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jingabitch · 4 years

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ch.2

Summary: When you were ten, Taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. Now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

Pairing: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

Word count: 10.7k

A/N: Did this girl bang out 3000-odd words in one night so that she could post it before Chinese New Year so that she could reach 888 followers by CNY? Yes. Yes she did. I hope you guys enjoy this, and please share and follow for more if you liked it!!

Also, I don’t do tag lists, so please don’t ask. This story is cross-posted on ao3 (link to account on my blog) so you can subscribe there.

Series index

You’d learned years ago what Taehyung was like in the weeks leading up to his heat. Overly moody, grumpy, and most of all, hungry. It was probably his body trying to load up on calories before five or so days where there was intense physical exertion without much opportunity to eat.

It had never been an awkward thing for you – after all, werewolf heat was a basic part of their biology, so no one made a big deal out of it. And since they never said anything about your own cycle, you afforded them the same courtesy, just taking it in your stride and doing your best to make it easier on them.

So it wasn’t surprising to you when one day in the middle of winter, Taehyung wolfed down (ha) his breakfast at twice his usual speed and then started looking furtively over at your plate. Sighing, you just pushed it towards him and went to make yourself something else. You made a mental note to make more food tomorrow, and braced yourself for the coming few weeks, where he would be alternately clingy and grumpy – or, interestingly enough, both at the same time.

His heats were never a big deal for you – if he had a heat partner, you mostly stayed out of his way, and stayed with the other boys instead. They were always more than happy to spend a whole week spoiling you and getting cute cuddles. If he didn’t, you usually ended up being the one to take care of him since the others had their own schedules and were out of the house most days. It wasn’t anything much – you just checked in on him once in a while, made sure he was eating and drinking water, and maybe wiped him down if he was too sweaty.

You didn’t expect that anything would change this year, although obviously you’d missed his last two heats, which he’d spent in the military facility. In preparation for his heat, you went to the supermarket and stocked up on food that would be easy for him to eat, like fruit and granola bars, making sure to pick his favourite brand which was, obviously, an extremely fancy and overpriced one.

While you continued your preparations for his heat, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil, Taehyung was an absolute mess. Ever since his preheat started, he’d been racking his brains for a solution to the problem that wouldn’t arouse your suspicion, and coming up empty. There was no way he could get rid of you for a week without you figuring out something was up, since you knew he didn’t have a heat partner and it had never been a thing before for you to leave.

Everything was, of course, made more complicated by the fact that the closer he got to his heat, the more he didn’t want you to leave. He would wake up in the middle of the night wrapped around you, his face tucked into your neck and his hands gripping your waist possessively, and he would be burning up, panting for you.

You, of course, didn’t suspect a thing, and it truly was a testament to how comfortable you were with him that you weren’t noticing anything amiss. It really was remarkable how much could go over your head if you weren’t looking for it. If nothing else, the fact that he’d taken good enough care of you over the years that you were so complacent and comfortable around him was slight comfort. He knew your time at the shelter hadn’t been the best, and he was pleased that he’d managed to earn your trust, even if it did increase his guilt at taking advantage of it now.

His last hope, that he was clinging on to by a thread, was that since his heat was intended for the purpose of breeding, maybe he wouldn’t fixate on you. After all, you were human – you should be incompatible with him in that way. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had to go on.

Although really, anyone could have told him that that was a stupid plan. But since he’d refused to let anyone know what was going on, there was no one around to shake some sense into him.

His heat hit while he was at the studio. It had been a bad idea to go to work today, he knew it when he took three bites of the giant breakfast you’d cooked and turned his nose up at the rest of it, but they were starting to record their new song and he’d wanted to be there.

Unfortunately, his enthusiasm meant that when his heat hit in the afternoon, he was in the studio instead of comfortably waiting at home. The bright lights and sheer number of scents overwhelmed his senses, and he ended up curled in a corner of the room, desperately closing his eyes and trying to shut the world out, his head between his knees. His ears flicked repeatedly, before laying flat against his head in distress.

“Shit… we need to get him home,” Yoongi said, watching him groan pitifully, but when they tried to coax him to move, he refused, completely non-functional by this point and so uncomfortable that he couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Jimin tried to sit with him, hoping that his familiar scent would block out some of the harsher scents in the room, like the floor cleaner, but Taehyung just groaned and turned his face away, burying it in his shoulder. The rest of them looked on worriedly – his heat symptoms had never been this bad before.

Left without any other option, Namjoon called you, hoping that the familiar scent of home would soothe Taehyung enough to stop being a moaning mess on the floor of their studio long enough to go home and ride out the heat.

You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Hearing that Taehyung was in trouble spurred you to all but fly out of your house, speeding all the way to the studio in his extra car that he never let you drive. It was lucky that you’d learned how to drive in Geochang, you thought as you zipped into the parking lot at the BigHit building and raced up to the studio.

You burst into the room dramatically, panting from your exertion, and immediately zeroed in on Taehyung, who seemed to be feeling a little better than what you’d been led to believe, if the way he’d sat up and was looking at you was any indicator. His ears perked up too, indicating that he was no longer as distressed as he’d been just a minute ago.

“Hey,” you said softly as you approached slowly, not wanting to freak him out since his animal instincts were closer to the surface than usual. And, if you were being honest, the way his gaze fixated on you was almost predatory, triggering your flight instincts. Reassuring yourself that Taehyung would never hurt you, you continued to inch closer to him.

“How you doing, Tae-oppa?” you asked softly, getting on your knees next to him and pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead. He closed his eyes and shuddered at the touch, and you wondered at his over-the-top reaction. Just how deep was he into his heat?

You made to pull your hand back, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort than necessary, but his hand shot up and grabbed your wrist. “Y/n…” he shuddered as he breathed your name. “You came,” he continued, looking up at you far more intensely than you thought the situation warranted, his long fingers stroking your wrist gently.

Hesitantly, you replied, “Uhh, yeah, Namjoon-oppa called me to come get you. Come on, let’s get you home,” you urged, trying to pull your hand away, but he tightened his grip around your wrist and made that impossible. You raised your brow at him, wondering why he insisted on staying in that corner instead of going home where he had pajamas, nice soft sheets on his bed, and could draw the curtains so the light didn’t hurt his eyes, but he stood up quite easily without letting go of you and started tugging you out of the room.

“Uh, okay then,” you mumbled, utterly confused now. When Namjoon had called you, he’d been almost panicked, describing what bad shape Taehyung was in and getting you all worried, but the man in front of you seemed completely fine. A little off-kilter, maybe, but that was only to be expected since he was going through heat, after all.

“Bye, oppas!” you said, waving at them as Taehyung pulled on your wrist, leading you down the hall and towards the elevator.

“Well, you look pretty good for someone in heat,” you told him as you waited for it to arrive, looking him up and down assessingly. “When Namjoon-oppa called me he was so panicked, and I freaked out too, but he must have been exaggerating,” you chattered on to fill the silence. You understood that Taehyung wasn’t really in the mood to make conversation right now, but somehow his intense gaze made the quiet feel a little uncomfortable.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and your attention was momentarily taken away from Taehyung, so you didn’t see the way he shuddered. It wasn’t that he was feeling better, it was that his heat had found a target, and all that shaky, general horniness and misery had turned into laser focus on you. You walked into the elevator with that little bounce in your step, and he followed after you, almost stalking you with how predatory his gait and gaze were.

You stopped and turned around in the middle of the lift, your eyes lifting habitually to the display on top of the doors, but Taehyung didn’t stop walking, bumping against you and causing you to drop your gaze to him. You gasped at the hungry expression on his face, but it didn’t deter him from backing you up against the wall. You squeaked in surprise as your back hit the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs, and in the second that it took you to get your bearings back, he’d moved his hands from the wall on either side of your shoulders to your waist, pulling you tightly to him as he buried his nose in your neck.

You just about jumped out of your skin when you felt his erection pressing against you, and your mind immediately leapt to work rationalizing it away. He was in heat, it was normal for him to have a boner, and it definitely had nothing to do with you, you tried to convince yourself. He was scenting you because you smelled familiar, like home, and it was comforting for him.

Trying not to squirm away in discomfort so you could help him, you stroked his hair in what you thought was a soothing gesture. “Tae-oppa, you okay?” you asked softly.

He groaned in response. “You smell so good,” he said, sniffing you aggressively as he pressed you into the wall. You gulped and looked up at the numbers flashing on the screen, indicating that you were close to the basement now. The moment the elevator door opened, you pulled away under the guise of leaving the elevator, and hurried to the car.

Taehyung insisted that he wanted to take the car he’d driven here back home, as it was more comfortable, but then refused to hand you the keys so you could drive, instead forcing you to fish them out of his front pocket. He’d boxed you in with his body against the car while you’d done it, too, staring at you so intently that it made your face heat as you averted your gaze, trying to grab his keys without any accidents.

When the keys were finally in your hands, you slipped into the driver’s seat, trying to avoid staring at Taehyung as he went around to the other side of the car and slid gracefully into the passenger seat. You didn’t know what was going on, but you weren’t prepared for any of this, and it was making you slightly uncomfortable, especially because you couldn’t be sure that you didn’t like it. As inappropriate and wrong as all of this was, as much as you knew that this was just because of his heat and to entertain any fantasies would be taking advantage of him in this vulnerable state, there was a part of you that felt a sliver of interest. That, under all the fear and discomfort, had thrilled at having

As you started the car, you studiously ignored Taehyung. He huffed and undid the top few buttons on his shirt, then fiddled with the seat so that he was in a more comfortable reclining position. Your mind raced as you drove home – he’d never acted like this with you before, and you wondered if he was okay. The heat seemed to be worse than in previous years, and he must be really out of it by now. Was it even possible for him to get through this heat without a partner?

At a red light, you snuck a glance over at him, relieved to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to have fallen into a light doze. That was good, you thought, your heart warming at seeing his cute sleeping face. He should get some rest while he could, because it seemed like this heat would be hard on him. Your heart squeezed – it seemed unfair that hybrids had to go through this, and you wondered why on earth your ancestors had created hybrids this way.

After parking the car, you looked over at him and bit your lip. You didn’t really want to wake him up now that he seemed to be sleeping rather comfortably, but unfortunately there was no way that you would be able to carry a fully grown hybrid back to his apartment, so reluctantly, you reached over to shake him awake.

“Tae-oppa?” you called quietly. “We’re home.”

He stirred and looked at you with half-closed eyes, before nodding listlessly, and you felt like the scum of the earth for even entertaining the thought that his earlier actions were an advance, and especially for that tiny bit of arousal that you’d experienced feeling his erection dig into your belly earlier. He was clearly in a vulnerable position, and here you were, misinterpreting his actions and taking advantage of him by enjoying what his hormones were making him do.

It would do you well to remember that it was your ancestors who had made him like this. In a way, it was kind of your fault that he had to go through it, and you promised him silently that you would do whatever it took to help him through this.

You slid out of the car, then hurried over to the other side to help him out. He seemed a little woozy and weaker than normal, but otherwise fine, and even managed to get himself back to the apartment without any difficulty. A light sheen of sweat coated him by the time you’d reached the apartment, though, and he made to go straight to the bedroom, but you managed to coax him to take a shower first since it wasn’t likely that he would get another one before his heat ended.

“Tae-oppa?” you called as he was headed into the bathroom, already stripping his shirt off.

He grunted in acknowledgement, but didn’t turn around or stop.

“Do you want me to call someone to help you with your heat? Maybe Minhee-unnie, or Haeun-unnie?” you suggested some of his previous heat partners, girls he’d hooked up with regularly in the past. There were also services that provided heat partners, but you didn’t know if anyone would be available on such short notice.

Taehyung thought about it. It would probably be smart to find a partner to ride this heat out – it was hitting far stronger than he’d anticipated and he could scarcely think straight, especially now that he was in the apartment where your scent was so incredibly intense and mixed so thoroughly in with the smell of home – but the thought of having a heat partner strangely made him feel almost sick.

“No, it’s okay,” he responded brusquely, too out of it to temper his tone, and closed the door behind him in the bathroom.

Shivering, he stripped out of the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the handle to the coldest setting possible. He hissed and growled in displeasure as the ice cold water hit his skin, but he knew it was necessary. He was burning up, way too hot for a usual heat, and even in his compromised state of mind, he knew that this could be dangerous if he didn’t cool down, and quickly.

The cold shower didn’t do much for the desire raging through him, though, and he rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower stall and groaned. He was completely losing it, he could tell, and probably terrorizing you. He felt like an awful owner. You were so innocent and good, coming to get him from the studio, and he’d responded by basically assaulting you in the elevator earlier.

“Fuck!” he growled, slamming his fist into the wall. Even knowing that he was garbage wasn’t enough to stop him from recalling how amazing you’d smelled, how soft you’d felt under his hands, the way you’d melted against the press of his body in the elevator. You always smelled good to him, especially since he’d been discharged from the military, but today it seemed different. Better. The scent emanating from you was just slightly warmer, sweeter, spicier than the residual scent you’d left all over the apartment, including in the bathroom. In his heat-addled state, he couldn’t figure out why, but it was messing with his ability to keep his head on straight in a big way.

With another growl of frustration, he wrapped his hand around his cock, knowing that there was no way he could go back out into the apartment in the state he was in. It was fast and rough, and his orgasm was unsatisfying, barely enough to take the edge off the all-consuming hunger that bordered on pain, but he felt his mind clear just enough that he remembered all the reasons why bending his pet human over was a bad idea.

He got out of the shower and dried himself off perfunctorily, wrapping the towel around his waist because he hadn’t brought in fresh clothes. He was collecting his dirty clothes to drop into the laundry basket when, as he stood up, he caught sight of the box of tampons you’d left on top of the toilet. He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance – you were always forgetting to put them back under the sink after your period was over. It was one of his biggest pet peeves, the way you would just leave things lying around and causing clutter.

Wait a minute. He frowned again at the box. You’d had your last period a week ago, which meant…

Fuck.

All the pieces fell into place in his mind then, and it took massive amounts of restraint to avoid sending his fist clear through the wall. You were ovulating, which is why you smelled so good. All his hopes of not fixating on you during this heat were dashed. In previous cycles, he’d noted your ovulation because your scent had shifted, but it had never affected him much before. Now, though, that he was in heat, the scent that indicated your fertility was overwhelming, stripping all restraint from him. The mere thought of cumming into you and getting you pregnant had his wolf instincts rising, the hair on the back of his neck prickling as his erection ached and his balls drew up, desperate to fulfil their purpose.

This isn’t right, the part of him that was still in control screamed, but that voice was quickly being drowned out by his hormones. This was bad, he needed to lock himself in his room before he did something he couldn’t take back.

With that thought in his mind, he wrenched the bathroom door open, and the cool air from outside the bathroom felt nice and calming on his overheated skin, helping him to maintain some sanity. Thankfully, you’d gone into your room and shut the door, and he made a beeline for his own room, thinking that as long as he didn’t see or smell you, everything would be fine.

Unfortunately, thinking that you were being helpful, you’d gone into his room while he was in the bathroom to leave some water and snacks. He could see a few bottles neatly lined up on the bedside table, and the rest of the carton was sitting on the floor in a corner of the room. You’d also arranged the energy bars and fruit on the table, within easy reach of the bed. His heart clenched at how thoughtful you were, but even the short amount of time you’d spent in his room was enough to leave traces of your scent in his room.

Groaning, he shut the door behind him and threw himself on the bed, facedown. He landed with his face in your pillow and growled, biting down on it as he impatiently stripped the towel off and threw it into a corner. His hands clenched into fists as he swiveled his hips, pressing his painful erection into the sheets.

In the state he was in, thoughts about how wrong it was to get himself off to your scent flew right out the window as he took deep huffs of the pillow that had become saturated with your scent from months of you sleeping on it every night. As he worked himself closer to orgasm, he imagined that instead of the residual scent you’d left in his bed, it was you, warm and soft and pliant, letting him fuck you, use your body as he needed. You’d be so sweet to him, he thought, cooing at him as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, stroking the back of his neck and letting him mark you up as he plowed into you. Even in his fantasy, he wasn’t able to be gentle with you, holding the pillow between his teeth as he imagined the tender skin of your neck and collarbone in its place. His wolf instincts running high, he shuddered as he found his release to the picture of you he held in his mind, letting him fuck a whole litter of pups into you.

“Y/n, shit, fuck,” he groaned as he came, holding that sweet fantasy close as he rode out his orgasm. Floating high in its wake for a moment, he rolled onto his back and shut his eyes, enjoying the small aftershocks running through his body. He wished he could just stay in this moment for the rest of his heat, where the consuming need had abated somewhat, but before the clarity of mind orgasm gave him made all his guilt come flooding back.

He was a terrible, shitty hybrid and he was definitely going to hell. The thought made his ears droop sadly, but at least you weren’t here to witness his descent into madness. You were too good to him, such a sweet pet, he mused as he grabbed one of the bottles of water you’d so kindly put within easy reach and gulping it down. He wished he at least knew why this was happening all of a sudden. He’d never heard of or read about hybrid-human relationships, even though he knew that technically he was part human as well. It was all very confusing and scary, made worse by the fact that he had to hide what he was feeling from everyone, especially you, for fear that you would see him differently. He’d worked so hard to make sure that you felt safe in his home, and all of that would go down the drain immediately if you found out how alluring he found your scent now, and how difficult a time he was having keeping his hands off you.

In the midst of his heat, even the thought of you finding out that he was unabashedly using your scent to get off didn’t fill him with horror and shame as it should have. Instead, his mind started to conjure up fantasies of you biting your lip, cooing his name when you found what a state he’d worked himself into. Imaginary you stroked his fevered brow softly, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then slid your hand down his body to grasp his erection as real Taehyung did the same thing.

He’d already cum twice, so he could take his time a little more, stretch out the teasing and immerse himself in his fantasy. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip in an effort to muffle the whine he could feel building in his throat, he exhaled shakily. You’d be so sweet to him, stripping out of your clothes without him asking, leaning over him to kiss him sweetly. Your soft, gentle kisses would contrast against how confidently and tightly you were gripping his cock as you jerked him off, letting him moan and whimper into your mouth.

He wouldn’t be pliant for long – no, even in his fantasy he was needy, burning up, and you were the only thing that could save him from certain death. It would barely be a minute of you hovering over him, your hand on his cock, before he wouldn’t be able to take any more teasing. He’d grab you and flip the both of you over, so you landed on your back with him between your legs. He shuddered at the thought, turning onto his belly with his face back in your pillow, stacking his fists under him so they made a nice, deep hole for his cock to drill into.

You’d be wet and creamy already, letting him slide through your folds without any resistance. He thought about how soft and tight you’d be as he ran his fingers down your slit, stretching you out for his cock. Even in the state he was in, he would be careful not to hurt you, to prep you well so that when he finally took his rightful place deep inside you, there would be nothing but pleasure. Biting his lip, he slowly fucked into his fists, mimicking the way he would enter you for the first time.

Fantasy you arched into him and moaned helplessly, your walls tightening around him rhythmically as you adjusted to his length within you, and liquid heat pooled in his lower belly as he thought about the cute, breathy sounds you would make for him. Would you beg him for more, or tell him it was too much? He rather liked the idea of being too much for you, he found, enough to ruin you for any human man or hybrid who came after him. If he had his way, you’d always be his.

He groaned and huffed as he picked up his pace, rutting into his fists as the head of his cock brushed against the sheets. Thousand thread count sheets and yet the fabric dragged almost unpleasantly against the oversensitive flesh, far rougher than he was sure your silken heat would be.

As he jerked himself off relentlessly, he imagined that it was you he was plowing into, biting savagely into the pillow as he imagined that it was your neck he was marking up. His climax was close now, he could feel it, and he panted heavily as he strained for it. “Please,” he grunted, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Please, I need it.”

Like a wish granted, his orgasm washed over him, and he shuddered all over as he came to your scent again. “Y/n,” he groaned, your name like a prayer on his lips as copious amounts of cum landed in a pool on the sheets. “Fuck,” he breathed, right before he collapsed into a heat nap.

Almost two hours had passed since you’d gone into your room. You’d spent it comfortably enough, curled into your oversized armchair reading, but it was almost dark out now and you were getting hungry.

Putting your book down and removing the noise-cancelling headphones that ensured you’d be able to look Taehyung in the eye once his heat ended, you opened your bedroom door and poked your head out slightly hesitantly. Once, when you were thirteen, you’d been careless and just waltzed right out of Yoongi’s room and run into a very naked Taehyung gulping down water in the kitchen, and it had scared the crap out of the both of you. Needless to say, ever since then you’d checked to make sure the coast was clear before going anywhere in the apartment whenever any of them had their heats.

When all you saw was Taehyung’s closed bedroom door further down the corridor, you slipped out of your room and into the kitchen, tying your hair back into a ponytail as you gathered up ingredients. You didn’t know if Taehyung was up to have a full meal, but if he was, a nice, soothing soybean stew ought to hit the spot. Already licking your lips in anticipation, you put the earthenware port on the stove and turned it on, humming to yourself as you prepared the food.

When it was done, you left it on the stove and went to get Taehyung. Sometimes even during his heat he would be capable of coming to eat a meal with you, and you figured it was worth a shot. If not, you could always eat alone and leave the stew for him to reheat when he felt hungry enough.

“Tae-oppa?” you said softly, knocking on his door.

For a second, there was no noise from inside and you assumed he was asleep, but as you were about to walk away you heard a rustle, and then he said, in a slightly slurred tone, “Come in.”

You opened the door, and were immediately assaulted by the smell in the room, but you tried not to wrinkle your nose as you stepped in, knowing that Taehyung would be able to see it even in the dark. “Oppa, I made dinner, do you want to come join me?”

Your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness of the room, and you were hardly able to see anything, but you heard Taehyung moving and assumed he was coming to join you for dinner. Starting to turn around to exit the room, you were caught off guard when he instead pushed you up against the door, which in turn slammed shut. The air was knocked from your lungs and you saw stars for a moment, standing still in his grasp as you tried to figure out what just happened.

Taehyung, however, immediately took advantage of your confusion to crowd you against the door with his body. Your frame was completely dwarfed by his, one of his hands on your hip while the other was pressed to the wood beside your ear. “You smell so goddamn good,” he groaned as he bent to press his nose to your neck.

Now you were confused for a whole different reason, because his words, his proximity, the bare erection he was pressing into your belly, all of those things confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt what you’d earlier tried to deny to yourself. For some reason, your owner wanted you, and you didn’t know what to do.

“Tae-oppa –” you said timidly, trying to extricate yourself from this situation, but as he dragged his tongue up the length of your neck, right to your ear, your words cut off in a choked gasp. You shuddered involuntarily, hating yourself for reacting when you knew how wrong this all was.

“Y/n-ah, you smell so good, so ripe,” he said against your ear as he started to swivel his hips, thrusting against you. Against your will, your core clenched, and you cringed as you felt a rush of wetness escape you. Your vain hopes that he didn’t know how wet you’d become, even with his heightened hybrid senses, were dashed when he groaned again, this time a long, low sound full of agony, and pressed his lips to yours.

You were stock still for a moment, your mind blanking out, unable to comprehend what was going on. Every instinct was screaming at you to get out of there, that this was wrong, bad, sick, but your hands wouldn’t cooperate, half stretched out but not touching him, just hovering over his body.

“Y/n, it hurts,” he groaned, resting his head against your forehead and panting heavily. It sounded like there wasn’t enough air in the room for him, and you could empathize – the uncomfortably warm and humid atmosphere wasn’t comfortable for you, let alone a hybrid going through heat at the moment.

“What’s wrong, oppa?” you asked, stroking your hands down his side in a bid to bring him comfort, your initial reluctance to touch him or do anything that might give him the wrong idea forgotten in your haste to do anything that might make him feel better. Even touching his bare sides confirmed to you that he was burning up, and he usually ran warmer than you did as it was. Frowning, you tried to touch his face, to see whether he was feverish enough for it to be dangerous. If there was something wrong this time – and based on his strange behavior, you were already inclined to think there was – you had to call someone to come help him immediately.

A sob ripped through him as your hand landed on his face, and he nuzzled aggressively into your palm. “You feel okay,” you murmured, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He was warmer than usual, but not so hot that you were alarmed.

Instead of responding to your comment, he begged again, “Please help me, Y/n-ah.” The abject misery in his tone tugged at your heartstrings, and in that moment you knew you would do anything if it prevented him from suffering any more.

“What do you need, Tae-oppa?” you asked quietly, steeling yourself for what was pretty sure would be the reply. By this point, you weren’t even thinking about whether or not you personally wanted to do this – and you were fairly ambivalent about the whole thing, if you were being honest – and your entire paradigm shifted, with Taehyung in the center of it.

Instead of answering with words, he bent down slightly and hoisted you up with his hands on the back of your thighs, slotting himself between them neatly as he pressed you into the door. In this position, his prominent erection rubbed against your core, like a fiery brand burning through your shorts and panties.

You whimpered. You didn’t know which way was up – it had been so long since you’d broken up with your ex back in Geochang, and you hadn’t had any action since, and the way he was moving against you triggered every carnal instinct you possessed. At the same time, your rational mind knew that this was wrong, that he was a hybrid and you were a human. You were different species, for God’s sake, and you’d never seen him in any light other than as your owner and guardian. Somehow, though, none of that mattered when he made another pained noise.

Hesitantly, you slipped your arms around his neck and started kissing him back. Your tentative overtures were nothing like the way he greedily devoured your mouth as a precursor to the way he wanted to eat you alive, but his reaction was dramatic enough that it didn’t seem he minded too much. Pressing you back more firmly against the door, he slipped one hand from your thigh up your camisole, his long fingers stretching up your ribcage.

You shivered at his touch, although you weren’t sure whether it was in arousal or revulsion. Nevertheless, you steeled yourself and let him grope you, kiss you, do whatever he wanted. You were quickly realizing that you would do anything to help Taehyung, even give up your own body. After all, he was the person who had saved you all those years ago. It was the least you could do for him, no matter what your personal thoughts on the matter were.

Still, there was something about how enthusiastically he was kissing and touching you that was incredibly persuasive, stirring something deep within you that wanted to respond in kind. Slowly, your kisses became bolder, and when you tentatively swiped your tongue against his bottom lip, his whole body shuddered in a way that made you feel powerful.

“Fuck,” he growled, and still holding on to you, he turned and strode over to the bed, dropping you unceremoniously down on it. You’d barely landed when his hands were at work again, hooking his fingers in your waistband and pulling down your shorts and panties at the same time.

“Fuck,” he repeated more softly this time as he dropped the discarded clothing carelessly. He levelled his body over yours, an elbow planted into the bed beside you to help balance himself as he slid his other hand down your soft belly to your pussy. You widened your legs accommodatingly to his touch, biting your lip to stay quiet when his hand slid over you, just a little too hard to be pleasurable over the sensitive flesh.

“Shit, this heat is going to be the death of me,” he huffed, sounding more lucid now that you were under him than he had at any point before. He settled between your legs and bent his head back down to rub his nose against your neck again, but that one throwaway comment stuck in your mind, causing you to stiffen under him uncomfortably. Your stomach twisted unpleasantly in panic as you realized what you’d almost done. He was in heat, unable to think straight, and instead of protecting him from making a hormone-fueled decision that he would definitely have regretted as soon as his heat passed, you’d been about to enable it.

Whatever arousal you might have been feeling evaporated in an instant, shame and horror filling you instead. Taehyung was so out of it that he didn’t notice the chance in your body language, but he sure as hell noticed when you tried to scramble away from him, though you weren’t very successful since his entire weight was pressing down on you, pinning you in place.

Still, you made a little headway squirming away from him before his eyes opened wide again and he frowned down at you, pressing his hips more firmly down into you to pin you down. “Stop,” he protested. “What are you doing?”

“Oppa, we can’t do this,” you cried out, distressed, as you continued to struggle away from him. But he was bigger and stronger than you were, and pinned you down easily.

“Why not,” he whined, his breath ruffling the hair by your temple. He was still panting heavily as you squirmed under him, and you stopped, realizing that your movement was making the situation worse. In your despair, tears began to prick at your eyes, and the scent of your distress, cutting sharply through the intoxicating aroma of your arousal, gave him pause.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked with some concern, lifting himself off you slightly so that he could peer down at your face. The moment you felt his weight leave you, you used your newfound leverage to push him so hard he lost his balance, falling to the mattress next to you. You wouldn’t have been able to do it if he’d been expecting it and bracing against it, you knew, because he was just so much stronger than you naturally.

In a flash, you were up and running for your life, sprinting for his bedroom door. You didn’t bother grabbing the rest of your clothes, knowing there was no time. Even with the head start you’d gotten on Taehyung, you knew that it would be close when he snarled and pushed himself off the bed, chasing after you.

Shit, you swore to yourself as you ran for your bedroom. It loomed ahead of you, seeming to get further away as your vision narrowed in your panic. You could hear Taehyung thundering down the hallway after you, and with his longer stride and superior hybrid strength, he was gaining on you at an alarming pace. Even though you knew this was probably nothing for him, he was panting loudly enough for you to hear it, and you cringed as you remembered how alluring the chase was to wolves. Did Taehyung have that in common with them? You were starting to realise that despite being with him for so long, there were enormous gaps in your knowledge about him. Of course, you’d never expected that you would need to know such intimate details about him, but here you were.

You ducked into your room and slammed the door shut just in time, wincing as you heard Taehyung crash into the solid oak with a furious snarl. You flipped the lock into place right before he started abusing the door handle, banging loudly and pulling way too hard on the handle as he yelled for you. “Y/n-ie? Baby, please unlock the door. Just talk to me, baby, I just wanna talk, I won’t do anything else, please.” He continued to beg and wheedle, his voice turning into a whine.

Oh, God. You had no clue how to handle this, and it was turning into a nightmare. You backed away from the door, trying to give yourself as much distance as possible to think. You had to call for reinforcements, you knew. There was no way in hell you were going out there, and Taehyung was out of his mind right now.

Running your hands through your hair in stress, you picked up the phone that you’d thankfully left on your bedside table instead of on the kitchen counter. There was only one person who could help you, you knew. Namjoon.

You sat on the floor with your back against the door the entire time you waited for him to arrive, trying to offer Taehyung comfort and companionship without actually opening the door, which you knew would lead to something you couldn’t take back given the state he was in. He’d given up on yelling and trying to break into your room, since the door was sturdy enough to withstand his efforts to knock it down. In utter despair and misery now, he was on the floor whimpering and whining, and your heart broke with every sad, pathetic noise he made. It took everything in you not to open the door and give him what he so desperately wanted, and it was only the knowledge that he would hate himself, and you, once the heat passed that gave you the strength to resist.

Thankfully, Namjoon had a key to the apartment, because you didn’t know how you would have gotten all the way to the front door to let him in with Taehyung still camped outside your bedroom. You knew when he arrived because Taehyung’s sad, soft whines transformed into angry growls. He was infuriated at another hybrid encroaching on what he considered to be his territory during his heat, with his bitch in the vicinity, and you were terrified that he would actually attack the older man, yet another thing that he would hate himself for when he was back in his right frame of mind.

Grateful that you’d thought to dress yourself once you were back in your room, you opened the door, distracting Taehyung from Namjoon as he immediately attached himself to you. Patting his back while trying to keep his hands from straying to inappropriate places, it took you a moment to realize that Namjoon had brought Yoongi with him, and you squinted in confusion at the snow leopard hybrid.

“You should stay with Yoongi until Tae’s heat passes,” Namjoon explained. “I’ll keep an eye on Taehyung.”

That sounded like a good idea in theory, but how poorly Taehyung had reacted to having them in his apartment during his heat made you skeptical of how it would play out. Even now, Taehyung’s distraction was fading away, and he was standing protectively in front of you as he growled threateningly at the intruders.

“His instincts are amped up because of you, for some reason. If you aren’t here anymore, he should calm down.”

You chewed on your lip indecisively. The doubt in Namjoon’s voice made you want to protest, to reject his proposal. How could you endanger both Taehyung and Namjoon on a hunch?

Really, though, what was the alternative? You couldn’t possibly give in to Taehyung; he would be filled with regret and self-loathing once he returned to normal, and you needed to protect him from that.

“Okay,” you acquiesced finally. You tried to step around Taehyung to go to Yoongi, but he whipped around, alarmed.

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asked, panicked, his arms wrapping around you immediately.

“Oppa, let me go, please?” you begged softly, hoping futilely that Namjoon and Yoongi wouldn’t hear your conversation with him. Somehow, this felt too intimate for anyone else to witness.

Taehyung brushed his thumb along your cheekbone, wiping away the stray tear in what had to be the most tender gesture he’d made towards you since his heat started. “Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

“Tae-oppa, I’ll see you after your heat, okay?” you managed, forcing the words out past the lump in your throat. “Be nice to Namjoon-oppa. I love you.” You’d said it to him so many times before, but it carried a different weight this time that you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Y/n-ie…” He didn’t let you go, but his grip loosened ever so slightly, and you took the opportunity to twist yourself out of his embrace, and hurried over to Yoongi. He gave you a small smile as he held his hand out to you.

As you left the apartment with Yoongi, you heard Taehyung give a heart-rending roar, and almost said to hell with it and ran back to him. As if sensing your internal conflict, Yoongi’s hand tightened on yours, making it impossible for you to leave his side.

You sobbed in the car all the way to Yoongi’s apartment, the reality of everything setting into you only after you’d left the situation, and the adrenaline that had kept you going left your system. You didn’t understand what was going on, but the pure misery you’d heard in Taehyung’s voice as he called out for you stayed with you. It was your fault somehow, you knew. Taehyung was suffering because of you, because of your ancestors, cruel people who’d made him the way he was for their own selfish purposes. Everything was your fault.

For the next four days, you barely left Yoongi's guest bedroom. He gave up trying to coax you to watch Netflix with him or come to the studio to interact with the other members. Instead, he left you alone for the most part, only coming to get you when it was meal time or when he had an update from Namjoon.

Apparently, after you'd left he'd barricaded himself in his own bedroom and hadn't left. Namjoon was trying to get him to eat a proper meal, but it was tough - thankfully, there was still the stew you'd cooked and hadn't gotten a chance to eat on the stove, because it wasn't like Namjoon was capable of cooking a nutritious homemade meal from scratch. After several attempts, Taehyung had finally allowed Namjoon to hand him the meal on a tray, which he ate in his room and left the empty dishes outside the door after.

Apart from that, you didn't know much because he wasn't interacting with Namjoon, so your secondhand information was limited at best. It didn't really help your anxiety about the whole situation, but at least you knew he was alive, and you'd really left enough food and water in his bedroom for several heats, so there wasn't a problem on that front.

You used the time, instead, to think about what had happened during the first day of Taehyung's heat. For the entire four days you were at Yoongi's, you basically thought about nothing else. He'd wanted you. Now that you were thinking about it in that light, a lot of the other strange things he'd been doing made a lot more sense. He wasn't just reacting to your familiar scent, or pack bond, or whatever bullshit it was that he'd been feeding you. You realised with a start that he'd been attracted to you.

That realisation didn't make you feel better - in fact, you had more questions than before. How long had this been going on? How could this happen? Was this normal? Was he normal? And, most importantly, how did you feel about it all?

With so much time on your hands all of a sudden, you thought about it obsessively, and cycled through almost every possible emotion.

First came the knee-jerk reaction of disgust and horror, of course. How could this happen? How could you let this happen? You sobbed as you thought about how wrong all of this was, how weird, how inappropriate it was that Taehyung was attracted to you, a human and his pet, for God's sake. And he'd fucking lied about it too, feeding you that bullshit about his pack bond and lulling you into a false sense of security so you'd continue to stay with him, when he should have told you what was happening and let you move away as soon as he started feeling this way.

But then - and almost against your will, because you did not want to start empathizing with him and trying to justify the shitty things he'd done to you in your mind - you started to see things his way. If it was so wrong to you, it must have been a million times worse for him, the one who'd been caught so off-guard by these new, entirely unexpected emotions. He must have been blindsided, felt so lost and scared, when he realised what was going on. Your traitorous heart felt a pang of sympathy for him. Of course he hadn't wanted to tell you; he'd probably not even been ready to admit it to himself.

Lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling, you tried to sort out your thoughts. Whether you liked it or not, you were programmed to want to please your owner, and that included understanding them. Your psyche had done its job and let you understand, with very little information and no help, Taehyung's motivations and frame of mind.

What it wouldn't help with, however, was understanding how you felt about all of this. You sighed and rolled onto your belly, burying your face in the pillows, stifling the urge to scream in frustration.

You knew you cared about Taehyung. Despite everything else, that hadn't changed. You couldn't forget the way he'd taken you in, given you a loving home and everything a human could possibly ask for, and asked for nothing in return. He'd even done his best to hide his growing desire from you when - let's be real - he could have acted on it whenever he wanted. It's not like anyone would believe you over him. You loved him, and you were so grateful to him for taking you in when nobody else would, and saving you from a miserable childhood in the shelter. Everything you had - everything you were - was because of him.

Still, you couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was wrong, that it was immoral and inappropriate and sick to be in a human-hybrid relationship. Not after everything that had happened between the two species. Not when you were literally different species.

With a groan of despair that was muffled by the pillows, you flailed a little in frustration. What were you to do? You were still no closer to an answer than you'd been when you'd first started thinking about all of this literal days ago.

Namjoon didn't know - and, God willing, would never know - that Taehyung had found your discarded shorts and underwear on his bedroom floor after you'd left, and had been using that to help him get off ever since. In the state he was in, he wasn't even capable of feeling shame or remorse at what he was doing, and was just ecstatic that he finally had something better than your residual scent on his sheets to get off to.

He sniffed at the crotch of your panties - buried his face in them, really - licked and sucked at the stains that your arousal had left in them, and tried to memorise the scent as he masturbated furiously throughout the entire four days of his heat. By the end of it, there was barely any trace of you left on the scrap of fabric, something he bemoaned as he worked himself to the final unsatisfying orgasm of his heat.

His whole room was a mess - it stank of sex and debauchery, and there was cum all over the place - the floor, the pillows from when he'd rutted them, all over the sheets. As he fell into a deep sleep, he wondered if you'd be able to smell it, even with your weak human nose, when you came back.

He kind of hoped you would. His heat-addled mind wanted you to know what he'd done for you.

When Taehyung woke up, finally lucid after running through his heat, the first thing he did was remove your panties from his mouth. He grimaced in disgust - how had he literally fallen asleep with them there? God, he was truly awful - and tossed them aside, grabbing a half-finished bottle of water from between the pillows and downing it. He was parched, and the the water in the bottle wasn't enough for him.

As he got up on shaky legs to grab another bottle from the corner, he recognized for the first time how ravenous he was, and after picking up his water, brought it with him while he left his bedroom for the first time in days to find some food.

Thinking that he was alone, he didn't bother getting dressed, so when he reached the end of the hallway and entered the common area of the apartment, he screamed like a little girl and ran all the way back to his room in embarrassment when Namjoon, sitting on the couch with his Kindle, turned around to see him in his full naked glory. It was nothing the older man hadn't seen before, of course - you see all sorts of things when you live together for as long as they had - but it was still embarrassing, especially after so long being apart.

By the time he re-emerged sheepishly, fully dressed, Namjoon was waiting for him with a smirk. "You didn't need to react like that, you know," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Taehyung grumped. "I'm starving, is there anything to eat?"

Namjoon rolled his eyes. "What do you think this is, Masterchef?" he quipped. "I just called for delivery, it should be here soon," he continued.

Taehyung, on hearing that, gave his leader his best boxy smile. "Thanks, hyung! You're the best!" he cheered, going to sit on the other end of the couch to wait.

Namjoon, figuring that he would leave the questions till after the other man had eaten, went back to his Kindle. Taehyung, though, seemed to have other ideas.

"Hyung, have you been here all this while?" he asked curiously.

"Uh, yeah," Namjoon replied. "Somebody had to take care of you."

"Where's Y/n?" came the next question.

Namjoon hesitated then. "How much do you remember?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to say anything that might startle or upset Taehyung.

"Uhh..." Taehyung frowned, thinking hard. "I remember Y/n smelling real good," he said, shivering at just the memory of it. "Then she was in my room, under me... then..." he trailed off, his eyes widening in horror as he started remembering in detail what had happened.

"Oh, my God," he groaned, burying his head in his hands. "I'm awful," he said, beginning to sob.

"Hey, don't say that about yourself," Namjoon said, alarmed, drawing closer as he patted the younger man on the back comfortingly. "You're not awful, you were just caught up in your heat, that's all."

"No, you don't understand!" Taehyung cried out, obviously distressed. "I'm the worst; I'm a disgusting hybrid and pet owner, and I should be put behind bars for Y/n's safety, and probably the rest of society, too," he finished miserably, his ears drooping.

Namjoon tried to calm Taehyung down to explain what he meant by that, but before he succeeded, the food arrived, and with that distraction readily available, the younger man clammed up as he stuffed his face full of japchae and kimchi stew to avoid talking.

Eventually, when everything had been finished - even the weird sweetcorn banchan that no one ever finished - Taehyung couldn't put it off any longer.

"You'll hate me," he protested dejectedly when Namjoon tried again to coax him to spill the beans.

"Bro, if I didn't hate you after you threw up all over me when you had food poisoning, how could anything make me hate you now?" Namjoon countered reasonably.

That made sense, so with a heavy sigh, Taehyung told Namjoon the entire sordid tale. The words came out stiltedly at first, then started pouring out, as Taehyung started speaking faster and faster, until it sounded like he was the rapper in the group. The more he spilled, the lighter the weight on his shoulders became, as if by telling someone else, he was transferring the burden. Namjoon, to his credit, listened quietly, his expression remaining open and neutral as he took in Taehyung's story, interjecting only to ask clarifying questions but never to pass any judgement.

When Taehyung was finally done - he left out the bit about him using your dirty underwear to get him through his heat, because hyung or not, there were some things that should be kept to himself - he leaned back against the couch cushions with a heavy sigh. This was it, he knew. No matter how accepting his hyung was, there were some things that were just too much, and this was one of those. As he'd been telling the story from the beginning, starting from the day you'd come to pick him up from his army base, how awful it all was hit him again, amplified by revising the entirety of how he'd abused you and your trust.

"So you see," he concluded his story with a small sigh, "I'm a disgusting pervert who should probably die for the sake of society."

To his shock, Namjoon leaned in and squeezed his knee. "Don't say that about yourself," he castigated. "I'll do some reading and see if I can find out more about this, but you shouldn't panic, okay? I'm sure I'll be able to find an explanation and solution for you. Trust your hyung."

The way he said that, so sure and steady, made Taehyung relax, almost against his will. Namjoon had been there for him for almost half of his life now, and he knew, from the determined set of his jaw, that he would come through for him again.

"Okay."

After their conversation, Namjoon texted Yoongi to let him know that the coast was clear and quickly made himself scarce, not wanting to get in the way of whatever emotional reunion you were going to have, knowing Taehyung.

Yoongi, for his part, tried his best to get you back home as quickly as possible, and you didn't have the heart to tell him that you would actually have appreciated a little more time away from Taehyung. You felt bad, but you were still so unsure about everything that was happening, and you were, if you were being completely honest, a little afraid to go home and face him.

Which led to you, standing outside your front door like an idiot, your fist raised to knock, but unable to actually do it. There would be no going back from this, you knew. Nothing would ever be the same again, one way or another. Was it so wrong of you to want to keep things the way they were, just for a second?

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your fist against the solid wood of the door, wincing at the loud sound it made. Almost too quickly, you heard the patter of footsteps as Taehyung raced to the door and opened it.

"Hi," you breathed awkwardly, standing like an idiot with no clue of what to say or do all of a sudden.

Taehyung, it seemed, had no such problems as he pulled you into a hug and kicked the door shut with his foot. "Y/n, you came back," he breathed into your hair as he squeezed the life out of you.

Even though you'd been so nervous just a second earlier, being in his warm, familiar embrace made it feel like everything would be okay again, and you couldn't help but melt into his embrace. "Of course I came back, oppa," you said quietly into his chest.

"I thought... I thought..." Taehyung choked up and he couldn't continue as he dissolved into sobs. "I'm so sorry!" he cried instead, over and over again as you soothed him, telling him that everything would be okay, that you would always be here for him, that you were never going to leave him no matter what, as you stroked his ears comfortingly, the way you knew he liked.

"Hey, it's okay," you repeated as you patted his back, leaning up on tiptoe to press kisses to as much of his face as you could reach. And it was. Just being with Taehyung, in that moment, gave you a clarity that you hadn't been able to find after days of agonizing over it. Taehyung had saved you, and you loved him. It was as simple as that. And listening to him blubber about how sorry he was, how he'd work on it, he promised, how he'd never do anything like that again if you would just forgive him, you knew that whatever Taehyung wanted, you'd give to him, no matter how you felt about it.

"It's okay," you said one last time as his sobs petered out. "Whatever you want, it's okay."

Taehyung didn't fully register at the time how much you meant what you'd said to him that day, but he would soon.

It was weeks later that Namjoon finally made a breakthrough on his research. Weeks of obsessively searching, trawling through endless pages on the dark web and the dregs of reddit, before he finally found something. It was an old research paper, hundreds of years old, published by a now-defunct, of course, company that had manufactured hybrids. The paper was titled "Research advancements in imprinting technology in hybrids".

"Oh my God," Namjoon breathed in shock and horror as he skimmed the paper. This was way more serious than either he or Taehyung had initially thought.

#btswritingcafe #magicshopnet #bangtansmutcentral #btswriterscollective #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts #bts fic #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #hybrid bts #taehyung smut #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts future au

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Response

Summary: Malachai/Reader; When hiding your crush goes too far

“Hey Malachai. You busy?” You peer around the doorway of the office in his house and he peers over the reading glasses he has grinning. “Not for you; what’s up?” “I just wanted to tell you something; kinda of big.” “Oh? Got some words about some score?” “No, uhh, Lance proposed.” “Oh, you said yes right?” You try not to frown when Malachai forces a laugh. “Yeah I did.” You find yourself forcing a smile right back at Malachai and try your best not to voice the chorus of please stop me, please tell me you love me that repeats in your head as Malachai turns back to the paper work. “Let me know when the wedding is; I’ll save the date and all that.” He waves his hand and you sulk off, lingering in the hallway but far enough away you miss the way he hisses in anger shoving the paper work to the floor trying his best to snarl but it just ending up as sobbing.

The same is said for him; his imprisonment in his office results in him not seeing your eyes track the pictures of the Ghoulies hanging on the hallway; most of them some variation of you and him together, the other Ghoulies filtering in and out, Lance missing in all of them. He misses how you curl into yourself walking down the hall feeling more and more like a mistake; you make it to the living room, your eye catching onto the shelf that holds all the skulls and other knick-knacks; a sinking pit in your stomach that crawls up into your chest when you realize half of the items are things you’d bought on trips Malachai had sent you out on.

You’re not planning on avoiding him but James appears mumbling about you needing to show up to the next meeting or else; and you roll your eyes only a little shocked you’d managed to successfully avoid three meetings so far. You wonder why Malachai is so intent on letting your slacking go unpunished; maybe he just assumed you’re busy with wedding things. You’d been avoiding Lance if you’re honest as well; you’d gone to the first meeting after announcing the wedding to everyone; most of the Ghoulies congratulating you and making sly jokes about you trying to climb ranks; everyone switches it up claiming Lance is using you to climb ranks. You ignore the way Jenny’s hands linger on Lance and how he doesn’t seem to look towards you besides when someone almost shoves his head towards you. James keeps his voice steady as he repeats that Malacahi needs to see you now. He hisses and goads you towards the House of the Dead and you follow like the lamb you know you are, wondering how fast the slaughter will be.

You’re almost nervous when he calls you into the back of his house; it’s his bedroom, and area Ghoulies only go into when they don’t come out the same, either physically or emotionally injured. You hate how you hope it’s just a physically injury. You’re not sure what he’s upset about, missing meetings with a valid reason was never a problem; you couldn’t count the number of times the other Ghoulies had missed months of meetings just because they’d slept in or been in different cities unknown to the rest of the members.

“Y/N. Sit.” He gestures to the edge of the bed and you’re about to say something when he shoves a crumbled piece of paper into your face, almost pushing you back on the bed from the force of it. You’ve never seen him this upset and you hastily pull at the paper smoothing it to scan over the familiar rsvp and save the date letter you’d packed fifty of a week ago. You’re about to question it, but instead note the check mark that had been crossed out and redone at least four time. You finish smoothing it out and fold it nicely.

“Oh come on Y/N, you can’t be serious right? This is the most overly honeyed sryup-y fake love sounding wedding invitation I’ve ever read! Yeah sure till death do you part; uh-huh we’re all gonna believe that.” He snarls pulling the letter back towards him; you release it nervous about him ripping it. “Malachai please stop; please just-“ “You’re gonna die at 12:45 on May 17th; don’t worry I RSVP’d you’ll see me there, I’ll be in the back; waiting. You’ll be up at the altar minus the casket.” He snaps throwing the letter to the floor.

“Why are you so hung up on me marrying him? It was fine when he proposed; when we were dating but as soon as he wants to marry me? As soon as I want to be happy; there’s a problem? Why can’t you just let me be happy?” You scowl at him and watch as he recoils. “IF YOU THINK I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT WHO INTRODUCED YOU; WHO SPENT ALL THAT TIME WITH YOU TRYING TO FIND YOUR DREAM GUY AND LETTING YOU SETTLE CAUSE WHOEVER YOU HAD IN MIND WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU. COME ON Y/N; HOW CAN I MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU THIS ENTIRE TIME.” “YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME WHEN I ASKED ABOUT GUYS WHO WERE INTERESTED IN ME!” You match his volume voice wavering only slightly and biting your tongue to scream how much you want to forget the whole wedding unless it’s with him.

“YOU NEVER WANTED ME!!” “I ONLY EVER WANTED YOU” You jerk back half panting form anger half sobbing when Malachai hesitantly tries to reach towards you. “Y/N.” “It’s fine Malachai; we’ve moved past it.” “Can’t move past something that never happened.” “Why does it hurt then?” You offer, your voice cracking and half hidden behind the tears starting.

“Y/N, baby come here.” He offers his arms out and you let yourself fold into him. You sit in silence trying your best not to memorize his face and his tattoo’s, or how his arms tighten around you and he sighs body relaxing slightly when you press yourself closer to him. “I caught Lance with Jenny; twice.” “I caught him three times, once with James, and twice more with Jenny.” Malachai speaks softly and you nod, not caring if he’s lying.

“And how many people have you been with?” You ask, not trying to justify anything, he just shakes his head and sighs. “None, not since we didn’t have anything happen.” You try your best to laugh but just end up crying for a moment. “Come on Y/N. It-“ “Didn’t matter.” You sigh resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Lance doesn’t even care.” Malachai hums in agreement and you try to nod but he leans back so you’re both lying on the bed. “Just relax, just sleep okay.” You don’t nod, keeping silent as you try your best to not think of anything that happened in the past twenty minutes.

You wake up alone, under the covers; you can hear people moving father towards the front of the house and you can’t hear much of anything beyond what sounds like casual chatter. You slide out of bed shaking off the sleep that remains and cringing when you can hear someone drop something expecting shouting; nothing comes and you try your best to keep your mind off of everything before your impromptu nap. “Mal’s? How long was I asleep?” You call out getting no response and sigh. “Malachai?” You continue to call as you walk into the living and main meeting room.

“Oh, hey Damien.” You nod to the Ghoulie sitting in the armchair. “Hey Y/N. Mal’s went out to get a drink. And food; he’s getting Pop’s I put in your usual order.” “Thanks Damien.” He nods and you can see the way his eyes flicker back to you that he knows. “He’s not getting Pop’s is he?” “Oh he is; he just had to-“ Damien doesn’t finish as Malachai comes back in holding pops in one hand and trying to hide something in his other hand as he see’s you in the room.

“Boss she’s-“ “I can see that Damien.” “I was gonna text you but-“ “It’s okay; go get your burger kid.” “I’m older than both of you.” “Then go get your burger gramps.” Malachai grins and Damien smirks. “What did you do?” You glare and Malachai rolls his eyes hold a bunch of flowers he’d tucked behind himself.

“You got me flowers?” “You always said flowers helped when you were sad.” “I said that like a year ago.” Malachai shrugs and hands them to you. You’re sitting next to Damien across from Malachai when theres a banging on the door. “Ignore it.” Damien shrugs and takes the distraction to steal two of your fries. “Hey those were mine!” You laugh and he grins Malachai’s eyes stray from the door only slightly. “Excuse me.” He huffs getting up and vanishing to the entrance way to answer the continued banging.

“So please tell me he didn’t plan some horrible surprise for me?” “Oh no; he’s making you make up for the missed meetings.” “Wait there’s a Ghoul meeting right now? I can’t; I have to-“ You’re trying to come up with an excuse and Damien shakes his head, nodding back to the seat you’d scrambled out of. “So. I’m glad we all responded in a decent time; as we all know. Y/N and Lance are getting married in May. Any objections? I have a feeling we’re not going to be let in the church; hell I think some of us might combust.” He wink and a couple of the Ghoulies laugh. “Well?” “This is dumb.” You speak up and a couple of the members grin shaking their heads.

“It’s not, not when it comes to you.” They chorus different iterations of this and you can feel annoyance prickling behind your eyes. “WHY? What the fuck does everyone suddenly care about me!!??” “We don’t; Malachai is in love with you so we gotta keep you happy.” The room goes silent and you turn to look at Malachai. “Malachai is what?” Malachai shakes his head. “Like you didn’t know that.” “You said you wanted me back, not that you were in love with me! That’s a whole different playing field Mals!” Malachai shakes his head.

“Not really, when it comes to you it doesn’t matter how I feel. I just need you to be happy, no matter who it’s with. Lance makes you happy we go with Lance; if it’s Damien or Sasha, hell even FP; whoever makes you happy, whatever makes you happy; is what my goal is. No matter what.” “So if I said I wanted you to kill someone.” “Name them. You mean everything to me Y/N.” “Then why were you letting me get away! Why did you never say anything?”

Malachai chews him lip and looks away from you towards the rest of the Ghoulies before nodding at them to leave. You sit, waiting as they leave, as the quiet settles on the house of the dead once more. You swear you can’t even hear the two of you breathing. “Y/N.” You’re not even sure where it came form or if he even opened his mouth but you nod waiting for an explanation. He nods back towards the back rooms; and you idly wonder what is going to happen in his bedroom this time.

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