it lasts almost up to one week, and it's an intense period, both for the body and for the emotions. Because it's thinking about your partner and about sex all the time. Taking care of your partner and sex. And then there are the periods of possessiveness. The alpha partner does everything to keep the omega partner with him. In your case, you are the omega partner and Suguru the alpha. And that means he'll be jealous of everything for a few days, he'll be so needy of touch, he'll drive any other "alpha" away from his mate, and will always be somewhere with you to take care of you. And every day he'll think about pinning you under him and fucking you.

What will your few days look like?

You've been his girlfriend for a long time, but you've been his "mate" for over two months.

Which means he just tagged you as his lifelong partner recently. Even though he already felt you as a potential mate he would love to have. But he preferred to wait for your permission so he could mark you as his.

Since you've agreed to be the alpha werewolf's mate, you must attend to his needs.

Besides, if his estrus affects you like that when you're ovulating, you can't ignore it.

He was looking at you, waiting for what you would say.

He was so hard to control himself not to throw himself at you now. You were so lovely.

So fertile~.

He could very easily keep you in bed and mean so much. Shove his cum inside you.

However, this will be your first time together when his heat reacts to his partner. This will be your first time with him so wild.

Even more than it was every time you had sex.

There's also a chance you'll say no and he'll spend a few days fucking his hand...

The heat cycle activates when the werewolf gets a mate.

There is always rut.

But the heat comes when you have a partner.

Once a month.

His heat is here because you are in heat.

So he's in heat, his heat, because he's feeling your body.

Theoretically, alphas don't have the same as omegas that get heat and wait for their partner.

Alphas have an estrus once a month, which is simply associated with a great desire for sex.

But when the alpha heat synchronizes with the heat omega, then it's like heat. That's why he is like this now.

Alphas go crazy when they feel their partner is fertile and willing.

Just as internally there is a war within him. Control yourself and also pounce on you.

His body wants to pounce on you, but his wits stop him because this would be your first time he's like this.

During estrus, alphas are more brutal, but not so much as to hurt their partner.

He's more like a hungry animal.

You let him once, and he'll be like this for a month.

When he knows your body can handle it.

And he knows your body will last forever.

"Come, if you want..." you said spreading your arms. By inviting him to you.

Your face was red as you looked to the side.

You still knew his dick was stuck in his pants so tight.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "Once you agree, there's no going back."

"I'm your mate... right?"

"Are you not afraid?" He asked smiling as he knelt in front of you on the bed.

"Why should I be afraid of you?"

"I'm unpredictable at a time like this. You don't know what I would love to do right now."

"My partner won't hurt me. After all, a partner never wants to do anything bad for a mate, right?"

His body suddenly towered over you, his fingers digging into the softness of your thighs.

His lips were immediately pressed against your throat.

He ripped your shorts off your legs, doing it with your panties. They landed in tatters on the floor.

As his fingers dug into your pussy without warning, stretching you.

A sweet scent reached his nose, and he felt his cock throbbing in his pants.

Keeping his fingers inside you in one place, he felt your soft, hot walls tighten around his fingers.

Moisture trickled down his palm as he pressed the palm of his hand against your clit.

Your body really reacts so sweetly to his estrus. And your rut is so beautiful. That nice smell.

He moved his mouth to the side of your neck and sank his teeth in.

He groaned at the sweet scent that enveloped his sense of smell.

He unconsciously moved his fingers inside you lightly, massaging your g-spot. Listening to your sweet moans as he didn't stop.

He felt like he could come just by listening to your noises.

His mind was clouded by his instincts, so he was surprised when more of your juices spilled onto his hand moments later. And your walls squeezed his fingers.

With a wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of you, feeling the one thigh he was holding shake.

He put his wet fingers to his lips and licked everything clean, savoring the taste of his mate.

He wanted more.

Without warning, he dived between your legs and began to lap up your folds aggressively.

Your legs jumped in susceptibility to the sudden attack.

"S-Suguru...!" You groaned as you grabbed his hair.

Causing a pleasant burning sensation in his head.

It was so good.

His hand reached for his cock, stroking it, keeping his hand under his pants.

His hips moved on their own, swaying his length in between his fingers.

You saw the very lascivious sight of his tongue leaving your pussy, with a thin line of sticky fluid connecting your sensitive body to his wet muscle.

His fingers tightened around its broad base.

His long fangs began to bite your thigh, savoring the softness of his mouth.

"I can't hold back anymore." He said in an intense voice.

The purple of his eyes was completely devoured by his dilated pupil.

You didn't want him to hold back.

Since you were his mate, you had to do everything for him to help him with his rut.

He's so crazy about how cute you are. How much you got his attention with your body and smell. Because your ovulation was showing him how willing and tasty you are.

Your short shorts digging into the fat of your soft thighs. Ah... That was all that made him go crazy right away.

He stood up, hastily lowering his pants.

If he took it off, it would take too long. He wanted to be in his tight mate right now. Feel yourself sucking it inside. Feel how nicely you take all of him, trying to contain every inch of him.

To watch later as his wick spreads inside you, ensuring not a drop of his cum comes out of you.

You saw a furious red tip that cried a lot of precum. Pulsating thick shaft. Certainly long and thick enough to destroy your pussy.

Especially since you know who that heavy dick belongs to.

As he quickly moved closer to you, he tore off your shirt with his hand. You felt him pull on the fabric and then suddenly your chest was exposed to him. Your nipples are stiff from everything he does to you.

With a sigh, he immediately placed his mouth on your tit, biting your nipple lightly with his sharper teeth.

His hips thrust blindly into yours and your wetness running down your skin very quickly led him to your willing hole, which greeted him with a very pleasant hug.

He didn't even have to enter you slowly because your walls offered no resistance whatsoever. Letting him find the bottom right away. His balls pressed tightly against you.

Its tip was releasing precum inside you to facilitate the breeding process, but that wasn't necessary at all because you were dripping.

His hips quickly settled into the rhythm of hitting you. His pubic bone was pressed against your clit, and his pubic hair gave an extra prickly and soft touching sensation as he thrust into you.

He was in a hurry, chasing to fill you up.

He didn't try to make you moan the loudest, he didn't change the rhythm. Because he just wanted to fill you up.

Every move he made made your body squirm. Waves of quivering pleasure ran down your spine.

His lips reached for yours, catching your tongue to kiss you deeply.

He caught all your moans that came out of your mouth like music.

As he felt your moans increase, he didn't slow down. You felt his knot slowly forming, a sign of his forming orgasm.

Your pussy was getting more and more stretched. But the pinching disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Particularly when his knot brushed against your g-spot, pressing it hard you clenched his entire cock. Feeling that way, his body squeezes your clit between your bodies.

Your head throbbed as he bit your neck, inhaling the ethereal scent.

Sucking your pussy as well as the feeling of you stretching around his knot made him shoot copious amounts of cum into you.

Your legs trembled around his hips as his dick extension ensured nothing would leak out of you.

But at some point he pulled out of you and your pussy spat out a wider chunk of his flesh with a loud sound.

But what is it supposed to be? Why isn't he soft?

Is that how his rut ​​works?

Why did you have to be in the heat?

"S-Sugu... How long is your rut...?" You asked quietly, breathing to calm yourself down.

He chuckled briefly with a heavy breath before thrusting into you again.

"Five days." He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

____

"Wow, Suguru, I know you can have rut or whatever now, but don't be so aggressive towards me. I'm not going to take your mate." Laughed the White-haired man with whom you were talking a moment ago.

Your alpha wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him.

His nose rested on your shoulder, inhaling your scent, mixed with his.

"I'm not taking your partner. Even though she smells pretty sweet. She's not an omega, is she? Is she human?" he asked with a smile. "(y/n), how long will he keep doing this?"

"A bit more. Sugu, do you want to go home?" You asked, stroking his head.

You moaned as he squeezed you tighter.

"Fine... Sorry (y/n), we'll talk when his rut ​​is over, okay?" Your friend waved to you.

"Bye." You waved at him. "Suguru what's up?"

"He's a werewolf too..." he said kissing your neck.

"But we are friends."

"He is the alpha. And you are my omega."

"I guess you're too used to be a werewolf." You laughed quietly. "I'm a human, not an omega werewolf."

Suddenly his tongue licked your ear.

"But you are my omega partner~. And as an alpha partner, I want my mate for me. That's why I will mark you."

#geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #geto smut #suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #werewolf au #werewolf smut #Werewolf Geto #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader

[squishycheekanon]

Limerence

Series masterlist

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader.

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: 18+, smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies, a/b/o dynamics.

Some warnings may be added to the beginning of individual chapters. 

Taglist

Jujutsu Incorporated

Moodboards

Teaser one

Teaser two

Kenjaku drabble

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

#squishycheekanon #squishysneekpeaks #jjk itadori #jjk sukuna #jjk nanami #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanart #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #werewolf #alpha x omega #werewolf x reader #werewolf!Sukuna #Werewolf!Geto #werewolf!gojo #werewolf!Itadori #werewolf!kenjaku #kenjaku #kenjaku x reader

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

19. Vampires/ Bloodsucking/ Werewolves

Inspired by this fanfiction by @tiressian , give it some love

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42053220/chapters/105586104

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #shoko ieiri #satosho #fanart #kinktober #vampire #blood sucking #werewolf #IPMSSA_SatoSho!Fanart

[ballimeracy]

hello! take some werewolf! toji for a late halloween post!

werewolf toji!, who starts experiencing lycanthropy symptoms after a pretty intense mission

werewolf toji!, who hates worrying you with his monthly changes so he keeps quiet and secluded

werewolf toji!, who gets incredibly hairy and irritable, with an insatiable appetite for red meat

werewolf toji!, who gets embarrassed when big fluffy ears and a tail appear on him, to which you absolutely *love*. 

werewolf toji!, who begrudgingly lets himself lay in your lap while you pet his head, face red when he feels his tail start thumping against the couch. 

werewolf toji!, who sleeps even *hotter* than before. Man is practically like the surface of the sun

werewolf toji!, whose sex drive is through the roof more than usual. He practically has his nose shoved into your shoulder and inhaling your scent and grabbing onto the flesh of your hips to grind your ass into his cock

werewolf toji!, who wakes you up in the middle of the night dry humping against your lower back, panting heavily as his large clawed hands grip your thighs

werewolf toji!, who begs you to let him put it in despite how sleepy both of you are

werewolf toji!, who nearly cries with relief when you nod, who grabs your hips and forces you onto your stomach and lifts your hips up high, tail wagging excitedly which made you giggle

werewolf toji!, who is quick to pull off your shorts and panties, a deep groan coming from his chest as he kicks off his boxers, his swollen cock hard and leaking

werewolf toji!, who wastes no time quickly rutting into your tight wet heat, front pressed firmly into your back as he holds you down with his body

werewolf toji!, who bites and nips at your shoulders and back while he grabs your hips so hard that you're afraid it will bruise

werewolf toji!, who murmurs promises in your ear of knocking you up, making your belly swollen with his babies and having your tits leak 

werewolf toji!, who grinds his pelvis into the flesh of your ass, thrusts getting sloppy as he reaches his peak with a whimper

werewolf toji!, who cums so much you can feel it in your stomach, his cock twitching deep inside your warmth as he continues to hump and grind against you 

werewolf toji!, who pulls out of you after a while of cockwarming, groans at the sight of his cum spilling out of your cunt

werewolf toji!, who uses his thumb to push his seed back inside, effectively plugging your hole. 

werewolf toji!, whose dick is already twitching to life, wanting to fill the promise of making you his baby mama.

I do not condone my work being used for ai, to be reposted, or to be used without my permission!

#toji fushiguro #toji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #werewolf! toji #werewolf! toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro fanfic #toji fushiguro smut #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #writerscommunity #fanfic writer #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #my work

[obitohno]

primeval

satoru gojo x reader

synopsis ⤸

you have never believed in fairy-tales. besides, werewolves don’t actually exist… right?

chapters ⤸

one | 4.5k

two | 6.1k

three | 5.9k

four | 3.3k

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, werewolf! gojo, human! reader, slow burn, soulmates, omegaverse, werewolves, mating bond, smut, masturbation, cunnilingus, blowjobs, anal, breeding, creampies, ruts, heats, action, angst, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood

reblogs are appreciated ~

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡ #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #werewolf! gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you

[bzoumoon]

nocturnal creatures, chapter 8 🌙

the cannibal king makes his appearance and everything begins to fall apart. megumi and mai steal a car.

🔗: ao3

#jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jjk fic #skfs #sukufushi #werewolf au #jjk #megumi x sukuna #sukuna x megumi