meowforluv

[meowforluv]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: it’s never over

masterlist

• listen while you read

cw: crude humour, mild language, hints of depression

The phone’s glow illuminated a mask of frustration on Megumi's face — a crinkled nose, deepening eyebags, a leg hammering against the floor. In a sudden, violent motion, he threw the phone. It wasn't enough. He pressed his palms into his eyes, his head collapsing into his hands as a wave of pure frustration crashed over him.

The clock on the wall was a relentless accomplice to the silence in the room. Each tick a small and sharp reminder of her absence.

Yn’s absence.

Outside, the rain had started again. A persistent drumming against the windowpane. Not the kind of drumming you would hear from the garage courteous of Yuji, no. It was the kind of drumming that mirrored the dull ache in Megumi’s chest.

He stared out at the streets, glistening as the city lights blurred into a watercolor of melancholy hues. It was a night for lovers, the kind of night that drives people together, seeking warmth and solace from the damp chill.

And yet, he was alone.

The bed was made, the sheets crisp and cool to the touch. He’d smoothed them over for the third time, a futile attempt to impose order on the chaos of his thoughts.

An open window let in the scent of wet asphalt and blooming jasmine, a fragrance that would forever be intertwined with her. In the corner, the soft glow of a single lamp cast long shadows, a solitary beacon in the dimness of his self-inflicted exile. He was a keeper of this lonely vigil, a man burning in a self-made pyre of longing.

He thought of her smile, the easy way it crinkled the corners of her eyes, and the sound of her laughter, a melody he’d trade all his worldly possessions to hear again. It was a fool’s bargain, he knew. He’d been too young, too reckless, too blind to the damage he was causing until it was done. Now, the weight of his own foolishness pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

His body ached with a weariness that sleep couldn't quench, a yearning for a peace that only her presence could bring.

He rubbed his temples, his mind replaying their last conversation, a fractured mosaic of sharp words and wounded silences.

He had let his pride build a wall between them, and now he was a king in a kingdom of one, his riches the bitter taste of regret.

“Yn, please” he whispered.

The line a desperate prayer to a god he wasn't sure he believed in anymore.

A car's headlights swept across the ceiling, and for a heart-stopping moment, he allowed himself to hope. He pictured her at the door, rain-kissed and hesitant, the space between them finally closing. The image was so vivid, so painfully real, that he could almost feel the warmth of her hand in his. But the light faded, and the room was plunged back into its familiar gloom.

His gaze drifted to his discarded notebook, lying open on the desk. He was drawn to it, a reluctant pull he could no longer resist. His own hurried script met his eyes, lyrics stalling mid-thought. A single, raw line stood out, a testament to his aching regret: To not hold your face or feel embrace, is why I waste... His fingers traced the words, the graphite a faint whisper against his skin.

He knew it was a long shot, a fragile wish cast out into the stormy night. But still, he waited. Because somewhere, buried beneath the wreckage of his mistakes, that unfinished verse was a stubborn ember of hope refusing to be extinguished. It wasn't too late. It couldn't be.

As the rain continued to fall, a pen found the empty space below the last line. He kept his lonely watch, a solitary figure hunched over a flickering promise, trying to write a dawn that might never break.

backstage!

• THE YEARNING💔💔💔 THE PINING💔💔💔

• megumiyn comeback!1!1!1!???? GASP?

• has yn finally came to her senses…. will they finally stop pussyfooting….

• toge doing something right for once in his life? hello?

• toge, yuji & panda definitely fell for the labubu propaganda and spent the bands budget on multiple boxes for the secret

• they didnt get it.

• when yuta found out how much they spent he was pissed (gojo wasnt because he was bribed with a labubu)

• the guy who maki ran into was kamo. & let’s just say he was busted.

• this is all in the same timeline (pretend this chapter wasn’t released 6 months later)

• one last show before they release their album :’) my babies have come so far

a/n: heh.. so who missed me????☺️☺️ was this a jumpscare guys lmk. i had to reread the whole thing bc i forgot what the fuck was happening LOL. maybe i miss my ex and thats why im posting this, maybe i just need to finish the fucking series. next chapter in another 6 months x (kidding…. it’ll be this week..) 3 more chapters guys… who’s nervy… #we’resoback

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @burnishingbagels @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @standcom @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[meowforluv]

so what happens when i start crying? what then?… a week AND THEN bts is truly back <33333

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭June 12, 2025⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭Discharge⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

🐹 12/13/22 - 6/12/24 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐿️ 4/18/23 - 10/17/24 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐨/🐯 12/11/23 - 6/10/25 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐥/🐰 12/12/23 - 6/11/25 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐱 9/22/23 - 6/21/25 : 8 Days until Discharge (98%)

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭Birthday⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

🐰☀️81 🐨🚲92 🐥🌙123 🐹🌝 175 🐯🐻 201 🐿️🌞 251 🐱🏀 270

[meowforluv]

MEOWWWWWWWW

Is Two Really Better Than One?

Summary: in which Nanami's wife gets hit with a curse and he comes home to two wives, not one... Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, threesome, dom!nanami, mention of being used as a sex toy, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, spanking, paizuri, spitting, doggy, dual ride/double cowgirl position, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, slight size kink, slight yuri action, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, totally inaccurate use of the curse science or whatever, not proofread - like literally not at all sowwy Word Count: 4.5k

Nanami is flabbergasted. 

When he came back home after a long hard day’s work, he was impatiently waiting for his wife’s loving embrace and reviving kiss. There’s a routine you two follow and he upholds it like a knight pledging allegiance to the crown – arrive home at 6pm, you greet him, he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes whilst you prepare dinner, and then you dine together. He expected you to be at the front door with an excited grin and open arms, just as you did yesterday and the day before that.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was two wives waiting for him. 

“Ken! Make her go away,” you scream. 

The other you snarls, “No, you go away.”

Apparently, you’ve been hit by a spirit splitting curse – it fragmented your soul into perfect halves. There is no ‘original wife,’ just two different parts of the same woman he loves. At least, that was how Shoko explained it on the phone. How long the effects will last is indeterminable, though Nanami’s simply glad it’s a harmless consequence and not something more disastrous.

“I want her ugly ass gone, Kento,” you growl.

And other you shrieks. “Excuse me? I am literally you. If I’m ugly, so are you, idiot.”

“Yeah? Well, somehow, I’m just prettier, so suck it.”

Sitting in the living room, he loosens his tie and stares up at the ceiling. He supposes it really was just too much to ask to have peace and quiet in his life, to be able to catch up on some rest and sleep, and have dinner with his wife, his only wife. Right now, the two of you are smacking throw pillows at each other’s faces, exchanging limp blows over his body, and insulting one another.

This animosity is unfounded. She is you and you are her. You are both his wife, with the exact same body, personality, past, hopes and dreams. And yet you’re at each other’s throats like there is a long feud between your warring families. Nanami sighs again. “Please, stop fighting. Let’s just get on with our evening and wait for the effects to subside.”

Both of you press close to him, taking a side each. You cling to his arm, cradling his bicep between your breasts, seeping warmth into his skin through his work shirt. Nanami clears his throat. You smell nice – always do – but right now, the scent of you is engulfing him from all sides. Other you pokes his chest. 

With an accusatory tone, you question, “Why aren’t you pushing her away, Kento?”

He leaves a kiss on your head, hoping to soothe your irritation. “I could never push away my wife, darling. I’d sooner die.”

“But I’m your wife.”

“No, I’m his wife.”

Nanami wraps his arms around the both of you, rubbing comforting circles on your backs; if he doesn’t do something, he might just come out of this with no wife. “You are both my wives. Just as beautiful as the other and just as ferocious. So, there’s no need to fight, alright?”

“Oh my god, what if we’re stuck like this forever? I can’t share you, Ken! I won’t. And! What if you start to like her more than me? I’ll kill myself.”

Gaze softening, he holds you tight. “That won’t happen, my love. It just wouldn’t. I’m confident things will go back to normal soon enough and you’ll be whole again. That’s our biggest concern, not ‘who will I prefer.’ That’s a silly thought; I love you in all the possible shapes and forms you come in. I could never choose just one side of you to love, it’s simply impossible.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“He is such a sweet talker, isn’t he?” You ask yourself.

You reply with a chortle. “The absolute sweetest. Thank god we put up with his grumpy ass before he fell for us.”

His heart swells. To watch you two get along fills him with so much pride and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s because he loves your smile, the way your cheeks get so plump with the force of it. Maybe it’s because he knows how long you’ve struggled to reconcile with the need to love yourself, truly, and how you find it torturous to confront yourself and see all those flaws he thinks creates your perfect soul. 

Maybe it’s simply because he loves you so much; there’s no need to question it.

“Ugh, get your hands off my husband!”

“No, you get your hands off my husband.”

And Nanami sighs again.

On and off, you two keep bickering, momentarily being quieted by his hushed commands to behave before starting up again shortly after. Slowly losing the will to fight, he accepts his indefinite reality. His house might never know peace again and he might never truly clock off work even once he returns home. It seems, outside of the office, he also has to manage stubborn individuals and rising tension. 

Still, it’s not so bad, he thinks. Having two of you is a blessing; he’s always encouraging you to eat more with the rationale of wanting more of you to love, after all.

But, his reasoning at this moment isn’t so pure.

The feeling of your plush bodies in his grasp is distracting. Two sets of your breasts are bouncing against his sides and in his face with every move you both make. Hands rove all over his body, staking their claim, and teasing the skin underneath his clothes. Nails scrape against his thighs, digging in when you try to control your anger, using him as the punching bag. He needs to keep his cool, to maintain control so he can ease your worries and dispel trouble at any time. But damn it if it isn’t taking a lot of effort to stand his ground. 

“Ken,” one of you whispers in his ear, lips brushing the shell, “you’re hard…”

Looking down, he comes face to face with solid evidence of your observation. How embarrassing – his wife was hurt and is facing an indubitably anxiety-provoking situation whereby she might never recover as whole from again, and despite that, he’s aroused. What kind of man is he?

What kind of terrible husband would be so self-centred?

“We can help… if you’d like.”

The kind that’d be married to you, apparently. 

Speechless, Nanami can do nothing but sit back and let his wife unbuckle his belt whilst the other unzips his trousers. One has a look of complete glee when she finds his hard cock already leaking and the other sports a focused expression, working her hand up and down his length. You really are his wife, split or not. No one could ever touch him so seductively, so enticingly, already threatening to shake his entire foundation with simple grazes. 

He should stop you both, should establish boundaries and get on with dinner. Instead of giving into baser instincts, he should lead by example and ensure your safety and wellbeing by being patient. But…how can he when your velvety palms play with his balls, fascinated by the weight of them?

“Come here, sweetheart,” he mutters, losing all grip on reason. He discards his glasses. “Come give Kento a kiss.” 

Two heads rush to his face. They collide with a bang. Hissing, you throw aggravated looks at each other. “He meant me.”

“Uh, no, he meant me.”

Tutting, he cradles both of your faces and brings one up to his lips. He lays a kiss where you bumped your head and then another to your mouth. Slowly and gently, he indulges in your taste, swallowing your breathy moans and teasing your tongue with his. Then, parting ways, he pushes your head down, eager to feel those juicy lips wrap around his throbbing cock. 

He meets your gaze. “You too, love.”

Mirroring the ministrations, he loses himself in the steamy kiss, groaning into your mouth when the you that’s licking his cock from the base to the very tip slides her wet tongue on the slit. Fuck, he needs more. He needs to feel you. 

A hand of his slides down your body, groping a breast, tweaking the nipple, before it ventures further down to between your legs. You’re soaked. Pussy lips swollen, he wastes no time in working two calloused digits inside. Wet, tight, and hot, he can’t get enough of how your cunt clenches around him. 

“Ah, Ken! So good. Thank you!”

The wife that’s drooling on his balls pouts. “Me too, Ken. Make me feel good too, please.”

He smiles. “My sweet wives, always so polite. Tilt your hips this way, darling, show me your pretty pussy. That’s it. And you, sweetheart, let me kiss your beautiful breasts.”

Now, both of his hands are being thoroughly coated in your wetness, squelching their way inside your pulsing canals. Mouth full of your breast, sucking and flicking your hard nipple, he lets himself be consumed by your scent, your warmth, your softness, and the wondrous sounds of your barely subdued whimpers and squeals. 

Being weighed down by your body, the reminder of your love and need for him, of which reflects his own for you, is the purest form of bliss he never would have thought he was deserving of. There is nothing more rewarding than drawing out your pleasure, than curling his fingers in just right against that gummy spot inside you that pushes out even more sloppy juices, and washing away your fears and worries. 

In this moment, as both of your hips are grinding down onto his hands, he wishes there was another of him. He can meet all your needs at once, overwhelm you with his body and drive you crazy. Then, there’d be no need to be jealous or possessive. Though…Nanami has a dark realisation that perhaps the sight of a cock that isn’t really his pushing its way inside your body would drive him to madness and not the pleasurable kind.

“Fuck, Ken! I’m gonna–”

“Cum!”

You orgasm at the same time as your other half, juices flying and soaking the sofa underneath your bodies. Speckles land on his creased trousers, drowning his hands and dribbling juices down his wrists. Nanami throbs, cock jolting in the cold air.

Slumped over his body, one of your heads perks up. “Hey, uglier me, wanna give him a boob job together?”

“I’m ignoring that insult, bitch, but yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes and then land a peck on Nanami’s cheek, giving him a wink.

Getting down onto your knees, you force his legs to spread wide to accommodate yourselves. A little frazzled at seeing you two collude and leave him out of the decision making process, no word of complaint can manifest before he throws his head back, unable to stand the sight of impish joy all over your irresistible eyes doubled as you watch his cock bob once and twice. 

“Ugh, isn’t his dick so pretty?”

The kitten licks you leave on his frenulum are your answer. Then, you both wrap your breasts around his cock, nipples kissing each other and his sharp intake of breath elicits giggles. Up and down, you rub his heated length with your supple breasts. His fingers thread through your hair, unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Is it good, Ken? Do you like it?”

Nanami groans. “Y-yes, it feels amazing, sweetheart. You’re so good to me…always so good to your husband, aren’t you?”

Giggling again, you two exchange grins, feeling mighty proud of yourself, he supposes. And he knows he can cum just like this, that his cum will spurt all over your faces and breasts. It’ll coat your plump lips and you’ll be able to taste his salty spend. Lightheaded, he gasps for air, intent to get his bearings, to not let you two have your way with him, but then you surprise him one more time. 

Lips locked, you two make a big show of moaning into each other’s mouths, tongue twisting together in an obscene display that has his heart thumping faster and faster until he’s sure he’s losing his mind. 

You might never stop surprising him no matter how long he’s loved you. 

He can’t take it anymore. The smell of your sweetness, the evidence of your euphoria coating his skin, the doughy blanket of your breasts around his cock is driving him insane. He needs you and he needs you now. In agile haste, he stands and takes his clothes off all while you both watch. 

“I-I need to be inside you, darlings.” There isn’t enough space on the sofa for what he wants. So, with a grunt, he lifts you two and carries your bodies up, biting back a smile when you squeal and giggle, into the bedroom. You both bounce into each other’s embrace when he drops you off on the mattress. “Strip.”

Clumsily, you remove every article of clothing. Your arms get caught in your shirt and your panties get tangled around your ankles. “Ugh, Ken, help.”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He helps you two out, wrangling your clothes off. “There we go, honey. Upsi-daisy.”

Though he might never admit how pleased he gets when he’s needed, he’s sure you know. There’s no way you don’t. You feel the evidence of it when he pins you to the kitchen counter to fetch the plate you’re reaching for and you surely see the way his eyes darken as you place a foot on his lap, wordlessly asking him to clasp your heels on for you.

As soon as your clothes are off, he pounces – sloppily swallowing your wet moans, he devours you and then the other you, swapping and switching till he gets frustrated and gasps for air. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much. All of you. In every life, in every time. Always.” You’re lying so prettily for him. Whatever he has done to deserve you today, he hopes he’ll do it again and again so he may never part from you, not even in death. His hands don’t know where to stay, exploring, groping and squeezing and pinching wherever they please. There’s so much of you he wants to feel at once and it’s like an urge he can’t fight. The need to be with you, to please you, to immerse himself in your essence wholeheartedly is choking him up, calling forth tears in his eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself from my eyes.”

“Ken, I love when you get all emotional, I swear, but please just fuck me already.”

He gulps. “Yes, love. I will.”

“No, wait, fuck me first.”

“Wait your fricking turn, oh my god.”

Another fight breaks out. 

Nails are out, hands are flying, hair is being pulled. Kento huffs. He’s trying to get in between you two without using force, without accidentally hurting you, and just as he’s about to pull you apart, a resounding SLAP!echoes. It’s a grating noise that steals his breath. In a flash, he’s got you behind him and you pinned to the bed. 

“No.” Nanami growls. Breathing hard, he shakes off the sudden anger coursing through his veins. Wide eyed, you just watch him release his punishing hold on your neck that he didn’t even realise he had on you. The scolding fire in him doesn't disappear. “No one hurts my wife. Not even you. Understand?”

You nod frantically. 

“Good. You know I hate to punish you but you won’t disagree when I say you need to be reminded of the rules, would you?” You shake your head. “Use your big girl words.”

“I need to be punished, Ken. I need to be reminded of the rules.”

Satisfied, he leans back on his haunches and beckons the other you to his front. There’s a mark on your cheek and it makes his chest squeeze painfully. “Oh, look what you’ve done to your pretty face. My darling wife and her penchant for violence. You’re going to give me more grey hairs.”

“I hope so; you’ll be a silver fox. Yum.”   

A fruitless frustration builds inside – it’s akin to that cuteness aggression you claim overcomes you often, he thinks. Well, he won’t deny himself any longer. He tugs your neck and kisses you. It’s rough, it’s messy, it’s sloppy. And he does it all while keeping his eyes on the you that’s in near tears. “Why don’t you -hah- show my wife how to be a good girl? Show her the reward you deserve.”

“Okay, Ken.”

Leaning back into his firm, sturdy body, you hiss as the threatening stretch of his fat cockhead pushes through the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. Slowly but surely, he’s worming his way into your pulsing cunt. Nanami grunts when he finally bottoms out, balls constricting with the labour of keeping his cum in his balls and not in your pussy prematurely. This is all far too much for him. To be thrusting into you, holding you upright by your arms as you watch his cock shine with your juices, is an insane fantasy he never even dreamed of, but it is his reality and he damn sure will make the most of it. 

“Ngh, tell my wife h-how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

Breathless, you try to talk despite the delirium-inducing pleasure he’s ramming into your tight cunt. “G-good. I feel good. Ken’s so big a-and I’m feeling so full. Fuck, Ken, fuck me harder.”

The sound of skin slapping, the squelching of your pussy, and the heady moans and grunts are all going straight to his head. Overstimulated, he clutches your breast for a tether, grounded by the weight and the softness. His pace quickens. “Like this? Hmm? You like this, darling?”

“Yes, Ken! Fuck, I’m close. More, Kento. Fuck me more.”

Over your shoulder, he watches you writhe and squirm on the bed, a hand squeezing your breast the way he is and fingers pumping inside your needy cunt at the pace his cock is working its way into your other half. Impatient, you whine. “Hurry, Ken. I want your cock too.”

He licks his lip. Sweaty, eyesight ever so slightly blurry, and growing closer and closer to his climax, urged on by the tight pulsing of your pussy, he continues thrusting inside. “Behave. Can’t you see I’m -ah, fuck- p-pleasuring my wife? Bad girls don’t get to touch, do they? They don’t get to have their cake. And. Eat. It. Ngh. Too!”

To highlight his point, he lets you slip through his grasp. You fall on top of yourself, bouncing breasts pressed tightly against each other. Your face is buried into the crook of your neck, uncaring about how loud your moans are. Nanami finds purchase against your slippery ass and holds it still as he fucks his cock into you, using you as a glorified cock sleeve. 

“Give me something. Anything, Ken. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Nanami grunts. “Open up.”

A fat drop of his spit lands with a plop onto your awaiting tongue. You gulp it down eagerly. Your fingers work themselves inside your cunt even faster, unperturbed by the weight of yourself pinning you to the bed, sweaty and shaking. Dare your husband say, you rather like it. His cock pulses.

“Soon, honey. Just be patient, a-alright? And then I’ll -hah- fill you up. Just have to -ngh- make my wife cum first.” 

Expert hips grind into your tight pussy, cockhead hissing your g-spot and stretching out your gooey walls again and again. If he had it his way, he’d never leave your cunt, but he has a responsibility to make you both cum. He can’t be selfish.

“Ugh, hurry up, you whore,” you mutter into your ear. Then, he sees your mischievous hand trail down your other’s spine until it descends between your legs. When the moans get louder and the clenching of your pussy steals Nanami’s breath, he can only assume you’ve taken matters into your own hands.

You cum around his cock with a scream. 

Hips stuttering, his orgasm soon follows. “Ah, f-fuck! So tight. So fucking good.”

His choked groans are all that can be heard as you lay limp. He too falls to the bed, lying beside your bodies. That had to have been one of the strongest orgasms he had ever had. Never a dull day with you. Just when he thinks he’s got you all figured out, you prove him wrong. What a privilege it is to learn all about you every day for the rest of his life.

“Hey, my turn!”

Brushing back his blond locks, he chuckles to himself as he watches his cock throb back to life. It seems his body has adapted to be sure he can attend to his wife’s needs. Both of them. “Get up here, sweetheart. Take what you want.”

Excited, you shove your other half off and rush to straddle your husband’s hips. You don’t wait; his cock slides inside with ease from your juices. “Oh, god, yessss. Fuck, Ken, I can feel you in my lungs.”

Bracing himself by holding onto your thighs, he can do nothing else against the desperate bouncing of your ass. The pleats inside of your perfect pussy are attempting to wring him dry all over again and Nanami’s abs flex with the building pressure. His cock is still recovering and it’s sensitive but you don’t care. Now, he’s the one being used like a mere toy. 

“S-slow down, honey.” He hisses. “Hah, slow -hngh!- d-down.”

“Hmm, shit, Kento. Y-you’ve gotten so big…” Ignoring his pleas, you must be referring to the layer of fat that’s grown on his body, thanks to the delicious food you’ve been cooking for him. Wholly embracing married life by skipping visits to the gym in lieu of staying longer in bed with you, he’s realised that his clothes no longer fit as they did. It’s embarrassing for a man who prided himself in being fit and put together but it gets you so wet and so needy, he doesn’t dare change a thing. “I want to -ah ah ah fuuuuck- drown in you.”

His chuckle is punctuated by the grunts that your incessant bouncing is forcing out of him. “If it’ll make you happy, my love.”

You clench down. 

“Ah, don’t -oh fuck- squeeze so tight.” He reaches for your clit, thumbing at it. You yelp, hips bouncing faster. Looking so absolutely beautiful, he can’t keep his eyes off the recoiling breasts in his line of vision. Suddenly, his mouth is suffocated with something hot, wet, and delicious. “Hmmph!”

You’ve sat on his face, leaning forward on his stomach, clearly keen to be involved once more in the fun. Submerged in your scent and taste, he doesn’t hesitate to slurrrrrrp! up your juices. He can taste his cum too and it dribbles down his chin. Cunt wrapped around his cock and another leaking wetness right into his mouth, Nanami swears he’s in heaven, delirious with the devastating gratification of pleasuring his wife. “Ride me faster…my face…my cock…that’s it, dear…doing so -ngh- great for me…my -hah hah- perfect wife.”

Lapping up your juices, he throbs when you squeal on his tongue.

“Is that how I really sound when you eat me out? Ew.”

Other you growls. “And is that what I really look like when I ride you?”

SMACK!

SMACK!

“Don’t t-talk badly about yourself. I won’t have it.”

Rubbing your sore ass, you mumble, “Mmm, sorry, Ken.”

“Yeah, s-sorry.”

Soon, you three work back into a punishing rhythm. Nanami hates to be so strict, but he can’t bear to hear you be so mean to yourself. It makes the hairs on his arms stand. If his eyes aren’t rolling to the back of his head, he’d lecture you about the importance of loving yourself. Again. But he can’t string full sentences together. Not right now. Now when you’re all so close. 

Your clit is bumping against his nose whilst his tongue pierces your cunt and he wonders if you can both feel the specific kind of bliss the other is – a cock kissing your g-spot, filling you up, and your pussy being thoroughly ravished by his greedy mouth. 

“Yes, Ken, suck my clit…hmm, just like that… yes yes yessss.”

“Fuck, Ken, your cock feels so good. I love it! More more more. I need it.”

Whatever his wife wants, he’ll oblige. Planting his feet, he fucks up into you, jostling your body. You shriek. His pace is relentless, merciless, and they push you further and further until your climax nears. Off balance, your face falls in between other you’s breasts. Whatever you’re doing to those tits he loves so much is making his wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head too. 

Nanami’s nearing his end. He needs you to get there first. Always. “Come on, sweetheart. Make me –ah make Kento– proud, won’t you? Let me h-hear, feel a-and taste my darling wife -hah- cum.”

“Yes, Ken!” You both screech.

And soon after, your husband finds himself covered in a flood of your juices. 

“FUCK!” 

“SHIT!”

“OH GOD!”

Nails dig into his skin, scratching and stinging. The grip you have on his cock tightens until he’s robbed of his breath and forced over, hips pumping up into your scalding cunt. Your moans are muffled between your breasts when his searing cum paints your walls white. 

Clinging to each other, the three of you black out. 

Minutes or hours later, Nanami is the first to wake. Finally, the sight that greets him is not anomalous or extraordinary – it’s just his wife, singular and whole, draped naked across his lap and snoring. He’s trying to catch his breath, staring down at your sleeping form. “I’ve -hah- tired you out, huh? Poor thing.”

Just as he wanted, he’s covered in sweat and your juices, owned by you in every way possible. This is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life if he could: attending to your needs and drawing out a smile even in your sleep. He pets your head, a shaky smile on his lips. Your eyes flutter open. 

“There’s my beautiful wife. Hi. I’ve missed you, darling.”

Groggily, you ask, “Am I fixed now, Kenny?”

Bringing up your face to his, he skims his nose against the tip of yours. “You were never broken to begin with, my love.”

“That’s sweet…can we go eat now? I’m hungry.”

Petting your pussy and seeking out your heat as if his fingers are magnetised to it, he whispers against your lips, “You can take one more round, can’t you, honey? For me? For Kento?”

You both know it won’t stop at just one round. 

It never does. 

And thank fuck.

[meowforluv]

OWWWWW

Alien au mini comic 🖤🤍

I did the concepts for geto and gojo a while back, u can see them here 😄

[meowforluv]

oh this got me sobbing a lil🥲

black swan

in which you were once a girl with dreams and aspirations, before it was swept right from under your feet.

"i love your eyes," he'd said before stealing the light right out of them. 

pairings: law-firm-ceo!gojo x ex-ballerina:pole dancer fem!reader warnings: heavy angst, sexual assault, hints of being video taped while under the influence. brief mentions of stalking, obsession, abuse of drugs, coercion (none of these things are done by gojo, this is NOT a dark gojo fic), ending is kind of a cliffhanger???, reader is kind of emotionless.

NOTEᝰ.ᐟ : writing this was </3, pls enjoy. ballerina pictures edited by me. please watch these tik toks for a visual of readers dancing (she does NOT look a certain way, imagine her as you please) pole dance 1 : pole dance 2 : pole dance 3 : pole dance 4 : pole dance 5 :

FIC PLAYLIST : ♬ˎˊ˗ : my masterlist : navigation

you used to be an ambitious young woman. your previous everyday life was defined by schedules and a plan that was expected to last you for as long as you would have wanted it to. as long as you kept working and pushing towards your goal, nothing could come between you.

at the age of 17 you got into a prestigious school of arts for ballet. you lived and breathed ballet. it was your everlasting passion. whatever happened in a dance studio was between you and your ambitious heart. 

your parents supported you through it all. they funded your practices and everything in-between–from attires to entrance fees for special events.

they were more than proud and excited for you when you shared with them the news of your acceptance. it was like their dream came true through you. your happiness was theirs. 

thankfully the university was not more than 2 hours away from home, so coming and going was as easy as filling in a coloring book. 

weekdays were spent in studios for dance, and regular sit-in classes for your core courses. not that it interested you in the slightest, but you excelled none-the-less. 

whereas weekends were split in between extra studio practices (saturdays) and at home (sundays). some days you had to stay on campus to participate in rehearsals for upcoming showcases, competitions or the events themselves. for these occasions your parents were happy to drive down there to see you. 

never missing the opportunity to see their darling girl.

you were an only child. it’s why your parents always spoiled you. they made sure nothing was missing in your life. it’s why they were behind you in every decision you made, making light of the good and bad.  

3 years as a student and you were at the peak of your dance career. you were constantly booked for the lead roles in ballet recitals, sought out for tips from the lower classmen, praised by your professors, acknowledged constantly by your peers, and offered countless opportunities to advance in your pursuit of your goal. 

it was possibly the happiest you could have been. 

unfortunately, good things don’t last. no matter how much you want them to, or fight against all forces to prolong them.

in your last year as a student, tragedy struck. you met a boy. a boy who would soon ruin everything you worked so hard for. 

a man, who at the snap of his fingers, could demolish every single step you’ve carved out for yourself. 

you met him on your way to class. he had dark black hair with white strands grazing the tips of it. chocolate brown eyes that reflected against the sun. he was tall, some could say handsome, and a charming yet unjarring smile. any girl would fall for him. 

just not you. to you, he was a distraction–an unsettling one at that. 

he had introduced himself to you as naoya zenin (bitchass naoya). a sweet name for the devil in disguise. he never failed to emphasize the last name: zenin. a remarkable yet well-known name. given that it was the same one as the president of the school. 

the declaration itself caused a nasty shiver to run down your spine at the mere thought of it. 

one thing lead to another and he continued to pursue you, in which you continued to politely decline. 

“i’m sorry but i’m not interested in a relationship right now. you’re a great guy, surely there are many girls interested in you.”

“yes, but they're not as great as you.”

it was then that you realized that he wasn’t necessarily interested in you. but rather what you brought to the table, which was ultimately, the status of a talented young woman at her peak. 

men like him want someone they can have around their arm. they want someone that’ll make them look good. someone to be there as an accessory to their greatness. 

unfortunately for you, naoya came to the conclusion that it had to be you. whether you liked it or not. 

no way in hell were you going to let this boy use you this way. so, you didn’t, but he offered an ultimatum. 

“alright then, why don’t we just become friends then?” you had to play it safe with a boy of his status.

you accepted. what was the harm in a friendship, you knew you wouldn’t have time to maintain it anyway. with how busy your schedule was, he’d get bored, lose interested, and leave you alone for good. 

but the zenin’s are insistent, and naoya was no different. 

always at your doorstop. constantly sending you messages, looking to hangout, begging to see you or know your schedule. anything that you knew, he wanted to know. 

so you would leave him on delivered, seen, or just completely decline his advances. 

if he wanted to be your friend, he had to know that this is how it was going to be. and that simply didn’t work for naoya. 

“come on. just one party, and we’ll leave it at that.” 

“fine, but im leaving at 10, i have a dance rehearsal tomorrow morning at 8”, after this you were going to put your foot down and let him go from your life, given that he’d brought nothing but distraction. 

“wonderful” was, sadly, the last thing you remember from that night. you woke up the next day, wearing clothes that weren’t yours, in a room that wasn’t yours, next to someone you most definitely recognized, and a camera pointed in the direction of your sleeping position. 

your heart was in your stomach. you remember the countless notifications on your phone, the one you found tossed haphazardly on the floor of the living room in the unfamiliar apartment. the way your hands trembled like an after effect of a drug that was yet to wear off.  

you quickly and anxiously looked for the remainder of your things. after gathering it all, you zoomed out of the apartment, praying that whatever you may have thought happened at the apartment didn’t. 

a buzz came from the back of your jean pocket, but you ignored it. desperately trying to get to where you needed to be: dance rehearsals. you tried to ignore the weird looks you received while on your way to the studio. 

after arriving, you dashed to the locker room, thankful to your past self for always being overly prepared, having had an extra pair of ballet shoes and practice clothes. 

quickly changing into the clothes you're quietly and quickly slipping into the dance studio, positioning yourself in the back. hoping your instructor does everything but notice your tardiness, but as the top student of the program, your presence goes anything but unnoticed. 

“miss LN,” your professor's voice echoed painfully across the studio and her tone made you stiff, “a word please.”

you felt about 20 sets of eyes turning to look at you. you follow behind your instructor, entering her office stationed beside the massive studio. 

you hear the door shut behind her, yet you remain rooted in your spot in front of her desk. 

“why are you here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. her eyes were nothing but deep pools of emotionless cobalt, and her dark red stained lips do nothing but give her a harsher look. 

you’re a little taken aback by her question, confused to say the least. “excuse me?” you chuckle awkwardly and nervously. 

“we had a dance rehearsal this morning at 8 for the upcoming showcase, didn't we?” you question. 

she purses her lips, “yes we did, but i am afraid that statement no longer includes you.” she says coldly.

you stare at her with wide shocked eyes. “by the look on your face i am quite certain you are not aware. i suggest you check your email.”

she rounds her desk once again, heading for the door, but halting her movements to get her last words in, “and by the time rehearsals are done, i want your locker cleared out, and your access key to the studio left on my desk.” 

the door slams shut behind her. the slam of the door echoes into the deafening silence.

you’re shaking in your seat. what the hell is going on?

remembering you left your phone in your locker—given that the only thing you’re allowed to bring inside the studio is a water bottle. you retrieve your cellphone, and unlock it. 

you tremble a little as you scroll through the endless amount of messages, until you settle on the email sent by the institution. 

Dear Ms. YN LN,

It is with deep regret that we inform you that after careful consideration we have decided to terminate your position as a student at our institution. Effective immediately. 

We also have to acquaint you with the reason for this decision. On May 24 of 2025, we received an anonymous tip accompanied by a link to an adult website. The link featured a public accessed video of you, in which you were identified, and another faceless individual engaging in less than appropriate behaviour. This video was reviewed by a university appointed council to verify your involvement. 

While we respect personal freedoms and the autonomy of our students outside of the classroom, participating in publicly available adult content, undermines the core values of our university.

A permanent notation reading “Dismissed for Conduct Violation” will be placed on your academic transcript. This status may impact future applications for admission, transfer, or professional certification.

We encourage you to take this time to reflect on the importance of personal accountability and the broader implications of public conduct.

Sincerely,

Naobito Zenin Dean of Students  Office of Student Conduct and Academic Integrity Shibuya School of Arts University

now, you’re 25 years old. existing in a bustling city with nothing worth living for. 

after you read the email, your entire world fell apart. you cleared out your things from your dorm and the locker room.

you didn't break the news to your parents. so, you pretended that you were still attending school. your plan was complete school in any way shape or form. but higher education comes with a price. an expensive one at that.

it was difficult. the video blew up and it completely shattered your reputation. not like it was your choice, considering that pieces of that night were foggy to non-existent.

however, things never stay hidden forever: your parents somehow found out about it. so you ran away. back then, you didn't think you could have faced your parents. you still don't think you could. you were a coward.

the only thing that plagued your mind was that the image of their picture perfect-talented daughter was completely tainted.

what would they think of you? how could you face them after everything that happened?

fearful that they'd somehow track you down, you left everything behind. took a bus to the next city over, and stayed with a dear friend of yours: utahime.

utahime worked at a nearby high school as a supervisor. she insisted on helping you find a job, but who would hire you? most definitely not a school.

the only thing you knew to do, was dance. so, you looked up strip clubs looking to hire pole dancers, and came across a decent ad online.

it’s sickening how fast anything can be swept away from beneath you, even as you stand on it. some are lucky to remain standing, while others fall straight on their ass–like you. 

you weren’t supposed to work tonight, but your boss called you, hoping that you’d perform a solo show tonight. he said he’d pay you double your regular pay. something about a big name in the crowd tonight. 

you couldn’t care less. you needed the money. 

you tuned out the rest of the call after the talk about the pay. it was an offer you simply could not refuse. 

even if it meant missing utahime’s monthly gathering dinner. you’d just have to explain to her when you arrived at the apartment later tonight. 

you fix your lip stick in the tiny mirror taped to the door of your locker, making sure it’s perfect. 

you swallow the lump in your throat when you remember how it felt to get ready before a rehearsal, your mom was always there to adjust your hair accessories, but now it’s just you. 

“geez angel, leave some for the rest of us will you?” your coworker beside you jokes. you have moved to adjusting the straps of your tight pink performance bra when she breaks you out of your melancholic day dream. 

angel. the stage name given to you after your audition for this job. something about the way you danced resembled that of a soft angelic ballerina. 

you still remember the way your face slightly dropped at the mention of it. 

you find nothing humorous in her statement, nor her implication. 

the locker room however, finds it quite enlightening, “yeah angel, always stealing all the clients”, the grip on your locker room briefly tightens in an attempt to ground yourself. i don’t mean to, you internalize. 

you’re far from proud about what you do, dancing on stage in front of men makes your skin crawl. it wasn't necessarily about dancing on a pole, but rather who you did it for.

their faces full of lust and dark fantasies make your stomach churn. the look on their faces shows you how their sick minds envision you. the way they’d jump on stage if given the chance.

despite it all, it’s about whatever keeps you dancing. regardless of the audience, this was the only way you could continue your passion. in some sick way, it was the last piece of yourself you could salvage.

your expressions stay neutral, staring blankly at the vacant inside of your locker room. a stark contrast to everyone elses. while they have pictures, sparkles or some sort of personal touch. yours is lifeless and empty. 

you’re starting to feel a little resemblance to it. 

you sigh and close your locker room, body glitter at hand. “sorry,” you mutter, not really knowing what else to say. 

glitter particles stick to your body as you spray it all over yourself. 

“angel you’re up next,” calls the stage manager. years ago, the words would have thrilled you, now they fill a void–a void you try to fill when you pretend you’re doing something else on stage. 

you tighten your mountain high heel straps and make your way over to the stage. 

you shut down your conscious when you take the first step of your heels lands on the stage.

the lights dim and your hand grips the pole. you shut your eyes, and pretend you’re somewhere else dancing ballet. 

a place where the music is something else, and your purpose belongs for your own pleasure. a place where no man could hurt you again. 

the music starts, and you dance. 

2 HOURS AGO

gojo feels sick to his stomach. it’s his 29th birthday and geto thought it was a bright idea to bring him to a strip club. 

“come on loosen up,” he says, patting him down. they’re both still in their expensively tailored work suits. fresh out of a boring birthday dinner with the higher ups. 

gojo shoves geto away, “how can i loosen up when we’re here?” he bites back, “at a fucking strip club,” he says in disgust. 

geto gives him a look, “hey”, he warns him with a level headed look, “don’t be such a dick, i know you’re just being an asshole because of how pent up you’ve been with work.” 

gojo stares at him with an unimpressed stare. any other day he’d be more than happy to just be anywhere in the city doing anything that wasn’t work related. 

however, the mountain of piled up work cases he has to look over sit—not only physically, but mentally—as a constant burden. 

he’s been needed at work more than usual. all thanks to his grandfather who had stepped down as the CEO of Gojo Law Co., and stood up as the chairman. he had handed down the business to gojo less than a month ago. 

with absolutely no heads up. anyone can imagine how stressed he is. 

thankfully, geto was promoted to president. 

given how powerful they were as a duo in the courtroom, one can only imagine how great they’d do managing an entire firm.

geto sighs before looking at gojo, “listen i get it, you want to live up to his standards, but you can’t do it with a stick up your ass. so stop moping around and try and get your dick wet once in a while. you didn’t seem to have a problem doing it in college.”

he slings his arm around gojo’s shoulders and drags him into the strip club. 

thankfully, gojo doesn’t put up much of a fight. 

-

a whiff of cigarettes hits gojo’s sensitive nose immediately. 

the place seems well kept, better than most he’s seen in the past. security seems tight and well established, given the big bulky men stationed in different parts of the club. the music is loud and the lights are dimmed down, and different colors dim in and out. 

it’s quite a massive place. it’s spacious now but he knows that during rush hour it’s incredibly packed. he can tell that whatever they have going here, sells well and is provided on an expensive silver platter.  

there’s women walking around in tight revealing waitress costumes, holding bottles or serving platters with perfectly decorated beverages. their walks are elegant as they stride in their towering high heels. 

their smiles are bright, and certain. one could mistake them for genuine happiness. 

there’s small table dancing poles scattered around the place accompanied by comfortable booths surrounding them, but what captures his attention the most is the empty massive stage positioned towards the far end of the club covered by heavy curtains. 

the lights are completely turned off for that section of the club, but the timer displaced at the top of the curtains gives him something to anticipate. a timer that piques his interest.

he nudges geto in the midst of their journey to the bar. he tilts his chin in the direction of the stage, "what's that?” he makes an educated guess that it’s why his best friend brought him here in the first place. 

geto looks over to the direction he gestured to, and grins, “that,” he points, “is the countdown for the main event tonight. it’s actually why i brought you here.” he confessed, confirming gojo’s initial suspicion. 

gojo continues to stare at the stage. before geto interrupts him with a gentle shove towards the bar. 

two drinks in hand later, they slither their way through the crowd and to the front row. where their vip section awaits them. 

geto nods at the security surrounding their booth, and they move to create a path in the direction of their seats. 

once they’re seated and comfortable the lights dim further, leaving the club almost pitch black. aside from the lights directly above the stage. almost like it’s putting whoever will dance in their own bubble. 

gojo watches intently as the curtains open, and there stands a woman. 

you grip the pole, but your eyes remain gently shut. your pose is enticing, the music is yet to start, but you’re already setting the tone. 

gojo's mouth gapes open a tiny bit when your head rolls back, and the hair previously covering you exposes your neck. 

when your head returns forward again your eyes are open, but they hold an unreadable emotion, almost as if you were on autopilot. 

you’re nothing short of stunning. a woman with a face like yours could entice anyone. gojo was no exception. 

gojo studies you intently. from the clothes you wear, to the look on your face. the transparent slip on dress makes you look like a model on the cover of a lingerie magazine. beneath it you wear lingerie. 

the lighting of the stage defines your face in a manner that sharpens your already defined features. with the slow movement of the lights, they catch the sparkles scattered around your revealed body. 

it almost drives him insane how breathtaking you are. 

almost. but he knows what this is. it’s your job to make him feel this way. he doesn’t want to say it’s in your nature to evoke these feelings but something in the back of his mind nags at him that it’s far too easy for you to kindle these feelings in any man. 

he’s confused. 

gojo has had more than his fair share of sexual encounters. and he means more than fair. but he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone of your caliber, and he’s only looking at your face. 

there's cheers, and an ‘oh yeah baby!’ shouted from the crowd. a few whistles are scattered around too. 

gojo can’t find it in himself to do the same. despite the incredible pull he currently feels towards you all he can do is lean forward from his seat, inching his way to the edge of it. all he can do is gape at you. 

the slow sensual tune of a song begins, and you spin around the pole. your moves are elegant, fluid, and slow. it’s like you’re floating. there’s a certain gentle yet precise form in which you move. 

almost that of a ballerina, he notes. he doesn’t know why, but it hurts to watch you up there. 

his eyes desperately try to remain staring into yours, but occasionally a strands of hair will settle on your face, shielding you from the audience. 

your eyes are glazed over. 

despite your obvious attractiveness, he feels far from aroused. 

you spin on the pole before descending onto the floor, you’re now laying on the floor. within gojo’s reach. but he has no desire to invade your space. you’re in your element. 

your back arches, like the invisible string tied to your heart has been pulled. seconds later you’re back on the pole, moving again. 

gojo’s completely entranced by you. sucked into your world, but he can’t envision what you’re seeing in your head. he can’t understand it. all he can see is a shell of you. 

when your performance finishes, he’s left with a tiny gaping hole in his heart. 

one he’d like to expand by getting to know you. 

even if it means coming here every night to see you.

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 . join my tag list : ⟢ join my girlypop disc: link ‹𝟹

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©2025 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.

[meowforluv]

17 OH MY SHAIAOHSAIJA

💜Countdown for the boys to come back💜

Seokjin has been back for: 346 days

Hoseok has been back for: 219 days

Yoongi: 28 days

Namjoon: 17 days

Taehyung: 17 days

Jimin: 18 days

Jeongguk: 18 days

[meowforluv]

sorry im freaking out wdym only 17 days before taejoon is back…and then jikook… then yoongi… im totally okay

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭May 23, 2025⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭Discharge⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

🐹 12/13/22 - 6/12/24 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐿️ 4/18/23 - 10/17/24 : Discharged! (100%) ✅

🐨/🐯 12/11/23 - 6/10/25 : 17 Days until Discharge (96%)

🐥/🐰 12/12/23 - 6/11/25 : 18 Days until Discharge (96%)

🐱 9/22/23 - 6/21/25 : 28 Days until Discharge (95%)

⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭Birthday⟬💛⟭⟬💜 ⟭⟬💛 ⟭⟬

🐰☀️101 🐨🚲112 🐥🌙143 🐹🌝 195 🐯🐻 221

[meowforluv]

29 DAYSSSS OH MY GODDDDDD

💜Countdown for the boys to come back💜

Seokjin has been back for: 334 days

Hoseok has been back for: 207 days

Yoongi: 40 days

Namjoon: 29 days

Taehyung: 29 days

Jimin: 30 days

Jeongguk: 30 days

[meowforluv]

NANAMI MY BELOVED

COME HOME THE KIDS MISS U (i say reading a gojo fic)

anyways oh gojo loves her baddddd

like hes ACTUALLY lovesick

ALSO CAN I JUST SAY

i liked how u wrote the violence?? if thats the right way to say it??

told me that its getting serious now yk? that we gotta lock in🙂‍↕️

im extremely excited for what you post next for this series omggg

take you time babes, we will be waiting patiently ^-^

.ೃ࿐ motherhood and matrimony I ch 10 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies (annoyances) to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, marriage of convenience, slow burn, smut, fluff, some angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, triggers of prior domestic abuse » 【NOTE FOR THIS CHAPTER - violence. minor character death. blood and brutality. prior trauma. explicit sexual context: handjob, blowjob, face fucking, swallowing, praise, desperate, needy satoru. he's literally so in love with you.

ꨄ words: 14.9k

ꨄ a/n. hi hi!! it's been a while. i'm excited to share this ch with youuu 🥹 !! please caution !! - there IS violence, read my tags bbs. oh man, here we go... the yakuza don't fuck around ya'll. also, welcome nanami!! see you at the bottom. ♡ (art by 3aem )

ꨄ taglist: open (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter → pending

ch 10 // ruin and reverence

Blood and money.

Two currencies of power.

One, pooling thick and dark, seeping into the cracks of the aged wooden floor. The other, crisp and clean, slipping effortlessly through Mei-Mei’s manicured fingers. The Zenins have always understood both intimately—one is used to buy power, the other to maintain it.

Tonight though, only one is being spent.

The sickening crack of brass knuckles against bone splits the air, followed by a wet, choking cough. The man kneeling before Toji jerks forward, lungs fighting for air they don’t have room for. His arms are bound behind his back, wrists cinched so tight his fingers have gone blue.

And his face?

Well, not much left of it now. One eye swollen shut—the other, barely tethered to consciousness.

He isn’t alone—two others lie slumped beside him, bodies twisted in the way only pain can shape—blood pooling beneath them like spilled ink. Toji hasn’t glanced at them since they dropped. They’d served their purpose.

This one, though? Still breathing.

The room is dim and airless, the kind that holds onto heat and old violence. A flickering overhead bulb swings gently above, casting shadows that crawl across the walls with every shift of movement. The smell of sweat, blood, and something metallic lingers—heavy, but familiar.

This isn’t a room meant for conversation.

It’s a room meant for remembering your place.

“P-please,” then man rasps, wheezing. “I—I told you everything, I swear—”

His knees scrape the floor as he bows, forehead nearly touching Toji’s boot. Shame, surrender, desperation—it’s all there, thick in the air like humidity before a storm.

But Toji doesn’t blink. He just watches. Shoulders rolling, fingers flexing. The brass glints under the low light. His head tilts slightly—calculating.

“Mm… that so?”

“Yes-yes,” the man nods desperately, breath hitching. “I swear. Please, I swear.”

Toji’s lips curl slightly, not in amusement, but in something far less kind, and with no warning, he fists a hand into the man’s blood-matted hair, yanking his head back like a drawn bow.

“Wait—p-please!” the man jerks, his good eye wide with panic, spine pulled tight.

Arching a brow, Toji observes him like a purchase that didn’t hold up.

“You were in his house,” he states simply.

“Y-yes,” a frantic nod. “I—I was—”

Toji hums. “Breathing his air...”

The man nods again, breath shuddering with a quiet sob, his shoulders convulsing involuntary.

“Walking his floors...”

Another nod, another breathless sob.

Toji clicks his tongue, pondering. “…makes you valuable, doesn’t it?”

And there it is. That flicker.

Hope.

Thin as thread.

Pathetic, really.

Toji lets it bloom, just long enough to see it shine in the man’s good eye—let him believe. Then, leaning in, his voice drops to a murmur.

“So why?” he asks, almost curious. “Why do you still look so fucking useless to me?”

There’s no time to answer. The man crumples, folding in on himself as Toji’s fist drives into his ribs—sharp, direct. A wet crunch. Then, without so much of a glance, Toji steps over his body without looking down. It’s just dead weight on the floor. The others had figured it out too—right before the end.

They’d begged.

It hadn’t mattered.

With a slow exhale, he approaches the table, where Mei sits, thumbing through yen with that same detached grace. She doesn’t glance up as he reaches for the glass of sake beside her. But as Toji brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip, he catches movement in his peripheral, and behind him, the grunt coughs—wet and raw.

…he’s still trying?

With a tilt of his head, he turns, watching the man drag himself forward through blood and spit. Ugh… it’s always the ones who stay conscious that think they’ve earned something.

“He’s still breathing,” Mei hums, unmoved. Her eyes stay on the cash, more interested in the spoils than the suffering that paid for them. “That’s a bit generous, Toji.”

“Yeah yeah…” he takes a swig of sake, exhaling, “…not for long.”

Suddenly, the door creaks, and Naoya strolls through its opening. Smooth strides, like it’s just another business report. Golden eyes scan the room, moving from the bodies on the floor to the blood smeared across the boards, then to the one poor bastard still crawling like it might matter.

Huh. Nothing unusual.

“Yo,” his hands shove into his pockets, tilting his head with a smirk. “You’re working late.”

Lifting her chin, a smirk plays at Mei’s lips like the edge of a knife.

“Evening, Naoya.”

He returns the gesture with a lazy tilt of his head, but his attention shifts almost immediately to the table—to the scattered aftermath of whatever poor bastard had made the wrong move tonight.

Gold chains. Scattered bills. Watches stripped from the wrists of men who thought they had more time.

Spoils of failure.

“Having fun?”

Reaching for the next stack, Mei hums.

“More than them.”

Naoya drops into the chair beside her, kicking his feet up like this is a poker night and not a graveyard.

“Well, well,” he exhales, gaze cutting toward Toji. “If I knew it was open season, I’d’ve brought popcorn.”

Lifting his sake, Toji watches it swirl in the glass. He doesn’t spare Naoya a look. Doesn’t say a word.

Naoya waits.

And waits.

And… waits?                    

Eventually, Toji sets the glass down with a soft clink, rolling his shoulders, exhaling. Then, he turns back toward the crawling man—who’s made it, maybe, four inches from where he started.

The fuck?

Naoya frowns slightly, eyes narrowing.

“Psh... not even a hello?” he scoffs, shifting in his chair like he’s brushing off the tension. “Cold, even for you.”

Still no answer.

Just the dull sound of Toji’s boots against the floorboards as he closes the space again.

Then—

A punch.

Then another.

And another.

Each one lands with a dull, final force, like closing a door that shouldn’t have been opened. Bone crunching. Flesh splitting beneath steel-plated knuckles.

As Naoya watches, a subtle unease creeps in—threading through his amusement like a hairline crack in polished glass.

“You’re in a mood…” he offers lightly, rocking his boot idly against the edge of the table.

Toji’s fist drives into the man’s ribs, followed by a wet, wheezing gasp.

“Am I?”

It’s almost conversational.

Almost.

Another hit follows. Harder. Meaner. And Naoya exhales, stretching out in his chair like he’s not watching someone die.

“Yup… quieter than usual,” he muses, clicking his tongue. “Bad news? Or just bad company?”

Toji hauls the man upright, his body sagging like it’s already given up.

“…both.”

Naoya hums, like he’s got a fix for that.

“Well… maybe I can help with that. Got something on Gojo today.”

At that, Toji’s grip loosens—the man dropping to the floor with a heavy thud, and Naoya perks up. Encouraged, like a dog who thinks it’s being tossed a bone.

“Heh… thought you’d appreciate it,” he leans back, legs stretching further, “y’see… I took a little… initiative.” He says it like he wants a fucking gold star. “Dropped by Gojo’s place. Figured I’d get ahead of things.”

Toji’s back stays turned, but he tilts his head, barely—just enough to feed Naoya’s ego. Mei raises a brow, knowing better.

“Gotta say… his security wasn’t much,” Naoya goes on, waving a hand lazily. “Paid them off. Walked right in,” he pauses, his smirk stretching. “Got into his office and poked around. Grabbed a few files… contracts, statements… stuff that’ll sting once we’re in court.”

Toji nods. Slow. Thoughtful.

Too thoughtful.

“That so?”

Naoya’s grin grows—he can’t help himself. “Yup. Even got photos of everything. There was a safe I didn’t crack, but we can go back. Who knows what kind of dirt’s buried in there?”

Toji hums low in his throat. Like he’s thinking. But he’s not.

Why? Because he already knows.

Without warning, his fist swings again—one final, devastating blow. The man’s body jerks violently. Then stills. Toji grabs him by the collar again, lifting him halfway—checking.

But there’s nothing. No breath. No twitch.

Dead.

Behind him, Naoya’s smirking like an idiot.

“Damn. Poor bastard…” he says, half-laughing. “Can barely even tell he had a face.”

“Huh… you’re right,” Toji muses, giving the corpse a second look. Then, he drops it without ceremony, wiping his knuckles off on his shirt, slow and methodical.

“Guess you can’t even tell he was one of yours.”

Naoya blinks.

“…huh?”

Toji finally looks at him, flashing a smug grin. “Oh, yeah,” he nudges the body onto its back with his foot, revealing the ruined mess of a face. “Didn’t you know? These are your men.”

Something shifts—not the blood, not the bodies, but something else, something that had been slowly, steadily unraveling and Naoya had missed it.

“…w-what?” he blinks, speechless, forcing out a dry laugh. “The hell you mean, my men?”

Toji says nothing. Just begins rolling up his bloodied sleeves—one fold at a time—like he’s getting ready to mop the fucking floor.

“Gojo fired his entire staff tonight.”

A pause, because that’s it—that’s enough. Enough to let Naoya know how deeply, irreversibly he’s fucked up. The men Toji beat to death were Gojo’s old employees—their moles.

But Naoya just scoffs. “Tch… you’re fucking with me.” he leans back, arms crossing like he’s trying to hold something in place. “I mean… c’mon. Gojo fired his staff?” 

Toji looks at him, gaze flat. “Did I stutter?” An unnerving pause. “All of them,” he adds casually. “Kept Remi though.”

Jaw ticking, Naoya’s fingers twitch against his bicep.

“Paranoid bastard…” he mutters, too dry, too short. He swallows. Tries to laugh. “Doesn’t mean shit. Just means he got spooked. We knew there was a risk.”

Toji’s head tilts a fraction deeper, a shadow passing through his expression.

“…we?”

That word is a hammer. Naoya stills, because Toji’s voice is calm, but the weight of it drops like a fucking lead pipe.

“Let’s see… if I recall correctly…” he says, stepping closer, voice steady, cold, “I never fucking asked you to go into Gojo’s house, isn’t that right?”

“Well… but…” Naoya stammers. Then tries a shrug, rolling his shoulders like it’ll shake off the weight. “I did what needed to be done. We needed leverage—”

A cruel laugh cuts him off.

Toji shakes his head in amused disbelief, then moves—snatching the dead man by the collar, hauling him up like a ragdoll and slamming him down onto the table in front of Naoya.

The table jolts. A stack of yen shifts slightly. Leaning in, Toji presses a hand to the corpse’s face, twisting it toward him.

“…honestly?” his voice drops to a razor-thin edge. “This is how your fucking face should look right now.”

He holds it there, letting Naoya see every ruin of it. Then lets go, letting the corpse slump back into the table.

“But…” Toji sighs, wiping the back of his hand along his jaw, smearing blood like it’s no more than sweat. “Lucky for you… I need you lookin' pretty. So they don’t catch on.”

Naoya is stunned, frozen, desperately trying to piece together what the fuck to say, while Mei hums, still thumbing through her cash, unfazed. He tries to roll his shoulders back, to remember who the hell he is, but the tension sits thick in his bones.

C’mon now…

He didn’t mess up. Right? Not really.

He was just doing what needed to be done. That’s what he tells himself—over and over, even as his gut twists tighter. After all, breaking into Gojo’s house wasn’t a mistake. It was necessary.

Strategic. Calculated.

He had to find something to use against that smug bastard. Had to find something to remind you what happens when you step out of line.

Clearly it's not because he cared. Not because he gave a shit about what you were doing. Just leverage. Just... business.

That’s all it was.

…except it wasn’t. Not really.

Clenching his jaw, Naoya hates the flicker of truth that stirs under the layers of justification. Because he hadn’t been looking for evidence. He’d been looking for you.

For proof you were miserable without him. For proof you hadn’t actually slipped free. Because Naoya was a man who didn’t lose. Not women. Not anything. It was second nature—the way they folded. Under his voice. His anger. His hands. And you—you had been no different.

Until you were.

Until you walked out without permission. Until you looked him in the eye and told him no.

The thought curdles hot in his blood.

You were supposed to be broken without him. Begging. Waiting. Not smiling. Not building a life. And sure as hell not fucking Satoru Gojo.

So… maybe he hadn’t gone into Gojo’s house for leverage after all. Maybe he’d gone in because he needed to remind himself he still mattered. Still had power. Control. Because if you had really moved on—really slipped away—what does that make him?

Weak? Forgettable? Nothing?

Naoya grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

Fuck no.

Naoya Zenin doesn’t lose. Not to you. Not to anybody.

The silence lingers, and as Toji straightens slowly, his gaze drops, catching on something—just a flicker of red lace peeking from the edge of Naoya’s pocket. He shifts.

“What’s this?” and Naoya tenses as he reaches down, two fingers hooking the fabric from his pocket.

Panties.

Holding them up, Toji’s lips press together in a flat, humorless line.

“…this what you brought back?” he asks, voice dry, tossing the panties onto the table, inches from the corpse’s hand. “Jesus fucking Christ, Naoya…”

Across the table, Mei’s brow lifts, flicking through another bundle. “Classy,” she hums, amused.

Naoya straightens abruptly, chair scraping across the floor. “It wasn’t like that,” he blurts. “I—”

“Don’t.” Toji raises a hand, palm open. His voice doesn’t rise, but it slices through the room.

He looks down at the lace again.

“Let’s see if I’ve got this right…” he says slowly. “…you break into Gojo’s house without my permission… stir up shit we weren’t ready to stir—” His gaze snaps back to Naoya, seething. “And you come back with that?”

Naoya scoffs, brittle and defensive. He fumbles for his phone, tapping the screen like it proves something.

“Look, ‘cuz—this wasn’t about her. I got real shit. Photos. Documents. Things we can actually use. I know we needed leverage—”

“We didn’t need shit.”

Toji’s voice is like ice. He snatches the phone from Naoya’s hand, tossing it onto the table with a heavy clack. It spins, landing crooked against the corpse’s elbow.

Leaning in, the weight of him towers above Naoya, like a shadow.

“We agreed to use her to take him down. Clean. Quiet.” He pauses. “You went off script.”

Naoya shifts, stiff, shoulders tense.

Toji doesn’t back off.

“This isn’t about Gojo anymore,” he says, quieter now. “It’s about you, Naoya. You can’t see straight. You’re too caught up in your fucking toy.”

Blinking, Naoya opens his mouth, only to close it again—jaw flexing. He’s speechless, and Toji nods slowly, as if confirming something to himself. Pulling away, he exhales—running a hand through his hair, contemplating.

“…you know why I’ve let her stay breathing this long?”

Naoya’s brow furrows, “…why?”

Toji’s mouth curls into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Because you wanted her.” He shrugs. “Just me being a nice cousin, I guess.” He leans a knuckle on the edge of the table. “Plus… figured letting Gojo have her would keep you focused. Make it personal. Y'know... keep your edge sharp.”

Mei doesn’t stop counting, but there’s a faint twitch at the corner of her lips as Toji lets the silence stretch. The room holds its breath.

“Buuut… she’s clouding your judgment that badly, huh?” he mutters, rolling his neck, slow and lazy. “…maybe I should just kill her.”

Naoya jerks forward so fast the chair scrapes across the floor again.

“Don’t,” he snaps. “She’s mine to—”

Toji’s fist is moving before his last word is even fully out—straight to Naoya’s chest—brass knuckles biting deep.

Gasping, Naoya doubles over. The air rips from his lungs in one crushed breath, and he grabs the edge of the table, knuckles white, wheezing. But Toji doesn’t even look angry. He just brushes a drop of blood from his wrist, flicking it to the floor.

“That’s the last time you raise your fucking voice to me…” he says quietly, leaning one hand flat on the table. “Get your shit together. Start thinking with your head—not your fucking dick. You’re not the one who makes the calls. I’m the one running this clan, are we clear?”

Naoya doesn’t answer. Can’t. He’s still wheezing, hunched over the table like the air might never fully return to his lungs. Straightening, Toji refills his sake glass—slow, unhurried—as if the conversation’s already over. And across the table, the red lace sits exactly where it landed. Bloodied, silent—still sitting in plain sight.

Mei picks up a ruby ring, turning it under the low light.

“Well…” she sighs, slipping it onto her finger, “if we’re taking votes, I’d love to kill the bitch. She’s getting a little too cozy in my house.”

Taking a slow sip, Toji doesn’t answer. His eyes are still locked on Naoya’s crumpled figure—like he’s weighing whether this was a warning or the warmup.

Propping her chin in her palm, Mei watches the ring flash red as it catches the light.

“She walks the halls like she owns them,” she murmurs. “Like she thinks she’s safe.”

Toji’s gaze flicks back to the lace on the table.

“She won’t be for much longer.”

A deep breath pulls through Naoya’s teeth, rough and shaky. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then plants an elbow against the table—trying to think.

There’s blood in the air, metal in his teeth. The corpse on the table is already cooling, but the heat in Toji’s glare hasn’t faded.

You die if he slips again. And… if you die before he wins—before you look him in the eye and regret leaving—before he gets to make you need him again—then he loses forever.

And Naoya Zenin doesn’t lose.

Straightening, his breath finally steadies, and he forces the words out like they were always part of the plan.

“…she agreed to meet me,” he mutters.

Toji glances at him. Just a flick of the eyes.

“Did she?”

“Yeah…” Naoya nods once. “Tomorrow. The park by the river.” A pause. “She… thinks I want to talk.”

It sounds steadier than it should.

Because the truth is? He’s not sure what the fuck he’s doing anymore. He tells himself this is strategy. A setup. Another angle in the plan.

But in reality?

It’s need. It’s obsession. It’s him clawing at the fraying ends of something he used to hold in his hand like a leash.

Mei hums, unimpressed, setting the ruby down again.

“If she’s dumb enough to show up,” she shrugs, “she’s dumb enough to disappear.”

Naoya scoffs, jaw twitching.

You'll come.

“I never said she was smart.”

Mei smiles faintly, flipping a coin between her fingers. “No. Just smart enough to run before you tightened your leash.”

Leaning back, Naoya’s chair creaks under him.

“She still listens when I talk, doesn’t she?” His voice is low, mean. “Still flinches when I go quiet. Means she remembers her place.”

For a second, he almost believes it.

Mei glances at him, sideways.

“And yet… here you are,” she says. “Fumbling for control like a man who’s already lost it.”

Naoya’s glare snaps sharp, hot.

“Fuck you, Mei. She’ll come crawling back. Just you wait. She still wants me.”

Toji exhales through his nose, sharp and tired—like he’s heard this all before and it’s not worth the energy anymore.

“Oh, shut the fuck up—both of you.” He sets his glass down with a soft clink—a sound that lands heavier than any fist. His gaze cuts to Naoya—sharp, certain. “So. Tomorrow. You set this up?”

Hesitating, Naoya’s hand tightens around the edge of the table. The tension in his shoulders is like a drawn wire.

“Yeah…” he says finally.

Toji watches for a beat—then nods, like the final piece has just slotted into place.

“Alright. Then we’ll use it.” He steps forward, planting both hands on the table—casual, but weighted. “You show up. Smile. Play the part. Whatever version of ‘sorry’ she still falls for.”

Leaning in, Naoya’s eyes narrow. “Okay… sure. And where will you be?”

Toji smirks. “In the trees.” he rises, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “We take her. And once she’s gone, Gojo will lose his goddamn mind.”

Mei perks up slightly, glancing up from her stack of bills.

“That’s the fun part.”

Toji nods. “If there's no mother, there's no custody. She vanishes—and before the hearing? The court eats that shit up alive. They’ll label her unstable. Reckless. Unfit.” He looks at Naoya. “Haru goes to you. And so long as you don’t fuck this up, you’ll get to keep your toy.” A beat. “And Gojo? He’ll fall apart trying to find her. Every camera. Every connection. He’ll tear his whole fucking empire down just to get to her.”

Naoya’s lip curls. Smug. That’s what he wants. But Toji doesn’t let it breathe.

“And when he’s desperate enough…” Toji steps closer. His voice drops. “He bends. He crawls. For her. For the kid.”

Mei smirks faintly, thumbing through another bill.

“Break the girl, break the man.”

Toji nods once. The final move in a game he’s already won. His eyes drop to the red lace still crumpled between the yen and the corpse’s elbow.

“Once you say the word, Naoya. We move.” He straightens, pulling his jacket off the back of the chair and sliding it over his shoulders. “We’ll be sure to wire you in the morning.” His voice is cool. Measured. “I’ll be listening in. Just give me the signal—

a pause

—and I take her.”

ꨄ

A knock at the door.

Haru stiffens beside you, her small fingers curling tight into the hem of your hoodie. You’re still barefoot, still warm from sleep, but something in you mirrors her instinct—your spine straightens, breath pausing at the thought of who’s on the other side.

“That’ll be them,” Satoru is already rising with a low stretch, dragging a hand through his hair as he strides toward the hallway.

The door swings open a moment later.

Nanami Kento.

He stands framed in the entryway like a man sculpted from stillness—tall, clean-cut, his suit so crisply pressed it looks like it could cut glass. Blonde hair swept neatly back, glasses catching the light, his expression unreadable.

Reserved, but not cold—the kind of man who makes silence feel like structure.

Surveying the room, he nods, stepping inside with measured ease, placing his suitcase down by the door. A moment later, Suguru follows behind him, all relaxed posture and familiar warmth—scarf loose, coat half-buttoned, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

“Mornin’,” Suguru greets softly, a quiet knowing nod.

You nod back. “Morning…”

Satoru shuts the door and leans into it, grin already tugging at his lips.

“Well, shit,” he drawls, eyes sliding toward Nanami. “You actually came.”

Nanami exhales like he’s already regretting it. “…you texted twelve times.”

Satoru pushes off the doorframe with a little whine, his steps lazy and exaggerated. “Yeah, well. You weren’t answering your phone,” he pouts. “I was starting to think you finally blocked me.”

“If that worked,” Nanami says dryly, “I’d have done it ten years ago.”

“Aww, you say the sweetest things, Nanamin~” Satoru beams, clapping a hand around his shoulder, giving him a warm, too-familiar shake. “Still stiff as a board, I see. What gives, Malaysia didn’t loosen you up?”

Exhaling, Nanami adjusts his jacket, like he’s resetting the moment.

“…I thought I was retired.”

Behind him, Suguru hums, unwrapping his scarf and hanging it over the rack.

“Was.”

Satoru’s grin broadens, playful as ever.

“You love me too much to stay gone.”

“I regret it already…” Nanami mutters.

“You should,” Suguru adds, smirking as he slips off his coat. “But we’re grateful you showed up.”

“Yes… well,” Nanami smooths a crease from his sleeve, voice quieter now. “…you said it was important.”

Satoru pauses, his smile shifting—quieter now, less playful.

“It is...”

His gaze flicks to you. Then down to Haru, still clinging to your leg like a koala. Straightening, his cocky smile returns—just enough to cut the weight in the room.

“Nanami… meet the only people on earth who still tolerate me,” he gestures grandly, a magician presenting his final trick. “My girls.”

Turning fully towards you, Nanami’s head dips in a small, courteous bow.

“Mrs. Gojo,” he says, voice even. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Kento.”

“Kento,” you echo with a nod, offering a soft smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Your hand moves gently along Haru’s back, a quiet reassurance she doesn’t take. She’s glued to your leg, her little body half-hidden in the folds of your hoodie, face tucked into the fabric like it’s a shield.

Smoothing a hand down in slow, comforting strokes, you glance up at Nanami with a small, apologetic smile.

“She’s a little shy around new people…” your gaze dips down to her. “Haru? Sweetie… can you say hi to Mr. Nanami?”

Lowering his gaze, Nanami studies her in silence. He doesn’t step forward. Doesn’t crouch. Doesn’t crowd. Just waits—still and calm.

Haru peeks. Then retreats.

“Nanamin, c’mon man…” Satoru groans behind you. “You trying to scare her into a lifetime of therapy?”

Nanami doesn’t even blink. “I… haven’t said anything?”

“Exactly,” Satoru sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “She’s timid around serious people. And you, my friend, look like you do taxes in your sleep.”

But glancing down at Haru, Satoru hesitates—just for a beat.

Because there are still days—quiet, strange days—when he’s unsure how to comfort her. When her small flinches echo louder in his chest than they should. When he wonders if he’s failed before he’s even begun. When her silence makes him feel like he’s still standing on the outside of a door he desperately wants to be let into.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s more stranger than safety.

But then, he breathes out, settling on the rug beside her, careful not to startle. He doesn’t speak at first. Just reaches out, resting a hand gently against the small of her back—steady, grounding.

“Haru…” he murmurs, softer, more measured. “Sweetheart…”

She doesn’t look up.

Leaning closer, he keeps his tone light. “Hey… this is my friend. Nanamin.”

She peeks. Just a flash of her eye.

“…Nanamin?” she murmurs, muffled against the hoodie.

“Mhm,” Satoru nods, grin softening as he gently brushes a knuckle along her cheek. “He’s gonna help protect you and Mommy for me.”

Blinking, her grip shifts, loosening your hoodie slightly.

“He’s not scary,” Satoru whispers, conspiratorial now, as if sharing a very important secret. “Promise. He doesn’t eat kids. Just spreadsheets. And sometimes bad guys.”

That earns the softest giggle—thin and breathy, curling beneath her lips like something fragile finally surfacing. And Satoru’s chest warms with it—like sun cracking through a cloudy morning.

With a heavy breath, his hand settles over her back again, reassuring. She doesn’t flinch this time. Clearing his throat, Nanami brings your attention back to him.

“…may I?” he asks you, removing his glasses, gesturing to the space on the rug in front of her.

“Oh, yes.” You nod, caught a little off guard by his gentle tone. “Of course.”

Crouching slowly, the fabric of his suit whispers against itself as he settles into the space. Not too close. Just close enough.

“Hello there,” his voice is low and warm. “…may I ask your name?”

Hiding her face, Haru grips your sweater tighter. Refusing to answer.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” you lean down, soothing her. “Go on. You can tell him.”

A pause.

Then, she tentatively whispers, “…Haru.”

Nanami nods, like she’s given him something sacred.

“That’s a beautiful name, Haru.”

She doesn’t respond. Not with words, at least. But her fingers loosen, and her eyes lift—still cautious, but no longer retreating.

From it, Nanami reaches into his coat pocket. There’s something about the gesture—precise, but quiet—that draws Haru’s attention. When his hand reemerges, he’s holding a folded crane. Pale blue paper patterned with tiny clouds. He sets it gently on the rug between them, like it’s always meant to be there.

“I made this on the train,” he says simply. “I thought you might like it.”

Haru blinks, slowly lowering herself to her knees, studying the crane with wide eyes.

Still crouched nearby, Satoru raises a brow. “Wait. You made that?”

Nanami doesn’t look at him. “Yes.”

“Origami?”

“Yes.”

“…the fuck?”

Behind him, Suguru’s voice drifts in with a faint laugh. “He’s been folding paper since middle school. You never noticed?”

Satoru whips his head around to look at him, genuinely affronted. “How have I never known this?!”

Suguru shrugs, unbothered. “Because you were too busy getting suspended for throwing erasers out the window.”

Nanami doesn’t react. Just keeps his focus gently on the little girl in front of him.

“You can keep it,” he tells her. “If you’d like.”

Looking up at him, Haru slowly stretches forward, picking up the crane like it’s something precious, like it might fly away if she touches it too roughly. Something meant for her.

“…it’s pretty,” she whispers.

Satoru rises with a groan, stretching as he leans against the wall beside Suguru, arms folded, eyes narrowed in mock betrayal.

“…she warmed up to him faster than she did to me.”

Suguru grins. “She’s got good taste.”

Satoru pouts, muttering, “I make her waffles…”

But before Suguru can toss another jab, the soft click of the front door handle breaks the moment—the familiar twist of metal, the hush of hinges swinging open.

The energy shifts. And then—Remi steps inside.

Her heels tap lightly against the floor, coat draped perfectly over her shoulders, a scarf knotted at her throat with practiced elegance. She pauses in the entryway, looking surprised to see so many people in the foyer, but it fades quickly behind a polished smile.

“Hi Haru!” she calls brightly, saccharine sweet.

Haru’s head whips up, eyes wide.

“Remi!” she gasps, nearly dropping the paper crane in her hands—taking off in a rush of quick footsteps, throwing her arms around Remi’s legs, giggling. “You’re here!”

Crouching down to return the hug, Remi softens with a familiar ease. “Of course I am, sweetheart,” her fingers tuck a curl behind Haru’s ear. “I’m excited to play with you today!”

From his place near the wall, Satoru straightens, unfolding slowly from where he’s been leaning—expression neutral, but watching closely.

“Ah, Remi…” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Meant to text you earlier. Should’ve mentioned.”

You glance toward him, brow furrowing. And she glances up, blinking once.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, sorry you came all the way down here. But you’re not needed today.” He gestures loosely towards you. “My wife’s staying home. So go ahead and take the day off, yeah?”

You blink, startled. He didn’t mention that. Usually Remi stays to help, regardless. Still—

…you guess it makes sense, doesn’t it?

You’re home. Haru’s home. So... of course you wouldn’t need the nanny. Brushing the surprise off, you tuck it away.

Remi hesitates just a second too long—her lashes flickering, eyes jumping from Satoru to you… then drifting, just barely, toward the unfamiliar man crouched on the rug beside Haru.

Nanami is already rising, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with quiet, deliberate calm. And for a moment, you feel it—a ripple beneath the surface. Nothing you can name. Just a shift.

Remi’s smile returns quickly, but there’s a brittleness to it now. “I see,” she smooths her coat, standing upright. “Well…” she shifts her purse on her shoulder. “I’ll just—leave you all to it, then.”

But Haru, still clutching her hand, pulls her back with the urgency of someone who needs to share something important. “Wait! Look!” she holds up the crane, beaming. “Nanamin made this for me!”

Remi blinks, eyes dropping to the crane, lingering for a second too long, and when she looks up again, her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“How lovely…” she murmurs. “You take good care of it, alright sweetheart?”

“I will!” Haru chirps, already turning back toward Nanami, fingers curled around the little wings.

Releasing her hand, Remi steps back, moving toward the door. Her heels tap gently against the marble as she passes behind Satoru, casting a fleeting glance in Nanami’s direction. Then she leaves—the door closing—a soft, decisive click.

“Nanamin,” Haru says brightly, lifting the crane with both hands. “What’s his name?”

Leaning forward, Nanami’s forearms rest gently on his knees.

“He doesn’t have one yet… but I think he’s waiting for you to choose.”

Tilting her head, Haru’s eyes flick between the delicate folds of the crane and Nanami’s face.

“But… I don’t know what he wants to be.”

Nanami hums, studying the little paper bird. “Hmm… he looks like a Sora to me. That means ‘sky’ in Japanese. Peaceful. Light. Brave. Seems fitting… don’t you think?”

Haru’s eyes brighten. “Sora…” she repeats softly, looking down at the crane with newfound reverence. “Okay! That’s his name.”

“A very good choice,” Nanami smiles gently.

Beaming, she inches closer, holding the crane up between them like an offering.

“Can you help me make one?”

You chuckle under your breath, looking down at your daughter.

“She’s going to want a whole family of them by the end of the day…”

Nanami looks up, giving you a wry smile, and you glance toward Satoru, still leaning against the wall. His arms are folded, but there’s something softer in his eyes now. Something almost protective.

His gaze is on Haru, but then it flicks to you. And you know—without him saying a word—he’s relieved. And honestly? You are too. Because Haru’s earlier anxiety has dissolved entirely—like mist lifting from the floor. You hadn’t even realized your shoulders were still tense until now. Because you weren’t sure what to expect with this Nanami Kento… but if he’s someone Satoru is trusting you with? Then… you will trust him too.

“Do you have paper?” Nanami asks you, then turns his attention back to Haru. “If we have paper, I’d be happy to show you Haru.”

“Yay!!” she squeals, scampering off—voice trailing behind her as she rambles about colors, wingspans, and how the next crane should have a name that means rainbow.

Starting to rise, you instinctively begin to follow her, but a familiar voice draws you back.

“Well then… we’re gonna head out,” Suguru calls from near the door, adjusting his coat with one hand.

Satoru groans as he pushes off the wall, stretching his arms overhead. “Duty calls…” he mutters, dragging a hand over his face before walking toward you.

“Oh… right.” Nodding, you meet him halfway—him stopping in front of you. As your eyes meet, there’s something different in the way he holds your gaze. Something gentler.

“Hey…” his hand lifts to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear—fingers lingering a beat too long. “You’ll… be alright?”

“Yeah…” you nod once, but the gesture carries weight. A dozen things you don’t say. That you’re still a little nervous. That you know he’s been trying to keep you at ease. That you hate this. That you wish he wasn’t leaving. That you know why he has to.

That despite everything… you have a gut feeling why he hired Nanami. And that… you trust him, unconditionally.

He’s studying you—really studying you—gaze moving across your features, searching, as if trying to read the things your mouth won’t form. And when your eyes flick away—when your lips press into something tight and fragile—he exhales.

“Hmmm…” his arms warp around your waist, swaying. “If I tell Naoya to go to hell and cancel this… would you be mad?”

You blink up at him, startled. “Wait… what?”

“I’m serious,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Give me one reason. I’ll stay.”

You pause, caught between the earnestness in his voice and the way it cracks your chest open. A soft breath escapes your lips—a laugh, small but real. And that alone makes his shoulders ease just slightly.

“Satoru…” you say, gently. “You… you can’t,” you sigh, swallowing. “For the custody battle… for Haru. You have to go talk to him.”

“Yeah… I know,” he mutters, exhaling. “Still doesn’t mean I like leaving… especially not when your face looks like that.”

You pause, lifting a brow. “Oh? What face?”

“The one that makes me want to deck him twice before we’ve even said hello.”

A light giggle slips past your lips, and that smile, that sound—it’s everything he needs, every assurance that tells him it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.

...right?

His hand moves again, brushing a knuckle down your cheek, thumb tracing your jaw. Then, slowly, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead—slow, steady. Like a vow. Like he’s sealing something in the silence.

But as he lingers there, words begin to build behind his lips—the urge to say it.

I love you.

It’s there. Pressing hard against the back of his throat. Lingering. Long enough to consider saying it. But…

No. Fuck… not here. Not yet. Suguru’s watching. Nanami’s waiting. Haru’s nearby, chattering about paper cranes and rainbows like it’s the most important thing in the world.

So instead, he swallows it down, tucking it somewhere safe, resting on something smaller.

“Be back soon…” he murmurs into your hair, a little hoarse. “…I’ll miss you.”

You nod, but your fingers curl into the front of his coat, grounding him for just a second longer. “I’ll miss you too,” you murmur.

Pulling back, a slow smile tugs at his lips—quiet, lopsided. The kind he only ever gives you. Then, reluctantly, he steps away, turning toward the rug where Haru is—Sora in hand.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he crouches beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “You be good for Mommy and Nanamin, okay?”

“Okay…” Haru nods, clutching her crane to her chest. “Bye-bye, ‘toru.”

Chuckling, he taps her nose gently, rising—adjusting the hem of his coat. Nanami is already at the door, waiting with a quiet kind of stillness that feels more like assurance than impatience.

Satoru joins him. But before stepping past, he turns for one last look.

You’re seated now on the rug, watching Haru chatter excitedly about crane friends and rainbows. Your hands guide hers through another fold, her head bows in concentration. And while you’re there, smiling at her, nodding at whatever she’s saying, something about it… roots him.

For a moment, he just stands there, watching. Quiet. Still. Then, without turning away, he speaks to Nanami.

“I’m trusting you with my family.”

Nanami blinks, not answering at first. Satoru’s voice is quiet. Stripped of his usual wit.

Honest.

He hesitates. Not because he’s unsure—but because he knows the weight of that statement. Because he hears something in it that Satoru Gojo rarely gives: vulnerability.

After a moment, Nanami nods. “…I know.”

And Satoru nods back, something faint and unspoken passing between them. A trust that didn’t need proving—but was given anyway.

Exhaling, Satoru steps out as Suguru pushes the door open beside him.

“Try not to give her a spreadsheet to color, kay?” he waves, half-grinning as he steps out.

Nanami lifts a brow. “…I’ll do my best.”

And then they’re gone.

The door clicks closed behind them, the house exhales. The warmth returns, but underneath it… a stillness lingers. Like the moment before a thread pulls taut.

You shift on the rug beside Haru, who’s holding out a new sheet of paper in both hands like it’s a treasure.

“Nanamin!!” she calls. “This one’s gonna be Sora’s friend. Can you help?”

And settling beside her, they begin again.

“Of course, Haru.”

ꨄ

“You’re staring at the ceiling like it owes you money.”

Slouching in the limo’s leather seat, a low hum rumbles in Satoru’s chest—like he’s tuning Suguru out entirely. One leg stretches out, the other hooks casually over his knee. His head is tipped back against the headrest and his arm is tucked lazily behind it—sunglasses perched in his snowy hair haphazardly.

As the car glides beneath them, smooth and muffled, the outside world is reduced to shapes behind tinted windows. Across from him, Suguru sits—phone in hand, thumb idly scrolling. But his eyes linger on Satoru, drawn to the quiet focus in his best friend’s expression.

Suguru sighs, nudging the sole of Satoru’s shoe with the tip of his own.

“Oi!”

Satoru startles just enough to be annoyed. “The hell—”

“I’m talking to you,” Suguru deadpans.

“You could’ve just said my name like a normal person…” Satoru huffs.

“I did. Twice. You ignored me. Kicking you was plan B.”

A long, exaggerated exhale drags through Satoru’s nose—long suffering. He shifts, arms crossing loosely as he leans back into his seat again, eyes fluttering closed like maybe if he fakes sleep, Suguru will let it go.

He doesn’t.

“You’ve been quiet for five whole minutes,” Suguru muses. “Should I be worried?”

Smirking, Satoru cracks a blue eye open. “Wow. You want me to talk more? Frame this moment. Call the press.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying…” he shifts, slipping his phone into his coat pocket, leaning an elbow on the armrest. “…I’m not used to seeing your mouth closed. It’s unnerving.”

Satoru’s smirk stretches deeper. “Yeah?” he lets his eye fall shut again, shifting deeper into the seat with a low, amused hum. “That’s rich coming from the guy who used to make me sit through his existential philosophy rants after two beers,” he murmurs.

Clicking his tongue, Suguru grins. “Yeah, well. At least I shut up when the beer runs out.”

“Mmm… touché,” Satoru chuckles.

For a moment, the silence returns—lingering as Suguru glances at him sideways, reading between the lines. He sighs.

“C’mon… what’s really up?” he asks, tilting his head. “You’ve got that expression again.”

Raising a brow, Satoru’s eyes open.

“What expression?” he plays dumb.

Suguru rolls his eyes, seeing straight through his bullshit.

“The one where your brain’s running a marathon and none of us are invited.”

Giving in, Satoru exhales—long, deep. Like it’s the first real breath he’s taken in minutes.

“Dunno,” he mutters, arms dropping, fingers running back through his hair. “Just… thinkin’, I guess.”

His gaze shifts toward the window, and the city slides past in streaks of motion blur—gray buildings, flashes of glass and steel. Everything feels like it’s moving too fast and not fast enough all at once.

Suguru doesn’t push. Just watches—tracking the shift in his tone. He already knows where this is going. There’s only one thing that’s been able to slow Satoru Gojo down lately. Only one person.

“…about your wife?”

Satoru’s eyes flick to him, a hum slipping from his throat—low, almost sheepish.

“Yeah…” he says quietly. “She’s in my head a lot lately.”

Leaning back in his seat, Suguru’s arms fold loosely across his chest.

“You’re different with her.”

A slow smile curls at Satoru’s mouth, wry and self-aware. “Psh… is that your way of saying I’m whipped?”

“No,” Suguru replies dryly. “That’s my way of saying you’re not acting like a complete jackass for once. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Wow,” Satoru gasps, clutching his chest with mock betrayal. “Touching. Really. Remind me to put that on a plaque.”

“Yup. With her, your… serious. Less obnoxious. Honestly?” Suguru pauses for effect. “Slightly tolerable.”

“Jesus,” Slouching deeper into his seat, Satoru tosses one arm over his face with theatrical flair. “I’m being bullied,” he whines, muffled. “Bullied in my own limo. Suguru, say something nice before I cry.”

“No,” Suguru corrects, barely holding back a grin. “This is an intervention.”

Satoru peeks out from under his arm, his pout barely hidden beneath the feigned theatrics. “You used to be nicer to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Suguru shrugs, resting his head lightly against the tinted window. “You used to be single.”

That pulls a low laugh from Satoru’s chest, his hand dragging through his hair as he sighs—deep, thoughtful. The humor lingers, but so does something heavier beneath it.

“I dunno…” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not like I haven’t been with people. But with her…” he trails off, struggling to articulate something that still feels too big, too personal.

Suguru fills in the blank for him.

“You don’t want to fuck it up.”

Satoru huffs a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Yeah… that.”

“She’s got you all twisted, man,” Suguru says, shaking his head with a grin. “You, the guy who ghosted a girl for bringing a toothbrush.”

Satoru groans like he’s already regretting ever telling him that story. Grimacing, he tosses a hand in the air. “That toothbrush was aggressive…” he mutters, like that justifies everything. “She left it in my sink on the second date.”

“Right… and now here you are, firing your entire staff after someone steals your wife’s panties?”

Groaning loudly, Satoru drags both hands down his face. “Don’t start.”

Suguru snickers, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m just saying—when Satoru Gojo starts launching internal investigations over lace? That’s not casual.”

“Fuck off,” Satoru groans again, voice muffled by his palms.

Leaning forward slightly, Suguru rests his chin in his hand.

“It’s just…” his expression softens. “I’m pretty sure this is the most serious you’ve ever been about anyone.”

For a moment, Satoru says nothing. His eyes flick toward the passing city again—then shift back to Suguru, and when he speaks, the joking tone is gone. There’s no smirk, no dramatic pout. Just truth, laid plain.

“Yeah… well…” he murmurs, voice low. “She’s it, y’know?”

He holds Suguru’s gaze.

“…she’s my one and only.”

That makes Suguru pause.

Something in his face stills. It’s not like he didn’t know—but hearing it like that, from Satoru, who never says anything like that? It lands.

“Well… damn,” Suguru mutters.

Satoru nods, slow and firm, like he’s still trying to believe it himself. Like saying it out loud makes it more real.

“Last night…” his eyes fix on the skyline again. “I told her I loved her.”

Suguru blinks. A beat of stunned silence settles between them.

“…holy shit.”

A faint smirk tugs at Satoru’s mouth. He nods again, almost sheepish.

Suguru straightens, brow arching. “She say it back?”

Satoru snorts under his breath. “She was asleep.”

Suguru stares. “You confessed to a sleeping woman?”

“I didn’t plan it, alright?” Satoru groans, flopping back against the seat like it physically pains him. “It just came out. We were talking… I was lying there with her in my arms, and it just—happened,” he scrubs a hand over his face, dragging it down in frustration. “And after I said it, I looked down and she was already out. Just… totally asleep.”

Suguru stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Thanks,” Satoru deadpans.

“So… now what?” Suguru asks.

Leaning forward, Satoru’s forearms brace against his knees, palms rubbing together like he’s grounding himself. His voice drops again—quieter, more measured.

“I guess… I wait? Or try again,” he sighs, pausing. “But… I want to do it right. This time, I want her to hear it. I want her to know I mean it...” His hands fall still, eyes dropping to the floor. “She deserves that… a real proposal. A real wedding. Not… whatever the hell I dragged her into.”

For a moment, neither of them speaks. The limo hums along, the gentle rhythm of the road filling the silence like background music to something neither of them wants to admit feels heavy.

Then—click—the intercom above the driver’s seat crackles softly to life.

“We’re about five minutes out,” Ichiji’s voice chimes through, polite as always. “Approaching the south entrance of the park now.”

Satoru blinks, dragging a hand down his face like the sound physically yanks him out of his thoughts. Leaning back, he eyes the window again—but the skyline has faded now, replaced by iron railings and leaf-heavy trees, blurring past.

Suguru exhales, straightening in his seat.

“So… remember what we discussed,” Suguru murmurs. “You want me to start?”

Satoru shifts, pulling his sunglasses from where they’re perched in his hair, sliding them into place over his eyes. His expression hardens, smoothing into something unreadable.

It’s like watching armor click into place.

“I’ll start,” he declares. “If he gets mouthy, feel free to step in and hurt his feelings.”

Suguru huffs a laugh, pulling his long hair into a lazy bun at the nape of his neck. “Sounds like a plan. Just… don’t underestimate him. Stay alert, this is the yakuza we’re dealing with. And try not to lash out. Anything you say, he’s gonna try to use against you.”

"Yeah..." Satoru nods once, slow. His jaw ticks. "I know..."

And he'll do whatever's needed, whatever he needs to do.

For you.

ꨄ

The wind bites through the trees with purpose, and Naoya adjusts the cuff of his coat, eyes fixed on the empty path ahead, foot tapping against the stone beneath him. His nerves are fraying—not that he’d admit it—but this waiting game has never suited him. Waiting implies he’s not in control. And he is in control. Always has been.

Glancing down at his watch, he exhales, irritated.

Where the fuck are you?

You said you’d come.

And you always do, don’t you? Compliance is a habit. He made sure of that. And when you show up today—alone, nervous, eyes soft with apology—it’ll confirm everything. That you’re his.

That’s why you’re coming today… right? Because deep down, you want to come back. You still need him.

And he’s not unreasonable, okay?! God, he’s not cruel. Not unless you push him. Not unless you make him be. He only ever raised his voice because you forced him to. He only grabbed your wrist because you weren’t listening. He had to yell, to break you when you left him no choice.

You’re just being difficult. You’ve always been a little emotional, haven’t you? Fragile. Confused. You run away, cry—then crawl back. Right now, you’re just spiraling—latching onto anything that feels safe. And maybe Gojo feels safe to you right now. Sure. He’s got the money. The house. The image.

But given time, you’ll remember who you belong to.

He almost convinces himself of it, and then, as a black limo rolls into view—tires crunching over gravel—he straightens, lips curling in amusement.

Finally.

Well… that is, until the door opens with a hiss and two silhouettes step out.

Satoru. Fucking. Gojo.

White hair catching the gray light, hands shoving in his pockets, like nothing here is serious enough to touch him. That stupid, lazy grin already on his face. And beside him, Suguru Geto—all quiet control, eyes scanning the space.

Naoya stills. No you.

…where the fuck are you?

You said you’d come. His lips pull back into a snarl.

“God fucking dammit…” he mutters, jaw clenching as the door closes behind them.

The earpiece in his collar clicks. “What?” Toji’s voice filters through.

Naoya doesn’t answer right away—eyes narrowing as Gojo lifts his hand in a lazy wave, like this is some social call, like greeting an old friend. Like Naoya’s the punchline.

“They didn’t bring her…” he growls. “It’s just Gojo and Geto.”

There’s a beat. Static hums.

“Mmm. Yup.” Toji replies. Flat. Like he saw it coming. “Figured this might happen.”

The two men begin their approach, shoes tapping over the stone in slow, deliberate steps—dragging the moment out, letting it stretch. They’re making it a fucking show. And every second of it grates under Naoya’s skin.

Growling, Naoya’s hands curl into fists inside his coat pockets.

“Fuck the plan,” he mutters. “We should just end it here, yeah?”

Toji huffs, unimpressed. “You wanna jump ‘em? In broad daylight?”

Naoya’s jaw tightens. “No one’s around. We move fast—”

“No.”

That single word lands sharp.

Naoya bristles. “What?”

“You heard me. Don’t fuck up again. Remember what happens if you do?”

Naoya falls silent and Toji grins.

Good.

Eyes narrowing, Toji watches them approach—perched in his hidden vantage point, one with the trees. He’s not worried about a fight—he’s just not stupid enough to pick the wrong one.

Gojo’s got that cocky swagger, sure—but it’s not just for show. There’s balance in his stride. Stillness in his arms, even with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His weight shifts like someone who knows where to brace if things go sideways.

He’s not posturing. He’s ready.

Because Satoru Gojo isn’t just some heir with a punchable face. Takemi made sure of that. He didn’t raise a son. Raised a successor. Something sharp in a soft coat.

And Geto—fuck, Toji hates the quiet ones. Geto’s not looking at them—not even pretending to care. Which means he’s watching everything. Lawyer or not, that kind of calm means one thing: he’s broken someone’s nose before, and didn’t lose sleep over it.

Toji could take them. Maybe. Probably.

But this isn’t about if.

It’s about when.

And where.

And what the fallout looks like.

You were easy.

One snatch. Clean. Quiet.

But this? This is different. Two men trained to react, both alert, in a public park?

That’s not control. That’s noise.

And Toji doesn’t like noise.

“They’re right here,” Naoya snaps, again. “C’mon, let’s just end him. This whole thing’s a joke if we don’t—”

“I said, no.”

This time it lands like a gunshot—sharp, final—wind moving through the branches, brittle and dry.

“I’m not here to fight him,” he exhales. “I’m here to break him. Ruin him.” He pauses, a wicked grin stretching across his lips. “And… that takes patience, ‘cuz. Our day will come.”

ꨄ

Satoru’s grin pulls slow across his mouth as they near, all teeth and lazy ease.

"Appreciate you makin’ time for us," he hums, stepping forward without a care in the world, hands tucked deep into his pockets, like he’s strolling through this encounter instead of walking into a confrontation.

Naoya’s jaw ticks.

“You’re not the one I came to see.”

Tilting his head, Satoru studies him with a laziness that’s almost mocking. His grin lingers, but there’s a shift—something colder bleeding in around the edges.

“You really thought I’d let you get within ten feet of my wife…?”

Wife.

The word detonates in Naoya’s blood, cracking through the cold air like a whip.

“Tch. What a load of shit…” he scowls. “She was never wife material to begin with.”

Shifting his weight lazily, Satoru hums, tapping his chin like he's genuinely thinking it over, just to be an asshole about it.

“I’d say it suits her,” he muses. “She looks better beside me. Softer. Happier.” He lets it hang, watching Naoya grind his teeth. “Almost like… she smiles more when you're not around.”

Naoya’s nostrils flare, body tightening under his coat like he’s one wrong word from snapping.

“She’s just clinging to you because she’s scared to be alone,” he spits, stepping forward a fraction, trying to reclaim ground he’s already lost. "Always trembling for attention... doesn’t mean she actually wants you."

Satoru’s grin doesn’t slip. If anything, it deepens—slow, wicked.

"Naaah…” he shrugs, closing the space between them without hurry, savoring it. “She trembles because I actually know how to touch her.” He quirks a brow, grinning. “I just make her feel good, in more ways than one."

Naoya’s eyes flare as Satoru casts him a lazy wink—like twisting the knife is part of the fun.

“Fuck you.”

Satoru laughs. “Did I hit a nerve?” he tilts his head, slowly. “Y’know… she leaves things with me. In my nightstand. Little things. Keepsakes. It’s kinda our thing.” He shrugs, smug. “Weird when they disappear…”

He lets it hang there for a moment.

“…you ever notice when something’s just… not where you left it?”

In Naoya’s ear, the comm hisses softly.

“Don’t react. Don’t take the bait.”

Naoya scoffs, trying to roll his shoulders loose.

“You lose something, or are we just makin conversation?”

Satoru’s grin curves slow, sharp at the edges.

“Nah… not lost. Just gone. There’s a difference.”

Studying Naoya, Satoru’s gaze flicks downward—to his hand—to the bandage wrapped around his palm. Clean, precise, fresh.

“Huh…” he hums softly. “That looks recent.”

Tensing, Naoya glances down at his hand before shoving it back into his coat pocket—like it’s nothing.

“Glass,” he mutters. “Broke something. Cut my palm.”

Satoru nods, contemplative. “You know…” he drawls slowly. “I couldn’t help noticing a bit of blood in my wife’s bedroom the other day.”

“Oh… yeah?” Naoya murmurs.

“Mhmm…” Satoru’s eyes narrow. “Strange, right? Seeing as none of my staff seemed hurt.”

The comm clicks again.

“Push it off you. Change the subject.”

“You’re sounding a bit paranoid Gojo,” Naoya scoffs, shifting. “If this is how you handle losing a memento, can’t imagine how you’ll handle losing in court,” Naoya straightens, smirking. “Figures she’d send her fucking lapdog to speak for her today. Little bitch was always good at pretending she was the victim. Won’t even face me.”

Satoru’s expression hardens instantly—that lazy grin vanishing in a blink. But as he feels Suguru’s hand on his shoulder, he shifts, glancing at his best friend.

Suguru is smiling, wide and unbothered—sliding between them like it’s his turn on the chessboard.

“Come on now, Naoya…” he hums, light with mock sympathy. “As a fellow lawyer, you know how this works.”

Gritting his teeth, Naoya glares. “Suguru Geto…”

“Yo.” Suguru lifts two fingers in a lazy wave. “Long time no see.”

He lets that hang for a moment before continuing.

“There’s a case open. Custody-related. Which means you shouldn’t be anywhere near my client… right?” Suguru reminds him, head tilting in amusement. “So, you’ll be directing all communication through me moving forward. I’ll be representing y/n.”

Naoya huffs, rolling his eyes. “What happened, Geto? Couldn’t cut it in real courtrooms, so you’re doing babysitting gigs for Gojo now?”

Suguru chuckles softly. “You can question my résumé if it helps you sleep at night,” his grin stretches, sharper. “Won’t change what’s coming. This case will be over faster than your career ever was.”

“Pfft. Yeah?” Naoya laughs bitterly. “Good luck building a case on her.” He sneers. “She can barely hold it together for five minutes without crying. Weak, whiny little bitch.”

Satoru’s jaw locks, heat radiating off him. “Hey. Watch your fucking mouth.”

Peering back, Suguru lifts a hand—calm, watchful.

“Satoru...”

But Naoya keeps going.

“You think you won something?” he spits. “She’s nothing but a fucking burden. Always was.”

Satoru’s blue eyes darken into something dangerous.

“I’m serious…” he steps forward, voice lowering. “You better watch your fucking mouth…”

“…that so?” Naoya raises a brow.

Bingo. He just got an idea.

Shifting on his heels, he crosses his arms behind his head lazily.

“And why’s that, Gojo? Did I hit a nerve now?

Exhaling slowly through his nose, Satoru tries to hold himself steady.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve… I’ll tell ya that.” He lowers his glasses to the bridge, glaring into Naoya’s eyes. “She carried everything you couldn’t handle… and you have the nerve to call her a burden?” he scoffs. “Tell me—did you even try being a father to Haru?”

The comm crackles in Naoya’s ear. Toji’s voice, low and amused:

“Careful. You’re about to get punched.”

But Naoya grins. Because that’s exactly what he wants.

“Don’t even get me started on her as a mother,” he scoffs. “Pathetic. A fucking failure. Can’t handle a kid, can’t handle herself. Sure—she’s got a pretty face, a hot body…” He shrugs. “But that’s it. Nothing underneath.”

Satoru’s shoulders rise, slow and stiff. Suguru shifts again.

“Satoru. Don’t…” he mutters carefully.

But Satoru’s eyes hold Naoya’s. Glare sharpening.

“I’m telling you now…” his fist clenches. “You don’t get another warning.”

Smirking, Naoya shrugs again—like he’s tossing scraps.

“Well… at least she spread her legs good,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Decent fuck. Though even then, she couldn’t finish unless someone told her she was worth the mess. Pathetic little—”

The punch lands hard. A sharp, wet crack as Naoya’s head jerks sideways—blood blooming at the corner of his mouth. Stumbling back, he hits the concrete with a thud, grinning. And Satoru surges forward again, but Suguru’s already there—arm around his chest, pulling him back firmly.

“Hey. Hey—enough.”

But Satoru’s not done.

“You say another word,” he growls, fighting Suguru’s hold, “and I swear to God I’ll bury you so deep in the ground, your own fucking clan will forget you existed.”

With an exaggerated groan, Naoya lazily wipes the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Ouch…” he winces, looking up, grinning. “My poor lip… I don’t think the judge is gonna like this little outburst.”

Satoru freezes, and Naoya’s grin stretches—lip split in a red smile.

“What do you think?” he muses mockingly, pulling out a recording device from his pocket. “My daughter’s stepdad… threatening to kill me in a public park.” He tsks softly. “Not exactly a good look.”

Fuck.

Satoru’s stomach drops. For a second, he just stands there, breathing hard—eyes widening. Then, without thinking, he lunges—hand shooting toward the recorder, full of blind instinct.

“Give me that! You fucking—”

But Suguru’s arm is already across his chest, yanking him back hard.

“Alright,” he mutters sharply, “that’s enough. Let it go, Satoru.”

Rising from the ground, Naoya laughs softly, dusting off his pants.

“Aww… don’t be a sore loser,” he says lightly, holding the device up mockingly. “You gave me a gift.”

Satoru’s lips press together—he’s seething. But before he can say or do more, Suguru is dragging him by the arm, heading towards the limo.

“Right then, anyways,” Suguru shouts back, waving lazily. “See ya in court, Naoya. Good talk. Till next time.”

“Sure, sure,” Naoya calls after them, voice lilting. “And you should work on your temper Gojo!” He chuckles, waving. “Afterall, it looks bad in court. Especially for someone around a kid.”

ꨄ

The limo door slams shut—so hard even Ichiji flinches from the front seat.

“Fuck,” Satoru mutters, plopping into his seat. “Fucking fuck…”

With a flick of his wrist, he tosses his sunglasses across the console. Both hands rake through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

“This is bullshit…” he grits.

Exhaling through his nose, Suguru settles into the seat across from him with infuriating calm—folding one leg over the other, like he’s already miles past what just happened.

“You got blood on your cuff,” he says casually, nodding at Satoru’s sleeve.

Satoru’s gaze snaps up.

“I should’ve done more,” he growls. “Fucking prick. You heard what he said!”

“I did,” Suguru nods. “And so did your right hook. Pretty sure that’s why he was grinning through the blood.”

Groaning in defeat, Satoru runs both hands down his face.

“Shit…” he quiets. “I fucked that up…”

“Mmm… I wouldn’t go that far,” Suguru hums. Calm. Assured. “He had that punch coming. You just beat me to it.”

Peeking at him through his fingers, Satoru gives him a flat, exhausted stare.

“Dude… what the hell. You were supposed to stop me. Why didn’t you stop me?”

A slow grin tugs at Suguru’s mouth.

“You think I didn’t know he was baiting you?” he shrugs. “I figured you’d hit him. He figured you’d hit him.”

Satoru blinks. “…seriously?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, pulling a sleek black recorder from his inner jacket pocket. “Our version will hold up better in court.”

Satoru’s entire body stills. He stares down at the recorder like it’s divine intervention.

“…you were recording too?”

“I’m always recording,” Suguru replies smoothly, leaning back with a faint smile. “Especially when you’re involved.”

“Oh thank God…” Satoru’s expression softens with relief.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Suguru waves it off, shoving the recorder back in his pocket. “Your little death threat won’t matter much once the judge hears him call your wife a whore and a failed mother. Among other things.”

Satoru exhales, slumping further into the leather like all his tension has finally snapped free. His eyes close.

“…I owe you.”

“I know.”

“Like—big time.”

“You do.”

Cracking one eye open, Satoru mutters, “What do you want? Beer? Blood? My firstborn? I’ll sit through one of your 3 a.m. philosophy rants if that’s what it takes.”

Suguru’s grin widens, just slightly.

“Mmm… I’ll let you know when I think of something properly excruciating.”

Satoru huffs out a tired laugh, shaking his head.

“…thanks, man.”

ꨄ

As the limo’s tail lights disappear into the dark, Satoru stands still for a moment at the Gojo estate’s entrance, keys in hand, shoulders tight.

With a sigh, he pushes the front door open, greeted in stillness—the lights low, a soft flicker from the TV illuminating the living room in gentle color. You’re curled up on the couch, blanket tucked under your chin, eyes half-lidded as the glow washes over your face. Your hair’s a little messy, your feet barely peeking from under the throw, remote resting loosely in your hand.

You glance over as the door clicks shut behind him.

“Welcome home…” you say softly.

With a wry smile, Satoru takes a breath, like the sight of you has completely anchored him back to earth, knocking the tension out of his chest all at once.

You’re safe.

From the hallway, Nanami steps forward, hands in his pockets, as if he’d been standing quietly nearby this whole time. Watching. Not looming—just present.

“Hey…” he greets with a nod. “Haru’s asleep. No issues.”

Satoru drops his keys on the endtable. “Thanks…”

Glancing past him, Nanami’s eyes narrow on the still-closed front door briefly.

“So… everything handled?”

Satoru’s jaw tenses for a second. Then relaxes.

“Yeah…” he scratches the back of his head, shrugging. “More or less.”

“Great.” Nanami gives the barest nod. “I’ll be in my room, then.” He says, stepping back into the hallway. “Call if you need me.”

“Got it.”

And with that, Nanami disappears quietly down the hall.

Turning back to you, Satoru stands there for a beat, letting the silence wrap around him, drinking in the sight of you all cozy on the sofa. Then finally—with a soft grunt—he crosses to the couch and drops beside you, landing with a dramatic sigh, head lolling to the side to look at you with those vibrant blue eyes.

You peek over your blanket.

“…you okay?”

He smiles, tired. Lopsided.

“Yeah…” he mumbles. “Now I am.”

Shifting slightly, you lift the edge of the blanket in silent invitation, and he slides under without a word, settling in beside you, shoulders brushing. You feel the tension still clinging to him, like static.

“So…” you ask softly. “How’d it go?”

His head falls back, staring at the ceiling for a second.

“Well…” he sighs. “I only punched him once. So…” he shrugs. “Pretty good I guess.”

You blink. “Wait—you punched him?”

“Yup.”

“Like… in the face?”

He glances at you, deadpan. “Hard.”

You stare at him for a beat. “…was that part of the plan?”

He shrugs. “Define plan.”

You snort, but the edge of your smile fades as you see his expression doesn’t change—still flat, still tired. He’s spent.

“Mmm,” he sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly? You’re lucky I didn’t commit a felony. Fuck that guy.”

The way he says it—low, bitter, coiled with something deeper—makes your chest tighten. You don’t need to ask. You already know.

“That bad… huh?”

Exhaling again, his voice softens, like his words are slipping out without thinking.

“Yeah… I didn’t think he could piss me off more than he already did…”

Glancing over at him, you see he’s not joking anymore. He’s not even mad. He’s just quiet. And… tired.

“But, seeing it…” he goes on, barely above a murmur. “Hearing the way he talks about you. About Haru. Like none of it mattered. Like you don’t matter.” He shakes his head once, sharply. “I knew he was garbage. But now… I get it.”

Looking down, his jaw flexes.

“And… I hate that you had to live with that. Every day.”

You don’t speak right away—just slide your hand under the blanket and find his, fingers curling through his gently. You squeeze. He squeezes back.

“I… hated it too,” you whisper.

A silence settles between you—not heavy. Just full. Full of everything that doesn’t need to be said right now.

Then, after a beat, Satoru mutters:

“…next time I’m aiming lower.”

You snort. “Satoru…”

“What?” he says, mouth twitching into a grin. “I’ll break his fucking dick. Piece of shit.”

A surprised, soft laugh slips through your lips—but it tapers off too quickly. Because the weight of what’s happened—what he’s done—lands a little heavier now. The joke fades, and the silence that follows feels different.

Shifting, you adjust the blanket a little higher around your shoulder, voice dipping quieter.

“I… hate that you had to do this for me.”

Satoru’s brows lift slightly, turning to face you more fully.

“What? What are you talking about?” he says gently. “Sweetheart… I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

“Yeah…” you murmur. “I know.”

But your tone doesn’t lift. His smile slips, frowning.

“Alright… what’s going on in that pretty head of yours this time?” Nudging your leg with his knee, his brow furrows in concern. “Hey… look at me.”

You do, hesitantly, meeting his gaze.

“Well… it’s just…” you breathe out slowly. “You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess. He’s my past. My mistakes. And now you’re the one taking the hits for it. I guess I’m just feeling…. useless.”

Satoru’s expression softens.

“Hey now…” he says, voice dipping. “You’re not a mess, and you’re not useless. You didn’t cause any of this—he did. All you did was survive it.”

Blinking, your throat aches with a tightness that you try to swallow down.

“But… now he’s your problem too…”

He snorts, not unkindly, leaning in just a bit.

“Sweetheart…” he says, quiet but firm, “the second he said your name like it was something to spit out? He became my problem.”

Holding your gaze, his blue eyes shimmer, steady and certain.

“Because… you’re mine now. And no one talks about you like that. No one—you hear me?”

Your chest aches in that breathless, blooming kind of way—so full it almost hurts. And before you can stop yourself, before you can think, you’re leaning forward and kissing him.

The moment your lips meet, the tension bleeds from his body like steam. He sighs, inhaling as you’re tugging him closer, his hands finding your waist under the blanket. As your lips move, he begins to shift, groaning from the taste of you.

Your stomach flips as you chase that sound, and suddenly you can’t stop touching him. His breath hitches as your hands explore down his chest, across his stomach, the smooth ridges of his muscle beneath your fingers.

The moment you dip lower, cupping his dick through the fabric of his pants, he whines in your mouth.

“Fuck…” he mutters, hoarse and frayed. “Baby…”

He’s panting against your lips, twitching in your hand as you rub him gently, ocean blue eyes half lidded, framed through snowy lashes.

His hips are shifting underneath your touch, and you surge forward, kissing him harder, working him gently through his pants. It’s electric. Consuming. But then—

Just be good for me.

Freezing, your hand stills, and you break the kiss with a soft gasp—forehead leaning gently against his, breath trembling.

Immediately, he stills too.

“What is it…” he pants quietly, blue eyes searching your face, “…you okay?”

You nod. But it’s not convincing.

“I’m okay… I just…”

Trailing off, there’s a shake in your voice, and you hate it. Hate the way it trembles, hate that he can hear it. But he doesn’t press. He waits.

You’re not even sure how to describe it. The knot in your chest. The way your skin feels too tight for your body. The way the air still tastes like a memory you never asked to keep.

So you settle for, “Sorry… it’s stupid.”

His brows furrow.

“Nothing you feel is ever stupid.”

You glance down, fingers tracing the thick outline of his cock beneath the fabric of his pants. There’s heat there—real, tangible heat—but it’s not just lust. It’s this aching, burning need to give him something. To take care of him. Because he’s done everything for you. He’s seen every version of you—messy, scared, shut down—and never once flinched.

“I just…” you breathe, fingertips ghosting down his length, “…want to make you feel good.”

Satoru groans like you’ve just unraveled him. “Uh… you are?” he pants, eyes fluttering shut. A breathless laugh slips out. “Do you not feel how fucking hard I am right now just from kissing you?!”

Eyes flicking up, you still—holding onto the restraint burning through his gaze. Something wobbles inside you. Not from him, but from the voice that still whispers at the back of your mind.

Just be good for me.

You hate it. Hate how much power those words hold over you. Hate how they’ve sent you spiraling back into an old story you thought you had finally closed the book on. One panic attack, one flashback, and it was like you’d been dropped back into the hollowed-out shell he left you in. And yet—Satoru never looked at you like you were broken. He didn’t need you to shrink yourself to be lovable. He didn’t demand, didn’t take. He waited. He held you through it.

But what do you give the man who’s given you everything?

“What if… I disappoint you?” you whisper. “What if… I’m not good enough?”

Satoru’s expression softens in an instant. His hand lifts gently, brushing a knuckle along your cheek before cradling it in his palm.

“This again? Baby…” he murmurs, low and steady. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I’m not him.” His thumb sweeps across your jaw. “…you’re already everything I want. Whatever the fuck he expected of you, whatever he made you believe you were supposed to be… fuck that. I don’t want perfect. I want you—as you are. Smart, stubborn, brave as hell. You hear me?”

Your chest aches—so full it almost cracks. Because for the first time in so long, you feel seen. Fully. Not just the parts of you that shine under pressure. But the ones that tremble. That doubt. And this man—this beautiful, loving man—is yours.

Nodding, his hand falls away as you shift, and suddenly you’re easing yourself off the couch, sliding onto your knees in front of him.

“Oh, fuck.” Satoru stills, pupils darkening instantly.

“I just…” your fingers work the button of his slacks with a quiet click, “…wanna take care of you, Satoru.”

“Shit…” Satoru is so wrecked he’s trying not to combust. “Fucking hell… you on your knees for me? Fuck. I could die happy.”

You giggle, tugging his pants and briefs down just enough to free him—and when his cock springs out, thick and flushed, your breath catches.

“…God. You’re big.”

The moment the words slip out, you realize what you’ve said, face heating as your eyes flick up to meet his. And of fucking course—he’s smirking. White hair falling into his gaze as he tilts his head, looking down at you affectionately.

“Mmm… ‘course I am,” he hums, smug and glowing with amusement. “But please… keep the compliments coming.”

“Cocky shit…” you mumble, but your hand wraps around the base of him, your thumb brushing over the glistening tip—and Satoru hisses through his teeth.

“Oh, s-shit… fuck,” he groans, shifting his hips up into your touch. “Is this really happening right now?”

“You tell me?” you breathe, and then your tongue is dragging a slow stripe up the underside of his cock—from base to tip—collecting the pre that’s already dripping for you.

Satoru’s breath shudders. “Fucking hell…” he pants, head tipping back, fist curling into the cushion behind him like he’s hanging on for dear life.

And truthfully? He is.

Because as he’s looking down at you, legs spread on the couch, you on your knees for him, lips closing around his cock—fuck. It’s too much. You’re too much. Too good. Too goddamn much.

Your long lashes flutter as you look up at him, humming against him, dick jerking in your mouth while that skilled tongue laps and sucks him eagerly. He’s panting, mouth agape as he watches your head bob. You look so beautiful and filthy as the TV casts a blue muted glow behind you, and your hand strokes in tandem what you can’t fit in that pretty little mouth.

God, the warmth, the pressure, the sweet little hums and slurps dripping from your lips as you devour his dick—he can’t help it. He’s unravelling, needy, desperate moans spilling out of him as his breath shudders.

And the thing is, he’s biting his tongue so fucking hard right now he can taste blood. Because it would be so easy to say it right now.

 I love you.

But how the fuck could he say that right now? While his cock is in your mouth? What kind of dumbass confesses mid-blowjob!? And yet—how could he not feel it?

Satoru is cursing himself, because fuck… when the fuck is he supposed to tell you?! His mind is running a marathon, and his cock is throbbing in your mouth with the need to feed you every drop of his cum. The need to shove you down on his dick and paint that pretty tongue white. The need to bend you over, filling up your cunt with every inch of him, pounding that tight little pussy until it’s gushing and milking his cock, wringing out every sticky spurt of jizz until you’re filled to the brim. The lust, the passion, the love, he wants to give you everything,

You release him with a loud, wet pop, your hand stroking the mess he’s made of himself, each fap echoing in the quiet living room as your eyes flick up, searching his expression.

“You’re surprisingly quiet…” you murmur, rolling your thumb along his head. “Usually, getting you to shut up is the challenge.”

Now you’re looking at him all shyly again, and Satoru groans—deep and guttural, his hand scrubbing over his face like it’s the only way he’ll survive this.

“F-Fuck… y-yeah…” his breath hitches.

Tilting your head, your brow furrows sightly, but your hand keeps moving, massaging the weeping head of his cock with a slow, wet roll of your wrist.

“Is it… okay? Are you liking it?”

“W-What?! Of course I am. Are you kidding?” He blurts. “Shit—s-sorry, baby—I just… fuuuck—” another moan tears from his throat, because shit, forming words feels impossible. What the fuck is wrong with him? Bucking into your touch, his dick drools all over your hand. “Haaa…. ‘m just… t-trying not to embarrass myself…”

“…oh?” your lips curl with curiosity, your voice dipping into a smile as you press gentle kisses up the base of his shaft. “And… embarrass yourself how?” you murmur.

Satoru is whining, high and helpless as you find his head again, that cute pink tongue flicking out to tease the slit.

“B-Because I’m…” he grits out, voice cracking, “F-Fuck… s-shit… I’m just…” trying not to say something I’ll regret. “Nnnngh… trying not to cum in thirty fucking seconds. Fuck, you’re perfect—”

You pull off again, lips slick with spit, smiling all sweet and teasing as his cock twitches in your hand.

“Hmm…” you hum, pressing his dick against your cheek as you look up at him affectionately. “Thought you said you didn’t need perfect?”

God, but how are you so perfect? So his.

Inhaling sharply, he looks down, and he knows it. He’s so fucking gone for you. Loves you so much it’s stupid.

“I… don’t…” he breathes, fingers trembling as they brush back the messy strands of hair that have begun to cover your face, threading through your locks reverently. “But… somehow… I still got you.”

Nuzzling into the side of his cock, you’re grinning at him now, all smug and sweet. Fucking hell you’re going to ruin him.

“Then show me, ‘toru…” your lips brush his tip as you speak, “…how good I make you feel.”

And suddenly you’re hollowing your cheeks down on him, humming as he groans, instinctively gripping your hair as his head falls back.

“F-Fuuuck… oh shit…” he pants, voice thick and broken, cradling your head as you work his dick. “J-Just like that, baby… yeah, fuck… you look so fuckin’ pretty with your mouth full…”

His breath stutters, gaze dropping again to take you in—blue eyes glowing, watching you like he’s in a trance. He’s biting his lip so hard, trying to hold back all the pathetic moans threatening to rip from his throat.

Spit glistens on your chin, your lips stretch around him, gliding deeper—and fuck, it’s all he can do not to fall apart, watching every fucking inch of his cock disappear further and further.

It’s too good. He wants more. Needs more.

Groaning, his hips are twitching forward, shallowly thrusting, begging for you to take him deeper. He’s barely aware he’s doing it until you shift, adjust—and don’t stop him.

“S-Shit… can I—?” he rasps, gently tugging your hair. “Can I move? Fuck your throat a little?”

You nod without hesitation, eyes fluttering shut, humming as you reposition again in silent invitation. And that’s it. That’s all he fucking needs.

“Oh, fuck… fuck—okay,” he groans, cock throbbing, shifting his hips as he grips your head tighter. “Just… tell me if it’s too much, angel.”

He begins moving, rolling into your hot, wet mouth, and though his thrusts start slow, there’s nothing soft about the way he’s looking at you—jaw clenched, head tilted, snowy white hair falling into those pretty blue eyes. He’s whimpering, watching your lips stretch around his cock, spit stringing from your chin to his base as he feeds you more, more, more.

“Fuuuck—fuck, sweetheart—” Satoru’s losing his fucking mind, moaning whorishly, “That’s it… haaa… just like that,” his hips roll deeper, pace picking up. “Fucking hell… y-yes…your throat’s so fucking tight, baby—shit—”

Blinking, your hands brace tightly on his thighs, watching the way his abs begin to flex as he rocks into you. His dick is jerking, leaking sweet pre all over your tongue, holding your head as he thrusts deeper into that hot willing mouth.

“S-Shit…” he pulls you off, blue eyes blazed with pleasure, giving you a moment to breathe. “’m not gonna last much longer…” he murmurs, cock twitching up, soaked in front of your face. “Where you want my cum baby?”

Shifting, you pant, eyes flicking up at him. “My mouth…” you breathe, opening wide for him again, and Satoru’s cock jerks up immediately.

“Ohmygod…” he groans, shoving you back down on him, taking on a pace that’s anything but sane. “Yesss… haaa… good girl… hungry fucking girl…” he’s babbling now, thrusting faster, spit dripping outside the corner of your lips as you let him chase his pleasure. “T-Take it… nngh… fuck. I love…”

You.

Satoru growls, internally kicking himself, taking that frustration out on your pretty mouth.

“I… fuck… love your mouth so fuckin’ much…” he grits.

His cock is slamming into you again and again, and the sounds are obscene—wet, messy, lewd. His hips are unrelenting, but you brace yourself, taking him, eyes fluttering, tears building as you look up at him through wet lashes.

God, he’s panting, whining, whimpering, completely lost in you, looking down at you like you fucking hung the stars.

But the moment you gag, he immediately stills, stuttering. “S-Shit—sorry—fuck—you okay?” he pants, brows furrowing, looking at you like he’s afraid he broke you.

You pull back, nodding, giving yourself a moment, and then, just as eagerly, you’re pushing yourself back down on him, down to the hilt—and he swears you just ripped the air out of his fucking lungs.

“F-Fucking… god,” he chokes, watching with wild eyes as you take it again. “You’re… unreal. What the fuck…”

Whimpering, he’s desperate now, gripping you tightly as he thrusts vigorously. “That’s it… yes, baby… yes…” your throat is clicking, spit dripping from your lips, “Sucha good girl… take my cock… fuuuck…” he’s unraveling, cock so hard it hurts. “You’re too fucking good—‘m close—’m… fuckfuckfuck—gonna cum—"

And suddenly he’s burying himself deep, gasping and whining as hot spurts of creamy cum spill down your throat, fingers tightening as he keeps you there, hips stuttering with every pulse as the sticky thick mess floods your mouth.

And you takeit. All of him. Blinking back tears, moaning as you swallow every fucking drop. It’s only when he finally stills, that you pull back—his cock slipping from your lips with a lewd, wet pop.

He’s staring down at you, completely wrecked in the best way—chest rising and falling, mouth parted, eyes wide and glassy with awe.

“Wow, Satoru…” you hum, smiling all coy, licking your lips slowly as you breathe through your nose. “That was… a lot of cum.”

“Oh my fucking god…”

His voice comes out like a whisper and a whimper all at once. His brain is still buffering—trying to reboot after the holy experience you just put him through. Dragging a shaky hand down his face, he blows out a disbelieving laugh.

“You… wow. You actually swallowed… all of it.”

Giggling, you drag your hand up his thigh, fingers brushing, watching the way he twitches under your touch.

“I told you…” you smile softly, nuzzling against his thigh, eyes gleaming affectionately. “I… wanted to take care of you.”

And god—Satoru swears he might ascend. If only you knew how you make him feel. Huffing, he shakes his head in awe.

“C’mere you…” he’s tugging you up gently, urging you into his lag, and you go easily, straddling his thighs as his arms wrap around you, holding you flush to his chest.

You can feel his heart thudding heavy as you settle against him, and you shift, burying yourself against his neck.

“Feel better…?” you murmur softly, fingers combing through the soft mess of his white hair.

“Better?” a breathless laugh slips out, catching in his throat as he tries to collect himself. “Yeah… that’s the understatement of the century,” he exhales hard, then adds, “I think I might’ve just seen the face of God… with your lips.”

You snort into his shoulder, giggling, and he chuckles too—low and husky, the sound vibrating through your body. But even as he smiles, his grip on you stays tight. Steady. Anchored.

Because you don’t realize it—but this? This is everything. His expression softens, his heart aches so much as the thought replays over, and over in his head.

I’m so in love with you.

It hits him like a train—again, fresh and full and terrifying. Like it’s the first time he’s realizing it all over again. You’ve stripped him bare, pulled every shield from his body with a touch, a look, a laugh. He cherishes you so damn much.

And that’s the scariest, most beautiful thing of all.

“I’m so fucked…” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

“Hm?” pulling back slightly, you’re blinking up at him. “…fucked how?”

He meets your eyes—and for a second, everything softens. The whole world slows. He could say it. Right now. Just open his mouth and say it. But…

“Oh… y’know, just…” he exhales shakily, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Really, really fucking into you…” he says instead.

And god, he means it.

“…yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah…” he nods, sighing. “Like… no-coming-back, kind of into you.”

Your smile spreads, soft and full of warmth. And as you curl into him, your head rests against his shoulder.

“Me too…”

The moment quiets, settling between you in a hush of breathless heartbeats. And as he holds you close, arms protective and sure, pressing his cheek to the crown of your head, his mind begins to turn.

He’s going to do everything—everything—in his power to keep you safe. To keep you happy. To ensure, you are always here, in his arms. Because if he ever lost you…

No.

Shaking his head, he shoos that thought away, out of existence. He’s not even going to entertain it.

And then, after a minute, he begins to shift, murmuring low against your hair.

“C’mon…” he’s rising from the couch, lifting you up bridal style as he stands. “Let’s clean up… and head to bed.”

Nodding, you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you away—your body melting against his. Neither of you say the words sitting unsaid in your chest. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

I love you.

a/n. hello my lovelies!! it's been foreverrrrr... i know. thanks for your patience with this chapter. i unforch had to go back to work full time, whilst still being in school 🤪 so it feels like i've had NO time. but, once this semester is over my writing should pick back up. this chapter definitely challenged me. i was worried how you guys would feel about the violence, but alas... that's what the yakuza do. all i can say is if you don't like it, you can chose not to read it! 🤷‍♀️ but as ya'll can probably see, this story is definitely taking a turn... the plot is heating up. nanami has joined the battle! he's so sweet with little haru. i'm gonna have so much fun with the plans i have for his character, hehe 🥰 satoru in the car with suguru... *sigh* 😌 this man is literally so smitten for reader it's too damn cute. my heart can't take it. i've decided to reopen this taglist! if you want to be tagged and you're not on it, lmk. i would love to hear all your thoughts and theories with this chapter, and as always, tysm for reading guys. i love you all sm 🫶🏻 → you are currently all caught upꨄ

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[meowforluv]

WAHHHHH

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter Six ‘What Feels Right’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warnings - Discussion of medical issues, physical health problems, exhaustion leading to physical pain, skin rashes, muscle pains, extreme pain, overworking, fatigue, a lot of angst, scruffing, a/b/o dynamic usage and mentions, less conscious minds? a lot of fluff too, please lmk if there’s anything to add xx

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

Author Notes - It’s finally here! 17.5k words and a whole lot of it is angst but it’s PLOT RELEVANT, it was needed im sorry.

This was meant to be 49% angst and 51% fluff but it kind of ended up with majority angst, a good amount of fluff and a lot of hidden fluff so you have to pick out the small moments too 💖💜

I do really love the development in this chapter, I worried it didn’t quite fit very well and that some things moved too fast but I think it’s somewhat okay now after editing.

Why am I noting down ideas for 15 chapters in the future like whole multiple chapters plots already 😭

Your back’s been absolutely killing you today, sharp rushes of pain shooting through it every time you bend even a little, and to add to it all, it’s slowly travelling down your legs as well. Assuming it’s just a pulled muscle or that you slept on it funny, you power through and ignore it, also ignoring the way your skin begins to itch and feel hot and sensitive against your jeans and t-shirt.

Closing doesn’t go as usual; you have a whole lot of prep to do, so you end up staying a few hours later than usual, your process significantly slowed by the way your back and the rest of your body kept locking up and stopping you mid-task.

Finally, time to go home. You head straight to the convenience store because you sure as hell won’t be going back out after you get home, body spent. You barely manage to pull a smile onto your face, greeting Mrs.Han as another wave of pain shoots through your back, nearly stumbling straight into a display before you catch your footing. She assumes you tripped and scolds you for being clumsy, but you can hardly hear it, your mind distant.

Jungkook would tell himself he hasn’t purposefully been avoiding you; that’s a lie though. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, just avoiding the cafe, but on this particular night, he felt pulled to go to the store, convinced he was craving ramen, so on he went, walking in and bowing to Mrs.Han before aiming to go down the ramen aisle.

Your scent fills his nose instantly, and he tenses, thinking back to how he reacted to Jimin and frowning; internally, his alpha is just begging him to suck it up and accept it, and it’s not like he can walk straight back out, so he doesn’t; he’s going to push down what happened and be in control. A twitch of his nose makes him frown. your scent isnt as sweet as usual. Sure, its usually a little mild or ever so slightly tart from your exhaustion but this… The pastry of your scent smells burnt; your strawberry’s so tart its almost sharp, and then he spots you, sees the tremor of your hand as you reach out to grab your ramen, the slight bending of your back forward because you can’t stand straight right now.

Jungkook is frozen; he doesn’t know what’s making your scent so negative. He puts it down to just heavy exhaustion at first. His spring rain and fresh laundry scent dances through your nose; you follow it and see him standing at the beginning of the aisle. The pain seems to let up for a minute, so you try to straighten out and give him a smile; he returns it after a moment, walking over and also choosing his ramen.

The rest of your usual pick-and-go is as usual: standing outside and waiting for him. Jungkook comes out as energetic as ever, forgetting the whole Jimin incident momentarily, smiling and gesturing for you both to walk towards your apartment.

“How have you been, Y/n?” - Is the first thing Jungkook asks; he hasn’t seen you in a while, obviously, so it only feels right; you’re merely a few steps into the walk.

“I’ve been g- agh-” - The words get knocked right out of your chest, a pain so strong shooting from your neck down to your legs making you stumble, gasping for breath and trying to throw your hand back to grasp your back, but it only makes it worse. Jungkook is stunned, hands moving before his mind to stabilise you and looking over you, you are entirely shaking and your mind is hazy, somewhere else, hot to the touch and slowly losing the strength in your legs, about to fall to the ground.

Your whimper puts him in motion instantly; his arm wraps around your front, not allowing you to fall but also not forcing you upright since he saw how you were standing in the shop; his alpha is practically begging him to get you somewhere safe, into a nest, but his brain overpowers him just for a moment. It's a 10, maybe 15-minute walk to your apartment, and that's if you can even make it there, and it's a 3-minute drive to Pack's home, and his car is right behind you guys. The option he chose is clear.

You’re like a puppet, limbs numb apart from the searing pain that’s bringing tears to your eyes now, face scrunched as you try and wait for it to pass, but it’s not passing fast enough; you can hardly breathe, but you know it’s not the kind of pain to go to the hospital for; there’s no actual strain on your lungs or heart; it’s entirely physical and just feels like extremely intense muscle pain and surface pain.

Jungkook isn’t making you take a single step; he can’t listen to your heartbreaking whimpers for a second longer, and although he knows you’re in pain, he apologises under his breath and sets his arm under your thighs, one under your back, apologising over and over as he lifts you bridal style into his arms, knowing he’s putting pressure on the pain but this is the most efficient way to get you into his car.

You’re hunched over yourself when he sets you down, hands moving quickly to do your seatbelt, and you can’t hear his quiet reassurance, telling you it’s going to be okay, to just hold on.

Jin will know what to do; one of his hyungs will know what to do… right? His alpha is telling him not to take you to the hospital, that it isn’t what you need, and for once, he listens. There's a lone tear slowly following down your cheekbone, and your entire body is trembling trying to fight through the pain. Jungkook is off before you know it, quietly keeping reassuring you, but you can’t think about it; you can’t think about where you are going or how long it takes; every minute feels like 100 anyway.

Jungkook pulls into the carpark and rushes to your door, gently undoing your seatbelt, and he’s just a tiny bit relieved to see you trying to steady your breathing, praying that means it’s slowly passing. You barely respond besides leaning into his arms as he whisks you into his hold again, closing the door behind him with his body and jumping straight in the elevator, punching in the house code, and he’s actually glad for the fast lift-—it often makes him nauseous, but today, it’s worth it.

He’s only seeing a singular path, no attention to anyone around him nor the shouts of confusion from the members as he practically sprints to his room, careful not to jostle you and only moving faster when you whimper again, tensing against him, hand gripping his t-shirt so hard your knuckles have lost the blood in them.

“‘Ts okay ‘mega, it’s okay…” - Is all he keeps repeating as he sets you down on his bed like you are glass, letting his alpha take over to rush to his closet, that extreme order of pillows and blankets and all things soft being vital right now, pulling out blanket after blanket and pillows and piling them around your curled body. You look tiny and frail on his bed, and he lets out a whimper of his own, his own hands shaking as he deposits as many pillows and blankets as he can around you, a makeshift nest if anything.

You’re twitching through it now, the warmth welcomed and helping, gripping onto a pillow he puts in front of you; even if your body is feverish, the heat provided by the nest he tried to make around you seems to help. It washes away a layer of the pain until you’re at least able to move your limbs and find yourself gripping the back of your own t-shirt. Taking deep inhales of the scent flushing around you, soothing something deep inside you.

Jungkook’s a mess, his hair messed up where he’s pulled at it and his breathing heavy, standing there not knowing what to do next now that he’s built you a nest and got you to the safest place he could think of in his mind, his alphas pushing at him to come over and wrap you into his arms, to hold you through the pain and to scent you into that fuzzy headspace, convincing him it will take away the pain, but he refuses to do that; instead, he finds himself calling out.

“Hyung- hyung please” - He doesn’t know what hyung he is calling out for but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second; he walks towards you and when he’s standing at the edge of the bed, you reach your hand out, eyes closed and grip onto the corner of his shirt, refusing to let go, face scrunched in pain, not that Jungkook would have made you let go anyway. He doesn’t have to call out twice; in an instant, there are rushing footsteps and multiple people bounding through his door, summoned by the strong distress flooding the hall and Jungkook’s borderline cries.

The first to come in are Seokjin and Namjoon, who saw him rushing in with you in his arms, beelining for his bedroom. They can’t even see you until they walk closer; they can only see your arm poking out because Jungkook had piled the border of his bed so much with all the nesting materials. It’s a little scruffy, of course it is- he’s never had to make a nest before, but that hardly matters.

The room smells burnt and makes their noses scrunch as they get closer; your scent burnt and Jungkook is stormy; he’s stressed; they can see it before they see you. Once they get in close enough to see you, Jungkook spins the top of his body, growling at them and then dropping it with a hurt expression, muttering out apologies; they don’t mind; they understand; he hadn’t meant to; he’s simply being protective.

Seokjin looks over you, curled up on Jungkook's bed, and tries to work out what’s wrong. You have a light sheen of sweat covering your skin, and the more your t-shirt sticks to your back, the more you whimper and try to pull it back.

Namjoon is distraught, running his hands through his hair; the first thing that goes through his mind is the possibility of you being in heat, and he curses under his breath.

Seokjin goes to the other side of Jungkook, stands next to him, and crouches down until you open your eyes and make eye contact with him, filled with tears and so clearly in pain it hurts his heart.

“Where does it hurt, sweetheart?” - He speaks as calmly as he can; your answer will pretty much tell him whether you’re going into heat or not. He’s probably the most levelheaded of the pack and has the most experience with omegas too.

You can hardly speak, letting out a half whimper as you try to respond and just keep pulling at the t-shirt on your back; it’s where it all started anyway, and you really hope he understands; he does.

“I’m just going to have a look, okay?” - He says, and you nod, burying your face into a blanket and gripping Jungkook’s shirt even tighter, tugging him until his legs are flush with the bedframe. Jungkook wants to pet your head to soothe you, but he can’t- doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

Seokjin rounds the bed until he’s on the other side, and he curses when he can already see a slither of your skin at the top of your jeans where the t-shirt is pulled away. He has to gently pry away your hand from it, and instantly your hand is flying forward to find something else to hold onto.

Seokjin has to carefully push your shoulder so that you’re more lying on your front than on your side, and when he pulls up your shirt to just below your bra clasp, Jungkook whines low and distraught. Seokjin immediately curses at the once small patches of rash that have spread down your spine and your waist; he imagines it goes down your hips too, but his hands reach up and pull at the collar of your shirt instead, finding them all the way up to your neck.

Your body is finally fully fighting back; it’s been giving you warnings for a while about how far you’re overworking yourself, but now, your omega is physically stopping you from pushing anymore. They can see your muscles spasming and tensing as a new wave of pain rushes through you; this time it’s less intense, and you don’t do more than squeeze Jungkook’s shirt and his hand, which- you don’t know when you found but somewhere along the way.

Seokjin rubs the back of his hand so softly across the small of your back, feeling how your skin is burning; he absolutely would have thought you were in heat had he not seen this and known enough about omegas.

He pulls away, hands running through his hair and cursing once again. Jungkook looks at him for guidance, confusion and concern written all over his face. Namjoon had stood by the door and stopped the others from coming in, just for a minute, until they knew what was wrong.

“Namjoon, can you go get her a shirt, something soft and oversized- and I mean, soft- infact take Jimin with you” - Is the first thing Jin calls out, the two in question running instantly, not caring whose shirt it is, just finding something that suits the criteria; they settle for one of Yoongi’s since his room is closest; the fabric is Jimin approved, and by the time they come back, Jin has already sent Hoseok off to get something for him too.

“Theres a white and pink tub of cream in my bathroom cabinet; you’ll know its the one when you see it. bring me that.” - Jin told him and Hoseok went and found it.

“Im sorry…” - You try to get out, breathy and low, and Jungkook and Jin’s heads snap to you. Not that Jungkook took his eyes away for a second, Jungkook whines at your apology- it’s far from necessary, and Jin brushes it off, telling you you shouldn’t be sorry- even though he will be having a chat with you about the cause of this sometime later.

When Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok are back and in the room, their eyes widen at the sight of you, the back of your shirt still pulled up a little bit and the younger two freeze, Hoseok grabbing the shirt from them and walking straight over to hand the items to Seokjin hastily.

Seokjin puts a hand on your face, turning you to face him and grabbing your attention, feeling the heat under them too and frowning at the tears hitting his fingers.

“Do you think you can change into this shirt, sweetheart? This is too tight” - He gestures to the one you're wearing, and you nod a little, trying to move up but shaking too much. Jungkook is instantly helping you to sit up, waiting until you're steady, and you still haven't let go of his shirt. Seokjin ushers everyone out, including himself but when he tries to get Jungkook out, you grip onto his shirt a little tighter and look down, speaking through your haze, clearly led by your omega

“Stay, please just… turn” - And Jungkook obliges in an instant, nodding whilst Seokjin huffs and gives him a pointed look. You let go only for a second, and when the door closes, you start to try and pull off your shirt, gasping and whining muffled, but it has Jungkook clutching his own shirt to not turn around and just help.

The fabric of the shirt is so soft, it’s oversized and doesn’t cling to you anywhere, long enough that it would reach your thighs, but you keep your jeans on obviously. It feels a little better already, but maybe that’s because it’s drenched in Yoongi’s scent, the warmth of the whisky and leather so appealing, and despite all your pain, your omega is purring.

“Done…” - Is all you say before Jungkook is spinning around again and looking over you as if you would have gotten more injuries, then he calls for Seokjin again, and he’s rushing in, picking up the cream and looking at where you sit curled in on yourself, scent still burnt, but there’s a tinge of sweetness added to it, a little bit of comfort.

“This cream will help soothe your rash a little; is it okay if I put some on your back?” - Jin stays a good distance until you nod and he lifts your shirt, Jungkook holding it at your shoulders for you, trying not to whimper himself at the full extent of the rashes, and although he knows it can’t be the sole part of your pain, the way you were twitching and tensing so randomly hints it’s deeper than just your skin; this will at least help a little, he hopes.

The first touch of the cold cream on your back from Jin’s fingers makes you twitch and then sigh; pushing back into his hand, it works instantly to cool down the area but at another rush of pain in your muscles You tense again, curling impossibly closer to yourself until your head is touching the bed, legs still crossed in your lap but completely curled over.

Seokjin frowns at the other pain you're experiencing, also seeing how the rash follows deeper than the band of your jeans and that it’s under the back of your bra too.

“Y/n, can I unclasp this?” - He asks, gently touching the clasp, and you nod, trying to pass through another wave of pain. As soon as he’s popped open the back of your bra, you let out a little puff of relief, no longer any pressure around your back at all, and Jin continues to rub the cream the whole way up to the nape of your neck, where he hesitates, a thought coming to mind.

Scruffing could help numb the rest of the pain; he couldn’t possibly do it without your permission, but if you did want that, it’s a solution, even if only temporary.

“Does that feel a little better?” - You can only nod into the bed. Jungkook replaces the shirt down your back, and you roll onto your side so you can curl up even more. You reach out again, and Jungkook is quick to get closer, hovering over the border of the nest so you can reach his shirt and hold it again, somewhat becoming a staple of comfort in the short time you have been in this state. Jungkook is gnawing at his lip, so worried it’s killing him.

“Still hurt?” - Jin asks with a frown when you tense again, and you breathlessly try to respond, stuttering over your words.

“U-under my skin” - He knows what you’re trying to say; when he’s about to suggest something, Jungkook reaches out and puts a hand flat on your back, and to their surprise, you go boneless, sighing out in relief. The touch has your omega chanting ‘alpha, alpha, alpha’ in your mind, and you don’t even understand it yourself, but the scents and touch and nesting seem to ease the pain a little.

“You need to rest Y/n, your bodys protesting from the inside out.” - Jin frowns and you sigh out, nodding, never thinking it would get to this point and then you realise where you are… Opening your eyes and looking around, Jungkook’s hand is gently rubbing your back, and it’s blissful and painless.

“I should get home- i’m sorry for this…” - You get out, frowning when your omega protests your words and practically screams at you; a surge of pain, lighter than the others, flows again. You try to hide it, try not to tense, but they can see it.

“I don’t think thats a good idea sweetheart…” - Jin regretfully tells you but he won’t go against your wishes; he won’t hold you here, but god, he wants to. It’s late at night; this sort of pain has been long in the making, and he’s certain you shouldn’t be alone.

“I have to get back; i have work in the morning…” - Jungkook snarls and Jin scoffs; you tense below them, and they soften their approach, but you can’t go to work tomorrow; it’s out of the question, not like this.

“What you need is to take a break; work can wait” - You want to protest, but your omega immediately purrs at his words, agreeing with the suggestion, and you think back to not only your friends telling you to listen but also to Dr.Kim’s worry and disapproval. One day should be okay…

“I don't think it will help for you to be alone right now, just try to rest here, atleast for now? We can stay with you, or we will be right outside if you need anything” - Jin tells you. You purse your lips, not wanting to hold them here, but… are you on Jungkook’s bed? You look around and finally notice his efforts to build a nest around you, your purrs becoming audible, and then you slap a hand over your mouth in horror of yourself, only to be hit with another surge of pain at your refusal.

Jungkook looks at Jin for help, pleading silently to do something, his alpha knowing that something can be done even if he refuses to do it himself. Jin sighs, holding his breath before finally suggesting what his alpha has been nagging him to.

“Have you ever been scruffed?” - He asks, and you furrow your brows; of course you know what it is, but you aren’t aware of why he’s asking. Jungkook goes wide-eyed, knowing where Jin is going with this and looking at him in shock.

“Not since i was a child,” - You tell him, still confused on why thats relevant; you watch him hold his breath

“If its your omega causing the pain, which… i think it is… i could scruff you to settle it all” - He's referencing both the pain and your omega, and you think over it; you haven't been scruffed since you were a very young pup. No idea what it would do to your mind now, but you know he's right; it’s your omega causing the pain; that’s why you won’t see a doctor about it.

“With your teeth?” - You ask hesitantly. Seokjin goes bright red and laughs a little whilst Jungkook looks away, a small smile on his face.

“No-no- with my hands” - You breathe out in a little relief and think over it, considering declining, but your omega clearly doesn’t like that because once again, you tense up with another small surge of pain in warning, your omega telling you to let him scruff you, and so you take a deep breath and nod. It's hard to think about just why your omega is happy letting them see you so vulnerable when you're in constant pain. He looks a little surprised, having thought you’d decline after your silence.

“Is that okay?” - You ask Seokjin, not wanting him to do so if he is at all against it because it really is an intimate thing; only packs, families and mates scruff eachother…

“Yeah, if you want me to” - He gives you an encouraging smile, and you nod once again, telling him you want him too, and he lets out a huff, even more so when Jungkook reaches over, his hand leaving your back and brushing your hair off the back of your neck, fingertips grazing your neck and making you shiver. Anticipation has you gnawing at your lip, walking straight into the unknown, praying, trusting that this will help.

Seokjin puts one knee on the bed, just outside the ‘border’ of the nest, and asks you one more time if this is okay; you nod and bare your neck even more. He has to look away for a moment as his alpha tries to make him growl in approval. His fingers hover over your nape, then come down, pinching the sensitive skin there; you tense and gasp, and then he pulls, and you are boneless and limp for a moment, and he pulls off as soon as he’s sure.

Jungkook watches it happen with complete interest; his alpha is finally sated as you slowly blink, and a small smile settles over your face. You were only boneless for a moment before you sit up, a little shaky and a little wobbly, and two sets of hands shoot out to stabilise you, but you only giggle a little, eyes glossed over, grabbing one of each of their hands and tugging. You're a little giggly, dopey if there was a way to describe it, a little less present just somewhere in your mind that feels intoxicating, incredible.

Theres not a single ounce of pain in your body, a first in a long time but you also feel like a passenger in your own mind- its not bad its, really, really nice… When you’re scruffed, your omega comes to the front of your mind, guiding your every action, and your conscious brain gets to sit back and have everything that feels good and right come to you. It’s unfamiliar and you’ll surely regret atleast a bit of your shamefree, forward behaviour later but this is so much better than being in pain.

You're hazy and a bit incoherent, but you're persistent, tugging the two alphas towards you with a bit more force, and Seokjin has to stabilise himself with a knee on the bed, looking at you in shock and a bit of amusement, his alpha grumbling happily at you trying to get them closer.

“C’mere,” - You say, slurred because when your omega surfaces, theres very little chance of full, coherent sentences. Your omega is convinced these two alphas are supposed to be closer, supposed to also be within the comfortable edges of the bed, not in any sort of suggestive way- in a way you deem they should also be comfortable, that you trust them, to be close and feel they should relax, their scents still negative. You tug them just once more after you say it, and they oblige quickly, sitting at the edges of the ‘nest’ ah yes- the nest…

Not a second later your throwing yourself back and they flinch, going to stabilise you but you don’t need it; you’re fluffing the pillows and blankets around the headboard and then continuing all the way around, kind of just pushing them this way and that way to get where you need to be. You’re a bit clumsy, but there’s no denying that you’re precise, and when it’s all finished, you purr, loud and unfiltered.

The two alphas kind of just watch you, don’t care for how you are pushing them around, and are more just enthralled with your behaviour, smiles on their faces because you’re no longer in pain, and this… side of you settles something deep within them; if you were to ask them to jump right now, they’d just ask how high.

When you’re finished, you just lay back, relax and this time, you don’t curl up; in fact, you half lay on your side, but for the most part, you lay belly up and Jungkook can’t draw his eyes away, his hand twitching to protectively lay his hand there until Jin swats him, scolding him for his thought just by reading his eyes. You finally smell happy, sweeter than usual, a lot sweeter than usual, and they are both taking heaps of breaths in of your scent, and as you watch them do so, your hands clumsily find your neck; they lean in curious, and then you pull off the scent blocker patches and the ones on your wrist too, omega clearly not satisfied with the restriction. Jungkook goes stiff, and then he goes boneless, dropping down to lie at the bottom of the nest, lazily blinking and inhaling so deeply, holding onto his own clothes so that he doesn’t seek out the source of the scent yet again; it’s so hard though, but he keeps that little bit of lucidity, grips onto it. He feels drowsy, happy and drowsy, inhaling deeper and deeper and sinking further into that bliss.

Jin jolts, pupils dilating to the max just like Jungkook and you, and while he doesn’t go down like Jungkook, he does take a deep inhale and go stiff, chest erupting in grumbles. You look at them both, Jin sitting up, Jungkook lying down and giggling, happy with the effects of your scent, their own tensions leaving their shoulders, and then you feel sleepy, so so sleepy, stretching your body out, your feet nudging Jungkook's as he looks at you lazily and happily, a dopey, puppylike smile on his face and boba eyes. You’re happy and fluttering your scent around them to lull them into that same state; it draws Jungkook somewhere more instinctual, hence his actions.

Jin tries to catch his breath and then looks over at you two and spots an issue that needs to be resolved before you go to sleep. You and Jungkook are both wearing jeans, and as he gets up to confront that issue, you spark back awake, a frown settling on your face, and you whine so quietly he nearly drops down to lay in the nest as well, choking on his own breath, and Jungkook perks wide and alert as well.

“You both need to change before you sleep- jeans” - Seokjin points at both of your legs and you comply, easily sitting up and Jin gets up and out of the nest, much to your disapproval, rushing to Jungkook’s closet and picking out two soft pairs of pyjama bottoms. He guides you on wobbly legs into Jungkook’s bathroom to change and urges Jungkook to change quickly before you come back. He does, hardly getting up, throwing his jeans on the floor and throwing on the pyjama bottoms, sort of just rolling about after, flopped in the nest and breathing in your scent deep whilst Seokjin shakes his head at his clouded alphaspace behaviour.

In the bathroom you stumble about, clumsily shifting off your jeans and breathing in relief when they are off, then you feel something brush against your breast and realise- oh-—your bra is unclasped. To your defence, you do try to reclasp, but after a few huffing attempts, you clumsily unthread it from the shirt completely foregoing it; the shirts thick anyway and you'll bundle under blankets too.

You do bring the trousers up to your nose in your own company- not that your omega would have minded having company whilst you shamelessly inhaled Jungkook's scent; his room is so full of him it's overwhelming in the best possible way. Holding them out, the legs are far too long for you and against your better - conscious - judgement, you - your omega - decides to just forego these well. You’ll be under a blanket anyway and the shirt is more like a dress ending near your knees, you worry you would simply trip in the trousers.

Thats how you stumble out, your jeans: bra hidden within them because at least your omega respected your sanity enough to do that, and the pajama pants in your hands, placing them gently by the bed and then darting into the nest before Seokjin can process anything-

Jungkook isn’t much help either as he happily grumbles and rubs his wrists and head all over the blankets around him, drowning in your scent mixed with his while you get comfortable and then just flop, throwing a blanket over Jungkook before yourself, kind of kicking it into place with a giggle, hitting his shin and ankle a bit clumsily, but he doesn’t mind one bit and then throwing one over yourself too, and within seconds you’re out, your body in complete relaxation.

It was a mere 10 minutes from you being scruffed to you being completely out, and Seokjin kind of just had to sit back in shock, turning towards Jungkook to say, Let's go now, but to his dismay, he was also fast asleep. In fact, when Seokjin approaches, his lips lift in a soundless snarl and his hand reaches out, holding your ankle, palm over the scent gland there protectively even in his sleep. You purr so loud at the contact that it shocks Jin out of his blatant disbelief and staring

The door slowly opens behind him, 5 heads comedically peaking through and Jin quickly urges them not to make any noise, the only noises in the room being your purrs and Jungkook’s grumbling; the scent nearly knocks the five of them out, kind of all piled on top of each other to get a peak before they stumble in.

Initially, they are filled with pure concern, scared they will come in and you’ll still be curled up in pain but thats… not what they find…

You have fluffed up all the edges of the bed and all its nesting materials to make a sweet nest, pulled a blanket over yourself, and are sleeping with only Yoongi’s shirt - not that they know that exact detail - and a happy smile on your lips, and Jungkook is slowly curling closer and closer around your body. You began in kind of an upside-down T position, Jungkook sideways along the bottom of the bed, but now he has moved and you are in more of a J position, Jungkook bent in half and curled around your ankles, not that you mind; the more contact you have, the louder your purrs get.

The 5 new additions stand in pure shock, mouths agape at the turn in events and turn to Seokjin questioningly: What kind of magic did he work…

“I scruffed her, and she took off her scent blockers, and then Jungkook… ” - He references Jungkook holding onto your ankles protectively, rubbing his neck against them, and scenting you in your sleep whilst you smile and slightly wiggle, his hairs ticklish but never pulling away.

The boys look at Jin incredulously; Jimin and Yoongi go to take a step even closer, and Jin shoots his arms out, stopping them.

“She might pull you in and then wake up with alphas she didnt consciously invite in with her-” - They stop dead in their tracks because, as much as the idea of you inviting them into your nest is absolutely incredible, not when you're asleep.

They take a few more moments to look before Taehyung yawns, suddenly feeling tired, alongside the others, slowly realising your pheromones are easing them into a sleepier, more relaxed state, so they quietly vacate the room to talk.

All spread out on the couches in the living room, they try to wake themselves up a little, turning to Jin for a full explanation.

“To put it simply, i think her omega is fighting the workload she puts on herself.” They all frown, borderline growling and snarling at the thought of you being in that kind of state because of your body being overworked, a concept they are highly familiar with, and highly familiar with the consequences but they can’t even imagine the consequences for an omega… Well they kind of can now, seeing it firsthand.

“I didn’t even get the story of what happened; Jungkook wasn’t exactly… present but she was in a lot of pain, skin irritated all over her back and, im guessing, extreme internal pains but the more she listened to her instincts, or the more her omega came to surface, should i say, the less pain she was in so i asked her if she wanted me to scruff her… thats what happened after.” - Jin references back to Jungkook’s room

“What about tomorrow?” - Yoongi asks knowing you wouldn't happily give up your schedule, wouldn't listen to their advice to rest a little usually. Aside from that he's not able to push out the image of you in his shirt, a little sense of pride and satisfaction settling in, alpha convinced it's helping you to have his scent and clothes.

“I told her she can’t go in tomorrow; she’s not happy about it but…”

“But has she told anyone?” - Namjoon knows you arent the only one who works there but you run the place and do the baking so…

“Maybe we should wake her up now to tell someone and then let her go back to sleep” - Jimin suggests, the rest of them agreeing.

They know you'll probably be distressed and you can't just not say anything to anyone and not show up to work, they've met your friends, your co-workers, and have seen your friendship, know you're close.

Taehyung and Jimin agree to be the ones to do it, going into Jungkook's room and slowly approaching, but Taehyung suggests they wake up Jungkook to wake you up rather than you having two alphas who weren't originally there waking you up.

“Jungkook…” - Taehyung shakes Jungkook, watching his face contort and then slowly open his eyes

“Kookie can you wake her up…” - Jimin asks, nodding towards you, Jungkook just closes his eyes, wraps his arms tighter around your ankles

“No.” - Firm and certain, Jungkook blatantly refuses, or rather, his alpha refuses

“But we need to-” - Taehyung tries to reason, getting a little hazy at being so close to your full scent

“Dont care” - Is all Jungkook says back, practically shooing them away. Possessive and bossy alphas, am I right? Much to their dismay, you open your eyes and stare at them in confusion, sitting up a little.

“What do you need to do?” - You ask, sleepy and still half-asleep, still half omega-driven.

“We thought you’d need to let people know about tomorrow…” - Jimin tries gently, not wanting you to get upset or fully wake up, but with your omega still leading your actions, you blindly reach for your phone, feeling around next to the bed and coming out of the blanket to do so, Jungkook trying to hold onto you still and the mids of your thighs now on display momentarily, Tae and Jimin’s breaths catching in their throats, looking away quickly.

You send a cryptic message to the girls, simple and blunt, that you’re sick and can’t be in tomorrow; there’s bakes already finished for tomorrow, and since you were planned to be in the back tomorrow anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You'd definitely think of it so simply and easily if you weren't - luckily - still lead by your omega because you'd fret and worry and panic yourself over and over about every last detail if you werent. You send it and then drop your phone again, shuffling back down and pulling the blanket high over you, nuzzling into the softness and opening your eyes again.

A little smile settles on your face, and you reach your hands out towards them, urging them closer and then tugging them in, just as you did with Jungkook and Seokjin. The second their knees hit the border of the nest, you’re asleep again, shuffling your ankles back into Jungkook’s hold.

“What do we do…” - Taehyung whispers to Jimin, stuck between getting in and leaving, remembering Jin’s words earlier.

They both desperately want to accept your invite but… they don’t want to overwhelm you when your back in your conscious mind. Jungkook isn’t leaving anytime soon but whilst they still hold onto their sanity, they slowly back away, satisfied with you having texted your friends and retreating back to the living room

Rather than confirming that they sorted it, Jimin blurts the first thing on his mind, cheeks hotter than the sun.

“She hasnt got trousers on hyung!?-” - They all turn to Jin at Jimin’s outburst, and he brushes him off, saying, You clearly didn’t want them on, and you’re bundled in blankets and Yoongi’s t-shirt; they are next to the bed if you’d like them on, but he can’t force them on you. He’s red-cheeked by the end of his rant, and they all kind of look at him and laugh a little.

“This is not how i expected the first time her being in our house would be like.” - Hoseok groans out, not happy that you came here upset and in pain.

“Well... at least Jungkook’s not exactly avoiding her anymore is he…” - Taehyung adds, trying to find a positive in the negative.

“God, she really needs to put less work on herself; I’m certain she’s been scolded for it multiple times” - Yoongi stresses, rubbing his hand over his face in worry.

“We can speak to her about it tomorrow if she’s feeling better.” - Namjoon reasons, looking at the time, 10pm.

Throughout the night, each one of them individually goes to just peek in and check on you both, but you’re out like a light, deep sleeping and hardly moving, neither of you, besides Jungkook silently snarling every time someone comes in the room.

The following morning, they continue, just checking in on you both every now and then, but the hours roll by—7am, then 9am, then 11am and neither of you even stir.

Some of the pack had to leave for their tasks; some stayed to keep an eye on you both and be there when you wake up. It’s surreal that you’re in their pack home, fast asleep, but it feels so right; even if you weren’t originally there for any positive reason, you are sleeping soundly now, and that eases something in all of their brains.

You begin to rise at 12:30ish, your shuffling urging Jungkook to slowly wake up too; you’re both a little hazy when you wake, slowly sitting up and sitting in silence, drowsy and rubbing over your faces and hair, not really processing the position you’re both in right now.

You feel… so much better. Finally, as if you’ve rested - which you have, 14 pushing 15 hours of straight sleep. And you’re not in your room- no it’s far too big to be your room, but you are in a nest that smells an awful lot like you and fresh laundry and spring rain. And of course the fact that Jungkook is rising from sleep too at the end of the bed… wait- Jungkook is also waking up-

You’re in his room- in a nest you kind of both made on his bed after he carried you up and took care of you when you were in pain and then Jin scruffed you and you dragged him into the nest and you both fell asleep- Oh my god…

You go from blankly staring and rubbing your eyes to staring at Jungkook wide-eyed; he’s still in a little bit of a haze from nuzzling at the scent gland near your ankles the entire night and morning, just like you were with nuzzling into his sheets and scented blankets and Yoongi’s shirt- YOONGI’S SHIRT-

Suddenly, you aren’t the only one staring wide eyed, Jungkook’s staring right back at you with the same expression and he gets to the words before you, looking down at the nest and how he’s in it and then-

“I am… so sorry!--” - He grumbles out, voice raspy with sleep and borderline about to jump out off of his own bed in fear that he’s upset you but he hasn’t- he really hasn’t hes done more than you would of ever asked for in a million years-

“Why are you sorry?! I'm sorry!” - You squeeze your eyes shut momentarily, looking around and gesturing to yourself, the nest and his room.

You kind of have a battle of apologies, neither of you moving a single bit though, just sitting up staring at each other, so well rested it’s blissful, half-shouting at each other back and forth over and over with messy bed hair, there are slowly smiles rising on both of your faces even if you are pretty much arguing away.

Through both of your shouting you didn’t hear footsteps pounding down the hallway, but you do hear the slamming of Jungkook’s door opening, startling you both and you jumped a little in his direction; he jumped in yours and within a moment grabs you in his arms and drags you towards him protectively, eliciting a small yelp from you, but you don’t protest; his arms are strong… Both of you stare at the culprit in the door.

Yoongi.

He goes from frantic and alert to relaxing, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk when he realises you aren’t trying to kill each other; in fact, you’re looking pretty cosy wrapped in Jungkook’s arms. You relax when you see who it is, and then tense again, looking down at yourself and seeing Yoongi’s shirt- on your body- and pretty much only that-

Much to Jungkook’s alpha’s approval, you don’t immediately try to scramble out of his arms; in fact, you kind of lean back into his warmth. It makes sense; the house runs colder since they all run hotter unlike you.

“Thought you guys were arguing” - Yoongi says with a sly smirk, looking you up and down as if assessing your situation.

Both you and Jungkook scramble to reply, denying? Agreeing? You don’t really know.

You grow a deep shade of red over your cheeks, so does Jungkook and you slowly- reluctantly- detangle yourself, sitting side by side rather than borderline on his lap. Nope, don’t even think about that.

“Sleep well?” - Yoongi asks, not really teasing now, genuinely concerned, but you don’t look to be in any pain. It only fuels the blush on your cheeks as you once again intake your current situation, nodding a little and refusing to meet his eyes.

“And you?” - Yoongi asks Jungkook, now hes definitely teasing, Jungkook half-glares half-blushes and also nods.

“Jin had to go today, he had a meeting scheduled for 1 so he literally just left but… are you feeling any better Y/n?” - Hold on. Left just now for a meeting at 1?

“He just left? What time is it?” - You ask, looking around for a clock but why would Jungkook even have a clock- in his room… in his BEDROOM.

“12:45” - The way both you and Jungkook’s eyes bulge out of your heads is comedic, looking at eachother in shock… You have quite literally never slept anywhere near so long since well before you opened the cafe- a long long time before and Jungkook doesn’t think he’s slept this long in- well… ever. You forget to answer for a moment and then remember Yoongi’s question and turn back to him, rubbing your arm nervously.

“I feel a lot better, i don’t know what happened im sorry” - Suddenly feeling shame over everything that went on, Yoongi rushes over and Jungkook protests your words besides him, once again telling you to stop being sorry

“Y/n, you shouldn’t be sorry, we’re glad Jungkook was able to bring you here rather than that happen and probably still be happening if you were alone, we’re happy your here” - The pain in his voice shows how much he cares and you slump, accepting the reality of yeah, you don’t know what you would of done if that pain had hit you when it did and Jungkook wasn’t there. You didn’t take his last sentence into account at first.

“You two need to eat in a minute, come out when your ready” - Is the last thing Yoongi says before leaving you and Jungkook alone again, shifting in your spot and then turning to him.

“Thank you for taking care of me”

“Thank you for letting me in your nest”

“Thank you for letting me make a nest”

“Well, thank you for-” - He cuts himself off when theres a bright smile on your face, one taking over his own too and your impending battle of thank you’s fizzles into giggles, your hands subconsciously kneading into the blankets around you, comfortable.

“Can i- see your back?” - Jungkook hesitates but he can’t shake off the worry, can’t shake off his alpha hounding at him to make sure you’re really okay. You nod and then freeze, grabbing one of the blankets that had been wrapped around one of you to sleep - Jungkooks.

You wrap it quickly around your waist, covering your entire legs and lowest point of your back because of course you’d decided not to wear the pyjama pants- you curse your omega for it of course, ignored. Jungkook blushes when he realises what you were doing and then you untuck the shirt so that he can lift it, quickly getting to what he said and freezing, holding the shirt up because-

“They’re gone…” - You frown in confusion, not pulling away when Jungkook gently swipes his finger over your spine to check for heat or irritation like there was last night but theres none, erased as if they never existed. You’re certain Jin’s cream can’t have been magic but…

“Not even one patch?” - You try to feel the back of your neck where you tend to get them most, it’s not painful but you do jump because its sensitive, a whole lot more sensitive than usual and Jungkook worries instantly.

“Does it hurt?-” - He frets, hand hovering your nape just in case but you twitch just from the heat radiating off of his hand alone

“Nope!- Uh, not painful!” - You get out, sounding entirely unconvincing and Jungkook glares at the spot from behind you and then remembers you got scruffed; it's probably- oh.

“Theres no patches anywhere.” - You’ll confirm his words when you’re in the bathroom later but for now you want to test something, straightening your back and lifting your arms over your head, stretching and your bones pop a little but- no pain, not even a single bit… Thats- impossible surely.

“Hurts?” - Jungkook asks, hesitant but you turn to him with a bright smile and stars in your eyes, shaking your head happily and he feels accomplished- his alpha trying to convince him it was his own doing

All of his hesitance- well, a good chunk of it atleast- seems to have disintegrated, an unfamiliar barrier removed between him and his counterpart and it feels, freeing? Right?

Suddenly, you feel a spurt of energy, this newfound lack of pain kind of pushing you to get up and jump about and maybe run down the hallway, your omega likes that idea, pushing you to get up and run and see if Jungkook chases you- wait- ignore that thought.

You stand first, stretching your legs and not planning to leave the room without putting some pants on first but then you look at the nest you- and jungkook- built on his bed and blush, heavily, rushing back towards the bed and about to begin to deconstruct it

“Ah- i’ll clean this up-” - Your actions are cut off by Jungkooks plea

“Wait! Don’t, please-” - He can feel his cheeks absolutely burning with embarrassment at his pushy plea for you to leave the nest but you freeze, slowly take a step back and nod after simply neatening up the blankets a little, fluffing it up a bit- Jungkook’s alpha sees it as you preparing if yet again for you or maybe even for him too and he blushes even heavier at that, clearing his throat

“Is that- is it okay?” - He asks and he really is unaware of the way your hearts pounding against your chest, holding back heavy purrs from his acceptance of your nest- atleast thats the way your omega sees it.

“Mhm-” - You barely squeak out before turning on your feet, grabbing the pile of clothes you had put on the floor the night before and gesturing that your going to quickly run in the bathroom, he nods, waiting for you outside.

On the top of the pile is your phone, a whole bunch of messages from the girls assuring you it’s okay and that you need to call them if you need anything and to get better soon. You send a quick reply, assuring them you’re okay and that you’ll speak to them soon about it.

After that- time to put on some trousers- you opt for the pyjama ones that your omega couldn’t justify rolling up so many times last night but you can do it now, rolling them just twice and thinking it’s fine because you don’t want to take too long even if they are still long enough to hook under your feet and trip you- you also put on your bra quickly, just your jeans left to set down somewhere.

Jungkook’s put on a hoodie over his t-shirt or maybe instead of his t-shirt you can’t really tell but he kept the pyjama pants on still, now realising they are kind of matching. Jungkook has a habit of collecting multiple of the same clothes or in very similar styles.

He looks over your form with a smile and then his alpha spots a hazard- or thats what he’d call it amongst other words and before his brain can catch up with his body, he’s kneeling infront of you and rolling the hem of the trousers a few more times so that they sit comfortably at your ankles- which he had scented throughout the night he was just reminded of-

You’re blushing when he stands, a little purry, hidden behind a clearing of your throat and neither of you meet the others eyes.

“Are you warm enough?” - He worries, your back was quite cold in his opinion when he had touched it earlier but you just nod, not wanting to push anyone to care for you more than they already have.

You both make your way out, you following Jungkook’s lead, taking in the decor of the apartment and particularly eyeing the multitude of pillows and blankets littered across the living room area and to your delight- not that your picking but still- their living room and kitchen is open plan- just like yours. And something smells delicious-

Yoongi’s in the kitchen, his back to you two, cooking something that also smells pretty delicious. You don’t quite know where to place yourself- the kitchen is usually your home but this isnt your home so you stand kind of awkwardly when someone walks up behind you and gently places a hand on your back, pushing you towards a chair. You jump, spinning to find a grinning Jimin, and he once again nudges you towards a chair on the kitchen island, find of getting back at you for all the pushing you were doing to him at your apartment. You follow, not quite knowing what else you would do with yourself and Jungkook asks what you’d like to drink, listing out a whole bunch of things, so much so that you don’t catch it all, it’s almost robotic actually.

Your reply is cut off by a cold glass of a dark reddish-pink juice being placed infront of you, is that-

“Pomegranate juice” - Namjoon says from behind you. You light up, body going rigid, and then your legs kicking in delight, a bright smile on your cheeks. He remembered- of course he did; it's Namjoon. You don’t want to assume he sought out the juice for you, but you do know it’s a niche fruit juice to pick, so maybe you get your hopes up a little bit.

You’re so happy that you spin in your seat and practically launch yourself at Namjoon- maybe your still in a bit of a haze after all of their scents have been around you and sleeping in Jungkooks room but… You don’t jump out of the seat to do it but nearly, sitting on the edge of the seat and wrapping your arms around the alpha’s neck, his surprise quickly transforms into bliss, wrapping his own arms around your waist, careful not to put much pressure in case it still hurts.

Namjoon’s very far from the touchiest member of the group, he hardly ever initiates it, but he thinks that will change with you in their lives now- as far as you already are in their lives he means... When you pull back, you feel a little embarrassed at how you’d thrown yourself onto him but the blush on his face and those dimples is absolutely worth it, muttering a thank you to him, and he brushes it off, sitting next to you with a coffee while Jungkook settles down with one too, his iced.

“Don’t think i’ve ever seen Yoongi run so fast you know, what were you two shouting about?” - Jimin teases, sitting at the end of the table whilst you and Jungkook sit opposite in silence, sipping at your drinks and avoiding. Yoongi briefly grumbles about Jimin’s dig at him but its kind of swallowed by the thick silence sat between you three as Jimin waits for a reply he is simply not going to get. What happened in Jungkook’s bedroom stays in Jungkooks bedroom- wait- uh…

“Y/n do you like Japchae?” - Yoongi asks, a saviour in the heavy silence. You tell him you do, and they all fall into brief conversation. You kind of feel out of place, as if your intruding; of course you do-

That imposing feeling is the reason for you kind of awkwardly just looking down at your own feet and wiggling them as if they are the most interesting thing in the world, swirling your pomegranate juice like its whiskey- just as delicate as whiskey to you anyway. Why did you choose to wear mismatched Pokémon socks of all things- charmander and squirtle staring up at you, you can hear charmanders scream and practically see the scene of their battle in your head… why do you want to recreate it with your feet- Hm, maybe you should, just-

“What are you smiling about?” - Namjoon asks following your gaze and then breaking out in a smile of his own, similar to the one you hadn’t noticed on your own face. He’s just about to comment- you can see it until you glare right back, your expression saying dont you dare, even if your socks are open for anyone to see… He hides his smile behind his hand and nods, keeping his amusement to himself.

You wonder how the girls are doing at the cafe on their own, maybe you should check and see if they need your help… yeah… nope apparently not because the moment you try to sneakily take your phone out like a kid in the back of class, Yoongi’s that one teacher with eyes in the back of his head.

“Put it down.” - You kind of gape at him- for starters you are not a dog and also how did he even know?! Then you see the reflection in the stained glass above the oven, betrayal, truly.

Sinking into yourself is all you can really do when the other three turn to you and catch on to what you were going to do; your phone slowly going back into your pocket, you’ll just check it when you leave- probably soon, has to be soon; you can’t intrude anymore.

Jungkook is glaring at your phone like it just ate his last twinkie, and you can hardly understand why- well maybe you can, but you’d rather not admit it, you know, your pride and all.

“Do you cook a lot, Y/n?” - Yoongi asks with his eyes still on the japchae he’s tossing. Two of the people at the counter already know the answer to this one, so much so that you can’t even get a word in before they answer for you.

“She doesn’t like the cleanup,” - Jimin calls out, without a single change in his tone, like it’s been deeply embedded in his brain for years

“So is that a no?” - Yoongi looks at you questionably through the reflection of the glass and you nod firmly, he doesn’t judge, a little surprise on his face though. Somehow, a few moments later Namjoon finds it in his mind to either make this into a competition of who knows the most about you or just finds it fun to blurt out random facts.

“In an ideal world, she wants a balcony.” - Says it over the edge of his book like it’s nothing and then Jungkook perks up, never one to lose a competition. It’s not relevant at all, Namjoon nor Jungkooks comments but they still say it, as if reading out from the texts in their mind.

“She only ever gets the exact same ramen and gimbap everytime she goes to the store even if she spends 10 minutes looking over all the options” - He clearly feels satisfied when no one retorts back at his words but you on the other hand- shocked. Are they just good listeners and really observant or do you just talk too much… It definitely doesn’t make you feel a bit giddy that they remember things like that though- absolutely not…

“You know, we have a balcony but we don’t really use it” - Yoongi cuts off their battle of who knows you best just to push on that one fact about the balcony. He can see you perk up, looking around as if a celebrity has just waltzed in- even if you are in a room with 4 of them, this new celebrity being a beloved balcony. Namjoon just hums in agreement, Jimin points to a door on the other side of the livingroom.

“Aish you should use it more- so lucky” - You gush, shaking your head in disapproval, taking another sip of your juice

“You should use it for us, i don’t think we ever go out there” - Jimin continues, you laugh it off but they just continue.

“Ah yeah, you’d make it all pretty out there too; we’d probably use it more then.” - Namjoon adds on, He’s speaking the truth; if it was nicely decorated, he’d definitely read out there; the view is incredible, but it feels just dark and empty out there.

“We should make a deal: Y/n becomes our designer for the balcony, and in return she has full access to it 24/7” - Jimin nods firmly, agreeing with his own proposition, and Jungkook has been ooing and ahing to all of their back-and-forths about said balcony, taking this whole deal seriously unlike you, and standing up suddenly, expecting you to follow. He looks a bit childish, kind of waddling rather than walking, and his hair spikes in every direction possible, not having brushed it after the sleep. Turning back to you, he gestures for you to get up and go.

You do, just curious as to what space they are wasting outside- purely curiosity you tell yourself and to say you’re impressed with the view and heavily disappointed with them is an understatement. Jungkook stands at the door when you go from a normal walk outside to rushing to the barrier, leaning over and taking it all in because the view is- incredible isn’t even the right word; you can hardly imagine what it’s like at night, but you see why they don’t use it; there’s not even a chair out here. Oh, what you’d do with a space like this- some plants here, different types of chairs and couches there, oh- a fire pit there, maybe an electric one if they can’t have a real one but it absolutely has to be a dark bronze-

Jungkook can see the stars in your eyes as you look around it all, pretty much dancing around the space as you take in the view from every angle, parading down the barrier on each side. You’re calculating where things could- should go, then you turn to him accusingly

“Yah- why don’t you guys use this!” - You’re clearly passionate on the subject, waving your hands around to gesture wildly. He listens as you go to each corner, pointing at different things you spot and giving all your reasons on why you think they’re silly for not taking the opportunity to. You turn around after a few minutes of you not getting a single reply to your endless reasoning and then stand a little frozen, a little confused because Jungkook’s just smiling, not with teeth, as if it’s funny, not as if he’s making fun of you, just smiling, admiring.

It knocks the rest of the reasons you had right out of your brain, a little dumbfounded with his staring. You don’t think you’ve been this passionate about something other than the cafe since, well, a long time before the cafe- you love it; it’s your dream come true, but it did become your entire life. Maybe you should try to find some kind of way to have more time to yourself. Yoga looks fun.

You laugh at your own thought, and Jungkook joins in, just finding your laugh contagious.

“Really, you should decorate it and come back to use it” - Jungkook gets out, avoiding your eyes as he says the last bit; maybe he does want you here more, more than he can quite accept at this moment.

“I might have too if you all keep neglecting it like this” - You retort, once again laughing off his words, hardly taking them seriously, and he can see you raring up to scold everyone else in the kitchen for their ignoring of the balcony you deem so amazing. Jungkook wants to tell you he's serious, that you really should, but he's cut off by Yoongi calling out for you both to come and eat. It’ll have to wait.

Sitting back down at the table after Yoongi has sat and already set everything out, your juice appears to have magically refilled itself, and when you take in the look and smell of it all, you nearly melt into a puddle right there in the middle of the kitchen. You haven’t had anything truly homely in a long time. While you make an effort to avoid eating instant ramen every day, that doesn’t mean that the meals you do prepare are especially tasty or well-planned; instead, they are typically just simplified versions of meals because you lack the energy to put in the work. On Fridays you have a nice dinner, but it isn’t a home-cooked meal.

That's probably why it feels oddly relaxing, comforting to have something really cooked for you, a real meal; it tastes 10x more delicious this way too. Yoongi set out a variety of side dishes, probably ones they always have on hand like kimchi, and even cooked up some bulgogi. How he prepared everything is a mystery to you, alongside not liking the cleanup; you aren't great at multitasking with savoury food- hence your meals tending to be deconstructed and a little all over the place.

The smell is mouthwatering; there's a bowl and chopsticks already in front of you, and as soon as everyone is seated, they begin dishing up what they want. You can hardly process it before Jimin deposits a large amount of japchae into your bowl- too much for you to eat, you're guessing—and then, like clockwork, each of them just puts different sides into your bowl whilst doing their own before you have a chance.

Something you quickly realise is that they are an equally lively and calm bunch; you’re excited before you even take a bite because Jungkook takes one mouthful and starts physically jumping up and down while he chews, an angry sort of look on his face before diving in for yet another bite. Namjoon makes loud happy noises, and Yoongi just kind of eats with silent nods of approval, Jimin too, making a little conversation here and there.

The first bite is heavenly, so is the second, and the third; you still won’t finish the entire bowl because they overload it as if they are feeding three of you, but you think you’ll get damn close. Maybe everyone has their own way of eating good food because yours is to look at it wide-eyed and tap your feet against the kitchen island where they swing back and forth, tapping quite rapidly with small nods of your head. You gush your approval over the food more than once, so much that you don’t even notice Yoongi’s cheeks getting progressively pinker with each one, too entranced with the flavours exploding in your mouth.

This is domestic, feels natural and Namjoon is watching the tapping of your feet against the counter with amusement, never ceasing the entirety of the meal. It feels right.

You wait until the end of the meal to get back to the point of you being here in the first place. Sure, you’d apologised to Jungkook and Yoongi but you don’t know who was here, who was fretting over you; your omega is unusually quiet and calm, happy today though; recently she’s been nagging at you a lot, but now just- quiet acceptance after the whole scuffing and sleep thing.

Much to your dismay, you can’t even get a word in yet before Yoongi’s scolding you.

“Aish don’t do that” - He says, pointing at you with his chopsticks. You freeze, offence written all over your face

“Do what?” - Your apology is momentarily forgotten in this new moment of Yoongi telling you off

“I already said, don’t apologise.” - He shakes his head and the other three agree, voices all on top of one another.

“I didnt.” - You press, eyebrows raised as if they’re trying to touch your hairline, caught red handed

“You were going to” - He gives you the ‘don’t even try to lie’ look and you deflate, huffing out and bouncing your knee up and down to hold back the urge to apologise. That is until Namjoon puts his hand on your knee and stops its bouncing physically, just pressing down and then letting go. You’re thoroughly stunned enough to listen, and it also kind of takes away from your strong desire to apologise even if only momentarily. He isn’t doing it out of annoyance; the touch is soft. He rubs his thumb over your knee the briefest amount just once; it’s reassurance, a stop to your anxiety.

Jimin has to leave shortly after, just the three men and you are left; apparently, those three just have to write some songs and can do it in their own time so they don’t have to be in the studio today.

“I don’t think you should go home just yet Y/n” - Namjoon says without hesitation once you’ve all moved onto the couches, well, more just like you, Yoongi and Namjoon because Jungkook went to shower and change. You furrow your brows, eager to get out of their hair but not to get away.

“Why not?” - Yoongi just raises his eyebrow at you, a dead silent ‘are you serious?’ at your reply

“You’re going to throw yourself right back into work, trust me, we get it, but it’s not healthy” - Namjoon stresses, using his hands to exaggerate, and you can see the conflict on his face, but you can only sigh, leaning on your hand as you think back; the rest clearly did your body good, and maybe glimpses of a life less led by one thing is what’s making you feel a little warmer. Physically, it’s clearly helped, but mentally, it’s a struggle to walk away from putting as much effort and time in as you do.

“What he’s trying to say is; you’re body is fighting you Y/n, you can’t do this again” - Yoongi adds, blunt, but there’s a hint of raw emotion underneath. You pull the pillow by you a little closer in comfort because it doesn’t feel good to be scolded; of course it doesn’t, but you don’t know what to say.

“Just… stay, for today?” - Namjoon asks, practically pleads and you think it over; you’ve already stayed the night now- whats a few more hours if it makes them happier…

“Okay, I’ll stay for a while” - You nod, confirming and they both let out a sigh of relief, but now what do you do?

Inside Jungkook’s room, said man is kind of battling with himself, staring at his bed heavily conflicted as his body twitches to jump right back into the nest but his logical brain is saying: you’ve slept for 15 hours and you’ll sleep another 15 if you get in- you can’t do that.

Alongside that, he’s just got out the shower, in fresh clothes and he feels he should certainly become reaccustomed to the scent covering his bed… right? Especially when it smells so sweet in comparison to how you smelt last night originally, he likes this version.

“Kook.” - He spins, wide-eyed and caught red-handed, taking a jump back as if this isnt his own room to you and Yoongi at the door, his hyung looking all too smug.

“How long have you been standing there?” - He teases, Jungkook stutters over his reply, eyes darting between the bed and you both at the door before Yoongi gives up, taking his leave but you stay. Having been watching for a few minutes as he bit at his lips and stared so heavily at the nest.

“It is your room Jungkook, you can take it apart if you’d like” - You say, even if the words cause a pang to your heart and an internal whine from your omega, you don’t forget Jungkooks protest to you doing it earlier though and when he gives the same reaction, half-panciked at your suggestion

“No! No thats not-” - You’ve just noticed he has a little lisp, its cute, one of those things that you notice about each of these alphas that makes them more and more endearing, like Namjoon’s clumsiness. Then you catch on, or atleast kind of, you think so and your mouth works before your brain

“Then in that case, you know you can get in it too- right?” - As the words come out you kind of want to slap a hand over your head, why just why did you squark that out!?- Despite your own conflict, Jungkook’s eyes brighten and in an instant, like a puppy waiting for the ‘go ahead’ for his food, he’s bouncing right into the middle, splaying out across it but somehow not really moving a single thing out of it’s original place. It fills you with a sense of pride, you try to ignore how he has a face full of your scent, referring more to his comfortability when you ask

“Nice?” - Tilting your head with a big smile, Jungkook doesn’t even lift his head to answer, words muffled

“The best” - Oh- Now that makes you blush. You laugh a little awkwardly, not used to all these new things like having someone admire- desire- your nest and appreciate it other than you, it’s different to the one at home, some would argue it’s more intimate being in his bed rather than your own.

Rather than awkwardly standing at the door, you just walk over and sit on the edge, fingers twitching to reach out and run your hands through his wet hair, resisting and refocusing when he turns onto his side, staring at you, more like staring at your back, pursing his lips and frowning a little even if his eyes are dilated to the max and he feels blissful.

Moments later he’s holding out his pinky towards you, you stare at it for a second, confused, then melting at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more appreciated than you have in the last 24 hours with them, never more cared for, more heard and doted over and your heart races, a little frown setting over your own face at the puppy-like look on Jungkook’s face, from the time you’ve known him, he’s always seemed kind of unsure, right now, he’s sure, sure in his care, in his worries.

“Promise you’ll try to listen to your body more.” - He waits, a childish gesture, but at this moment, it hardly feels invaluable; in fact, it seems to hold a whole lot more than just a curl of your pinkies. You let out a shaky breath before reaching your own out, intertwining it, fingers fitting around each others perfectly, his larger, a small tattoo at the base of his knuckle, and you stay like that longer than you both know is necessary.

“Promise”

—------------------------------------------------------------

Don’t ask any of the three men how they ended up here. They haven’t got a clue but what they do know is you sure can get bossy. They aren’t complaining- you’d like to say your precise and know what will look good rather than bossy.

They’d revealed in passing that they have a room filled with trinkets and furniture that they aren’t quite sure what to do with, and you’d stared at them in pure disbelief, refocusing on that balcony. Demanding to see said room was the first thing, and now where are they? Going back and forth, bringing things this way and that way according to your instructions.

The room was like a jackpot, filled with all sorts of pieces that had your eyes shining with ideas, with inspiration and while the three only saw a jumble of different things, you have a vision.

“So that balcony…” - You say, dragging out your words slyly and turning to them with your eyes shining bright, a silent question as you look between the contents of the room and them- who are they to say no?

If you’re going to spend the day here, not working, you might as well make yourself half-useful and help them make use of a space so so precious. The storage room goes from jumbled chaos to just having a few leftover pieces that didn’t quite make it into the final design, now that its pretty much empty you can notice the amazing natural light, it would make a great sunbathing room for a cat.

Anything particularly heavy - such as the large faux leather chair you’d dedicated to one particular corner—was assigned to Jungkook, who complained that his hyungs were perfectly capable of carrying them too; they did but anything they could went to Jungkook. Jungkook and Namjoon had already proved their strength over a month ago in the cafe- lifting the chairs so you have no doubt that they have the ability and Yoongi doesn’t make so much as a single grunt lifting things either, a very good bunch.

An XL outdoor rug, a leather chair, a large sofa-type thing, a wooden table and various small pieces and trinkets were brought out.

The boys simply did the heavy stuff, and without complaint. You would have done it yourself, but hey, what's the point when there are three muscled men there who could do it and argued to do it rather than you anyway? Simply saving yourself a job. You’re as independent as they come but what’s indulging once in a while anyway?

In the span of the time taken to bring it all out and place it where you want, you’ve made yourself a little more accustomed to their kitchen in between your instructions, making the hard-working boys a round of lemonade and fruit-filled smoothies. You can’t let them get dehydrated when they’re doing all the heavy lifting for you, each round being gulped down in seconds by the men.

The summer heat seems to be creeping up today, it’s manageable inside where it’s air-conditioned but with the three lifting and carrying and going back and forth outside, they end up pretty sweaty- determined- but sweaty and you have to force them to take a break after every few pieces. That does come with the rules of the break though- You shooed them away from the couches indoors because they were not getting them sweaty as if it was your own house and instead pushed them to the kitchen stools.

They don’t take their shirts off, but they might as fucking well- lifting them up to wipe their heads every two minutes, having to dart your eyes away because your omega- and you (don’t lie and say you dont) like that a bit too much. I will note what you notice though… Jungkook is built with a small waist and a full set of abs, not the kind that look like rocks, the kind that make you want to bite them. Namjoon has less defined abs, so visibly there but he’s like… thick in the best way- Like an effortless kind of fit. Once again, you’d definitely want to bite them. Unfortunately, you don’t get to see even a peak of Yoongi’s stomach- you think it would also be very biteable; there seems to be a pattern here… moving on.

What’s wrong with appreciating the view in front of you right?- Doesn’t mean anything- you can say someone’s attractive without it meaning too much more right?!- Okay enough-

When they are done, they’re all panting, and you push them onto the now outdoor couch, they can rest now while you begin your own part. Fairy lights and lanterns first. They had a box with a good variety and you best believe you’d tried out each and every set to find the warmest lighting and only picked those ones.

You’re going to hang the lanterns along the wall and weave the fairylights pretty much everywhere- you can already see how it’ll end up and its perfect-

The lights wont drape anywhere too close to the plants, you’ll make sre they have just enough distance, maybe go at it from multiple angles to distract anyone from seeing that- make it seem like they are wrapped around the plants too. Amongst all of your thoughts you kind of ignore the three looking at you curiously, ignore the way they watch your every twitch.

You don’t acknowledge them as you step up onto the armrest of the couch, right next to Yoongi and then from there, step up onto the back of it. You feel perfectly stable but they do not agree- in a singular moment all three let out small sounds of distress and Yoongi’s hands are shooting up to hold onto your legs, going hard and then tugging you straight back down. The pull down is far less stable and safe than you felt actually standing ontop of the couch and you turn with a questioning look on your face, wobbling as Yoongi stabilises you back on the ground, hands still holding just above your knees.

“You cannot climb up there like that-” - Yoongi fusses, the other two agreeing quickly and it only confuses you-

“Why not?” - Once again Yoongi is giving you the ‘are you for real?’ look and you are just about ready to brush off their silly protests to continue when Yoongi’s hands go firmer on your legs, keeping you exactly where you are

“Thats not safe- you’ll fall” - Namjoon stresses, clearly about to go into the thickness of the couch nd the height and all of the aspects that he thinks contribute to the lack of safety of your found stepping stool.

Their worries aren’t needed- you’ve done far worse to climb up things- okay maybe not on a balcony but you’re no where near the barrier anyway, you’re against the homes wall You laugh a little at their fretting, more like giggle in amusement and shake your head

“I won’t fall, it’s not that bad really” - You insist but they all kind of scramble to keep you in place, multiple sets of arms reaching to stop you from climbing again- panicked. As fast as they come, you swat them away with another laugh. You’ll humor them since they are so clearly against it.

“Okay so what do you suggest?” - Maybe you shouldn’t of asked that because what did they opt for instead of you climbing on absolutely anything? Sitting on one of their shoulders.

“Atleast that way you’re properly stabilised-” - Namjoon pushes, rubbing the back of his neck, hot and red with his awkwardness and embarrassment, especially when you’re standing there with your hands on your hips accusingly, eyebrows raised as you wait for their explanatio.

“You aren’t on a ledge, you’ll be sitting so you won’t fall” - Yoongi reasons and it still doesn’t convince you, definitely amused with a smile threatening to take over your lips but you refuse to give in to their - pointless - worrying so easily.

“And when I fall off your shoulders? Make you stumble and then both of us fall?” - You question and then all three of them return your confusion, clearly not believing that is even a relevant worry.

“We wouldn’t let you fall and why would we even stumble?” - Jungkook pushes, leaning in, head tilted and you laugh as you answer.

“You might and obviously you could stumble- a whole human on your shoulders would be hard to handle” - Its good reasoning, atleast you believe so- you believe its the logical answer, the logical thinking but they clearly don’t. Namjoon and Yoongi break into hugely amused smiles and Jungkook actually laughs, you stare at them confused at what is so funny.

“Any one of us could benchpress three of you Y/n, it’s definitely not going to be hard to handle” - Yoongi says smugly from behind his smile and you falter, face going blank to begin with and then processing his words- How can he just say that and expect you to know how to reply when theres some weird butterfly sort of feeling in your stomach and your omega suddenly perks up in your mind, chirping about how strong they are-

You don’t really have a chance to think of a reply anyway because through the three men’s amusement, Namjoon is standing up and gesturing for you to come closer, you just do it, accepting that you really don’t have a comeback to Yoongi’s words besides the attempt of ‘prove it’ and you don’t think that would really help your flustered case right now.

“How do i-” - You start, not knowing where to put your hands, your legs- how are you meant to climb onto someones shoulders anyway?!

Namjoon gets onto one knee, back towards you and leans down to make himself a little lower but you kind of just reach out and then pull back multiple times really having no idea how to climb onto him properly-

“Just climb on” - Yoongi says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, watching with amusement from besides you both

“What do you mean just climb on?! It’s not exactly an everyday thing climbing onto someones shoulders-” - You ramble and Namjoon has his head tilted down now, still waiting for you to get on but very amused, laughing a little.

You’re about to retort again and revert back to the original plan you had in mind- climbing the sofa not Namjoon’s body - when a sudden grip on your waist has you hoisted into the air, a yelp leaving your lips but you can’t think as you’re manhandled onto Namjoon’s shoulders, having to adjust your position to make this work, setting your legs around his neck, yelps leaving you one after the other at every movement, but you aren’t even in the air yet; you could stretch your toes and touch the floor from where you are, Namjoon still knelt down.

“Wait wait wait-” - You panic, Jungkook - who had lifted you onto Namjoon’s shoulders like you were a ragdoll, still has his hands on your waist, pretty much holding you up still and you grip onto his forearms hard, refusing to sit and put any weight on Namjoon’s shoulders, kind of in a weird bent diagonal position- trying to push your tiptoes on the floor to keep off his shoulders and balancing yourself but also not.

Yoongi’s laugh doesn’t make it any better; Namjoon holds so still so that he doesn’t spook you into losing balance and Jungkook has a very firm grip on you. Maybe it is a little funny, the boys’ amusement does bring a smile of your own to your face to be honest.

“I can’t sit on your shoulders Namjoon- i’ll be heav-” - You can’t even finish your sentence when Namjoon realises what you’re going to say, realising that is why you were saying wait and just takes it into his own hands, literally, reaching up, hands gripping onto your thighs and pulling you down firm until you are actually sitting on him. He doesn’t so much as twitch with your weight on him, no huff of air, nothing-

You can’t think as it all happens fast; no longer on your tip-toes, legs dangling over Namjoon’s chest now, sitting properly on his shoulders and Jungkook is pulling one of your hands off of his forearm to direct it towards Namjoon where your other hand follows, and you’re curling your body forward instinctually, hands grasping at his hair in panic; your eyes are wide at first and then squeezed shut.

Okay totally normal—just getting help hanging some fairy lights by sitting on his shoulders, totally normal, nothing to overthink about- nope not at all. Just focus-

“There we go, wasn’t so hard right?” - Namjoon asks, hands firm and secure on your thighs even if your feet are only dangling a bit off the ground so far, you slowly open your eyes and huff out, not answering that question because that was infact very hard. You’re soft in his hands, fingers dimpling into the soft flesh even through the pajama pants and he loves it.

“Am i hurting you” - Is what you say instead and Namjoon instantly denies, shaking his head, grip going a little firmer to keep you from trying to scramble off again and ultimately probably fall off. Then you notice your death grip on his hair and stumble over an apology, letting go and awkwardly petting his head better, the three alphas just laugh and Namjoon tells you it’s okay to hold on, you try not to but you have a feeling you probably will end up doing it anyway.

“Okay you ready for me to stand up? Just hold on, i promise i won’t drop you” - Namjoon tries to reassure you, you go tense where you’re sitting but nod even if he can’t see it, now or never and you’re half way there anyway-

He stands up in one fluid motion, as if you weren’t on his shoulders at all and at the sudden rise- hoisted high into the air and sitting a whole lot taller than you ever have the view of- you yelp and your legs cross in front of his chest where he still holds them, kind of going tight around his neck and you curl even more, your stomach pressed to the back of his head, holding onto his hair for dear life. You swear this whole ordeal has your life flashing before your eyes but… it is kind of exciting

Jungkook laughs where he sits, watching how it looks like your trying to do some sort of thigh chokehold on Namjoon and he doesn’t even complain, just holds you tighter but he does tap your thigh once, and you loosen just enough for it to be comfortable.

“Sorry- sorry… didn’t mean to choke you” - You scramble out, trying to slightly uncurl yourself and straighten up only to retreat from that mission for a moment because goddamn you are high up right now-

Yoongi stands next to both of you and then hands you the lights you need, string lanterns first and you hold them shakily at first, a bit reluctant to let go of Namjoon’s hair but when you do, you findt you don’t slip one bit, don’t even wobble, Namjoon is perfectly still as if you’re a part of his own body and his grip is grounding, reassuring, kind of relaxing even.

“Could you go to the corner if that’s okay?” - You ask, realising you can’t quite reach, and then Jungkook thinks of a solution rather than you verbally having to call out your directions each and every time.

“Have you ever watched Ratatouille, Y/n?” - You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, brows furrowed, but you nod and he perks up, leaning forward in his chair with a grin on his face.

“Just do what Remy does and tug a bit of his hair in the direction you need him to move” - Okay that is funny actually… Yoongi is nearly in tears; this whole situation has been far too amusing, even more so when you do actually pick up a section of hair in the middle of Namjoon’s head and tug it forward a little, a cheeky smile settling on your face when he just laughs and moves forward like you wanted him too.

Quickly, you realise you do actually have to straighten up though because where your curled over, Namjoons hair is tickling your sensitive stomach through the shirt you’re wearing and you keep twitching slightly, fearing that the more it swipes over you the harder you’ll twitch and then eventually fall so you straighten up and- okay this isn’t so bad…

A tug forward and Namjoon is walking even closer, okay maybe you can get used to this actually, it’s pretty fun.

You lean forward a little, thighs pressing further into Namjoon on impact and his grip tightens to keep you where you need to be whilst you begin to tie up the first string, fiddling a little but surprisingly, now that your up here, it’s not so scary.

Now that it’s actually happening the whole fact that you’re on his shoulders doesn’t really flash in your mind properly, you just kind of pull this way and that way and move how you need to, putting up all of the lights. To be honest, it is actually easier, you’re higher up and after a few minutes you’ve put all your trust in Namjoon, bending and turning freely despite being over 6ft in the air. You find that the closer you get to the balcony’s railing, the harder Namjoon’s grip gets and you joke a few times, reminding him that he said he wont drop you and such to ease the impending concern if there is any.

When you’re finished, you huff and relax in your new seat, Namjoon tilts his head back against your stomach to look up, which he has done quite a few times now and consequently has been rubbing his head on your stomach, scenting you a little there but you try to ignore the butterflies you get from it.

“Ready to get down?” - He asks, you nod, tellin him you are and then he steps into the middle where he picked you up before and once again you find yourself kind of curling over his fluffy head, holding on while he gets back down to the same position he did to pick you up and you think you could maybe awkwardly unhook one of your legs and try to slide down his back but you fear your other leg will get stuck. You can’t think too much about it anyway because Jungkook comes up behind you again and lifts you off easily, your legs kind of kick before they touch the floor, once again startled because how does he keep sneaking up on you like that-

Namjoon gets up once your off and your going to thank him when you see the mess you made of his hair, sticking in all kinds of directions. You smile sheepishly at it, reaching up.

“Sorry i messed up your hair” - You tell him and stand on your tiptoes to reach the top of his head, instinctively going to fix it

“Its okay” - Namjoon laughs out, dropping his head for you to reach, easily giving in to your desire to fix it, to care for him even the smallest bit. You run your hands through it over and over, brushing out the little tangles with your fingers and when you still can’t reach the very top of his head you walk a step closer, nearly toe to toe like you were outside of your apartment building in that hug that you will never forget.

Namjoon closes his eyes at the feeling, head drooping and when you step even closer, scent enveloping him more, his hands reach out before he consciously knows, resting on your waist. You freeze for a second, it shouldn’t stun you. You had Jungkook picking you up and down by your waist just moments ago, and Namjoon’s grip on your thighs, which were wrapped around his neck- it really shouldn’t stun you, but the warmth of his palms makes you shiver a little, skin prickling as a smile curls on your lips.

You don’t push him away; you don’t want to and your omega purrs within you at your acceptance, dragging it out just a little longer than necessary, fingers pushing his hair back over and over as if it really needs your untangling anymore, it doesn’t. Something in you is deeply satisfied by this kind of thing, by brushing through his hair, just like it was when you dried Jimin’s hair for him and did the same, it makes you want to purr.

Even when you take your hands away and Namjoon opens his eyes again, you can’t bring yourself to step back, bathing in the warmth of his hands covering your sides. It’s so gentle that it’s almost ticklish, you smile bashfully at him, cheeks definitely dusted in red and in that moment you can only focus on him, just him.

The only thing that snaps you both back to reality and has you taking a small, hesitant step back is the sound of the front door closing inside the home, echoing out and Yoongi gets up from his place to see who it is. Namjoon walks back and sits on the couch, relaxing back into it next to Jungkook and you quickly revisit your task- making this balcony perfect.

You dart around, tiny adjustments, everything seems to be in place but its missing something, you feel a deep kind of longing for something cozy, this could be cozy but it isnt yet and as you stare around, face scrunched almost angrily, you set sights of the pillows adorning the couch indoors. Thats what you need.

“Do you have any extra pillows and blankets?” - You turn to the two men, refocusing their attention on you and Jungkook perks up instantly, nodding

“I have a whole closet full in my room” - He’s immediately up and leading you back to it, theres no one in the hall or large living space that you can see so you aren’t sure who’s come home.

The said closet Jungkook was talking about is… heavenly. Eyes dilating to the max, you want to run and jump in the middle of the mountain of softness and fluff, you gulp hard, trying to refocus but it’s oh so tempting. Jungkook tells you to help yourself and oh you do. In seconds your sifting through each and every piece, filling your arms up with pillows of all kinds and blankets and then, turning around, hair a little askew because somehow you’d buried your head in the pile at some point, Jungkook laughs.

“Cute” - Is all he says and your so glad the pile you have covers near to your eyes because you flush right up to your ears, spinning on your foot and setting off back outside.

You only have one route in mind, one path to follow and honestly you couldnt really get distracted anyway because you’d drop the pile of softness or topple over so you hardly notice when Yoongi and Hoseok watch you from the kitchen, practically running back outside where Namjoon still is.

Namjoon stands up upon seeing your arms as to not get in your way and is aiming to move so you can begin but you dump the pile down and then push him back down too.

“I need a model to properly see” - You reason, urging him to stay there even if in reality you kind of just want him there to see whether he approves when you finish up…

Over the next few minutes you’ve placed countless pillows and blankets around, careful in your decisions on what types go where and such and when your finished, you spin to take it all in and realise the sun is beginning to set now, you’ve been here all day and now its actually dark. It makes you kind of sad, you don’t want this to end.

Namjoon catches on to the slight dulling of your scent and the way you look out almost longingly and sits up, you speak before he can say anything.

“I should probably get back now, the sun will set soon”

“You haven’t even had a chance to use the balcony you made so pretty”

“You can use it for me”

“I think you should stay for the sunset, it’s your favourite” - Namjoon tells you, you can hear that there is room for you to say no but he doesn’t want you too, and neither do you. But… You’ve never told him that this time of day is your favourite, never explicitly…

“I can drive you home whenever you want to go Y/n, you don’t have to rush” - Hoseok appears at the door and tells you and you jump, not having realised he was even back let alone basically right next to you.

“Just… a little longer?” - You say, almost asking and the two men nod, smiling and then the other two appear, Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Wah, look at it out here” - Hoseok gushes, looking over every detail, you wish it was a little darker actually so you could turn on the lights

The four men pour out compliments on your decorating until your beet red. Then they vow to make good use of it, all spreading out, Yoongi settles in the leather chair, the other three easily find their own spaces on the couch and then you are pulled down between Namjoon and Hoseok, a good amount of room on either side of you.

The air is starting to get colder but the two beacons of heat besides you shield you from the chill. They all continue to gush for a while, then things begin to settle, Namjoon plays some of his music and the other three scroll mindlessly through their phones, Yoongi occasionally taking time off of his to just look out at the view.

Namjoon knows you don’t mind the silence, doesn’t have to look over too many times at you to know you’re enjoying just looking out and watching. Theres a permanent smile on your face, a warmth settled deep within you and slowly you slump more and more, sinking into one of the many pillows behind you and your legs pull up just a little, half-curling up where you are.

It’s so beautiful; this feels so right, so calm and the sun is setting so beautifully from here that you simply want to freeze time. You welcome the gentle breeze, hardly noticing when Hoseok pulls a blanket from behind him and drapes it over your legs. A peeled tangerine ended up infront of you at some point, nudged into your hand while Yoongi had one of his own across the balcony, you absentmindly nibbled at the segments, the orange of them is similar to the sky’s.

Your eyes feel heavy, mind feels so slow in the best way, the playlist on flitters through until you perk up a little, recognising Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Dreams’, briefly muttering something about how you love this song and someone, one of the alphas, mutter something back ‘of course you do’, endearing enough for you to slump even more.

Maybe you should just close your eyes for a few seconds, everything feels so warm when your usually cold and maybe closing your eyes will rid them of the heaviness, maybe…

The moment you quietly drift off, Hoseok is the first to feel it, your head slowly falling onto his arm and your body curling up more under the blanket over you, he can see you kneading it in your sleep and loosely, he drapes his arm around you, feeling you melt into his side.

Your gentle huffs of breath against his arm confirm that you’re asleep, your colder body soothed by his warmth, seeking it out as your hands reach to hold onto his arm too and his phone is long forgotten, just watching you now. No one wakes you, not yet, they let you rest, let you nuzzle further and further into Hoseok’s warmth and mildly nest in your sleep.

Hoseok tells them he’ll take you home in maybe an hour or two, lets you sleep for a little while longer. The gazes they all give you are full of warmth, full of care and adoration, admiring your every tendency even in your sleep. It’s almost as if you can feel their stares, hear their thoughts because in the silence that’s fallen over them, you purr, your lips curled up happily and it wrecks them. Oh it absolutely destroys them. Any doubt of their growing feelings towards you was lost in the soft breeze of the impending night, there while you napped so easily, so warm when you always find yourself so cold, a new kind of satisfaction.

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter please let me know what you think of it, I try to get back to comments as soon as I see them!

My asks are open for comments, questions, character asks, feel free to send something 💖💖

Lmk if you’d like to be added to Taglist x

Mwah 💜💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Taglist: @annasixx22 @canarystwin @borahaetelevision @stay-tiny-things @chasinghxran @bangtan4lifetypeshit @bubblyyz @steddie-steddie @7milkbread7 @welcometomyworld13 @chroniclesofbts @sidnaazsworld @roryy95 @danielle143 @angel121 @imeverycliche @m00njinnie @kiki-zb @meowforluv @jiminsfavpillow @dachshunddame @corgilover20 @minjianhyung @loopychick @lizzy23-02 @gimeow @moonxxlover @cerulean1riz @msrmimi @therealjaken

[meowforluv]

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter Five ‘Love: redefined’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warnings - uncertainty, tension and little bit of characters being upset, tiredness and exhaustion, lmk if there’s anything to add! x

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

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Author Notes - Okay I STRUGGLED here. I wrote the final scene before I wrote the rest and i worry it doesn’t quite fit in but… oh well. If it doesn’t then imagine it as a bonus scene 😭

Walking into the dorms after the car ride had Jimin hit with a wave of exhaustion, wanting to get to his bed and just crash, half lulled to sleep already. He explained what happened to Yoongi; Yoongi listened intently and gave his comments here and there; mostly he just watched Jimin talk fondly, a sense of calm and satisfaction settling in his bones from it. By the time they were back, Jimin looked lovestruck from recollecting it all.

Yoongi had already begun to think that you’d potentially, most definitely, grow into someone more than just the cafe owner to them; he felt it; he saw it; and he welcomed it.

Jimin’s intent to get in and fall straight asleep was paused when, the moment he stepped into the home, multiple pairs of eyes shot straight to him and steps could be heard rushing in because Jimin smells so heavily of you that it flooded through the house 10x more than his own scent.

It smells like you’ve spent hours scenting him, his own scent mild underneath it all, it’s primarily because he did just spend over an hour in your apartment, completely surrounded by your scent and none else. He’d showered so his scent was mild in comparison too and with your clothes on- Yeah.

What doesn’t help is the droopy eyes, sluggish movements and lovestruck sort of look in Jimin’s eyes whilst Yoongi is standing behind him with a content, calm and satisfied smile.

“Why do you-”

“You smell like Y/n-”

“Jimin where have you-”

The voices all call out at once. Jimin spots the couch and makes his way over, dragging his limbs and ignoring them momentarily except when he gets there and rounds it; instead of simply sitting or lying down, he's tackled. In a split second, he’s grabbed, dragged down and flopped on top of; his yelp is high-pitched, he’s absolutely shocked and he can’t even scramble to get up before trying to work out what’s happening.

On top of him is a heap of muscle, half-asleep, instinct-ridden muscle, pulling him down in his sleep haze, nose taking deep inhales of his clothes and hair.

Jungkook had been asleep on the couch, a nap, when he half-woke up to the ruckus of the other members voices and then his nose began twitching, eyebrows furrowing and that scent-—so close-— So rather than really waking up, his alpha kind of just took over, grabbing onto Jimin’s sleeve when he was in reach and tackling him down, seeking out more and more as he layed pretty much flat on top of him, eyes still closed, ears blocking out most of the noise.

He’s sniffing all over, clumsily trying to find a scent gland, the source of your scent, but since he can’t find one, he’s just scrambling to inhale across the collar of the hoodie and at Jimin’s hair, where the scent glands in your wrists had brushed over and over it, depositing your scent there subconsciously.

“Jungkook-” - Jimin gets out, trying to move the lump of muscle and kicking his legs under him; he's actually struggling because Jungkook's just laying deadweight on him, not even conscious yet. Jungkooks kind of just grumbling, instinct ridden mind so confused on why he can smell that scent so heavily but not find a real source, a raw source; its more secondary but so strong-

Everyone is stopping momentarily- frozen, shocked. Then, cutting through the silence is Yoongi, doubling over in hysterical laughter, as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

Of course everyone knows Jungkook took a very specific liking to your scent from when you first met- it was strange and shocking considering his pickiness, and now he’s desperately seeking it out, so close yet so far away. They just never thought it was to the extent where, half asleep, Jungkook would tackle Jimin and seek it out.

Jimin’s clothes are riddled with your raw scent, not your half-potent, scent-blocked scent. His own is extremely mild, which is why it makes sense that Jungkook’s alpha is confused.

Kind of coming back to himself, Jimin wrangles his arms free and shakes Jungkook a little, waking him up just enough to have his eyes squinting open, and then he’s also freezing, so confused it’s maddening. What is he doing and why does Jimin smell like that-

“Jimin?” - He groggily asks, head tilted and then rolling to the side and consequently rolling onto the floor with a thump that positively wakes him up, rubbing his head and just staring in confusion.

Jimin sits up, finally able to breathe properly, and puffs out an absolutely flabbergasted breath, running his hands through his hair to fix it where Jungkook had rubbed his nose and cheeks all over it and messed it up.

“Yes, Jimin- Not Y/n” - He says with a grumble; he just wanted to come in and go to sleep, but instead he got manhandled down and crushed.

“What?...” - Jungkook asks, so confused. Why is Jimin saying not Y/n and why was he there? It takes another inhale to fully wake up, eyes shooting open and looking at Jimin like he's just murdered someone. He takes in his appearance; he recognises those trousers; those aren’t Jimins, definitely don’t smell like them either…

“Jesus christ, Jungkook” - Jin says, coming over and helping him up from the ground. Jungkook’s hair is ruffled and messy, one of his eyes still trying to shut and block out the bright lights. Yoongi’s on the other side of the room, still laughing; they all just look at him incredulously.

Jungkook is clingy to them; he will happily pull them down or drop down next to them and wrap his arms around them whenever he can, and none of them really mind, Jimin especially since he’s the exact same, but he’s never done that before.

If Jungkook had puppy ears, they’d be pinned against his head right now. He doesn’t understand; he doesn’t understand why they are all looking at him like that and what he was doing.

It’s not like he was trying to harm Jimin at all-—of course not; none of them think that—but he’s never acted quite so instinctual before in front of them all; it’s a thing they’ve only seen in fleeting moments. Jungkook keeps his instincts on a very tight leash; they all do, of course, but he has never taken an interest in any omegas. That's what makes this all so much more shocking. He was grumbling out as if he was going ‘mine, mine, mine,’ smelling that scent.

Namjoon rubs a hand over his face because they’ve not known you all that long, but it seems like you’re taking a big impact on their lives and behaviours without them truly knowing the extent.

“Im sorry…” - Jungkook says, tone like a scolded puppy, looking at Jimin in shame, but Jimin isn’t angry, of course not; he was just- surprised.

“It’s okay kookoo-ah.”

It’s safe to say Jungkook had a long, hard think trying to decipher what was going on with his instincts and mind after that; why does he feel jealous after Jimin tells them all about his evening? In fact, why do they all feel jealous after?

“Okay, so note to self, don’t let Jungkook fall asleep in Y/n’s cafe” - Taehyung says after, trying to brighten Jungkook’s dampened mood. He’s always so in control, so why are you making him feel like this?

Instincts are strange things; many believe that your counterpart is meant to be a guide, that you should oblige with what they are trying to tell you. Of course, you should be in control and be able to resist your instinct at times; it's just hard to differentiate when those times are. If you listen well enough, your counterpart will push you towards fate; that becomes hard when you teach yourself to completely resist everything your instincts tell you to; it makes you confused, nervous, even shameful. Finding a balance is incredibly hard; once you’ve got the hang of it, pushing it away is easier than giving in. That isn’t always the right choice, though. Sometimes you need to listen; sometimes it's right, and things will come for the better.

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“Jimin couldn’t get here today so he asked me to return your clothes, ‘sugar’” - Yoongi had come in when it was less busy, a small bag of your clothes in hand, teasing with his gummy smile when he called you by Jimin’s favourite nickname for you. You glare at him half-heartedly, reaching out and taking the bag of clothes. It’s only two days after the day it rained; in that time, Jimin-—and the others-—had absolutely devoured your scent on the clothes even if they won’t admit it, and when it was time to wash them, Jimin couldn’t resist lightly scenting them. They smell of clean and Jimin and faintly of everyone in their pack even without you bringing them up to your nose, and it nearly knocks you clean off your feet, a blush heavy over your cheeks.

“Thank you; would you like anything?” - You try to push down the blush by distracting yourself and speaking like normal even if you did clear your throat; Yoongi knows; he can clearly see the fluster on your face, but he doesn’t prod, not at first at least.

“An iced americano and one of the slices of cheesecake, please” - He’s taken a liking to your raspberry cheesecake, and you can’t blame him; it is good if you do say so yourself. You nod with a smile and begin to work on it; Yoongi waits by the counter, but maybe this is a good time to dig a little deeper.

“Do you wear scent blockers, Y/n?” - Yoongi knows you do, you look at him with a little furrow of your brows; He’s always been blunt, so you should really expect it by now, but it’s not the question you’re expecting.

“I do, patches.” - You touch just under your ear and push your hair out of the way to show him; he hums and nods

“Why? Is it because you can’t smell me?” - You tease, smirking a little and laughing. Alphas, always curious.

“No, in fact, your scent is very strong to me; it’s been stronger since yesterday though” - He says it so casually you nearly drop the espresso you’re holding because that’s not right-—he really shouldn’t be able to smell you much at all, and what does he mean stronger?!

“Maybe you're getting mixed up with the smell of the pastries; they are similar” - You try to reason; that's what your friends always say anyway, that it easily blends in. He shakes his head, certainty in his voice.

“Nope, similar but not the same.” - You falter. Are your scent blockers not working anymore? Do you need to use stronger ones? The girls havent said anything and surely they would-

“But then, I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you we all wear them every day too” - ‘We all’ meaning him and his pack. You turn to him fully this time, cup of ice abandoned momentarily because he’s playing tricks on you surely; you know for certain they don’t wear scent patches, they can’t; you know they are there before they even walk through the cafe’s door; the chime of the bell isn’t even needed to alert their presence because their scents are so potent.

“You’re lying” - You say and laugh it off, regain your composure and continue making his drink, ignoring his next response until you walk over to hand him his coffee and cheesecake.

“Am I?” - And then he's leaning his arms on the counter casually, brushes his hair out of the way, and there it is-—not just on his neck but on the scent glands on his wrist too-—scent blocker patches, almost identical to yours. But that’s not possible because Yoongi’s whisky-like scent is washing over you in waves, just as strong as anyone else who comes in, dare you say a lot stronger than anyone else.

But then again, he could be wearing cologne the same as his scent; some people do that to enhance and strengthen their scent- which would be weird since hes wearing blockers but then again-

You try to reason with yourself, but you can’t deny the way the smell seems to alter your brain chemistry every time he comes in, alongside the rest of the boys scents too.

Schooling your face into one of faux annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and laugh it off again. Place down his order in front of him and jokingly shoo him away; he smirks, knowing he's going to get you to think about it properly, and says his goodbyes over his shoulder while he leaves.

Thinking years and years back, you recall a lesson you had in school, basic counterpart biology. Nowadays, scent blockers are incredibly effective, but if the will of your counterpart is strong enough—your omega, in your case—they can overrule them for certain people, allowing you to smell them even through scent blockers.

It’s something that developed centuries ago, with people your counterpart deems worthy or rather- safe-—even from a first meeting, your scents can almost triple in intensity. Scent blockers make your scent mild to others; they can still identify whether you are alpha, beta or omega and identify some of the notes of your scent, but the effects and intensity of the scents are miniscule.

The intensifying case originally developed in your biology to allow packs and mates to be able to find you even in dire situations, even if your scent has significantly weakened. You know that some parents experience it with their children; mates experience it sometimes too. It’s something that used to be followed in identifying what people often call ‘fated mates’, the other person, or people, your counterpart feels is perfectly aligned with you. In other words, it signifies an incredibly strong, fated or biological connection.

It’s a lot less common now; living in urban environments made it nearly die out too. Therefore, that surely can’t be the case and can’t possibly even be relevant, so you don’t know why you’d even think back to it.

Pushing it out of your mind and refusing to dwell on it is a whole lot easier than listening to your omega whine about it being true and facing that potential reality.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening you’ve swarmed yourself in your job so much that it’s slipped out of your mind, just like you wanted it too until its nearly closing. You haven’t seen any of the other boys other than Yoongi today- not that it matters or anything-

Around this time, you turn the music a little louder, for your own satisfaction really, theres usually barely anyone here so it becomes your little heaven, looking more like a jazz club than a cafe when it gets dark from the warm, dim lights and the furniture you had picked.

Right around 10 minutes before closing, Hoseok and Taehyung walk in, waltzing over to the counter, ordering their preferences for the day and you go about it as usual, they ask how your day was, you ask it back, that sort of thing.

“Sit in or to go?” - You don’t see Hoseok look down at his watch and frown, realising how close it is to closing and then you look back up, they had planned to sit in but hadn’t checked the time before coming.

“Your closing soon right?” - He asks, you nod but before he can say anything you quickly add a few words on, you don’t know why but you really dont mind the 7 staying a little after closing if its just them, they are nice company, you enjoy it. In fact, its become a sort of routine for you and Namjoon to stay long after closing together a few times a week anyway.

“I’ll probably have another hour-ish before i leave so you can sit in if you’d like” - Smiling gently, not pushing but you doubt he would of mentioned it had they not been considering staying. Taehyung looks at you in surprise, answering before Hoseok could.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, i really don’t mind” - You nod firmly, you just have a bit of cleanup and then to check on the prep for tomorrow and maybe you’ll bake a few batches of cakes and cookies for tomorrow anyway.

“We’ll sit in then, kick us out as soon as you want too though” - Hoseok tells you, he says it firmly but theres a teasing smile there, you laugh a little and nod

They go and sit down, you make their drinks, a tea for Taehyung and a fresh fruit smoothie for Hoseok, you take it as they don’t have to go back to the studio after because Hoseok isn’t ordering a coffee and it brings a smile to your face, glad they are atleast leaving at a sensible time today.

“Do you think Jungkook’s seen her since?” - Hoseok asks, Jungkooks been particularly quiet since the whole Jimin, you, scent tackle incident. Taehyung frowns.

“I think he’s scared too, you know” - Hoseok huffs out at Taehyung’s answer. Jungkook isn’t going to get anywhere avoiding you, you don’t even know what happened anyway.

“Funny to think Mr Seven Days a Week is acting like this over a girl” - Hoseok tries to lighten Tae’s mood a little, it does bring a smile to his face though.

“Alright, well Mona Lisa is borderline explicit too” - Taehyung defends, laughing out a little now

“Key word: borderline, and- im not avoiding her” - Hoseok gestures to around him and you, as if to say look where we are, to prove his point.

“Everyone in the group with an explicit song seems to get a bit clumsy around her you know” - Taehyung laughs out thinking about how Namjoon, usually confident and bright, acts like a lost puppy around you.

“Are you talking about Mr. Pro rider?” - Hoseok smirks and pushes but then he thinks and adds

“Although, Yoongi is particularly bold with her so maybe those two are just the unlucky ones” - It’s fun to tease eachother, they always do, pushing and prodding at eachothers new songs whenever their even somewhat explicit.

“Well if we are talking borderline explicit you and Jimin seem to do well with her too so maybe they are just unlucky” - Tae shrugs, both of them agree there.

“I get him though, Jungkook” - Hoseok sighs out, he pities Jungkooks current internal battle, hes running from his own instincts because he doesn’t know what to do about his body reacting like this.

“So do I; I don’t think he’s felt like this before, we know hes had his experiences and whatever, but he values that control; he fully pushes away what his alpha tries to tell him unlike you and and pretty much all of us who embrace it a little more” - Taehyung tells him, thinking back to what he knows about everyone and their relationship history. Jungkook is particularly closed off, he likes being in his comfort zone.

“And how about you?” - Hoseok already knows how he is starting to feel about you, how he’s felt pulled to you from your first meeting, he has just enough balance with his alpha to keep himself in check, listen and give in sometimes, hold back at others.

“Im… just… seeing how it plays out” - Tae says, scratching at his neck because although his alpha isn’t having him drop onto Jimin because he smelt like you, your slowly invading his brain more and more, you’re scent driving him a little more crazy every time he sees you.

Before Hoseok can respond, your coming over with their drinks and cakes, your hairs down now, having just turned the sign to closed and you’ve foregon your apron, it lets them see how your t-shirt clings to you in all the right places, tucked neatly into your jeans which Taehyung finds himself really hoping arent uncomfortable on your skin, okay maybe he is more affected than he’s letting on because the thought of the denim being scratchy on you is enough for him to have to refrain a snarl from slipping out.

You tend to douse yourself in oversized clothes and the only time they’ve seen you other that is in your usual jeans and shirt and an apron, it hides pretty much everything about your body but with it off they can see the curve of your waist, the way your thighs pull at the wide-leg jeans and your t-shirt a bit tight around your breasts but they try to rid that thought from their minds- quickly at that. They can’t really think about it any longer without feeling their own alphas rise to the surface despite just talking about pitying Jungkook for the same thing.

You’re just about to leave when you contemplate for a second and look at them both, they wait exptectantly for you to speak

“Do you mind if i turn the music up a bit louder?” - You turn it up close to closing but when you have actually closed, you like to turn it up a bit more and dive into the music whilst you finish up.

“You can do whatever you want, angel” - Hoseok says a bit too fast to stop the nickname from slipping out and he freezes, Taehyung looks at him a bit shocked, you absolutely stun on the spot, lips parted in a silent gasp and cheeks flushing at a record-breaking rate, you puff your cheeks up and merely reply with a little ‘mhm’, a bit too high-pitched to be normal and spin on your foot booking it across the room to distract yourself.

Your hands fall to your cheeks, feeling the heat there and goddamn it your about to purr again- what is it with them and making you feel like this?! Your omegas chanting something distantly in your mind, purring away ‘angel, angel, angel’ like its a mantra you live by. And now, why are you smiling? Scrap that, beaming?! Your hearts racing faster than you can quite comprehend so you quickly turn the music to try and busy yourself.

“I think we should stop talking about Jungkook’s avoiding issue and start keeping it to ourselves because…” - Taehyung trails off, Hoseok agrees with a curt nod and they try and act like nothing happens. Hoseok’s alpha is pushing and growling in content, trying to make him voice it but he won’t.

Luckily for them, and you, as you had said, your music gets louder, a slow song that Taehyung is oh so familiar with ringing throughout the cafe. ‘Strangers in the night’ by Frank Sinatra. He perks up as it begins, looking at you across the room and to his delight, your gently humming and ever so slightly swaying as you neaten up the other side of the cafe, you hardly notice Taehyung’s scent spike in delight and the way he’s just staring at you.

Hoseok watches, amused, knowing Taehyung isn’t going to get up and do anything without a bit of encouragement but he sees a memory to be made, a joy to have. You make your way closer to them after just a moment, they can hear you humming along more clearly now.

“Go, get up” - is all Hoseok says and Taehyung looks at him as if asking him what he’s talking about, trying to play it off but he gets a kick to his ankle under the table and then Taehyung’s jolting up, taking his chance when you’re about to walk past them.

You don’t notice him getting closer as your back is to them both but Taehyung takes his courage and walks behind you, gently taking your hand and spinning you to face him, the touch electric and surprising, you let out a quiet yelp and there he is, standing over you, gently leaning down to your ear and whispering oh so intimately.

“Dance with me” - You stare at him in shock for a moment, giggling a bit and telling him the truth.

“I can’t dance” - Is all you say, he shakes his head at you and whispers again, his warm breath dancing over your air and you feel like your suffocating, in the best way, your heart tight and breathing a little uneven.

“You can, trust me” - He leans back and holds out his hand to you, letting you pick whether to take it, you do. You slowly put yours in his, he brings it up to his neck, wrapping it around and your other hand follows, his skin warm and soft against your fingers, the soft hairs at the nape of his neck tickling you and then he gives you a warm smile, hovering his own hands over your waist and guides you into the same soft sway you’ve been doing subconsciously, but this time, with him. Your both a little clumsy at first, getting used to eachothers rhythm or rather- you trying to replicate his and giggle together until you find a good pace.

Taehyung’s own heart is racing as you wait for his guidance, he settles his hands on your waist softly, your gasp swallowed by the music, theres a small bit of room between you two and its like you’re in a different world, gently swaying and turning, theres a smile you cant hide on your face, your heart in your ears.

One of Taehyung’s hand’s leaves your waist to hold one of yours, his arm guiding you to spin and you do, the turn eliciting a giggle out of you, this time, when you’re back facing his front, you close the distance, your feet between his own and you rest your cheek on his chest, swaying so softly around the cafe. When the song ends you feel disappointed but Taehyung doesnt let go, ‘Misty’ By Ella Fitzgerald begins to play and he simply sways you even slower. You can hear his heart beating fast through his broad chest, hes firm and warm, his hands big and you feel safe, comforted, romantic. Your eyes close, letting him completely guide your every step, arms clinging around his neck and he dips his head to rest it on your own, even if it hurts his neck a little. Your flush against eachother, two souls as one.

Taehyung has never felt so blissful, watching you occasionally, feeling your soft breathing against him and it feels like his thoughts just disappear, your small, soft under his hands and he loves it, your scents even sweeter than normal, he’s sure it’ll stick to his clothes after this. Against his chest, your deeply inhaling his own scent, sighing out in blis and your mind feels a little hazy, you could stay here forever. If there was even the tiniest gap between you, you both lean in to fill it, pressing close to eachother. Your purring, you don’t realise but Taehyung does, so does Hoseok, he can hear it from where he’s watching you two. Taehyung reciprocates your purrs with his own sweet grumbles.

A few songs play after, neither of you are too sure what they were because theres better things to focus on, he spins you occasionally, you giggle everytime, spinning right back into his waiting arms seemingly even closer than before. His arms are wrapped fully around your waist rather than just holding the sides now, when you slowly come to a stop you both just stand there holding eachother, you feel relaxed enough to sleep right then and there, against his chest and you reluctantly open your eyes and look up at him with stars in your eyes, he looks down at you with the same and you break into the biggest smile he’s ever seen on you.

Its hard to break away from eachother but you do, eventually.

“I definitely still can’t dance but its a start” - Is all you can manage to say and Taehyung gives you that boxy smile, the one that cold melt thousands of hearts

“I’ll teach you more” - Its a promise and one that allows you to fully step back and tell him you’re just going to keep finishing up. He nods, and as you pass Hoseok, he gives you a wink, finally setting in your brain what just happened. You’re blushing so heavily it looks like you’re going to blow up, and every step you take feels hazy; your eyes are a little low. It’s the kind of look that makes alphas like Tae and Hoseok want to leap to protect you. You’re a little vulnerable like this, and it’s unfamiliar. A lot of things are unfamiliar lately, but you have to embrace change, especially when it feels this good.

You can hardly get around to the few small tasks you were going to do-—let alone even think about any baking right now. you almost feel intoxicated; you almost feel a little dizzy with it all but you want to stay in this exact state, and- you want to find a nest, build a nest, anything to do with a nest, right now…

You can’t- theres nowhere right to make a nest here… There are chairs and blankets and pillow though… It would be weird for you to make even a half nest here- without knowing, you stand at one of the blanket piles, kneading the top one over and over, deep in your own battle. It’s all you can do to not make any kind of nest.

Taehyung falls into the chair and slumps with a big, almost sleepy smile. Hoseok laughs at him a little.

“I’ll send you the videos” - Is all Hoseok says, and Taehyung’s eyes shoot open because not once did he see Hoseok recording, but then again, he had other focuses.

Under the dim, warm lights, dancing around the cafe with you, his heart beating so fast he could simply pass out, but he’s too happy for that. They both sit in a comfortable silence with your music playing in their ears until Hoseok glances over and spots you across the cafe, your back towards them, but your hands are moving over and over something… the blanket pile. He keeps leaning back in the chair to get a different angle, and from there he can see you staring at the blanket a little conflicted and holding it tight, kneading it over and over.

Tae looks over too, trying to work out what your doing when a possibility flickered through his mind-

“Is she…” - Is all he can say before Hoseok gets up and out of his chair, quietly walking over to you. It doesn’t click at first, but then it does- all of the dancing, so close to Taehyung, the hazy look in your eyes after and now… You're trying to nest, or at least thinking really hard about it, somewhere else in your mind, subconcious. His alpha whispers in his ear, more like screams at him to take you somewhere safe and lead you to nest, but he knows realistically he can’t really do that; he has to do something though because he can’t stand that conflicted look on your face. You’re confused; you look at your hands like you don’t know what you’re doing, and then you remind him of someone, Jungkook.

Hoseok finds a blanket on the back of a chair; it's thick and relatively heavy and just right. He walks over to you slowly, unfolding the blanket as he nears you. You don’t seem to hear nor smell him approaching even when he puffs his scent out in a soft wave once he nears you. Your nose twitches, but that's all.

Hoseok frowns, walks up to you, and gently wraps the blanket around your shoulders from behind you; in an instant, your body relaxes a little, and your hands grip at the edges of the blanket, tugging it around your body. He can hear how your breathing is unsteady, and when you slowly turn, the glassy look you have over your eyes and the confusion so prominent pull at his heart, and he really has to resist pulling you into his chest so you can use his scent and embrace to calm down.

“Angel…” - Hoseok speaks slowly, trying to get you to really focus on him; you're deep in another sort of headspace, one that's often brilliant, but should you be upset and confused like you are now, it can be terrifying.

Your heart beating in your own ears is louder than Hoseok’s voice; he sounds almost far away. There’s something soft and heavy and warm wrapped around your body, and you’d quite like to slide to the ground right now. You shouldn’t do that though. You’re so deep in your mind that you don’t notice that Hoseok is fluttering his scent around you in small waves, ones that make you breathe in instinctually and subconsciously and then let go again. He saw you were breathing in a weird pattern, hardly enough to be healthy, and when you didn’t respond to him calling out your name, his alpha clawed at him to let him try something. He did, and the scent waves got you in a lot more regular breathing pattern, although the flushes of his scent make your eyes all droopy again. You are more present now, just a little dizzy.

“It’s time to go home, angel; I’m going to drive you. Is that okay?” - He speaks quietly, firm enough for you to feel grounded but not enough to scare you. You’re still only half here, slowly getting back, but you need to be somewhere you feel comfortable, asap and he’s not letting you walk home like this.

You’re confused; you don’t quite know what happened but you nod because the idea of going home like this alone feels really off-putting right now. Namjoon has begun to walk you home after your evenings like this anyway and Jimin and Jungkook do too-

Taehyung sees it happening, clears up their plates, and grabs both of their bags. He couldn’t see what was happening with Hobi standing in front of you, but he can hear it, and he feels bad for not noticing sooner, but he can’t dwell on that right now.

They make sure you lock up and do anything desperately needed, and then they take a short walk with you down to near the Hybe building, Taehyung helping you into Hobi’s car, and it’s only a short ride to your house, but in that time you slumped to the side, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder, who’d opted to sit next to you in the back. His warmth envelopes you enough for you to half-fall asleep, eyes barely open. He has to gently shake you to wake you up enough to get into your building.

You thank them, and Hoseok walks you to the door, his hand hovering over the small of your back, protectively, maybe a bit possessively, never quite touching but nearly. When you get in, all you can think about is your nest, and you don't even unravel the blanket still held around your shoulders before barreling in and dozing off.

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“What was that, hyung” - Taehyung slowly realises that while he thought he wasn’t, he might be in a very similar boat to Jungkook because he has absolutely no idea what just happened; he wouldn’t have known what to do- not unless he listened to his alpha- whom he pushed back in that moment.

“Something kind of similar to what happened with Kook, except she was physically awake and he wasn’t” - It’s the only way Hoseok can compare it to something, this way it makes sense, at least more than it did

“Probably being so close triggered her instincts and put her in a less conscious state; i don’t think she is used too it… Most omegas get like that with scenting, and it often forces a need to nest and scent amongst other stuff.” - Hoseok hadn’t yet moved the car, not taking his eyes off the door in case you suddenly came rushing back down. Taehyung furrows his brows because…

“But i didn’t scent her” - Taehyung mumbles out in confusion but Hoseok just gave him a ‘are you serious’ kind of look

“So rubbing your cheek all over her head wasn’t you scenting her?” - Hoseok asks, eyebrows raised in sarcasm. Taehyung slumps; he hadn’t noticed he was scenting you.

“I mean, yeah, it’s probably the mildest form of scenting, but she was rubbing into your chest and your arms too; it probably rubbed off on her a whole lot more than either of you think” - Hoseok reasons. Taehyung frowns because he really hadn’t realised; he wishes he had.

“Anyways, i don’t think she’s used too it, scenting nor her headspace.” - Hoseok continues, shaking his head, finally putting the car in drive and slowly pulling away.

Taehyung’s alpha is full of pride for being able to lead you into said headspace but he’s also internally whining since he wasn’t the one to help you or comfort you and bring you back to being calm when you were so confused.

“It’s only really safe for her to fall into that sort of space when she’s somewhere she can comfortably nest and do anything she needs too, imagine if Jungkook had tackled Jimin and done that anywhere but at home” - Hoseok is conflicted for leaving you alone but also knows you might not have appreciated him staying, he can only hope that you won’t feel upset after you come back to yourself.

Taehyung realises quickly that he isn’t nearly as confident with the relationship you are all slowly beginning to form as he thought he was and the moment they get back he is researching and researching, anything and everything to do with Omegas so he isn’t caught not knowing what to do once again. You’d think he would know, even just instinctually but not quite, their world means they have to learn to get a hold of their instincts and heavily suppress them often.

Scenting is common in packs, they all scent eachother in their pack, some more often than others and they all have their methods, most primarily using their wrists but Jimin and Jungkook and occasionally the others tend to use nuzzling as another form. Its for comfort, calms their instincts enough to be manageable, it’s needed. You on the other hand, only scent your own belongings, of course your friends puff their scent around you when they are out with you but you don’t scent eachother.

A sort of gap, a hole feels a little more full after being mildly scented by Taehyung, a more intense version of the fuzzy feeling you got a glimpse of when Jimin had dried your hair for you and his wrists had occasionally brushed over your head. It lulls you deep into sleep in your nest, laying belly up, strange and different for you- you always curl into yourself or sleep on your front, instinct to protect your belly even if your only in your own nest. You’ll get hung up on what happened tomorrow.

It’s kind of accepted, the slow form of a relationship thats going on between you all, you don’t voice it, in fact you try to ignore it but fate has a funny way of pushing things to happen.

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The following night, you’re getting ready for your weekly dinner with the girls, going somewhere a little more fancy tonight. Physical preparation like choosing a nice silk dress and kitten heels with your hair nicely styled is a small part of the rest of your prep, the mental prep of confronting the development of your relationship with bangtan. This night, you’ll speak to the girls about it, discuss what to do, where to go, explain your mind, your behaviours and hope they can bring you some insight, help you get ready.

That begins after you have had your first drink, just a sweet glass of rosé. Your friends arent blind to what’s been going on, they are simply waiting until you are ready to also confront it.

“I’ve been feeling weird lately” - Is how you start off with, the girls turn their full attention to you, already knowing whats coming and fully prepared, excited for you too.

“Weird how?” - Minnie asks, wanting more information as shes one of the unfortunate ones who isn’t at work with you everyday to see it first hand

“Just very… in tune with my omega?” - They hum in understanding, you fiddle with your fingers trying to think of how to put it into words

“Well… that can happen when you experience changes in a relationship you know” - Miyeon tells you and then continuing

“Is there anyone that could possibly be relevant too?” - They already know there is but this is about going at your pace, helping you confront it and go forward.

“Theres a group, i met them a while ago now and it feels like my omega resurfaces everytime im around them but tenfold…”

“The lovesick puppies” - Soojin states, a knowing smile on her face and you blush a little, grumbling about the name shes chosen

“You should listen Y/n, if it feels right then let it happen” - Minnie tells you, nudging your shoulder where she is next to you

“It feels like i should but its so different and im acting strange around them, like… giggly and feeling fuzzy” - You cringe at your own description of it but thats what it is… Some of them laugh a little at your expression.

“Oh Y/nnie, come on, tell us about it”

“I feel safe around them, like a different kind of comfort and then i feel all strange like- when Jimin was at my apartment my omega was telling me to take him to my nest?!” - You whisper yell the end of it, clearly conflicted and taking another gulp of your wine. They coo and fret as if it’s the cutest thing in the world, gushing and practically petting your head like a dog.

“You like them Y/n, or atleast, your omega does.” - Soyeon tells you, looking at you fondly, you furrow your brows because in reality, you know that, you’ve just tried to ignore it.

“Yesterday, i was dancing with Taehyung and after i just couldn’t stop thinking about nesting and having his scent close, i didnt even feel fully present it was so weird…” - You shoot them a look as if to say - dont pry about the dancing - and they dont, even if theres a few wiggles of eyebrows and smirks around.

“Did he scent you?”

“I dont know?-” - You look at her mentally saying, ‘did you not just hear what i said i wasn’t really all there.’ and she puts her hands up in surrender so Soojin takes over

“You might of got a bit of a scent high, your omega being more present than usual and clearly happy by the sounds of it”

“Oh what do i do…” - You put your head in your hands, a little stressed

“Can i tell you exactly what i think you should do?” - Yuqi asks, you shoot up looking at her like yes- tell me right now…

“Just accept it, let it happen, if it feels right then just see where this goes, let your omega be more present around them, listen and i think you’ll find yourself very happy” - The rest of the girls nod and add little comments, mostly just reinforcing Yuqi’s words and you sit a little conflicted because yeah they are helping but its easier said than done…

“Pushing away what you really want will only hurt Y/n, just try it, yeah?” - Soojin says, arm wrapping around Shuhua happily and the image of those two together helps, her words come from a place of experience and after a small moment of contemplation you nod

“Okay… i’ll try it” - The entire table erupts in cheers and tease, you stubbornly push away all their hands, fixing your ruffled hair and Minnie calls thats shes getting another round of wines for you all in celebration

You still don’t know exactly where its going but now, your embracing it.

“Okay now tell us all about the moments your so clearly hiding” - Soyeon pushes, all of them turning to you in agreement, you flush never thinking you’d been obvious but clearly they caught onto your behaviour before you really did yourself.

“Jimin gave me back my clothes and they smelt like him and the pack and i put them straight in my nest…” - You cover your burning face with your hands, smiling beneath them and the girls are loud, teasing and prodding you, pretty much fangirling over your small developments.

“I think they seem very nice, just generally good people” - Minnie says, approving from both the interactions she’s had with them directly and based on what shes seen and heard with you. Yuqi and Soojin agree, nodding and sharing your little secrets about always letting them stay late and reserving their favourite’s for them.

“I think your more whipped than you realise Y/nnie” - Miyeon tells you, smiling and cooing.

“Theres one thing that’s kinda stuck with me though…” - You trail off, they push you to tell them

“I wear scent patches pretty much all the time but Yoongi told me it’s as if i dont and that he can smell me, like really strong even with them on and then he showed me he was wearing them too and that all of them wear them but thats not possible because their scents are so- strong” - You furrow your brows, still hooked on that whole interaction even if you did try to push it down.

“They definitely wear them Y/n, i can only slightly smell them” - Yuqi tells you, Soojin and Soyeon agreeing

“And we can hardly smell you either, only because we know what you smell like can we really identify it” - Okay this has not exactly helped- you wanted them to say that yeah their scents are overpoweringly strongbut no-

“This is probably more of your omega trying to push you towards them Y/n and their alphas the same, if you like their scents then enjoy it” - Shuhua tells you knowing that it happened with one of her friends and her mate, it only slightly settles you but you just huff out, another gulp of wine and you’re all on your second- some third- glasses by now.

“After your scent started to get sweeter occasionally, I noticed it happens mostly around them you know, and didn’t Dr.Kim tell you that you should be fine getting your heat on time so it wasnt that” - Minnie pushes and the girls gush- you definitely feel bad for the tables around you guys.

“Let’s just agree that you let it happen and see where everything goes?” - Minnie asks and you give a firm nod, refusing to dwell on the little details more right now, especially with you starting to get a bit tipsy.

“Okay but do keep telling us about any of these interactions-” - Shuhua pushes, wiggling her eyebrows at you and you blurt that theres nothing to tell-

Your fancy night ends with them teasing and dancing you around the paths on the walk back to your apartment, tey always do this, make sure you get home first even when you insist you don’t need it. You go to sleep with a lighter mind, a new kind of positivity to where this strange and new road is taking you.

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A few nights later you’re cherishing your slow wind down to closing time. You haven’t seen much of the boys but since your chat with the girls, every time you have seen them it just feels a little more right, easier and you welcome it. It’s been a long day, you’ve felt particularly jittery and a little like you don’t want to be around so many people, just one of those days really.

These are the kinds of evenings you often look forward too. When the air is just right, spring is rolling in and its warming up the nights, the sun looks particularly beautiful in its descent tonight. It may be your favourite time of day, this very particular window of time. The moon is slowly rising, you can’t help but look and smile whilst in-between the few customers that come in at this time. It’s a quiet evening, you appreciate that.

As much as you love the bustle and energy your cafe gets most days, these quieter evenings are the ones you cherish. The lighting of the cafe is always just a dim, warm light, to mimic your favourite time of the day. The music feels distant but oh so present at the same time, blissful. Theres barely a few customers in now, you have 30 minutes until closing and if you get lucky, there will be maybe 1 or 2 more tonight.

He doesn’t disturb your peace, Namjoon, he comes in and no matter what he did, you think he couldn’t pause your bliss. He’s kind of like these evenings, sometimes when you glance over you think he shouldnt be here, not in the heart of Seoul, he should be somewhere in the countryside, rural, delicate, so naturally beautiful.

You find he has a preference for coming in at this time when he can, sits in the same spot everytime, the best spot in the cafe in your opinion. He has his glasses on tonight, a book in hand, this is how these evenings go, you will slowly finish up, making yourself a sweetened fruit tea, sometimes you vary your choice, go for a different kind of tea, most of the time you don’t. Pick out one of your bakes, usually one you’ve reserved for yourself at the beginning of the day before setting them on display and quietly, without a word, you’ll make your way over. Namjoon’s presence is a balm to your slight jitters, you wouldn’t want any other company - other than maybe any of the others in bangtan too.

The silence is always welcomed between you two, always. Neither of you know when it became so routine but he will briefly lift his eyes from his book, even though he knows its you by the doughy, sweet scent that gently fluffs around him like the pillows hes lying back on. A small smile is sent your way, its enough to tell you how his day has been, just by the energy behind that momentary smile. You’ll quietly begin to eat whatever you’ve chosen for the day, Namjoon will read to the end of his chapter.

Only then will he dog-ear the page; he never has a bookmark on hand. He sets it down, you read the title, then you’ll look back up at him, offer a satisfied smile, always because you are usually naturally happy at this time of day. Namjoon always looks especially handsome with his glasses on, then often slip and he gently pushes them back up, the same way he wipes his curtains out of his face when they get a little too long.

Namjoon’s tired today, not upset but just tired. Your presence is welcomed, he appreciates it, you seem to understand without a single word.

You always stare out, daydream of one day residing in what you hope to call your forever home, somewhere with a view that looks especially beautiful at this time of day. You never fret, never push at his shoulders to tell you how hes feeling, never be anything but yourself because as far as your instinct to care and dote goes, this is what Namjoon needs. Your omega settles when you simply accompany Namjoon, let him lead if he would like to talk, guide the conversation when he gets a little frustrated, you know he appreciates it.

Namjoon’s always curious as to how you take your tea, you cycle through a specific few colours of tea each time you end up here - a few times a week at the very least. While you have a preference for your teas, what flavours you pick and the specific levels of sweetness, you don’t have a preference for the mug that holds it, never particular, never the same.

He’s grown partial to a mint tea in the evenings, a half teaspoon of honey when he does it the first time. Every time, you set out the little pot of honey for him to make it to his taste for the first cup he has, the second cup he has is always after you’ve arrived, you do it for him that time. Sometimes you add a singular drop extra, on the days where you claim he needs the extra sweetness with a teasing smile, if he has a third, you do it for him then too. It’s just how it goes.

Halfway through your time together, you will stand to pull the shutter on the door down and flip the sign to closed, then rejoin him. He’d worried the first time, thinking he should leave, you reassured him you didn’t want him too, since then, he hasnt questioned it.

“Do you think about the future often?” - It’s the first thing he says to you today, since you’ve sat down that is. Perhaps you’d think the first thing he’d ask about is your day, thats often not the case, you like this much more. Namjoon’s intelligent in a way far deeper than academics, he’s still learning he says, still growing, and you believe him but wisdom comes with time and care. His intelligence is refreshing, its raw and real, its sometimes clumsy but this is his first time living, its also yours. You’ve claimed he is far more intelligent than he knows, that you can see it, that you’ve heard and seen it, he didn’t agree, he still doesn’t; that doesn’t matter because we all see the flaws in ourselves far heavier than others will, often we degrade and push down our positives in favour for confronting the negatives.

His emotional intelligence is a positive, hes doesn’t see it the way you see it.

“Occasionally” - You say after a moment, he leaves it open for you to continue, you do.

“We are all living in the present but, i have things i imagine for the future, or rather, id like to hope ill get to experience at some time in my life” - You don’t dote on the future every second of the day, fate is a funny thing, it’s unpredictable, you leave the rest of your life open for question, don’t tie it to an expectation but there are things you’d like to imagine one day you’ll experience.

“Tell me about them” - Is all he says in response, he’s not staring, infact his eyes are kind of lidded, as if he might fall asleep but you know he wont, you know he’s listening. He’s inquisitive, always curious, you like that about him. He likes to learn, learn about the people around him, the general and the not so general, you like that too.

“They are the type of things most people hope to experience; i’d love to travel, to explore the world for what it is, find the beauty in both the rural and urban, to paint a picture of it in my mind for every place i’m able to visit” - Namjoon doesn’t respond, he lets you continue once again because he thinks your mind is truly artistic, beautiful, romantic. You live in the realistic, but you speak to romanticise things your passionate about. He finds that differs from your attempt to make it seem like you say the same as everyone.

“I’d like to see love, from anywhere i am able to visit, maybe one day ill be lucky enough to experience it but- im not set on when, we may be able to mold our futures to an extent but fate can sway and push at anything we might think is set in stone. If i ever fall in love, i think ill treasure it, i’ll forever be grateful, i don’t think every attraction is love, i think it’s something different and otherworldly and that’s why i more so want to see it, to slowly form my own definition for what i think love is.” - You take a sip of your tea as if Namjoon isn’t looking at you like you’ve just fluttered down from heaven. He’s not smiling for a moment but then he is,

“Do you think you’ve seen it before?” - It might seem silly to anyone else to ask that but with what you just said, Namjoon, and you, think its wholly justified. Your smile is faraway, dreamy and its enough of an answer even before you nod. You don’t want to redefine love, you just want to find what it really looks like to you.

“I think love can be fleeting moments, it doesn’t always equivilate to long term but if i could pick, id like to experience both, maybe i already have, maybe i just havent quite realised it yet” - Namjoon’s throat feels dry, he doesn’t get to have these conversations often, you could of answered so simply ‘i want to travel and love’ but you told him how, why, where, you told him it so rawly that it couldn’t be simple, he likes that so much more, he likes you so much more.

Maybe you don’t know what you do to him, maybe you do but it doesn’t matter to Namjoon, you’re a different kind of new for him, sure, hes had deep conversations, of course he has but this feels so different and he embraces it. This is how you grow, this is how you learn.

“Am i rambling?” - You ask, you know he will answer you truthfully.

“Never” - Namjoon answers you breathily; it sounds like its almost pushed out of his chest, genuine, pure.

“Id also like a balcony, this chat would be nice on a balcony” - You add, smile reaching your eyes because its random in comparison to all you’ve just said but Namjoon appreciates it nonetheless and agrees, mind drifting to this exact conversation but on a balcony, somewhere in one of the places you’d want to travel, maybe italy.

Most would think its time for you to reciprocate his questions now but you’ve learnt to understand Namjoon, thats not what he wants, he just wanted to learn, he doesn’t always want to have a back and forth, not in the traditional manner, so you’ll wait. You’ll sit comfortably in silence, watching the sun slowly set, you know he’ll speak up if he wants too, you trust that.

He’s the voice of so much, so often, its part of his life that sometimes silence is his remedy, sometimes he wants to be the listener, he always wants to be the listener with you.

“Tell me more, anything” - Namjoon’s voice is once again breathy, the kind of deep that lulls you into calm. You smile, thinking of something random to tell him. It’s not exactly random though, its meaningful.

“My favourite fruit is a pomegranate” - You give him a slightly brighter smile and he returns one, not as full as yours but he knows you have a reason for it, he wants to know it.

“They take a long time to prepare” - Is all he says, you laugh just a little, nodding. He finds he feels a little clumsy when hes with you, more than usual, in how he speaks, he often feels embarrassed for his blunt answers with you but you never do more than a little laugh, not at him though, you like it.

“I like pomegranates for how they taste, I don’t mind spending 10, maybe 15 minutes taking out every bit of fruit, i’ve learnt the best way to cut them so that i dont bruise or burst a single piece, if your impatient and not careful you’ll waste a lot of the fruit. Good things take time, sometimes a little more work but its worth it to me” - Namjoons still giving you that look; he’s finished his tea and you take his moment of silence to walk to the counter and brew a small pot of mint tea for him, giving him a bit of time to ponder.

When you return, fill his cup and put just the right amount of honey, he blurts out the first thing on his mind, its clumsy, he always is, its cute, you really like it.

“Teach me someday- how to do it” - He says, you look up after and your heart skips a beat, he’s looking at you with so much admiration that you breathe out shakily, warm all over, wrapping yourself in a blanket, gently kneading it with your hands and you nod, promising you will. He sits back when you do, his own heart in his ears, it feels like a promise far deeper than just teaching him how to cut a piece of fruit.

Distracted, he hardly notices how the tea is steaming and just as he lifts his cup to take a sip, you reach out, guiding his hand back down to the table slowly so that he doesn’t spill it, your blanket shifting off your shoulder as you do so, you’re half knelt on the chair to reach over, having brought your legs up and under you. Maybe it’s a little too intimate to other people; you’re basically nesting. Namjoon lets you, encourages it, and feels far less tired for some reason at it.

“It’s hot” - Is all you say and he nods, smiling a little sheepishly, noting to let it cool down before you have to stop him from running straight into disaster again. You giggle at his expression, its music to his ears, he finds himself joining.

You continue your quiet push and pull of the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself, blinking slowly and your eyes drooping a little but theres no where you’d rather be, not even your nest. It’s true that listening to what your omega wants does feel good, a little bit of light nesting right here in his company is bold but you don’t hold back. Namjoon feels like he could be holding you here, speaks the obvious to give you an out but you shut him down.

“You’re tired” - He says, looking at you with mild concern. You’re nearly nesting right in front of him-—surely you’re uncomfortable, right? You’re not, you feel quite content actually.

“I’m happy” - And Namjoon’s melting all over again, he’ll stay right here until you want to leave. A quiet happy grumble rising in his throat as he cant pry his eyes off of your light nesting right in front of him. So intimate. Safe and comfortable.

Namjoon tends to reveal small things about himself gradually, randomly, either in his stories or just in a sentence in the silence. You smile and register each and every one, mentally noting them and, when its right, giving your input.

His imperfections feel so welcomed by you, each and every one, he can be himself, no expectations, no underlying standard.

He’s travelled, to so many places, something about your input makes him want to do it all over again and more, but in your way this time, go where the wind takes him, hes a romantic at heart and so are you. He wants to go with you this time.

When its finally time to go tonight, he’ll walk you home, walk a lot closer than usual, arms brushing and fingers occasionally reaching out to dance over eachothers, you don’t need to confront how you both want to be hand in hand, it’s a silent agreement. For now, you’ll both settle with this. Subconsciously, you lean a little into Namjoon’s warmth, just like your omega wants and Namjoon leans his own body just a little closer for you. Omegas run colder after all, and alphas run a whole lot warmer.

At your apartment building, you’ll be brave, listen to your omega, and reach out, wrap your arms around Namjoon’s middle, press your face to his chest and while your wrap is certain and soft, Namjoon’s arms wrapping all around your back and down to your own waist is tight, almost desperate with how fast he responds; pulling you even closer until your feet are between his own, your move the affirmation he needed to show his appreciation for you. His head is dipped down, subtly nuzzling into your hair, not quite scenting even if he wants too. You feel so good in his arms, they’re strong and protective and you feel so calm, so settled.

You breathe him in deep, he breathes you in deeper, both your hearts pumping in sync. The stars aligned. Not just for you and Namjoon, but for 6 other souls, in the heart of Seoul.

These evenings will later be ones you realise are moments you consider to be love, you’ll cherish them, every single one, every before and every to come. Your last two months have been full of love youll later recognise, from your dance with Taehyung, your chats with Namjoon, Yoongi’s quiet care, your walks with Jimin and Jungkook, the list goes on. You won’t realise it just yet, not so quickly - not to the extent that it is at least - neither, none of you will, but soon, amidst one of your moments of silence, you both will. For now, they are simply, or not so simply, exactly what they are.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed todays chapter

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Mwah 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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[meowforluv]

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter Four ‘Sweetest Rain’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warnings - doctors appointment, discussion of medical concerns, effects of exhaustion physically, feelings of uncertainty, so much fluff it’s actually a warning, lmk if there’s any more xx

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

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Author Notes - Ugh I love this chapter so much. 13k words of LOVE. well, kinda.

I wrote this so quickly in comparison to other chapter and I was aiming for 8k… yeah that went out of the window.

I just love them, i love where its going, i have so many ideas and ugh just so cute.

“Your scents sweetening again Y/nie, when are you next seeing Dr. Kim?” - Soojin nags, her voice quiet across the counter whilst you both prepare drinks. It makes you frown a little because, in the last few days—dare I say maybe it started a week or two ago?—your scent has been flaring randomly, a little sweeter and heady. 

Luckily for you, you obviously use scent blockers, but in close proximity, your friends can differentiate your usual scent from a sweeter version, an indication of your impending heat, but you're not due for your heat for at least another month. 

Dr. Kim is your doctor for checking your omega biological needs; you go to see her every 3 months, a week before you're scheduled to enter pre-heat and start symptoms. Shes dear to you; your comfortability with her spreads far since you’ve gone to her since you were 13, as most omegas begin to see their doctor regularly as signs of puberty set in. 

This routine is one of the many things you keep on top of to ensure your health and state are completely in your hands, whilst it would be a lot more laid back for an alpha or beta; as an omega, one without a pack and anyone you try to rely on, you are quite tight on these smaller things. You go every 3 months without fail. This time though, you're going to have to schedule an extra appointment.

“Not for another few weeks… maybe I should try to schedule another appointment sooner.” You mumble it out, not entirely happy because you never get your heat early-—it's perfectly on time every 3 months, 4 times a year, without any interruptions. You don't have any other symptoms, just the flaring of your scent and increased nesting instincts, but if it's going to come early, you're going to be prepared for it.

“That sounds best; now, go say hi to one of your lovesick puppies that has just walked in” - Your pushing at her shoulder and scold her immediately, scowling and denying her words because the ‘one of your lovesick puppies’ is her new way of referring to the 7 alphas who have recently started to attend more often. 

“They are just customers.” 

“Aish, im just being friendly.”

“It’s hardly special treatment.”

“I care for all my customers like that.”

Yeah, your friends have heard all the ‘excuses’ - as they call them - not believing a word you say although you insist there's nothing special about them, right? “Taehyung! Oh, new hair!” - You gush and fret over Taehyung’s freshly cut hair, refusing to let the disappointed frown settle over your lips because it was just so fluffy before- it looks amazing now but before - 

“Ah yeah, it’s a little short, no?” - He runs his hands through it effortlessly, but it makes you capture the jewellery decorating his wrist and hands; he's always well put together, favouring elegance most of the time when he comes in. Even when he's in some sweats, he somehow makes it look put together. Taehyung spins his head a little to show it off, seeing you lean in to observe whether you agree, and he catches your fingers twitch - from wanting to run your fingers through it - although you never would, of course. 

“It’s shorter, but it really suits you, although I do like the grown-out look” - You admit, you’re always honest with them, expressing what you really think, and you know your opinion won’t hurt Taehyungs feelings, so you tell him it, and he likes that. 

“Mmm, it was fluffier, right?” - Taehyungs fishing for your reaction without you even knowing, smiling teasingly and wiggling his eyebrows when you nodded firmly, not catching on until he continues.

“Do you want to touch it? Feel if it's still just as soft?” - Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows at you before breaking out into his boxy smile at your stunned look, your gaze switching between his hair and his face over and over, not knowing how to respond before lightly swatting his arm rested on the counter

“Aish, don’t be silly, Taehyung” - Your smile shows you’re also only playing, then you move on to taking his order, but whilst you do so, he freezes momentarily. 

Just as Soojin mentioned just a few minutes ago, your scent flurries around you in a sweet burst, no reason behind it and in such close proximity, Taehyung stills, breathing in a little too deep and his brain falters; he can see the scent blockers under your ears so why- 

He’s launching back with a big gulp, standing upright to put a little distance and not get even more affected than he already is by your scent because he’s holding back a rumble in his chest and his alpha is clawing at him to get in a little closer and get hooked on the scent, which he refuses to do because he has basic manners, for god’s sake; he’s not an alpha going through puberty. 

The rest of your interaction goes without much of a problem; he’s taking his sweet frappe to go. You’ve learnt Taehyung doesn’t like coffee, and you approve- harder for him to have unhealthy amounts of caffeine through it this way. He likes a singular teaspoon - just under, to be specific - in his teas, of all kinds, unless it's the citron tea, in which he takes a large and has nearly two teaspoons. You just prepare it for him at this point; he's always so appreciative of it too, gushing and exaggerating his approval to see you laugh. You’ve progressed your friendships with them all a lot since your meeting, maybe a little closer with the rappers, but you’ve warmed up to the vocal line very quickly, as they have to you. 

You speak more with Jungkook and Jimin on your late-night run-ins at the convenience store than at the cafe. Taehyung is just like this—fun, friendly, warm, a little teasing and flirty, but you can give it right back when he offers it. It's comfortable and the kind of interaction that really brightens your day. 

Maybe you shouldn’t admit it, but that’s why you’re extra quick to pick up on any day he’s not feeling as happy, just like with Hoseok; if they aren’t happy, it’s such a stark difference that it has you frowning the second they aren’t walking in with a bright smile. With Taehyung, it hasn't been often enough for you to work out a real way to help. What you have done is always make sure to put the jazz music he's so partial to next on the playlist when he comes in and write a little poetry quote on a small paper to give to him when you give him his drink - an interest you’ve found you both share. 

Jin, oh Jin, he's so attentive it's criminal. He's gentle and soft-spoken despite how intimidatingly handsome he is. Alongside that, he never misses a thing, and he's firm in how he shows his concern for you, no matter how much you brush it off.

“You’re trembling” - He first points it out on a late Wednesday, refraining from taking your hands within his own. It was just not a great day; a couple of rude and straining interactions, your back hurting a little more today, burning yourself on a batch of cookies that early morning—it just all seemed to add up, and your body was bearing its edge. 

“Ah, its just a habit.” - You wave him off and get back to preparing his drink but you can hear him over your shoulder

“No, that’s a reaction to your body being overworked; you should be at home in a nest right now” - Of course, Jin didn’t say this right off the bat the first time you met; he’d seen it many times at this point, alongside your other small symptoms, the rashes, the strained muscles—you get it. 

You look at him in surprise because theres no denying that but to mention an omega’s nest - even in passing - is incredibly intimate and you cant stop the flushing of your cheeks and your stuttered response

“It-I’ll be okay; I’ll do that soon...” - You mumble the last part, blushing furiously as you let on that you will indeed rest in your nest later but although Jin knows it’s intimate and nowhere near his place to comment as an alpha-—one not in your pack-—he does it from a place of concern; he might be blatantly pushing an unspoken boundary but he sees it in you too often not to say anything

“It’s nearly closing, isn’t it? You’ll go straight home?” - He pushes; he has too

“I still have to do some baking prep for tomorrow, a few cakes and uh, pretzels, i think” - You mutter out in response, feeling scolded, but also something within you feels warm, and maybe there's a purr threatening to spill out from the care he's showing—which is ridiculous, you tell yourself to get it together. 

“One day without a few extra options of bakes won't hurt.” 

“Ah, but even Joonie won't get his pretzel.” - You awkwardly chuckle, so attached to your work that it feels awfully wrong to even consider letting go of some of your duties for the day; it has you shifting and looking down at your trembling hands. Maybe they wont do much good in this state after all…

“Then he won’t get one; he can live. Go home, get a good rest, nest, you need it.” - Jin is clearly passionate about it; he also seems to be at least somewhat versed in omega biology. You shift but take a deep breath because your instincts are clawing at you to agree, to do exactly as he says because he's so clearly trying to help; his voice might be firm, but it's dripping with concern, and the small frown on his lips is genuine. 

“Okay…” - His approval is worth having a few less cakes for tomorrow. he wants to reach out and ruffle your messy hair, but instead, he smiles, nodding and then he replying without thinking and immediately regrets it

“Good Omega” - The way your eyes widen and cheeks flare is something almost animated, holding back a purr, although a singular syllable indicating it leaves your mouth before you slap a hand over it, mortified at your reaction, and you and Jin just stare at each other in pure shock before you have to break the contact because omg did he really just say that?!- just call you that- your hearts beating out loud at this point and omg why do you feel soft and a little dazey- 

“Im sorry i dont know what happened that just slipped out-” - Jin is staring at you absolutely mortified with himself-—how that just happened is out of his knowledge; hes blushing furiously, but within him he's holding back a rumble from your reaction, an approving growl trying to vibrate out of his throat, and he has no idea what you are doing to them, but this is becoming a regular sort of occurrence- you giving them all this feeling.

“Its okay!-” - You blurt out, a bit too hasty, laughing shyly and handing over Jin’s drink, your fingers grazing his own as he takes it and it sends sparks through your hand and arm, only getting more flushed and your pupils dilating a little more- wow you really need to shake yourself out of it

“...nest.” - Jin hesitates to say it again, but he meets your eyes, his embarrassment still evident, pushed aside to make sure you will, and you nod firmly, a small ‘mhm’ falling from your lips before he turns to leave. Its safe to say you scream to yourself in silence behind the counter afterwards and try to slow your heart and suppress your purrs from his words.

You do as he says though, reluctantly abandoning the few extra bakes to go home, have a shower, and jump straight into your nest in some fresh pyjamas, now openly purring and rolling around, pupils heavily dilated and cheeks flushed intensely as you can't get those two words out of your head- what are they doing to you?!

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Your Saturday is cut short at work to go and attend the soonest appointment you could get with Dr. Kim, the lady is a beta, mid-50s, looks amazing for her age, and is so motherly it warms your heart. Despite being a beta, a lot of her family are omegas and have medical care histories dating back decades, always sharing her home remedies and advice with you. 

You're called in from the sterile, quiet waiting room to her slightly warmer room; it's equally as sterile, of course, but has attention to small details to make it just a bit more welcoming. There are beanbags in the corner, all the other chairs are loaded with extra pillows, and there is a pile of blankets of all sizes, textures, and materials in the corner, and the walls are painted a very light, pastel yellow rather than white. 

“My Y/n!, how have you been, dear?” - She's as enthusiastic as ever, ushering you to sit down and instantly handing you a fruit candy, as she has done since you came to her for the very first time when you were 13, so nervous you were trembling. She fussed and draped a blanket over your shoulder and handed you a candy, ensuring there was nothing to be worried about, and it just stuck. 

“Yeah, I’ve been good mostly!” - You smile back and shrug because, well, you wouldn't be here if you were just incredible.

“The cafe?” - Discussing possible stress factors - jobs especially when it comes to omegas - is a vital part of your checkups so Dr. Kim is up to date with everything about your cafe, from long before it became reality “Amazing, a dream come true” - You can’t help but gush, sighing out happily as you think about it, and she listens intently, no note-taking yet, no checking over random details on anything because she knows and remembers you; as close as you hold her to your heart, she holds you to hers. 

“Oh, im so proud, truly.” “Now, we aren't due another check-up for a few more weeks; why now?” - She doesn’t try to hide the mild concern in her voice because you never have had to book extra appointments really; your cycle and behaviour have been regular and expected despite your lifestyle. 

“I’ve been having random flushes of my scent sweetening and strengthening, just bursts or it randomly and i need to nest a lot more intensely and nothing ever quite seems right recently” - Dr.Kim hums, intrigued and now noting down your symptoms and carrying out the rest of her questions regarding it

“Well, you aren't due for your heat yet; are you still using scent blocker patches?” - She’s more so questioning whether you’ve been trying a new alternative rather than anything else

“Yes, most days.”

“Okay, so they shouldn't affect anything since they aren't hormonal. Have you been stressed?” - Avoiding her stare that just says ‘give it to me straight’ is incredibly hard, has your voice rising a pitch as you answer

“I don't think so, not in like a new stress-factor sort of way?”

“And what about the things we discussed before: the shaking, muscle pain, and rashes?” - She asks because your scent and instincts tie in to these so tightly; it's a relevant connection, and she knows you push yourself, no matter how much anyone protests. It’s partially the reason she feels so strongly about you, sharing more than just typical medical advice and all of the things she’s learnt from her family to help you in any way you let her. 

“Mm, well, yeah, it's still there.” - You look down to avoid her eyes, and you can actually feel the expression she gives you, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“More?” 

“Maybe…”

“Okay, can you just remove your sweatshirt? I’ll have a look at these rashes,” you sigh out and stand, removing it like she says and knowing you’re going to be in for her fussing and scolding in just a few moments. It’s not like they look awful—far from it; they are just there though, and admittedly they are larger than they were when they began to appear.

“Okay, so the maybe is definitely a yes. Are they painful?” - She hovers her fingers over the one leading a little line from your neck to your shoulder blade, another just around the right side of your hip. 

“Only a little sometimes; they come and go though; none are permanent,” - You say as if that's any better, and maybe it is; at least they go. Dr.Kim sighs out and tells you that you can put your sweatshirt back on

“I'm going to prescribe you some ointment for them; you really do need to do a few less hours though; it's taking a toll on you.” 

“I know…” - You look away, rubbing your arm as you can feel her frown and concern for you; easier said than done. You are the only baker for the cafe, and you set yourself high expectations. While you don't have to work every day as you do realistically, you could hire new employees; that's not exactly straightforward. Your co-workers are some of your best friends; they do insist they can do more days and hours, but it feels almost like pity from them, and you don't want that.

“This could be the reason for your scent and nesting changes, but…maybe”

“Maybe?” “Have you happened to… meet… anyone recently or engage in activity with anyone?”

“No!” - You blurt it out, blushing in embarrassment because, as normal as it is, Dr.Kim is like a second mother to you, and speaking to her about that, as natural as it is, always does make you embarrassed.

“Okay, so you aren't sexually active with anyone right now, but have you been in any kind of romance with anyone? Maybe someone new?” - You don't know why, but you consider telling her about the seven alphas you met, but that would simply be ridiculous because you have no sort of romantic relations with them. Yeah, they make you blush occasionally, but that's nothing, right? Surely not. Definitely not, so you brush it off; it's just you overthinking and going through absolutely anyone you’ve met. 

Your inner turmoil is enough of an answer for Dr. Kim and although she knows you probably wont admit it, she’ll give a reply anyway

“Alright, so I think there are two possibilities: these could just be added symptoms of your body reacting to you overworking yourself, as I've said before, or… if you possibly have met someone, your body could either be trying to react to them and the change in dynamic, or your omega wants to induce your heat earlier in response.”

“What do I do?”

“We still have our 3-month checkup in a few weeks. If nothing changes, the nesting might settle down a little, or your scent occasionally fluctuates but not at an increased rate. I think it will be okay as long as you have no other symptoms, and we will just go ahead then. However, if you get any more symptoms of your heat, if the feelings intensify, call me; we can do some blood work, look further into it, and discuss more. How does that sound?” - She finishes typing and refocuses on you, truly asking for your opinion, and you know if you were to request blood work and further details right now, that she’d oblige, but you trust her; you trust that you can just be overthinking and this can be a mild flare. 

“Yeah, okay, that sounds good…” “You can always call me Y/N, you know that; as soon as you're concerned, just call, alright?”

“If it comes to your heat approaching too soon, we can look into temporary suppressants to set it back to put it on track. It should be preventable, okay? Dont stress Y/n” - She can see the tension in your body as you consider the possibilities, and it's really not doing you any favours; at this rate you'll only induce more symptoms and worry yourself further, but Dr. Kim's reassurance that you'll be able to get it back on track is enough for you to let out a sigh and nod.

She asks you a few basic and casual questions to finish up with, easing your mind and allowing you to relax. Believe me, she doesn't let you leave without an earful about how you need to slow down and that if there is someone, you should let them embrace and help you. She's practically chasing you out with the words, still mumbling as you're walking down the corridor to leave the clinic, and the receptionist gives you a knowing smile, Dr.Kim turning back into her office with a shake of her head. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

Back at the Bangtan's shared penthouse, Yoongi and Hoseok are hosting a v-live to connect with army a bit more, not having done so very often recently due to their schedules. They are enjoying a meal and casually talking whilst Hoseok occasionally leans over to read over the comments.

“I hope you eat well. We will; you should too army” - Hoseok takes a big spoonful of rice to affirm his words and then Yoongi finds it to be a relevant point of discussion

“You know, I think I’ve gained weight recently” - Yoongi would put it down to them having a bit of a break before getting more intense for performances again, but that wouldn’t be the truth. The truth is he's grown a strong liking to your bakes and is dipping in some days more than once to grab something; he's noticed just a little extra layer of softness around his abdomen, and the rest of his body is definitely thicker - like his arms and chest. Not that he minds; he will work it off once they start up again anyway. 

The comments flood with things such as disagreement that he has and saying he looks great and praise for him eating well

“Wah, you know, I think I have too” - Hoseok is obviously dancing whenever he's got a second to enjoy and spare, which leads his body to be lean and subtly muscular, but he's also put on a little bit of weight, converted into muscle, making his arms a bit thicker and his face just a tad less bony, and the fans say he looks good, that it suits him. 

“You know I heard Namjoon saying the same a few days ago.” 

“Hmm, yeah, he mentioned it in the studio; it's healthy.”

“Ah yeah, thighs.” “Arms.”

Both of them look at each other and laugh, knowing Namjoon is probably thoroughly embarrassed at the comments flooding in from their comments

“I’ve had a random sweet tooth recently,” - Yoongi carries on, mentioning it without really thinking too much about it. “So have I; it is not like me.” - Hoseok agrees, shaking his head and not deeping it much either 

“I think we all have; maybe it's because we eat a lot of savoury, just having a sort of sugar craze.” - Yoongi gets a hum in reply before they fall into a short silence whilst Hoseok reads the rest of the comments

“Spoiler? Noo.”

About an hour later, Yoongi gets a call from Jimin and excuses himself momentarily, coming back and ending the live because he needs to be picked up, something about not being allowed to walk back home ‘especially not in this weather’.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Running into Jungkook and Jimin at the convenience store has become a semi-regular sort of thing; sometimes it's both, sometimes just one of them. Each and every time they insist on walking you home, even if you reassure them you’ll be fine at first, after a month it just sort of stuck; you’d leave the store and just walk; they know the way at this point. 

It’s ten minutes where you have meaningless conversations usually, just talking about this and that, interests, random stories—you get it. Even then, there are some topics you three kind of just silently avoid: packs, relationships, things like that. Of course there are opportunities where you all joke and push and tease each other over things related to them, but it never goes further than that.

You look forward to it; it's not like it's scheduled, or that you go at the exact same time every night down to the minute; you leave it down to chance, so do they. Just like tonight, already browsing the ramen as if you’ll choose something different from usual - you won’t; you never do. A smile settles on your face at the citrussy and floral scent that floods your nose; it's always cut with this underlying sort of woody musk. To put it into a singular word? Romantic. It's uniquely unisex really; the floral aspect is typically seen as feminine, but the citrus and musk add an addicting kind of masculinity to it all. If you breathe it in hard enough, there's even a little bit of vanilla underneath. Jimin. 

Just on cue, your earphone is gently removed from one ear, and spinning around, the culprit is right there with his hoodie over his head and a big smile, and he’s ready to make a half-sarcastic comment like ‘Fancy seeing you here’ as if this isn’t half expected on most of your visits now. 

“Fancy catching you here on this fine evening, sugar” - Jimin giggles out, just as expected, having stepped back to give you distance rather than be right in your face, and the gentle shove you give him at the nickname only makes him laugh a little harder. Like I said, the nickname stuck. 

“Jimin” - You practically sigh out, not the annoyed kind, the warm sort of sigh. He’s a joy to be around; if you could compare how it feels to be with him on these nights, it’s like the warm breeze on a summer’s night, even if it’s just entering spring and the nights are still particularly cold. Jungkook’s company on these nights would be something a little colder, equally as comforting. It's what you imagine riding a motorcycle or a convertible car would feel like in the spring: wind cold but the exhilarating rush you’d get from it enough to keep you feeling just a little warmer. 

“The usual?” - Jimin questions, raising his eyebrows at you and standing beside you, looking at the selection; he likes a range of different ramens, rotating between them and trying something new every time. Sometimes he comments on them the next time you see each other, saying they were or weren't worth it, a silent suggestion, but in the few weeks he’s gotten to know you, he’s picked up that you don't really change your pick; you like what you like, and that's perfectly okay. 

“Hm, I don't know; I might try something different.” - But just like I said, you don't. Contemplate for just a few more moments and pick up that same ramen, Jimin already nodding and smiling knowingly as he picks out his own. You have said it before: the outcome is always the same. Maybe you say it more so for yourself; try to convince yourself you will differ from routine, but in the end you won't. 

After the usual chat you have with Mrs. Han, you both head outside and immediately begin to walk, talking about the last few days.

“Did you feel that?” - Jimin asks, wiping his head where a singular drop of water hit him, You're about 7 minutes in, just a few minutes from your apartment, a turn away from the road, and you frown in confusion before you feel it too, a few drops.

Within a moment, a mere few drops of rain turn into what you could consider a heavy spring shower. You're both in hoodies, no coat because whilst it's cold, it's not that cold. You look at each other in surprise for a moment, and your brain is moving 100 mph; you're hardly a 45-second sprint away from your apartment, versus Jimin, who would have to go a substantial distance to get back to the shop, let alone his home. It’s cold; he’s not wearing any rain clothing. You’ve come to a stop, and at this rate, the paths could get slippery fast; even if he did try to get home fast, you can guarantee he’d either catch a cold or slip, maybe both. You can’t let that happen—especially not when the whole reason he’s so far in the other direction is because he’s walking you home. 

You’ve come to a stop, and without a second more, your hoodie already beginning to soak through, you reach out, grabbing his wet hand and dashing in the direction of your apartment building, dragging him along. He lets out a surprised noise at being pulled so quickly and at the contact, but you’ve got one thing set in your mind, and that’s to get you both - more specifically him - out of the rain, and you do just that. 

You’re hardly sprinting, more so just doing a light jog and you kind of realise what you’ve instinctively done after you’ve already began 

“Come on!” - Maybe you can’t help the smile that settles on your lips, water splashing all around you both, and to the side of you, Jimin’s laugh rings through the air, amused; this is fun. 

He’s at your side now, more going at your pace than his own; you’re lightly jogging, he’s fast walking, and there’s not really a reason to keep holding his hand anymore. Despite that, he manoeuvres your hand, and you nearly pull it clean away in horror of yourself, but that's not what Jimin was going for; instead, he intertwines your fingers and picks up his pace a little, you following. 

Jimin’s laugh is contagious, yours following and cutting through the heavy downpour is both of you splashing with your running, holding hands and barely avoiding slipping, rain and laughter. 

Jimin’s hand is warm despite the cold air and rain, bigger than yours, and it envelopes you whole, and it’s nice, more than nice, having you giggling for a whole other reason besides the childlike situation you’re both stuck in. It seems more like you're both just playing in the spring shower rather than trying to get to shelter, entire outfits soaked through, but there isn't anything but bright smiles on your faces. 

When your building comes into view, you pull him a little faster up the steps, and without letting go of his hand, you punch in the code, ripping the door open and surprising him by pulling him into the hallway. 

You’re panting; he’s not. He’s used to physical activity, but he’s breathing a little heavier, your laughs hardly dying out in the silent hall. Rain’s hitting the clear door rapidly, blurring your view of the outside, and it’s only when you both calm a little that you realise just what you’ve done. 

“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping just yet.” - You say, a little purse of your lips as you stare out, Jimin would of just booked it home; you wouldn’t have that

“Yeah, came out of nowhere.” - You look at him and contemplate; its surely inappropriate to suggest, but- you can’t just let him stay in soaked clothes, go back out and all of that 

“You’re going to catch a cold” - Your voice is laced with concern, not hesitation. 

“Ah, I’ll be fine” - Jimin brushes it off although he can feel his body start to shiver a little; you can feel it from his hand where you’re both still connected. He watches you stay silent for a moment, looking at the lift and then back at him, expression begging him not to take this the wrong way. 

“You can’t go back out there yet, and you need dry clothes” - You gently tug his hand towards the lifts, what you’re suggesting clear despite not directly saying it, but your pull is just enough to allow him to protest should he want to; your grip says different, holding on a little tighter like you really don’t want him to go back out there. Internally, you couldn’t suppress your instincts screaming at you to push him upstairs, order him into clean and warm clothes, and dry his hair; tell him to stay put until you’re certain it’s not going to rain any more tonight, but you can’t voice that, of course not. 

Jimin catches on and is shocked, to say the least. He makes a little noise but blindly follows your pull, not knowing just what to say yet until you're in the elevator and you're punching in your floor number. Thats when a stilling realisation settles in and Jimin turns to you in hesitation and a little bit of fear

“Wait- Y/n your pack- i cant come in to your pack den, what about-” - You still for a moment realising- oh right- he doesn't know; of course not. You can’t blame him for assuming; it’s certainly very rare, and you appreciate his thoughtfulness.

“It’s okay; it’s just me” - You nod and still give him the chance to protest again, but his face morphs into one of shock again, mouth agape for a little moment, and his mind spirals back to that first day, the rap line commenting and saying they didn’t think you had one but you were comfortable with that, and now it’s confirmed. Schooling his face back into one of only a little hesitation.

There are a few moments of silence between you before you grow a small blush on your face at how you've acted the last few minutes-—instinctual.

“Sorry for dragging you here like this” - You murmur out, not meeting Jimin’s eyes, but he doesn’t think you have a single thing to apologise for. Deep within him, his alpha is singing praises about you and you so clearly showing your need to take care of him; hes pushing all the little comments and thoughts about it right down to answer coherently 

“You dont have to apologise-—and, you dont have to do this, you know; it’s okay.” - Because he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to invite him in to a space so sacred, simply because the weather took a turn, doesnt want you to go against what you really want to do if this isn’t that

“Are you okay with it?” - You throw right back, bracing yourself for him to blatantly reject you, press the button to go right back down to the ground floor and leave, but that's not what happens. Instead, Jimin squeezes your hand in his-—oh, you hadnt realised you were still holding it- it causes you to look up at him and he gives you a sweet smile, the reassuring kind and firmly nods

“Only if you are” - And you are- you haven't known him all that long, really, so it's weird how you aren't at all against him being in your home-—where your nest is. You return his smile and nod.

Right on cue, the elevator dings, and you walk down the hall slowly, towards your apartment and then notice, opposite, there’s a package sitting outside Mr. and Mrs. Lee’s door, an elderly couple that maybe didn’t hear someone deliver it, and before going towards your own door, you walk to theirs. You know that Mr.Lee will still be awake at this time, so you tug Jimin with you and knock on their door. He just watches, curious, especially when the door opens after a few moments, revealing a man with grey hair, his face morphing into one that can only be described as joy and parental love when he finds it’s you. 

“Y/n! How are you, dear?” - He moves closer to embrace you only to notice you standing with someone he’s never seen before, an alpha, and raises his brows before breaking into a knowing smile.

“Finally found a nice boy, huh?” - You burn bright. Embarrassed and realising what it looks like, Jimin also smiles and giggles a little. Ah, he seems nice, Mr.Lee thinks, always open to giving his opinion without being asked; he's got good intuition.

“Oh! It’s not like that Mr.Lee-” - You scramble to answer and shake your head, eyes practically closed with your embarrassment, but Mr.Lee ignores your denial and visibly assesses Jimin. To break to the point, you reach down and hand him the package.

“This was outside the door” - You gently hand it over, and he merely gives you a smile before refocusing on Jimin. Jimin’s never felt more scrutinised in his life, wanting to shrink back a little but standing tall and confident, calm, and Mr.Lee nods at him approvingly.

“Thank you, dear- You better look after her; she's sweet, this one. Don’t even think about so much as putting even a small frown on her face.” He stands stern and points accusingly at Jimin; you scramble to shake your free hand and rattle the bag as you do so, mortified at his assumption and your quick to try and end this interaction

“Theres no need for that Mr.Lee-”

“I won’t” - Jimin replies to him despite your scrambling, and Mr.Lee is stone-faced for a second before nodding, believing him, and you are absolutely writhing with embarrassment.

“Have a nice night Mr.Lee, ill bring you both some cakes tomorrow morning.” - You mumble out, cheeks redder than they’ve ever been, and you turn as soon as you can, walking towards your own door as you hear Mr.Lee return his thanks and close his door.

“Im so sorry-”

“Stop apologising for things, Y/n, its okay” - Jimin lets out a little laugh, genuine; he really doesn’t mind. He guesses Mr. Lee holds you dear to his heart; that's good. You seem like a beacon of light no matter where you are and who you're with. 

“Aish…” - You mumble, entering the code to your own home and opening the door, shoulders visibly dropping once the comforting scent of your home fills your nose, and Jimin can barely get two steps in the door without freezing and inhaling deeply. Its you, everywhere, obviously but its so full of you- Your scent sweet, heavy, borderline suffocating but not in a bad way-

Your apartment is similar to your cafe in the vibe you create; appearance-wise, it’s similar but in a different palette, much more filled with pastels. Trinkets and sentimental items are doted around everywhere, pillows and blankets in every corner and its so cozy Jimin forgets he's standing there shivering until you tug him a little harder to close the door and then reluctantly drop his hand.

“You can-—uh, you can sit down if you’d like I’ll get some clothes for you” - You are barely a few seconds of being inside before you are dashing off down a small hallway, towards your room he guesses, mumbling something about the clothes your sure you have somewhere-

You didn’t rush off without gently pushing a hand flat on Jimin’s chest towards the couch, urging him to sit, but he gets a bit distracted by the contact, placing a hand where you had just pushed as if savouring your touch. He takes a second, looking at the couch and opting out of sitting on it because he's in wet clothes; he's not ruining your pretty and soft setup by getting it damp. He instead opts for one of the stools around your kitchen island—less mess. 

With the few minutes you disappear, Jimin takes in what's happening, what happened, where he is, and what this is. He finds himself slumping the more and more he breathes in your air; it's dizzying, unfiltered, unrestrained versus how you have always got a scent blocker on. 

Inside him, his alpha is growling in praise and delight, telling him he should absolutely do anything you want him to do before you even get a chance to request it—instincts pawing at him unrestrained—and he's so deeply embedded in his own mind that he only snaps out of it when you come back in mumbling about something before locating him, freezing in the hallway entrance at his scent flooding you again. 

Your push towards the couch was the start of your doting; you rushed off into your room-—your nest—and instantly pulled out a drawer in which you knew you kept a particular pair of fluffy pyjama pants, too long for you so you always had to roll them up a few times, but on Jimin, they could be just right. 

You’re petting over them, pursing your lips and your omegas checking the softness of the fabric. is it soft enough for an alpha in your home- You have to stop yourself in mortification as your next instinct is to scent the trousers-—rub it all over your cheek, your neck, your wrist, fluff your scent around you so its positively stuck onto it and presenting them on a platter to Jimin-—sweet, sweet alpha, so kind and polite and so perfect-

You refrain, barely. Refocusing to get another piece of clothing, one of your many oversized hoodies, one that you would wear to bed in the colder seasons and only that, long enough to cover you to your mid/lower thighs but maybe a better fit on Jimin. You’re once again fretting over the softness and whether it’ll be the right size; it’s thick enough to keep him warm, but your apartment is also on the warmer side anyway; you prefer it that way, sates your omega needs. 

Once again, you resist scenting them heavily even though they definitely smell like you already; being so close to your nest and all- you hardly look at it. Different from usual because when you get home, the first thing you seek out is your nest. A thought-—an image-—passes through your mind: You leading Jimin towards your nest and fluffing everything around him, making it all just right and looking at him for approval. Then you snap out of your omega haze and shake your head in disapproval of yourself, folding the two pieces of clothing and setting out back towards your main space in the apartment. 

Your living room and kitchen are open plan; you like it like that; the smell of your baking easily floods through the rest of the home that way. You’re expecting to see Jimin on the couch, where you’d urged him and when you dont find him there, but on a kitchen stool, your mind runs wild. A mixture of disapproval for him not being somewhere more comfortable but also approval for him being considerate of being in wet clothes - even though you wouldnt of minded having to put some blankets in the dryer after. 

Jimin himself is sitting silently there, not even looking around and his scent is flitting around you in small bursts, enough to stop you in your tracks and have to gulp - you don’t have people here often, your space is entirely filled with you but this, having him here is- okay? Nice even.

Enough of that, enough of your silly thoughts. You always do tend to overly get instinctual when your home- of course, its the only place you allow yourself to fully give in to it all so you cant be blamed for your thoughts. 

Jimin snaps out of it and looks at you with a soft smile, eyeing the clothes in your hands and he could protest- he could insist you really dont need to do this but he can see the instincts swimming in your eyes, has felt it since you grabbed his hand and started to pull him through the rain and something tells him to just oblige, let you dote on him and care because you need this.

“I have some clothes for you” - You look to the side, across the room where he notices another door, ignored in his dwelling of his thoughts and you silently command him to follow you towards it, which he does.

You open it, another bathroom; you have one connected to your room, and this one is rarely used-—bigger than yours but less convenient. It's stocked up with your products anyway: shampoo, conditioner, body washes, skincare, and fresh warm towels on the radiator. 

Jimin steps in slowly; this room doesn't smell as much like you, and it clears his head a little. He watches you gently place the pile of clothes on the counter by the sink and turn to him, never failing to shock him as you reach out for his hand, feel all over it, run the back of your own hand over it again, and frown. You’re assessing his temperature and come to a conclusion; it might be a little pushy.

“You can change in here but- you should really shower; your still cold. you need to warm up or your going to get a cold. theres products in the shower, towels just there and skincare in the cabinet- you dont have too, of course but- just-” - You go from talking calmly and slowly to panicking at the end, mentally scolding yourself for feeling like you're overstepping so many boundaries and Jimin won't have any of that; instead, he holds your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. He’s affectionate; he’s always been one of the touchiest in the group, and as much as he would love to wrap you in a hug, this is all he feels is right as of now.

“Thank you Y/n” - Its not dismissive; he's not forcing you away; he is simply appreciating your words and your fretting. You nod, turning away and speaking before you leave and close the door.

“Ill just be in my bathroom in my room- if you need anything, just shout” - He nods, and that’s enough to calm your instincts a little, even more so when you close the door and hear him turn on the shower. 

Now to shower yourself.

Jimin’s quick to undress, stripping away all of the wet clothes and running his hands through his wet hair, turning on the shower and setting it to just the right temperature, glad that it’s easy to work. He has to change it from what it was on - what he would consider to be scalding - down to something less hot; he can't imagine that's the temperature you shower with - it is. Inside is everything he needs: you have copies of your own products, the marshmallow shampoo and conditioner you use, and a mildly scented body wash because you have sensitive skin. There's an unscented face wash as well, from a brand he's familiar with. 

The heat of the water running down him is welcomed; he takes a second to just let it rush over him, warm his body before he reaches for the shampoo. He can't stop himself from taking a few deep inhales of the scent; it's sweet, sugary, a little creamy, and so aligned with you it's dizzying. Odd to think he's also going to be using it; he’ll end up smelling like you a little, and that's a thought he has to halt instantly because if he keeps thinking like that the rumbling in his chest is only going to increase. 

After finishing up, he wraps his waist in a towel, shaking off his hair in the shower so he doesn’t flick water everywhere, kind of like Jungkook does, like a dog, except Jungkook likes to do it just about anywhere and doesn’t really care when the droplets hit the people around him. There's a smaller towel that he uses to roughly dry his hair and when he's done, he considers what to do with his pile of wet clothes, pushing them to the side momentarily and picking up the clothes you set out for him, dry, warm and fluffy with your scent. 

Good lord, it's going to be hard to hold back the urge to bury his face in them before he can even get them on and then even harder to stop the purr-like sound falling from his throat. Alphas don’t typically purr; they do, however, get a similar kind of sound when they are satisfied; it’s more of a rumble and a sweetened growl, though. It would be embarrassing to do it- especially front of you—but it's harder and harder to contain when he gets the clothes on. Theres still a singular roll in the bottom of the trousers that he has to undo to fall over the length of his legs and they sit low on his hips, fluffy and comforting, hes sure hes actually seen you wear these before on one of your run-ins. The hoodie is thick and soft, fits just right, perfectly oversized on him versus the extra extra oversized fit on you. 

He picks up his towels, folding them alongside folding his wet clothes and taking a split moment before leaving, just as you also leave your own room. 

You smell calmer, less frantic and certainly more like yourself, what does make him nearly trip though is you’ve taken off your scent blocker patches, the scent hitting him full force and he curses low under his breath, taking a moment to feign composition. 

You walk towards the large window and look out, frowning at the still heavy downpour, it doesnt seem to be letting up just yet. You can be forgiven for not noticing Jimin was out just yet, he smells a little bit too much like you to notice until your heavy scent fluffs a burst of his own and you spin on your heel.

“Do they fit okay?” - You rush over, grabbing his hand once again, feeling his temperature as best you can and nodding in approval that hes a lot warmer, you miss the shaky breathing hes suffering with because of your scent in this kind of proximity. Like him, you have wet, towel dried hair and fresh clothes on.

“Yeah they fit, thank you” - Jimin barely gets out, biting the inside of his lip because after he tried to breath through his mouth rather than his nose it just got more intense its like he could taste your scent. Hes a bit breathless, you put it down to the temperatures you leave the shower on but he assures he worked it out just fine. Then you notice the pile in his hands and reach out, giving him the option to pass them over

“I can go put your clothes in the dryer if youd like?” - Once again, Jimin’s noticing your own instincts playing up, even him touching the wet clothes seems to mildly unsettle you, shifting as you wait for his answer. He hands them over, gently placing them on your hands as if they are heavy and you are fragile, they arent and you aren’t but he will still treat you as if you are. He watches you run off for a moment to go to the utility room, putting them in the dryer and ona  quick dry, they only smell lightly of him due to the rain but its enough to remind you of his addictive scent and you nearly stumble on your way there, quickly saved.

Jimin can finally breathe with you a little bit further away although he kind of does want to suffocate in your scent- who said that?!

“It’s not finished yet” - Is the first thing you say with a frown and your arms crossed over your hoodie clad chest, referring to the rain as you both look out and Jimin worries that hes overstaying his welcome before you turn to him and begin to talk again.

“I’ll have a look on the weather app” - Then as you are about to grab your phone, you look up and notice his wet hair, frowning and he follows your eyes, reaching up and wiping it out of his face, offering a confused smile at your obvious disapproval.

“Dry your hair, you’ll get a cold- ill get my hairdryer” - Jimin barely has a chance to retort and say that you also have wet hair right now- and a lot more of it than him before your spinning off again and returning with a hairdryer, plugging it in near your couch, he goes to protest.

“Its really fine sugar, i wont catch a cold” - You’re hardly phased by the nickname when you stare at him in horror as if hes actually just said something highly illegal- Two seconds later hes yelping in surprise when you push him with a hand on his chest to sit on the couch behind him and he can’t deny that he does sink into the cloud-like mountain of pillow and blankets awfully fast. 

“Nonsense, stay” - You point and it’s suspiciously similar to how you’d tell a dog to sit and he does look puppylike in the way he does exactly what you say, staying sat and wondering what your about to do until you round him, lifting the dryer and then hesitating. 

“Can i dry your hair?” - You hover, not touching his hair at all for a moment but something in Jimin’s heart is warm, beating loud and in his ears. His chest is starting to rumble again and he really cannot wait until you get that hair dryer on to hopefully cover the sounds threatening to erupt from his chest. Something distant in his mind, heavily praising you and saying things like ‘sweet omega, taking care’ 

“Sure, sugar” - He dips his head for you to reach easier and you gently reach out, touching the strands and nearly purring from how soft they are, hes got his natural hair right now, they’d decided on it for the comeback, everyone natural although he is missing his blonde hair, he knows its a lot softer and healthier this way. Its just been cut, the sides shorter and a little prickly-soft you’ll find. The top’s in those curtains that perfectly frame his face, before styling its always a little bit in his eyes. 

After getting a feel for how soft it is, you cant resist dipping your hands in, gently detangling it with your fingers from his scalp to the ends, you have to clear your throat to cover up your purr. Jimin’s struggling too, hes putty in your hands, holding a pillow between his fingers to resist holding you a little closer because hes always loved having his hair played with, it tingles a little when you come across a few knots, mumbling an apology and oh so carefully untangling them one by one. He doesn’t mind the gentle tugging, hes leaning into your hands more and more by the second until hes practically crouched over himself. 

You keep going until you’re able to run your hands through it over and over, pushing it out of his face and back, over and over- a few times more than necessary. You catch a glimpse of Jimin’s face everytime you do it, hes got his eyes closed, gulping harshly every few seconds and otherwise, his lips barely part, breathing a little shaky and you take his flurry of scent fluffing around you as a reward, a token of approval.

Noises of approval fall from your lips, letting out a little purr by accident and watching as he twitches, looking up at you from under his hair and the look in your eyes has you spinning- metaphorically and physically as you turn your back to him searching for the hairdryer and simultaneously trying to even your breathing because WHO could possibly not stop breathing and blushing if jimin looked at you like THAT?!

The hairdryer acts as a good mask for your purrs and Jimin’s approving growls, even if maybe you can both hear them underneath. You keep running your fingers through his hair as you dry it, a medium sort of heat just in case rather than the high setting you always use on your own hair. You know how he likes his hair by now, making sure to run your fingers through it over and over in the front to swoop it out of his face and form the pretty bangs. Its so soothing that Jimin nearly falls straight into you, having to jolt himself up a few times because- why is he sleepy? Why is he quite literally about to doze off right them under your hands and the flittering heat of the hairdryer- 

You don’t mind when he jolts up, simply carrying on at a new angle each time until you turn the hairdryer off, Jimin’s hair a fluffy, soft sort of pillow on his head- you could definitely nest with something this soft- maybe you should just drag Jimin himself to the nest- Okay thats enough. 

Jimin slowly sits up when he realises your done and have ran your fingers through it just a few more times, it sits nicely out of his eyes, fluffed up just the right amount and he’s looking at your own hair before you can unplug the hairdryer and shaking off his happy haze to stop you. 

“My turn now sugar” - You turn around in confusion when he’s looking at you like your the softest thing in the world, angelic in his eyes and this is all so strange- you have barely known eachother over a month- what even is this?! You go to protest but he shushes you, gestures for you to take his spot and you do, getting a bit shy because you never have people do things like this for you and as he’s about to reach out and reciprocate, you reach for his wrist and stop him, words muddled on your tongue; maybe its just a try for you to brace yourself, maybe not

“It’s- it’s probably a lot more tangly than yours.” - Jimin looks at you pursing your lips and eyebrows furrowing, so clearly hesitating and he melts all over again. he retracts his hand and gives you a moment, voice so soft as if your a wounded animal

“Its okay; i dont have too if you’d rather i dont.” - And maybe thats all you needed to hear because it gives you the confidence to nod, dropping your head and Jimin pushes away the very small voice of his alpha singing your praises for dropping your head like that to him like omega’s do when showing their trust, saying you’re not doing it in that way

“I’d like you too” - Since your words are merely a murmur, Jimin doesn’t push you to talk any further. Gently separating your hair down the middle and into two sides, you ran some leave-in conditioner through it, but it might still be tangled. The first touch of Jimin’s fingers to your scalp almost makes you preen, resting your mouth on your hand, disguised as just slumping and comfortable, but it’s really to try and mask any reaction you have. 

Jimin purposefully is as gentle as possible, scratching over your scalp gently and repeating what you did for him, running his fingers through your hair until there's not a single knot; it's a lot longer, a lot lot longer than his, but that only makes him more careful. You are toe-to-toe; he can feel you wiggling them in happiness against his own, and it’s more than enough reassurance to carry on. You had already brushed it earlier, so it only takes a few passes to just get the few. 

Getting the hairdryer started and beginning has you in a very similar state to Jimin just a minute ago, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep; you haven’t had something like this since you were a child, always preaching your independence. That's why your purrs, louder than the hairdryer can be, are excused easily; you can hear Jimin giggling in joy and cooing over the softness of your hair, but it’s almost distant, barely feeling too conscious when he finishes. Minutes of drying had felt like a mere few moments, and you slowly blink back to reality. 

Jimin still keeps his finger detangling your hair after; it's only been 10 minutes start to finish from your hair to his, but it feels like it's been hours- friendly intimacy you tell yourself, right?

Busying yourself when he finishes is easier than confronting your currently hazy state, thanking him for doing it, and he recirprocates with a half-flirty comment about loving you playing with his hair that you know is only light-hearted. 

“You must be hungry- you’d be home by now” - Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. The worry shown by the little crease between your brows makes a similar expression settle on his own face. He wants to wipe it right off

Then, without him getting a chance to respond, you remember you’d obviously both gone to get food, and there are two plastic carrier bags on the kitchen island containing ramen and gimbap. It’s still pouring; he can’t possibly get back yet, and after you’d checked the weather, it was meant to calm down in around half an hour to forty five minutes, you had told him, and he’d nodded, not rushing to leave and you can hardly have him going hungry-—what kind of hospitality would that be? What kind of omega would you be?

“Would you like me to cook your ramen for you? I mean, I'm definitely not as good with cooking as baking, but I make a mean instant ramen” - You laugh out, trying to cover the fact that this feels awfully domestic and so intimate you could just melt. Jimin returns your laugh and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, with a brief comment of ‘I bet you can,’ not at all a flirty kind of response, but he just makes it one with his tone.

He nods, thanks you, and although he feels he should at least help and not make you do it all, you have somehow accumulated a habit of pushing his chest and stunning him momentarily, enough to push him to sit and let you do it.

You aren't lying; you do make a mean instant ramen. Soft boil a few eggs to go with it, just right so that they pop when cut in half but aren't too gooey. Plating it up in the cups just because, and in 10 minutes you’re back and smiling to yourself at how Jimin’s sunk into the couch, sleepily blinking, your omega clawing within you in self-praise, happy you’ve aided him to get to this kind of state. Warm, dry, comfortable, and about to have a full belly.

Jimin practically moans when he tastes his ramen, claiming you make it better than he ever has, both of you munching away on ramen and gimbap. You both chose spicy versions; it plumps Jimin’s lip an almost anime-like red plush, and he sniffles at one moment-—you freeze.

You take his sniffling as him already developing a cold even though your rational brain knows you're also sniffling and it's only from the ramen. You try to keep eating, but you seem cautious, something to say or do lingering in your movements, and when Jimin picks up on it, you don't know how, but he just knows.

“I don’t have a cold; it’s just spicy- here, try” - It does well to distract you along with calming you, but you do look at him like he’s just done something absolutely obscene when he holds out a bite of his ramen on his chopsticks for you, hand under to stop them from getting on your couch or you; he laughs at your expression, but you open your mouth and lean in either way, trying them. They are sweet, savory and- spicy, so spicy that your eyes pop out and you look at him in terror- He’s in a fit of giggles that are music to your ears, throwing his head back and you’d hardly taken notice of the gesture of him feeding you and you sharing chopsticks-

“How do you even eat that! That’s going to burn my tastebuds off! Try mine its nothing like that-” - You get out between taking deep breaths to try and cool your mouth and eating a bite of gimbap, gathering a good bite on your ramen, repeating the gesture and Jimin leans in instantly, humming in approval at the taste but still half-giggling at your reaction

“They’re good! You sound like Taehyung” - He gets out after swallowing, nearly finishing his ramen now, same with you.

“Well, Taehyung is right because that is spice from the burning pits of hell, and I like spice!” - You near shout at him, still shocked and appalled, just as you finish and he’s once again giggling. Jimin reaches out and wipes your lip, a little bit of the ramen sauce still on it, feeling over your lip and bringing it back and into his mouth as if it's nothing. You’re frozen; he’s nonchalant about it, carrying on and laughing at your expression, and then you shove another bite into your mouth, blaming your flaming cheeks on his ridiculously spicy choice. Did he really just do that? Wipe off sauce from your lip and then lick his finger off after?! He’d darted his tongue out to do it past his puffy red lips and then just acted like nothing!

He’s driving you a little crazy, and it forces your sweetened scent out in a flutter so strong Jimin nearly choked, the kind of scent that you’d talked to Dr.Kim about. Then you’re embarrassed and mortified at yourself and don’t say a single word about it, neither does Jimin, maybe taking a lot deeper inhales of your scent than he’ll admit, feeling ravenous despite having just eaten an entire meal. It’ll replay in both of your minds, a whole lot more than you are both willing to admit.

The weather app lied. It always does. That half an hour to forty-five minutes? Lies. An hour rolls around, and both of you are stuffed full of food, warm, comfortable, and positively about to doze off when you murmur out.

“It doesn’t look like it’s stopping.”

Jimin agrees; the idea of leaving is kind of painful. he hasnt been this comfortable in days but he knows he cant overstay his welcome; cant intrude when your eyes are droopy and he knows your nest is just a door away and that you're probably begging to get in and have some alone time - if only he knew your omega has been nagging at you to invite him in since he got here. That makes him pause because he hadn’t really clocked that oh- oh. Your nest is just in the other room, so close, and you’ve been okay with him staying here so far? In fact, with a quick glance, he realises the door isn't pushed shut to your room; there's a slight crack open, and he can briefly see piles and piles of blankets and pillows when he squints before relocating his sight as if he were burnt. 

He is not letting his alpha fall down that rabbit hole of thoughts- although it already began, still singing praises about you and your instinct, about how well you took care of him, about how amazing of an omega you would be to the pack- He shuts his brain off quick at that one. 

“I’ll call Yoongi and see if he can pick me up so I am out of your hair.” - It’s light-hearted how it comes out, but he has to clear his throat, and there’s this little tone of disappointment that makes you internally whine, or more specifically, your omega whines and begs for you to make him stay, but you know you can’t. Instead, you offer a little comment to try and soften that disappointment.

“You’re not a burden, Jimin, I mean it.” - Jimin’s eyes flick to you so fast you’re sure he should get some sort of pain from the motion; he deflates, a breath falling out that he didn’t know he was containing, but he isn’t deflating from being upset; much the opposite, what you say soothes him, wraps around him, and its words that he doesn’t often hear but always worries about. You don’t know it, but he really wants to scoop you up and hold you so tight you can barely breathe.

Your smile is genuine and telling, he returns it right back, still picking up his phone to call Yoongi but with far less haste. You give him a moment, going to the utility room and opening your dryer, gently folding Jimin’s clothes; they smell briefly of your laundry from the dryer sheet you put in, and you’re glad they don’t smell like rain at all. Now that they are dry, you can appreciate the fabrics he chooses, running your fingers over them, internally cooing and externally nodding from the softness. Your omega’s dancing around, saying something similar to praise about it being soft enough for his skin and thick enough to keep him warm, but you try to ignore it. 

So strange, your omega's been nagging and giving far more comments and pushes to your actions than ever; maybe it's just because you're at home. 

Jimin calls Yoongi in the other room, telling him he got stuck in the rain and needs to be picked up. Yoongi panics, asking where he is and how long hes been stuck, saying he needs to get to some sort of shelter, but Jimin cuts him off. Tells him he's okay, he's at yours, he's dry and safe, but he just doesn't want to stay too long when he knows you should rest. Yoongi is… shocked to say the least, jealous? Bamboozled? Filled with questions. He’ll hold off to ask though; he asks him to drop a pin on his location and says he will leave now.

He doesn’t go without leaving a comment about how he needs to thank you and keep well away from your nest, and- he goes on and on, but Jimin hangs up when he hears you leaving the utility room. 

You walk over, a timid sort of smile on your face, and you don’t even notice how you’re still lightly running your fingers over the fabrics over and over, but Jimin does. It fills him with a sort of sense of pride, of reassurance that he has surely picked out well, and his recent attention to his clothes and fabrics is appreciated by someone else. By an omega. By you.

“They smell good” - He claims, taking a big inhale of them, still warm too.

“Is this you trying to compliment your own scent?” - You tease, knowing fully well he means the scent of the dryer sheet sticking to them “I mean- are you saying it's worth complimenting?” - He pushes right back, tilting his head in curiosity, a smirk pulling at his lips

“Don't get all sassy now” - You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance, and he breaks into a big smile. Unfortunately for you, Jimin doesn’t mind being sassy. 

“Awwww you do, dont you, sugar?” - Teases and teases, standing up and over you, cooing and walking a little closer just to keep it up

“Mines better.” - You roll your eyes again; now your the one acting sassy. a small smirk as you think it’ll end there, with you winning

“I’ll agree there.” - Oh, now you're silent. Silenced. Okay Jimin won.

On cue, Yoongi sends Jimin a message saying he's outside. Jimin frowns a little, and you barely catch it before he's schooling his face into a small smile again. 

“Yoongi’s here” - You try to hide the disappointment on your own face; your omega is clawing and clawing at you. Make him stay; ask him for a few more minutes. You dont

“I’ll walk you down” - Jimin nods, going towards the door and then looking down, guilty and giving you a sheepish smile because he’s still in your clothes

“I’ll get one of the boys to return them to you if I don’t see you first” - He rubs the back of his neck and looks so sweetly awkward it’s amusing; you break into a full laugh at his confident and sassy exterior breaking. 

“Come on, don’t keep Yoongi waiting” - You get through your laughs, subconsciously reaching for Jimin’s hand and intertwining your fingers all over again, barely holding back a gasp after you realise what you’re doing, but the smile Jimin can’t contain is worth it, especially when he squeezes your hand so you can’t pull away, and you both begin your comfortable but short journey downstairs. 

You can see Yoongi’s car pulled right up to the door, looking out of his window after a moment and through the glass. He has a clear view because it's bright in the hall; it's pitch black outside. 

Jimin and you walk to the door together, hand in hand still, swinging them a little and not stopping your conversation until you come to a halt. Jimin purses his lips; it looks like he's contemplating something, and before you can pull away, he holds onto your hand a little tighter and pulls you flush against his chest. Arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and after a moment of shock, yours move up and around his neck. It's an intimate hug, a warm embrace filled with thousands of unspoken words, and you stay like that for a good 30 seconds. 

You’re certain Jimin can feel your chest vibrating with silent purrs; he’s so warm, so comforting. His breath is hitting the top of your head where he leans down a little and rests his chin onto your hair. You’ve never had a hug so perfect, he’s certain, arms tight, yours are the same, and your bodies are flush against eachother. Your breathing is a little shaky, and so is Jimin’s, his scent so heavy and thick around you that you’re sure your knees are trembling a little and everything feels a little slow; you’re melting. Thinking he can only feel the vibrations of your purrs is wrong because he can hear them; this close he can hear them, and he's reciprocating his own kind back to you. 

He doesn’t let go to speak to you, not one bit.

“Thank you…” - His voice is so soft it feels like he's singing it to you, hanging heavy and breathy over you. You somehow know he’s not just talking about your basic hospitality, that maybe this situation spoke to him like it spoke to you, although you can’t decipher what exactly that means. 

You don’t need to say anything in return; he doesn’t expect you to. You slowly let go of each other, one final shaky breath between you two before he walks and opens the door, glad that the small cover over the entrance is enough to shelter him to get into Yoongi’s car. Standing there, you watch until they slowly pull away, sharing a heavy glance with Yoongi.

Inside the car, they begin silent; Jimin’s in some kind of bliss, melting back into the seat, head tilted back a little and eyes closed.

“Tell me.” - Yoongi says, and underneath the calm exterior he tries to push, there's a sort of excitement, a jealousy, a curiosity that would have his leg bouncing had he not been driving. You’re doing something to all of them, fast, and you probably don’t even see it.

Ahhhhhh i hope you all enjoyed todays chapter. I mean, i loved it but im biased cos i wrote it...

Thank you so much for reading as always!

My asks are open of course!

Lmk if youd like to be added to the taglist x

Mwah 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Taglist: @annasixx22 @canarystwin @borahaetelevision @stay-tiny-things @chasinghxran @bangtan4lifetypeshit @bubblyyz @steddie-steddie @7milkbread7 @welcometomyworld13 @chroniclesofbts @sidnaazsworld @roryy95 @danielle143 @angel121 @imeverycliche @m00njinnie @kiki-zb @meowforluv @jiminsfavpillow @dachshunddame @corgilover20 @minjianhyung @loopychick @lizzy23-02

[meowforluv]

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter Three ‘The Price of Doing What You Love’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warning - mentions of exhuastion, stress, tension, small injury mentions (accidental burns, muscle strains), lmk if theres any more to add!

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

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Author Notes - I’m sorry for how long this took! Issues with saving on my laptop meant I lost the entire second half of this chapter and had no time to rewrite, it’s finally here though and chapter 4 is already in the making!

It can begin to pick up from here, finally met the first milestones I’d say. Yes they are all drawn to eachother but I don’t intend for them instantly to just realise and jump right in so this is maybe a slow burn, although I’ll be incorporating a lot of brief mentioned scenes like the scene with Hoseok asking about Y/n’s friends and a lot of spaces in the timeline (short ones) like the beginning where I show they progressed over a few weeks.

This just makes their relationship more realistic and it’s not going to be an instant change, I’d like to build a lot more on their individual characters too!

Aside from all the problems getting this chapter out, I’m happy with it (I think) please excuse any spelling or punctuation errors 😭

The following few weeks are busy but... Progressive. Your cafe continues to be as busy as ever but you have the special addition of three new customers. Namjoon tries to come in most days, he quickly learnt you work behind the scenes some days and he began to think his whole trying to come in every day was a little forward or pushy - even if you didnt see it that way - internally he knew he wasnt visiting just for the coffee and bakes so he came when he could, naturally rather than making it a part of his schedule. If he felt particularly peckish or really needed a break, hed come to get a coffee, but - only - on the days where you were working Upfront not that hed verbally admit that.

Hed argue that you just made his coffee better but the truth is that he visits for you - even if the coffee and food is amazing. Somehow you just brighten his day, make it a little easier with your expressive care and sweet gestures. The girls had began to tease you, finding a pattern when they were working of Namjoon coming in and then standing frozen like a lost puppy when one of them was behind the counter rather than you - of course he never asked for you - but Soojin did witness him making a small comment about you being back the following day when he returned and so they prodded, teased, pryed but you simply brushed them off. He just enjoys your coffee, right?

Its not like Namjoon ever made a bad impression on one of the others, he was as polite as ever, the only time they ever saw even a little bit of disappointment on his face that stuck was the day he couldnt see any of his new favourite pretzels behind the display and had even asked if there was any and he was just passing over them. Much to his dismay, you hadnt prepared any that day but when you found out, it felt like the end of the world, your heart pounded a little and you made sure there was his favourite pretzels every single day. Even if they werent on display, sometimes Namjoon would come in and whilst hed ordering his coffee, one of the girls will slide over a plate from behind the counter, labelled in your handwriting 'Reserved!' and they'd explain youd set it aside for him. 

His brain chemistry felt like it changed when you did that, he froze, his heart began to beat faster, something swelling within him - pride? Joy? pure and utter admiration? An intense desire to give you the world for your incredibly sweet gesture? 

Confronting- or rather- gently questioning you about it on his next visit rewarded him with the sight of your cheeks flushing red, a light stutter taking over your usually confident speech and a rather hasty explanation that only brought a wide smile onto his face and a blush of his own, sincerely thanking you and praising you for it only to watch you practically skip away when youd finished talking. This was also the day you exchanged names, your name then passed on to your other two new customers. 

These two are less- lets put it straight- adamant. Although they can feel the pull to be around you, they decide to be a lot more subtle than Namjoon, really only visiting when they are craving a - good - coffee/drink of any kind or a sweet pastry. Honestly, your relationship with them progresses at the same rate.

Hoseok finds himself ordering your banoffee pie every visit along with a medium roast americano or- if hes visiting in the early morning you prepare him a fresh fruit juice alongside his coffee, claiming he should have something properly hydrating before his day. Ultimately, its because along with learning eachothers names, youd also worked out a kind of dynamic where youd slowly learn more and more about them and their lives, sometimes theyd tell you what theyd done or are going to do that day, sometimes theyd tell you a story about one of the other members, you love it all, are interested in it all. You happily listen and give input to their every sentence, laughing sometimes, symapthising and borderline lecturing at others. On this journey, you'd discovered that the alpha that originally would appear smiley but felt slightly intimidating and definitely confident, was a dancer, an amazing one at that and he often spent most days doing atleast some form of dance so yiu began to stress the importance of him beginning his day hydrated. 

He'd watched in surprise the first day you did it, eyebrows raised and lips parted befre tilting his head in curiosity at your actions. Then he found a little fun in it, the way you breathed in a little more before speaking thinking it would help you get your words out but ultimately finding it didnt since his scent invaded your body and slowed your mind a little, that was... amusing. 

Especially intriguing when Hoseok leant forward, resting his head on his hand, in the way you do getting slightly closer to show your listening, only making your eyes widen more and brain falter a little, practically shaking yourself out of your daze to explain. Hoseok wasnt cruel though- he dropped it and got back to his gentle smile when youd finished talking and thanked and praised you for your thoughtfulness but maybe that was just as bad because you went even redder, teetering on the spot and fiddling with your fingers because good lord it felt amazing to hear it from him.

You'd scurried off, if thats the right way to put it, afterwards, his intimidating - and too attractive for anyones good - aura just making it hard to focus for the rest of the day, your mind a little scrambled even when Yoongi came in for his iced americano - having briefly heard about your interaction that morning - and acted all nonchalant and lazy about it until suddenly blurting out that you should sit down, your a little shakey, take a little break before you begin again and then went on about his merry day but it had only driven you further into your madness. What were they doing to you?!

Safe to say you crashed especially hard into your nest that night and - maybe - slept a little better than usual, their words playing in your mind on repeat, transforming into blissful dreams that you scold yourself for in the morning. Seeing Namjoon first thing that morning - when you were just making sure everything was in check before retreating back into the kitchen - had seemed to settle your body, putting you back into calm, focused routine, his clumsy but cute mannerisms and intrigue in your every small word feeling natural, so natural that you slowly left your frenzy during the day and were ready to face either of the two offending alphas that following day if they chose to come in. 

They might occasionally be driving you a little crazy but your doing it back to them tenfold. Truthfully, you dont leave their minds, they stay longer than they plan to everytime they visit your cafe, just watching, observing, admiring you. Even if you arent there, sometimes theyll stay just to catch a trail of your sweet, doughy scent, it just sets their day off right you know? Or makes a not so great day into one slightly more bearable.

Sometimes they’d come in and you already knew something was wrong before they’d even walked up to the counter or sat down but before you got there, you’d decipher wether to ask them about it, or to pretend it didn’t happen, and god they appreciate that. You just know, and it’s strange how fast that had all happened and become routine.

Sometimes you’d listen whilst making their coffees, sometimes when it’s less a lot less busy you’ll sit down with them for a short while and you don’t even have to answer, just listening makes it better, the way they can tell your actually listening and in return, not that you expect anything in return, there’s been days where they’ve absolutely done the same, looked at you in pure worry, ushering you to sit down and just say it all

Your unapologetically yourself, scolding them for their habits on some days and on others merely being a light in a gloomy sky for them, like when Hoseok’s running his hand through his hair repeatedly you know he’s stressed and don’t say a single thing about him ordering a double espresso at 5pm

Or when Namjoon clumsily lets a tiny hint of his strong, assertive scent out when his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s deep in thoughts, although it often makes you stumble a little you try not to show it, and if you can’t hide it you make a little joke, something that will make him apologise a little - even if you didn’t want any apology - but equally smile and lighten up even a little

Yoongi tends to just be a bit more silent, more than usual, a slight tension in his face and on those days, you make your way over and just silently accompany him if your given the chance, if not you just linger a little, top up his coffee without him asking, send him a short, telling smile and that’s more than enough for him. If he wants to talk about it, he knows you’ll listen, if not, you’ll silently be there.

Even when they are alone they find themselves smiling like idiots, thinking back about your conversations together, even the shortest ones, the way you scold them without a care anymore if their unhealthy habits show a bit too much, trying to guide them back onto a healthier path. Your every word replays in their heads, your every move, practically documenting your reactions to certain things like praise, their actions, their tone and their scents and you become a fascination theyve never felt before. The sweetest treat they could imagine, even without you trying to be. 

Safe to say they do a poor job of hiding it too, jealously lingers from the remaining 4 members of the pack when the three rappers just show up a little less stressed, a little more energetic for practice, a tad happier than the others. Curiosity follows the jealousy and they pry, the three just brushing it off a little, not for the sake of hiding it, more so trying to deny the fact that you are having sucha big impact on them. 

Everyone's been acting a big strange recently though. Jungkooks soft things frenzy was shortly brushed off, only to be followed by Jimin suddenly becoming very, very concerned with his clothes. Not how they look- nothing like that, specifically, how they feel. Hed put on a shirt only to cringe and practically banish it if it wasnt soft enough, if it didnt feel right, as right as he could explain. There soon was a pile accumulated of clothes he didnt deem soft and gentle enough, even if his skin was never bothered by it, his mind was, it just wasnt soft enough and thats all there is too it. Right?

They arent the only ones feeling and acting strange, alongside your clearly conflicting and growing feelings towards the three pretty alphas that youd grown to like so much, your instincts seemed to multiply. Their scents? Overwhelming, in the best way, more and more everyday, you just wanted to bottle it up and found yourself searching for any reminents of it on your clothes when you got home even if youd made no contact with them. Then your nest, which has always been your pride and joy, began to feel a little small, its big enough for you but somethings telling you it simply isnt big enough and when youd confided on your six amazing friends over your weekly dinner, theyd shared knowing glances with eachother and gently encouraged you to follow what felt right. 

So there you are, gathering even more blankets, duvets and pillows, pushing and pulling to expand your nest a bit but there is something missing and you just cant put your finger on it, something thats making it even harder to sleep properly than usual. It has you huffing through your monday, sighing every second you get alone even if you of course put on a smile for the customers. Something;s missing, but what? 

--------------------------------------------------------------

"We are done! Everything's ready'" - Exclaims of happiness and relief start to flood through the practice room as their choreographer declares everyones learnt the dances and theyd only need refreshers from here on out, so for a little bit, they can take it easier than usual. No recording, no learning, no producing, just refreshing their memories every now and then.

That calls for a well earned celebration, the group plans to go out for dinner and some drinks later that night but in the mean time, everyones hungry, thirsty and exhausted, whats a better time to visit your cafe than now?

The seven are spread out across the practice room, some sitting, some laying down, some downing their water but they sit in a mutual silence, the comfortable kind. A little bit of a break - as far as breaks go for them - ready to begin. Yoongi's the one who suggests it, finally letting on to where the three rappers suddenly disappear to every now and then and the singers only grew curious, heavily intrigued and oh so eager to go.

"Lets go get some coffee" - Its a sudden statement, everyone looking up from their various positions in the room, thinking- right now? when we are all sweaty? More coffee when we dont need it Now and we''ve consumed more than our bodies should be able to handle in the last 2 months?!

"Where hyung?" - Taehyung enquires because clearly its not in this building, Yoongi announced it to make it a sort of trip/ small occasion for them, a group thing - which they hadnt truly had in a very long time. 

The idea is appealing, something that brings them nostalgia since they hardly spend time properly together anymore. Its hard too, not just because of schedules but because of the conflict that has accumulated so easily as a result of their off-balanced hormones. 

Their concerns about being all sweaty and not exactly the best example of presentable are brushed away as a little light seems to gleem in Yoongi's eyes when they agree. They take a slow walk, relaxed and appreciating the fresh air they are getting after being in the practice room for hours. 

"Is it the cafe all of the other groups keep mentioning?" - Jimin enquires, always mingling here and there around the building 

"Yeah that one with the fresh bakery display" - Taehyung also adds, humming in interest and delight

"Yeah, the coffee's really good" - Namjoon gives away the fact that he already knows where they are going and that this is the reason theyve been acting the way they have recently

"So the coffee is what has gotten you three all giddy recently?" - Jin pushes, eyebrows raised from curioisty 

" theres clearly something else to it unless the coffee is made with actual magic" 

"Well, you can be the judge of that yourself cant you?"

"Don't hide it hyung, whats the real reason"

"You'll see wont you'"

"Oh- i see her now" - Jungkook blurts out when he sees the three rappers brighten up the moment you come into view and turn to them, only noticing those three at first.

They all watch as your nose twitches and your steps falter, taking in a breath and immedietly being overwhelmed by the combination of their scents and the pure strength of them, laced wit something that screams 'alpha' even more than usual - their sweat. It only strengthens their initial scents and adds this layer that cant be described, its alluring, something you naturally react to a little and when you get a little closer to greet them they can see your pupils blowing out and breath catching in your throat, having to gulp before speaking. 

"Your back! Together this time and- oh!" - You gush happily over the rappers at first and then the pure strength of the scents set in and nearly knock you over when you notice the addition of four new faces. These men are all too attractive for their own good- you gulp at the amount of eyes on you and slightly stutter in your next words, suddenly feeling like you could nest right here, next to the 7 and just surround them and yourself in hundreds of soft things over and over- Or maybe you should Tilt your head to the side and bare your neck or- or- what are you even thinking?! You shake yourself out of it visibly, resetting your smile 

"How lovely to meet you all finally! Ive heard so much!" - You gush brightly

"Aish Y/n your revealing our gossiping tendencies" - Hoseok laughs out, teasing and finding it amusing when you falter for a second before catching on

"Dont be silly its hardly gossip just- information" - You throw right back, your tone playful and the vocal line instantly liked how you matched Hoseoks energy so easily.

"Well now i understand why they keep coming back" - Without even thinking, it slips from Taehyungs lips, his deep voice caushing you to shudder and your lips part, his intense, admittedly intimidating, stare only making your brain stop, not quite knowing how to respond when it was so clear he was talking about you.

"Oh- well-" - Your mind hardly co-operates, pupils blown out and cheeks tinted red, looking anywhere but into Taehyungs eyes as they follow you, intense, overwhelming. Sometimes, those kinds of comments would make you nervously laugh and subtely back away but coming from him, there wasnt any underlying negativity, no prying intentions beneath and instead you almost wanted to shuffle closer but you couldnt, nervous and clumsy from it all.

"Taehyung dont fluster the sweet girl" - Jin scolds, nudging him with his shoulder as he observed you struggling to reply but that didnt exactly help calm you, infact it just made your eyes widen even more, beginning to find an out to try and hide the cheesy grin that was forcing itself onto your lips but it was too late and they wanted to coo, the rappers wanting to tease and prod for your reaction but refraining for now. 

"Ah- ill just- go to the counter" - You practically run behind the counter to hide your grin and escape the hot air that suddenly enveloped you around them, breathing in the fresh bake scent deeply to try and clear your mind of the haze the 7 alphas scents had started to settle over you. 

Namjoon, always attentive and honestly very sensitive to whats going on around him, takes the opportunity to unnecessarily apologise for the addition in their scents/their appearances

"Ah im sorry for us coming here like this" - He Clumsily gestures to himself, rubbing the back of his neck and you understand what he means, looking up at him from behind the counter but you instantly wave him off

"Dont be silly, theres nothing to apologIse for, infact-" - You catch your own words in horror with yourself because why were you just about to blurt out that you liked their scents like this too, your about to slap your hand over your mouth but quickly try to divert from ayone catching on by asking the typical question, even if a few did catch and guess what you were going to say by the few sneaky giggles from amongst the 7.

"What can i get you all?'' - You take their orders one by one, explaining to each of them what the sweets behind the glass display were when their eyes caught onto them, drinks first and then treats.

"A mint tea for me please and- amazing thank you" - Namjoon's practically beaming when you gently shift his reserved pretzel you routinely make sure is available towards the front in question before he can even get the words out, the newer members look over his shoulder in wonder at what has their leader pretty much like a lovesick puppy with his expression and the breathy tone of his voice.

J-hope has a similar interaction, ordering his usual but having grown more confident around you recently, he threw in a wink and positively had your cheeks roasting, quickly diverting your eyes and moving on to Yoongi

"Iced Americano and- whats that dessert?" - He never usually orders anything to eat but your pleasently surprised when he points to the Raspberry Swirl Cheesecake

"Raspberry Swirl Cheesecake, its not too sweet, slightly tart from the raspberry mix in but its balanced by the cream of the cheesecake- i think youd like it, would go nicely with your drink too" - Its clear your passionate abou your bakes in the way your well versed in getting the perfect balance in each treat and when you finish off your sentance with a proud nod. The addition of 'too' as you finished completely changed the meaning of your evaluation some of the members noticed, had you not said it, your conclusion could be completely generic based on his drink choice, with it, the drink choice was merely an addition to your initial conclusion tnat Yoongi himself would like it- a minor detail, but one that leaked your increasing interest even if you hadnt noticed it as much yourself. Yoongi happily agrees to try it and yo move on to the 4 new faces, some strange nerves or tingles in your body, the ones you got meeting the other three but more intense this time, probably from there being more of them. 

"Ill have a vanilla latte and a slice of that strawberry cake there- its cute" - Jin points to the pristinely decorated strawberry and cream cake, fluffy sweet sponge, ripe strawberries and sugary fresh whipped cream. His overall choice makes you smile because its equally contradicting and perfectly fitting to your first impressions of him- hes intimidatingly handsome, as if sculpted by a god but theres a gentleness and elegance to him naturally

"Sweet tooth?" - You brightly smile, tilting your head in question at him and he could agree but theres something else about Jin, 

"Just like sweet things" - He can be a flirt, and he does it well, the wink he gives you is suggestive as if you are another sweet thing to him but the smile he gives is calming, unthreatening to show his comment is merely playful, without ill intent. Doesn't fail to make your eyes widen and have you stuttering onto the next person though

Somewhere under Jimin's words to you, Taehyung quietly protests to Jin's flirting since he got scolded for it but Jin begs to differ, pushing that Taehyung was blatantly forward and intimidating'

"Ill Have aN iced americano too and oh- a slice of that chocolate cake please" - Jimin's sweet voice practically serenades you, along with how he brushes his hair out of his face, sweet, welcoming but devestatingly beautiful. His smile is just as drawing, a full grin with his eyes closing when he catches you stare a moment too long and you really scold yourself in your head because of all things to do you dont want to make any of them uncomfortable.

"A mint tea with hm... One of those croissants please" - Taehyungs voice is shcokingly deep, but its not a cold kind of deep, infact its rather warm, the rasp seductive but effortless and its suiting to his looks. You smile happily at his choice of a tea rather than the coffee you so despise your regulars ordering so often, ahem, the three rappers. 

"Uh an iced americano and what are these cakes?" - Despite his bold appearance - the tattoos peaking from his slevve you notice when he points and the piercings adorning his face and ears - Jungkook appears the most timid, shifting on his feet, only briefly meets your eyes and seeming to try and focus anywhere but on you, its strage, curious. 

"Coffee, blueberry, lemon drizzle and banana walnut" - For some reason you speak gentler, barely noticeable but Jungkook isn't as bold as the others have been so far, until you see his eyes light up At the last flavour voice perking along with the volume he speaks at

"Ill have a slice of banana walnut cake too then" - You nd and take a final look over incase they want to make any changes, they dont

"Will you be sitting in or taking to go today?"

"We will sit in today" - You nod and insist they get comfortable while you prepare their drinks and food, but then as they look around you realise there isnt a singular space set up for 7 people at once, youd have to move a chair or two and rushed over to where you found them on some couches in a corner of the cafe, cramped and right next to them there was two larger chairs which, added to their space, would accommodate them all comfortably

"Ah! One second ill just bring these two chairs over" - You gesture to the two next to their seating area but you are stopped by multiple protests when you go to push one of them, two people coming behind you to take over

"Dont- we Can do that if your okay with us moving them" - Namjoon quickly calls out, closer than you expected, you could almost feel his body heat behind you and although you wanted to protest and insist you could do it yourself, both the men- Namjoon and Jungkook were faster and had picked up the heavy chairs with ease-

How they managed to do it like its nothing astounds you, in a split moment they were both looking at you in waiting for your instruction of exactly where youd like the chairs placed, lifting the furniture that you would have struggled and broken a sweat to even push. 

Ugh, alphas. 

Well if they are going to have insane strength then might as well put it to use. After your momentary jaw dropping, you quickly instruct them to put them where you wanted them and it definitely wouldnt seem like you were only moving them to accommodate the seven of them- more looked like you were just having them help redecorate a small part of the cafe with the way they keep looking back to see if you want it just slightly forward, or maybe to the left a little. You arent that picky. 

"Aish now sit, you should of let me do it" - You scold, gesturing for them to sit now with a playful scowl, not that you were really complaining that they made it easier but they are customers after all- it just feels like you should be the one to do it obviously. And you dont want to dwell on just how effortlessly they lifted the chairs, pushing away that thought to usher the two alphas to sit and then rushing away shaking your head and setting off to do their orders. 

Theres a more lyrical type of music playing today, heavy on the instrumental but equally balanced by the singing and backing vocals, its slightly upbeat but gentle enough to be just right. Your familiar with the tune, a favourite on your own playlist and you find yourself gently humming as you subconciously put together all of the orders, body fueled with energy. 

Meanwhile, in a particular corner of the cafe, theres a group finally allowing their body to stop falsifying energy, sinking into their seats and embracing the need to just be tired and lazy sometimes. They dont speak, they dont have too, Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok are comfortable just dwelling on nothing, sometimes glancing at you behind the counter and other than that, accepting the comfort of soft chairs and background noise. 

The vocal line on the other hand, taking in every little detail around them, the comfortability the three rappers have, slowly creeping into their bodies.

Jin likes the intimacy of the cafe, perfect for an introvert like him, the kind of environment you can seamlessly blend in should you want too and not draw attention to yourself, a luxury for them nowadays.

Jimin’s feeling over all of the pillows and blankets scattered around, after his recent frenzy of texture obsession, its safe to say he approves, each and every one of the fabrics - you - picked out to decorate is just soft enough, hes less frantic, humming curiously.

Taehyung is infatuated with the designs and aesthetics youve chosen, visuals satisfying and intriguing, he isnt as studious of art as Namjoon is but the vintage feel to some of the furnitures deeply intrigues and inspires him. He feels like this is hwt he wants from his own home, decorated just like this.

Jungkook’s taking comedically deep breaths of the air, in his apartment there is a ridiculous amount of diffusors, air filters or all kinds just sattered around- not in any kind of organised fashion just to keep the air clearer. Here? Barely any in sight, yet the air is even fresher, its so refreshing he looks like a puppy trailing a scent.

You come over with the drinks first, too much to do both drinks and treats in a singular round, walking to the table in the middle of all of the sofas and chairs and placing each drink down according to where each of the seven were and what they ordered. Mumbling the order as you place them down but as you move around the table and therefore move around in the middle of the seven, its like your putting some sort of spell on them, your hardly doing anything out of the ordinary, merely serving their drinks but to them, for some reason its like your dancing, twirling around the table for them.

“Honey for the teas, sweetened cream for the coffees, hm… sugar cubes there…” - You watch intently over the drinks you placed down, Yoongi having had taken his from your hands rather than it being placed on the table, checking you have brought out all of the extras, water filled jug just in case too, nothing seems to be missing so far.

“Ah! Spoons.” - You shoot upright, your outburst surprising the men and you bashfully smile, saying youll be one moment, their eyes follow as one moment you spinning around placing their drinks down and the next your off again. Somethings telling them to just reach out and slow you down, tell you that you’ll fall if you keep going around like that, that youll get dizzy moving so quickly but its not their place to do that. 

A few moments later your back again, your hairs slightly fallen and pulled from the bun its in, a few strands over your face, probably from how fast you move, in your hand is another tray, the cakes they wanted, and a few small spoons for the additives on the table. You wear a different apron today, its black, like usual, but has a very mild pink hint to all of the stitching, just below your ear is a small patch, the same on both sides, a scent blocker, the effects of such last 24 hours usually, non harmful as they are non-invasive but they work to prevent your scent from being so evident. The boys wear them at award shows and- most places actually. What confuses them is how your scent seems to be just as strong as others are when they havent got a scent blocker on, if not stronger. 

“I forgot the spoons” - You say with a little laugh, it must be hard, they think. To adapt your body beyond what its originally capable of handling - your schedule is what they mean. You wake early, go home late, probably ignore how much sleep your body requires as an omega because there arent enough hours in the day for you to keep up with it. 

No one would guess that it is the case, with how energetic you appear all the time but from where Jin is sitting, he can see the back of your neck, below the wispy hairs theres small patches of red skin, a rash. He guesses what its from, overexertion as an omega will have your body protesting and showing visible symptoms, rashes being a possibility. They arent harmful, they are simply meant to be a warning, although they can be slightly painful. 

From Taehyung’s seat, your hands are right in his view, little scars are on various areas of them and spread over to your arms, healed burns- not the kind that seem continuous or large of any sorts. They are very small, not extreme, healed over and some clearly very old as they are barely visible, from baking. A slip of your hand on a hot tray for a singular second and such, its a regular occurrence, nothing alarming of course, still makes Taehyung frown though.

Yoongi has been noticing for a while the strain on your body as well, when you lean down, sometimes your lips pull as if in slight pain and at times, your movements are delayed, looking unnatural as you your body physically tries to stop you from moving in such ways, stopping for a split second before continuing. Its happened to all of them before, a sign of continuous strain and muscle aches, hes thrown small comments about it your way multiple times now, never going as far to physically stop you from moving in such ways that strain you because its simply not in his right even if he has to push away his instincts to do so. 

“Take it easy” “Go sit down for a few minutes at least.”

“Shouldn’t strain yourself like that.” You always wave him off; it’s nothing, you’ll say; you just slept on it funny, you’ll say. He’s since noticed how no matter what, you’ll deny any evidence of your body protesting what you put it through, and he understands, because he does the same. That doesn’t mean that he simply can accept it though, he puts it down to the natural dynamic, but that’s not all there is to it. 

He's grown a habit of preventing you from making unnecessary movement when it comes to him; no matter how much you protest, he doesnt let you get a chance to bend down to place his coffee down, always taking it from your hands before you get a chance. It's one interaction in your busy and long day, and he knows it wont make all the difference, but it's one second less of strain, and that's a tiny difference enough to ease his mind, and the flurry of your scent in appreciation is telling too; every time he does it, that's enough of a thank you to nearly have him dozing off in his favourite chair in the cafe. 

All your spinning has sort of created a whirlpool of your scent around them by the time you’ve handed out the cakes, a dizzying scent sending their muscles into relaxation mode, slumping in their chairs and that alone causes your smile to widen, standing before them after, clapping your hands together and double checking everything is out.

“Right! That should be it all, can i get you anything else?” - Your answered with polite denial and appreciation for what you have done, countless smiles and a couple sleepy sort of blinks.

You always think it, they work too hard, push too far, while they may yearn for the results and love their lifestyle at most times, their exhaustion is clear, you can practically feel the knots in their muscles with the way they move and sit, some of them still have veins prominent in their necks from the practice earlier, their body not yet calmed down although their scents have settled, still tainted with the remnants of sweat and standing there honestly makes you a little dizzy, mind a little soft but you put it down to the quick movements rather than their scents. Denial is a river in egypt. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

“So she owns this cafe?” - Taehyung questions, getting nods from the three rappers, everyones talking between sweet bites of their chosen cakes

“Works and bakes here everyday?” - A frown pulls at Jimin’s lips, concerned for a stranger, his caring nature evident

“It must be tiring, i dont want to make assumptions based on this but- wouldnt it be harder for her too? Since shes an omega.” - All of them perk up at Taehyung’s question because yeah, it biologically would be harder for you, the vocal lines eyes fell on the rappers for answer 

“Yeah, it is, you can see it sometimes, how it takes a toll but im pretty sure she loves what she does” - Hoseok gets humms in reply, not blind to the signs of your exhaustion either. 

“I like her scent” - 6 heads whip towards Jungkook at his words, teasing smiles and laughs because he has been breathing abnormally deeper than usual since you’ve been here to put their food and drinks down. Hes picky, its a known fact, incredibly sensitive to smells and he can hardly stand most peoples, can hardly stand his own unless he takes incredible care of his routine. 

“Wowww, whats got you all appealed, huh Kookie?”

“An omega catching your interest the first time you meet her- thats new” - Namjoon is hardly surprised, truthfully. Jungkook has had his fair share of short-term relationships and a good amount of one or two night-stands. Amongst it all, hes never taken any interest in omegas, tending to be too headstrong or their scents making him sneeze in close proximity or just internally he hasnt taken a liking to them. This is different, most of them are immune to omega-charm, not that youve ever tried to put that on them anyway, you just act as your nature wants you too but theyve taken an incredible liking to you so far. 

Like is the wrong word. Jungkook could take heaps more of your scent, breathing so deep you’d think hes running out of air, his pupils slightly dilated. It’s unusual to him, unfamiliar and he doesnt quite know what to do about it but for now, he just enjoys whats around him. 

“You cant deny that you three have taken a liking to her too” - Jin comes to Jungkook’s rescue and lets him dwell in his own thoughts about the matter without all the attention. In return, the rappers all get a little embarrassed and defensive.

“Well-” “Yeah maybe but-”

“You can see why, cant you?-”

“Shes not- in a pack?” - Taehyung suddenly speaks up and steals all of their attentions, he says it quietly so no one overhears their conversation but all of them slightly breath in more to evaluate what hes said.

“I dont think so, ive never smelt anyone but her” - Yoongi says, knowing its a question hes had himself. Omegas are partial to scenting, genetically drawn to it when in packs. It’s something they naturally crave but you have never had another’s scent on you, nor any of your friends had yours on them. Alongside that, even if you are clearly close with your friends, they arent your pack, he knows that for a fact from a conversation Hoseok had with you

“Enough about me, is there anything you’re doing tonight?” - Hoseok had ended his usual talk about his day as you were sat across from him, a late friday evening.

“Ah, im going out for dinner with my friends” - You gestured towards Soyeon, currently working as she’d seem you get a little jittery and told you to take a minute to sit down, conveniently just as Hoseok came in. He’d hummed, then answering.

“Your pack?” - You’d shook your head as a no, not said anything further on the matter , kept your smile on and there wasn’t a hint of withdrawal at his question or sadness in your answer so he assumed you didn’t have a pack. Which is true. 

“Thats, uncommon…” - The seven arent ones to judge, it is true what Jin says though, it certainly is uncommon.

“Pushing herself the way she does and without a pack for support? Surely thats unhealthy” - Jin continues, knowing that the omegas in his family surely wouldn’t be able to do this, he admires you, but also worries, glancing over at you and when he looks back

“I think her friends are great support, they arent a pack though” - Namjoon adds, pursing his lips and sighing out, he doesnt believe you have any romantic relationship currently either from how you find yourself mildly reacting to their occasional - light - flirting. He’d catch you with flushed cheeks for tens of minutes after, a small smile stuck on your lips even as you try to  suppress it. 

They end the conversation there, each in their own thoughts, maybe stepping over a few boundaries internally because it just simply didnt sit right, there were small pouts and frowns all around. The possible repercussions of not having a pack in tie with what your body endures everyday makes them cringe. They’d be whining like puppies if they were to take that form, eyes wide and sad but they dont speak on it, because they are currently in no position too.

Its best to just thoroughly enjoy their time there, maybe sneak a few glances at you and overly praise and thank you as they leave, even more so when you get so flushed its comical, from your neck to your ears, red all over. Its safe to say everyone will be back, very soon at that. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many nights you find yourself trailing down the streets away from your apartment, following the same memorised path to the convenience store. There are many reasons, one being that it at least forces you to stay awake that little bit extra rather than crashing the moment you arrive back home and gives you something to subconsciously focus on and aim towards to give you that little bit more time in the day. Another is that after a long day, of course you don't have the energy to be cooking yourself a good meal. You might scold your regulars for their unhealthy habits occasionally, but no one's perfect; everyone has their weaknesses.

Yours just happens to be a particular love for instant ramen and gimbap—quick, delicious, and easy. So what if it's probably not the best to be eating it nearly every day, and you've been scolded multiple times by your friends? Some things are a necessity, or atleast feel like it. 

That's how you are now: wired headphones playing your more upbeat playlist to give you some false sense of energy and suppressing your yawns while you drag your feet, hoodie pulled over your body alongside the fluffy pyjama bottoms you're wearing to aid your warmth, a scarf to top it off, and your hair in a messy high ponytail. It's a short walk after all, and you are a regular-—showing up in your comfy clothes is hardly abnormal now.

The bell chimes as you enter, easily navigating towards your favourite aisles but never giving up a chance to mooch around the snacks and absolutely pick up a few; your headphones suppress the few people also around the store—never many here or at this time of night. 

“Taehyung likes these ones- i swear all of these are too spicy for him.” - Jimin is lightly giggling and picking up one of the instant noodle bowls for the man hes definitely teasing

“Aish, how does he even live?” - Browsing the options besides Jimin is Jungkook, immediately going for the spicier options and struggling to pick just one.

“I’ll never understand it, and without coffee too!” - Jimin has always been passionate about expanding Taehyung’s palette to the things they enjoy too, such as coffee, and trying to help him build a tolerance to spice, but honestly, he’s long since given up and accepted his quirks, just as Taehyung has done for him. 

Jungkook's nose twitches and eyebrows furrow, and he swings his head to the side at the sweet, desserty scent floods his nose again for the second time today, the invisible scent trail hes following leading to you, making your way down the aisle slowly, browsing just as they are.

“Jimin is that?-” 

“Ah the pretty cafe owner!” - Gushing already, Jimin averts his attention from the ramen to you, bundled up in your comfy clothes, white fluffy trousers with light pink hearts catching his attention and the effortless pull of your hair in the hair tie- cute. Almost domestic-

You dont hear their little conversation or internal dilemma about you being here but you do smell it after a moment or rather, just as Jungkook noticed yours, you pick up on their scents, unique and distinguishable from those youve smelt before. It has your head turning in their direction and being surprised to find them already looking at you, startled at being caught and breaking out into awkward smiles and gentle waves. 

Easily reciprocating their wave, you dont quite know whether to just go back to your browsing for a lovely savoury dinner or to engage with them but Jimin easily answers that when his lips move in your direction, instantly taking your headphones out to listen. 

“Ah Y/n! What are you doing here?” - Simple, light, friendly conversation. Easy on your tired state even if their presence alone is equally lulling you to sleep and waking you up; that's not so simple, far from it, infact.

“I'm just grabbing a quick meal; I don't live far. What about you guys?” - You try to hide the tiredness in your voice, avoid seeming like you dont want to speak to them because thats far from the truth your body just struggles to keep up with the schedules you put it through. They catch on to your exhaustion quickly, noting how you subtly rub your cheeks on your scarf in a self-soothing sort of way, nesting when you can't truly nest. Eyes drooping and hands trembling—just one of those regular symptoms of your body's protest against your schedules. 

“Us too; i cant pick what to get though.” - Jimin Gesturing to the vast selection rather dramatically draws an amused giggle out of you and before you go back to your own selection, you point towards a small selection of ramens from the same brand

“These go great with a gimbap, especially the spicy ones” - Both the men light up at your suggestion, looking over the different flavours and picking some for themselves. That solves both of their issues with picking a brand. 

Its initially just a short interaction, you three go and find your separate foods and you are at the counter paying when they cant help but overhear the lady ringing you up, prodding and scolding in a motherly way to you.

“Look your trembling! Aish ive told you to be careful of overworking yourself, its not good for your body and especially not with these meals!” - The woman, Mrs. Han, who youve grown a nice friendship with since you have moved here, holds your hands so gently youd think they were glass, but to her, you are. She always voices her concerns, never afraid to scold you. 

The two boys overhear and frown as they assume this is regular because the older lady is correct, it cant be good for your body. Unfortunately, at that moment there is very little they can really do since they only just met you today.

That doesnt stop their instincts from nagging though, especially Jungkooks, hes younger, truthfully has no experience with omegas closely unlike his hyungs, even if theirs is limited too. 

“It was nice to see you Y/n, your recommendations are gonna be great!” - Jimin exclaims brightly as you all stand outside the convenience store, ready to part ways.

“Ah it was nice to see you too, i hope you enjoy the choice aha- Get home safe!” - Just as you give them a final smile and are about to turn to beeline home and burrow into your nest ,fight sleep until you've eaten, you're unexpectedly interrupted. 

“Can we walk you home-” - Jungkooks biting and pulling at his lip as he blurts it out, the words seeming to surprise even him, hes avoiding your eyes and you can see how hes fighting his own instinct, its curious. Maybe its out of courtesy, that he doesnt really want to so you train your usual smile onto your lips to reply.

“Oh! Thats alright its not far dont worry-” - Your enthusiastic to help him understand it really is okay for you to go home alone- you do it most days anyway. What surprises you is the furrow of Jungkook’s brows, cheeks pulled in as if hes biting back the words but a singular one escapes and has you pausing.

“Please…” - He doesnt really know why he does it, he just cant not do it, he has to ask, has to try.

“Jungkook-” - Jimin scolds, quietly as if to reel him back in, shocked at his behaviour, its out of the ordinary. 

“But- Mmfg- im sorry for being so persistent” - Jungkook tries to carry on but a sharp kick to his foot from Jimin’s cuts him off, shakes him a bit more to the present and he apologises but he doesnt need too, not to you, he hasnt done any harm.

“Its really okay Jungkook” - You smile both confidently and gently, nodding towards him to show its really not a problem, hes not even looking at you, just sort of struggling internally but you can see it, so clearly. Soemthings clawing at your own mind, begging, telling you to accept his request, but you fight it with your own feelings that it would burden them. 

“We can, of course walk you Y/n but please dont feel pressured to accept-” - Jimin’s eyebrows are downturned as he speaks, feeling bad about the interaction and Jungkook jumps in as if hes come to his senses too.

“Yeah! Im sure you really dont need us to walk you but-” - Nodding furiously as he speaks, Jungkook tries to save the situation because he realises so clearly you could of even taken offence to his offer- an alpha being persistent about walking an omega home can come off so many different ways: possessive, insisting, dangerous, degrading or even threatening. His mind is spiralling when you cut it all off, look directly at him as if you understand, as if you can see beneath his eyes and directly into his brain, at the turmoil thats so unfamiliar to him. 

“Would it make you feel a little better to walk me?” - What possesses you to ask and accept is beyond you- maybe it's your way of giving in to your instinct too.

The way Jungkook avoids your eyes as to not lie to your face is telling enough, and you're quick to understand; it's instinctual. He isn't being possessive or forceful of any kind, but he's concerned, and that's okay; you don't mind easing that. 

“Okay, come on, its not too far but i dont want you guys to get back too late; you work hard” - You spin around and usher them to follow your lead, both of them staring at you in shock, Jimin’s mouth agape and standing there a second too long whilst Jungkook actually perks up, quickly catching up to your side because he was the one to insist after all.

“Do you go there often?” - Another round of light conversation, something to cut the silence and maybe distract from the conversation that led up to this walk. Youd been walking for a solid minute now and for some reason, as someone random had walked past youd noticed them tensing a little, you figured it was because they didnt want to be recognised and felt bad about it but then you were swarmed with their scents, booming from them and it had you realising they werent tensing out of being uncomfortable- they were squaring up. Flooding out your own scent with theirs to mask it, subconsciously saying ‘not yours’ to the stranger even if they didnt even look your way 

“The convenience store? Most nights” - You firmly nod, surprise evident in both of the boy’s faces- since your job entails you cooking- rather, baking, so often, it makes sense that they are surpised, refocusing on you and their scents mellowing again.

“For dinner?” - Jungkook questions, brows raised

“Mhm, what about you guys?” - Throwing it right back to keep the conversation going, noting how the two boys seem to be walking slower than they naturally would on purpose to meet your own pace and picking it up a little bit despite your tiredness. 

“Ah yeah, we go probably more often than we should” - Jimin awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and laughs a little. Jungkook on the other hand, cant get the fact that you get this dinner over cooking out of his head when its what you must enjoy for it to be your job

“Do you primarily bake Y/n?” - Jungkook’s staring at you a little intense, you subconsciously grow a little awkward under his gaze and laugh as you answer.

“Yeah, its not that i cant cook; i can but its tiring after work and well- ironic, i know but i dont like the cleanup of anything savory” - Its an odd preference, liking cooking less just for that simple detail, but its just something you accept for yourself

“Wahh- That makes sense, but don't you mind cleaning up after baking?” - Jimin asks but their joint curiosity is amusing, both looking at you in wonder, wide eyes and transfixed on your words, “Not at all” - Shaking your head with a soft smile, slightly shivering and tightening your scarf around yourself as a gust of wind washes over you three, subconsciously, Jimin and Jungkook stand a little closer on either side of you, their warmth invading your own and suddenly you want to purr- your nest seeming more inviting than ever except, theres visions of their hoodies in your nest and you have to shake yourself out of it, clearing your throat and its as if it doesnt just shake you out of it, shakes them too, noting how close they are standing and taking small steps to the side giving you a little more space- that isnt what you were intending for though.

“I think most of us are the opposite, not for cleanup preference but we can cook, cant really bake” - Your replying to Jimin’s words in your head before you even know it- ‘Well that fits just perfect, i can bake’ But what is making you think this way- its abnormal, ridiculous. Instead, you reply out loud with something more suitable.

“Well everyone has their specialities; cooking is an amazing skill to have”

“Lucky you to have both” - Jimin’s playfully adding in, a hint flirtatious but you look at him in shock and laugh, 

“Arent you both blessed with like a multitude of talents alongside cooking? Singing, dancing—should i keep going?” - raising your eyebrows in question and looking at them both only to be amused as they grow a bit shy and avoid your eyes, a kind of warmth on their cheeks and ears that definitely isnt from the cold air, moreso from the praise you give, its different from the compliments they get truthfully on the daily but why?-

“Well maybe but im sure you also have a multitude of talents- tell us” - Pushing back is all Jimin can do to  pretend he didnt just react like a middle school boy when their crush looks at them. 

“Im a professional waffler” - You say matter of factly, noticing your building coming into view and maybe- just maybe, slowing down a tiny bit to prolong the walk for even a few more seconds. 

“Huh?-”

“I Swear thats not even a real thing-”

“Well, i guess youll have to find out another time wont you both” - Their confusion is amusing and puts a far more vibrant smile on your face, giggling for a moment until it fades out when your feet stop. 

Looking around the alphas notice theyve come to a stop infront of a building, glass doors only accessible by a passcode leading to a corridor and some lifts, your apartment building and a feeling of disappointment sets within, it had hardly felt like 2 minutes of walking whilst they are sure its been 10. 

“This is me, thank you both for walking me” - You dont know why your holding your breath- as if it will give you a few more seconds together 

“Ah its no problem at all- infact, thank you for letting us walk you” - Jungkooks sheepishly smiling, this time looking at you with big boba eyes that surely couldnt belong to an alpha- 

“Take care of yourselves; less convenience store food!” - Pointing a finger at them accusingly and giving them one final smile before turning to put in the passcode, hearing Jimin’s voice over your shoulder 

“The same goes for you, sugar” - You stop dead in your tracks, not used to your nagging being reciprocated nor for the nickname, it feels like warm caramel is melting in your body, slow, sweet and trickling over all of your senses. The burst of your scent around the three of you gives it away and your scurrying into your building and up to your nest faster than you can comprehend, the bag of food you dropped on the counter on the way in, distant in your mind compared to the beating of your heart in your ears-—what is this? It was just a nickname, right?

Its safe to say the two alphas went home with lighter minds and big smiles, searching up what a ‘waffler’ was only to be slightly amused. Along with that, the nickname sticks. 

—---------------------------------------------------------—

“What was all that about, huh?” - Jimin asks once theyve gotten far away enough from your building, confronting Jungkooks abnormal behaviour

“Hm?-”

“Pushing to walk her home Kook-”

“I didnt mean too, i swear.” - The guilt that sits on Jungkook’s face proves his words, has Jimin softening and patting his back as they walk

“I know, but why?”

“I dont know; it just didnt sit right to let her walk home alone and i know shes perfectly capable of caring for herself, but-” - Jungkook rushes it out, the words defensive but his confusion with himself is so clear in the uncertainty behind his tone

“I get it; I understand, Kookie, and it made me feel reassured to walk her home too but, a little less pushy next time, hm?” - Admitting Jimin’s own instinctual feelings made Jungkook settle a little, his shoulders falling despite not realising they had been so high to begin with. Neither of them tries to deny the reassurance behind the image of you safe and warm in your apartment- in your nest. 

“Yeah…’ll apologise when i next see her.” 

Thank you so much for Reading! I really hope your enjoying it so far, like it said in the notes, things start to pick up from here, I’m really enjoying their dynamic and the ideas I have for this story, they are definitely spiralling way further than I have properly planned yet hahah

Let me know what you think! As always, my asks are open! Characters asks, author asks, all of it!

Just lmk if you’d like to be added to the Taglist x

Mwah 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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[meowforluv]

GROIN - RM (2024)

[meowforluv]

motherhood and matrimony

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, smut, masturbation, enemies (annoyances) to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, marriage of convenience, slow burn, fluff, little angst, mentions of death (satoru's father).

a/n. tysm for another follower milestone! as a thank you, here are some ceo! satoru headcanons for my ongoing fic motherhood and matrimony. this can kinda be considered as a teaser for those that haven't read the series. for those that have read the fic, this fleshes out the circumstances between satoru and reader a bit more, giving us a bit of insight from satoru's POV (and showing how down bad he is, hehe.)

ceo! satoru, who walks into meetings ten minutes late, just to prove he can. he never rushes—the clock bends for him, so does the room. postures straighten, laptops shift, conversations hush—eyes flicking away like they weren’t just whispering about the latest tabloid headline with his name in bold.

he doesn’t give them the satisfaction of reacting—never does. because he’s used to the attention. the scrutiny. the weight of being watched.

whatever… he never asked for this. he’s the heir of gojo corp, he just has to exist… right?

ceo! satoru, who doesn't read half the reports placed in front of him—rolling his eyes during company briefings, doodling dicks into the margins of billion-yen contracts. he slouches in a chair that cost more than most people’s rent—twirling a pen, daring someone to scold him. it’s always his father. it’s only ever his father.

“take this seriously satoru. you need to grow up. have you found a wife yet?”

the pressure of his legacy comes dressed in politeness, in tightly-wound ties and family dinners that feel more like interviews. it’s never ‘what do you want?’ only ‘what will you become?’

people think he’s lazy. arrogant. detached. 

eh… maybe they aren’t wrong? 

and yet, for all his mockery, he still shows up. still puts on the suit. still plays the part with a half-smile and his middle finger tucked just behind his back. because maybe, if he doesn’t take it seriously, it can’t hurt him the way it was always meant to.

ceo! satoru, who keeps people at arm's length, especially women. they whisper his name like a prize—because everyone wants something from him: money, attention, his title, a seat at the table. so? he gives them nothing—flirting without intent, touching without feeling, fucking without consequence. 

love is a transaction. intimacy? a liability. and gojo satoru? he’s tired of being collateral.

so, he stays perfect on paper—sharp in the spotlight, hollow behind closed doors. if he gives them nothing, then there’s nothing to take. 

untouchable, unbothered, and lonelier than he’ll ever admit.

ceo! satoru, who notices you the moment you don’t notice him. you’re new—his father’s latest hire. just another name slipped into a calendar invite he didn’t read, another title he forgot before the ink dried. nothing remarkable. not at first glance. you keep to yourself, all neutral tones and clean lines. head down, posture straight, buried in your work like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered. 

boring, uptight. 

that’s his original impression of you. 

until he makes some offhand comment in a meeting—low, careless, designed to make the room laugh. but this time, you glance up, meeting his eyes with a scowl.

“...are you finished?” you mumble. cold. quiet. unamused.

the fuck? 

it’s always his father. it’s only ever his father. and yet here you are—desk-bound and barely blinking—making him feel like he’s overstayed his welcome—in his own kingdom, mind you.

oh. he’s gonna give you hell.

ceo! satoru, who makes it his personal mission to get under your skin. so, he starts dropping by your office more often. for no real reason—papers he could’ve emailed, questions he already knows the answers to. 

“hey miss secretary,” he drawls, dragging the words like velvet across glass. “miss me?”

he pushes. you push back. he reroutes your calendar and you reroute his meetings. he leaves three unsigned forms on your desk just to watch you chase him down the hallway with your heels clicking like gunfire.

“try doing your job sometime,” you hiss. 

satoru lives for the moments you slip. he’s used to women shrinking beneath his name. you don’t shrink—you scowl. and it’s addicting. because all that politeness you wear in front of his father is paper-thin around him, and your patience is stretched tight over something sharper. 

ceo! satoru, who notices you’ve been late three times this week. not by much—seven minutes, ten at most. but still, late. unusual for someone like you.

you—who normally arrives fifteen minutes early. you—who color-codes schedules and double-checks logistics like it’s second nature. you—who never lets a single thread unravel.

“this company runs on discipline, not excuses,” his father lectures you. “apologies sir… my babysitter has a habit of running late.”

and just like that, the room changes. 

ceo! satoru, who said nothing at the time—just watched. you’re a single mom? he’s thinking about the way you never mentioned a child. the way you never once asked for accommodations. the way you kept your head down and your performance sharp, even when your personal life clearly wasn’t giving you much room to breathe. and for the first time, he wonders if he’s been looking at you all wrong.

because it’s easy to call someone uptight until you realize they’re holding the world together with both hands and no help.

you square your shoulders, taking his father’s lecture like you were used to it. why did it seem like you had practice with swallowing apologies you didn’t owe? that doesn’t sit well with him…

ceo! satoru, who didn’t see it coming. not really. one moment his father is mid-sentence, gesturing over untouched steak and quarterly projections. the next, there’s a tremor in his voice—a hand that doesn’t settle, a breath that doesn’t finish. silver clattering to the floor. staff rushing in. panic rising in the air like heat.

he doesn’t remember the walk to the ambulance, only the stillness of his own father’s body.

ceo! satoru, who knows the answer before the doctor speaks. it’s in the look. the way the nurse steps back. the way no one can meet his gaze.

“it was a heart attack… i’m sorry. he didn’t make it.”

he nods. once. what is he supposed to do—to feel? he doesn’t know what to mourn. the father he feared? the man he resented? the stranger who lived down the hall of his own childhood? the man who spent his entire life, trying to mold him—now undone by something even he couldn’t control. 

there was no grand ending. no dramatic farewell. just silence. 

and satoru—left with all the noise that came after.

ceo! satoru, who stares down at the stipulation in his father’s will like it’s a ghost. and honestly? maybe it is. maybe this is how his father haunts him—not with memories, but with demands.

to inherit full control of gojo corp and the family estate, satoru must be married. with a child. within one year.

he blinks once, then laughs—quiet, disbelieving. of course. of course the man who never trusted him in life wouldn’t trust him in death. control, even from the grave—his father’s final move, final manipulation.

ceo! satoru, who isn’t prepared when it’s you who offers a solution. no dramatics, no buildup—just a simple, “let’s get married.” it takes him a full breath to process it. a fake marriage. a clean deal. a contract that helps you both. 

you—already a mother, already the picture-perfect illusion his father wanted him to build. you—who has everything the will demands, and nothing he’s ever had to pretend to want. for a moment, he’s stunned into silence. because you’re not offering him love, you’re offering him freedom.

ceo! satoru, who doesn’t trust easily, but maybe he trusts you? because you’ve never wanted anything from him, never asked for his attention. you’re practical. smart. tired in the same way he is (he’s just better at hiding it).

and sure, maybe what you’re offering isn’t customary. no emotional attachments, no strings. just terms, signatures and survival. it’s not what his father would have wanted. but fuck it, that’s the point.

ceo! satoru, who is not prepared for the way you kiss him at a public event. he tells himself it was just the heat of the moment, knowing you only kissed him to play your role. he tries to conveniently ignore the way your lips part first, slipping your tongue in, sighing against his mouth, leaning into him like you’re his—like he fucking owns you.

but… this is just a charade, marriage of convenience—nothing more. shit. then why the fuck is he rock hard remembering the taste of you?

ceo! satoru, who only meant to jerk off to you once—just to get it out of his system, okay?! clearly that’s all he needs right? he lasts maybe five minutes before he’s groaning your name, hips lifting as he’s spilling cum all over his abs, shuddering as he fucks his own fist thinking about you. 

there. that’s it. out of his system—no more, right? (wrong)

ceo! satoru, who doesn’t know what’s worse—the fact that it happens again, or that it happens easier. it doesn’t take much now—just the sight of you leaning over the dining table in a robe, a bare leg bent, hair tangled from sleep. the curve of your neck when you tilt your head. the flash of skin when you reach for something too high.

what the fuck is wrong with him?!

you’re not even doing anything. not really. you’re just there—folded into his space like you belong there. moving barefoot through his estate in oversized sweaters and quiet hums, curling up on the couch without a clue what you’re doing to him.

ceo! satoru, who’s never felt this out of control. not in boardrooms. not in interviews. not even in the middle of his father’s most ruthless lectures. but with you? with you, it’s all unraveling—you’re like gravity.

and now it’s routine—fucking his hand to the thought of you, slipping into his bedroom, pants pushed down, fist tight around his twitching cock, muttering curses into his palm to keep from moaning too loud, because you’re always asleep in the room next door.

it’s just stress relief, he tells himself. a coping mechanism. a release.

taking care of a kid is harder than he expected. the pressure’s always building as ceo of gojo corp. and you—you’re always close. always soft. always there.

ceo! satoru, who imagines you on your knees, in his office, tucked under his desk like a dirty secret. he’s slapping his dick gently against your cheek, rubbing his precum all over your pretty little mouth, encouraging you to part your lips before feeding you his cock, inch by inch.

schlick. schlick. schlick.

his filthy faps echo off the bedroom walls—sprawled out on expensive sheets, cock flushed and leaking down his knuckles as his wrist works faster, panting, groaning, lost in the addicting image of you.

“s-shit—fuck—” he breathes, head tilting back, hips rocking forward. “j-just like that… so good f’me, baby… so fuckin’ good—”

your muffled moans would sound so cute, gagging around his cock, drool dripping down your chin as you blink up at him, teary and beautiful. he’d stroke your hair back, whispering praise, thrusting lazily down your throat.

“fuuuck—look at you, so pretty—s-shit…” he’s fraying at the edges, nearly breaking as his strokes grow faster, messier. “p-please—fuck, need it—need your mouth, please… just wanna—nngh…”

ceo! satoru, who fantasizes about cuming across your tongue—your eyes fluttering closed as he tells you to swallow. and you’d swallow it all, wouldn’t you? looking up at him with ruined lips, cum streaking your chin, smiling all coy with those pouty lips he dreams about every night.

“fuckfuckfuck—” his voice cracks, stomach tensing, cock jerking in his hand. “‘m gonna cum— ‘m gonna—fuck—" he gasps, hips lifting off the edge of the bed as his orgasm crashes through him like a tidal wave.

and it wrecks him.

cum spills over his fist in hot, desperate spurts, leaking between his fingers, dripping down his wrist, painting his abs, his shirt, his thighs in thick creamy streaks.

“g-god… yes… f-fuck, baby… f’you, all f’you…” he whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as your name slips from his lips, over and over again like a prayer.

ceo! satoru, who lies there afterward, sweating and spent, staring at the ceiling like it might tell him what the fuck he’s doing. you’re not actually his—you were never meant to be.  sure, you’re his wife, but only on paper, nothing more. so… why do the lines keep blurring? thinning. you’re already under his skin. already in his sheets. in his head. on your fucking knees every time he closes his eyes.

and it’s not just lust anymore.

it’s the sound of your voice when you’re half-asleep. the way you talk to your daughter in that soft, maternal tone, tugging at something deep in his chest. the gojo estate used to feel like a museum. all cold marble and high ceilings, every corner echoing with the absence of something warm. he never realized how empty it felt until you started filling it. slowly. quietly. without trying.

now there’s a pink toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. a collection of tiny socks and hair ties on the entryway table. a soft giggle in the morning light and the scent of syrup in the kitchen air.

your daughter’s toys spill out across the living room rug. your coat hangs next to his in the foyer. your voice carries down the hall like it belongs here.

he wants you like a home he never thought he deserved.

and... that’s the most terrifying part of all.

love is a transaction. intimacy? a liability. if he gives you everything—his time, his trust, the bruised, aching thing in his chest he swore no one could touch—what would you do? would you break him?

a/n. awww... for those that have read the fic it was fun to go back to the start of this story to see how far this pair has come 🥹 i figured ceo deserved his own headcanon, i love my pookie. chapter 10 is in the works. if you enjoyed this teaser consider checking out this fics full masterlist here! i will also be reopening this taglist.

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[meowforluv]

Indulgence (Bts x Chubby reader)

-------------------

Chapter 2

Poly Bts x Chubby Reader, Soulmate au and Idol au

Summary: Poor broke and isolated mc gets the chance to go to a concert with an old high school friend, with hoping to find their soulmate and see the biggest boy band in the world. A new shocking reality hits her while at the concert.

Chapter Warnings: degrading thoughts, poor writing and grammar, gender confused reader, anxiety, mc being a loner, mentions of weight insecurities, swearing, fat phobia, etc (let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: second chapter omg I actually wrote it in a decent time span, I want to say thank you for the support for the first chapter! I will try my best to keep up with posting chapters, etc, etc, As we all know, Grammarly is my lord and savior, but even they can't fix my awful spelling mistakes, so let me know if anything is wrong or just ignore it for the sake of the story.

word count: 2,034

(Thank you Corinnecousins on Pinterest for this picture)

Perviously on Indulgence:

"Then for the first time in my life, I felt a tug, anxiety filled my stomach as I froze in my tracks, and my heartbeat went through the roof as I looked down at the red thread I usually forget about, it loosened. Holy shit I am near my soulmate. Holy shit. Lauren notices that I stop walking and now staring at my pinky finger asks me “Are you okay?” I initially looked around the bus station, there were a lot of people walking around, too many to see where the string goes. “Is it your soulmate?” Lauren asks me again. I couldn't speak, my mouth dry as I gave her a shaky nod. But unfortunately just as it loosens it quickly tightens again, meaning my soulmate either left or is on a bus going further away from me. “I wonder if he felt it” I questioned out loud, looking at Lauren with shaken eyes. She sighs, almost equally disappointed “Come on Clare is waiting for us, we don’t want to keep her waiting.” Lauren tells me, grabbing my hand and basically dragging me to the exit. I can’t stop staring at my red thread, there's hope. There is always hope. Now I at least can find comfort that he is in the States, and not in Korea or Russia or anything far away. "

We make it to Clare’s car, she smiles at me as this is our first time meeting. I put on a smile as I tried to push through all the emotions I was feeling at the moment. But it is more complicated than I’d like to admit. The man I moved halfway across the country for is now somewhere in the city that’s only 3 hours away from my 4-year hellscape of a college.

 I let out a deep sigh as I looked over to Lauren and Clare, who were having a quiet conversation themselves. Clare nodded at something Lauren said, a look of concern and slight confusion filled her eyes, and spread across her face. “I’m fine yall— let’s get going before I hear another kid scream their head off,” I tell them with a slight chuckle, hoping that I’m schooling my face well enough to at least look like I’m fine as well as my typical dry humar distractes them from the imdending breakdown I am bout to face in tminus 10 seconds. 

Lauren eyes me up and down while also looking deep into my very soul to see if I’m lying to her. Clare shrugs, “I agree.” Lauren seems to give up her soul searching and nods her head. In silence that was not completely awkward, we got into Clare’s small car. I shove my bag and myself into the back seat, hoping that the fabric of the cheap seats swallows me whole.

 After 30 minutes of awful pop music from the local radio station, – Clare saying something about “keeping up with the latest music” – Clare’s occasional road rage and cars honking, we reach a small street lined with small shops and other downtown “hippie” and “local” boutiques. As God was on our side we found a decent parking spot with little to no casualties, though I was pretending not to feel the curb that Clare drove on top of.

 As the other two girls make their way to one of the many shops we will visit, I try to find it in my very core to move and get out of this stupid, beat-up car, but my every soul has died and been replaced with a mopey version of myself. I keep asking myself, “Would I ever have that chance again? To be that close to him?” The feeling of hopelessness seems to seep into my bones and takes over into my soul as I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of despair. A gust of wind hits my arm, making me shoot up in shock I yell at Clare as she laughs at me hanging off the open car door. “Come on, man, Lauren is dying to check out this new shop.” I rolled my eyes and finally found the courage to step out of the car; the car isn’t stupid, just my feelings.

 I breathe in the cold air as I match my footing with Clare, following her mindlessly as we catch up with Lauren, who is currently star-struck over this shirt. “Guys, what! Look at it!” Lauren practically screams at us, I laugh at her as I feel myself letting go of its tight grip on the soul-crushing reality. Maybe spending some money and indulging in giving the greedy company my mind, body, and soul is what I need at the moment.

 The rest of the afternoon is spent with Lauren dragging Clare and me around the street, jumping and hopping from one store to another. I found a few tops that were cute and appropriate for the concert but as for pants my fear was proving to be true as none of the shops had my size, or like any normal sizing I mean come on even the chubby girls like to overconsume, and spend all their money on a pair of jeans. 

“Isn't this so cute!” Lauren yells into my ear as I lazily glance over the rack of tops. I throw on a smile as I examine the clothes “Oh yeah, it fits you.” She smiles back at me before her eyes start analyzing the shirt once again. “I’m going to ask Clare what she thinks,” before I can respond Lauren already walked away from me. I sighed but smiled nonetheless, as I went back to looking at the mildly ugly and small tops in front of me, 

“You shouldn’t be here,” a small but pitchy voice says to me. I turn my attention to the owner of the offending voice, only to see a short girl who looks like she would be blown away by a strong gust of wind. I swear to all that is holy, if this goes in the direction I think it is, I’m gonna hole myself up in my room for the next decade. “Excuse me?” I ask the lady, confusion dances across my face as I tilt my head down at her to get a better look, black jeans, black top, and oh- look! A name tag, great, she works here. 

“I’m saying,” her pitchy voice raises a notch as she scoffs at me. “You don’t belong here, none of these sizes will fit you.” She gives me a once-over before crossing her arms and staring up at my face. Yup this went exactly how I was expecting it to. Look, I’m not a Karen or anything of the sort, so the following things I say don’t represent me at all. My eyebrow raised in amusement at her sheer audacity, but two can play this stupid game. 

“Oh, really now? I’m sure your manager or other coworkers would love to hear that you're being rude to a customer just based on their weight.” I give her a fake pout. Her eyes widen at my words, “I’m sure this establishment prides itself on being fat-phobic to their customers, so maybe you will finally get some recognition. Oh! And this interaction will make you get that pay raise you have been hoping for!” I fake excitement in my voice, but I am channeling all the sarcasm I have collected over the 19 years of my life. 

 She starts to stutter as her eyes are wide as dinner plates, her hands come out in front of her, trying to fix her comment she made about me as she fails over and over to come up with something to smooth over her mistake.  Another employee walks up to us, “Is everything okay over here?” The employee is an older woman and much more secure with herself. I smile at her, “Actually, no, this employee over here was telling me to leave this establishment because of my weight, and I feel very disrespected,” the said offending short girl’s body regrets itself as she turns to the older woman, trying to explain and justify herself. Again, I am not a Karen of any sort, but I am not going to let myself be disrespected by this Barbie regret just because she is insecure and projecting it onto strangers. 

The older woman smiles at me, ignoring her. “I’m very sorry she said that towards you, honey, by no means do her words represent the company and what we stand for. Rest assured, this behavior will be dealt with.” I gave the older employee a polite smile, thanking her as she took the younger girl to the back of the store. Once they left, I let out a deep sigh. Look, just because I handled that well doesn’t mean I wasn’t blowing up on the inside.

I scan my eyes around the store, spotting my two friends over the accessories. Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I make my way over there, I just need to turn off my brain and have fun. I can’t let comments like that get to me. For the next hour, we went to two different stores. I managed to find some pants that make up a complete outfit for the concert. I felt more giddy, as maybe the world isn’t so bad when you have a new outfit to wear and show off. Us three stopped at this small cafe for a late lunch and a breather.

 Lauren took the liberty to fill me in on the latest gossip and drama going on in her arts school, as Clare and I just ate peacefully. “Oh hey, what happened back at the bus station?” Clare asks me once Lauren’s gossip train slowed down, I cursed internally, as I was hoping not to think about that again. I shake my head, “It was my soulmate, the string was so tight like he was right there next to me. I was freaked out by it” I explained to her my body shrinking on itself as I reminisced on the feeling of being so close to him. Clare gave me a look of sympathy as she shared some comforting words with me.

 “Holy shit-“ Lauren’s voice breaks through my self loathing as the said girl is starting at her phone like it personally offend her, me and Clare exchanged confused looks “What’s wrong?” I ask Lauren carefully, but as soon as I speak, she shoves her phone into my face. I had to squint my eyes to adjust to the screen as I read the headline on a news article

 ‘BTS THE BIGGEST BOY BAND HAS A 8TH SOULMATE?’ 

“holy shit?!” I shout out as well as I take Lauren’s phone to read through the article quickly to make sure it wasn’t some clickbait but as I read more of it, statements from Bighit and Namjoon himself explain the situation. I passed over the phone to Clare as I stared in disbelief. Their soul group isn't complete? Does this mean that ‘SoulTies” is wrong, or did they just not know? But these guys are on a world tour right now. How are they just now discovering they have an 8th soulmate? 

“Wait, guys, did you read this part?” Clare questions us as she scans her eyes over the phone, “According to the leader of BTS, Kim Namjoon, also known as RM, Him and one other member felt a tug and their red string tightened when at the bus station in the city, where they are performing this Saturday.” Clare finishes reading the segment of the new article. 

I think my brain stopped working at that moment. A million thoughts raced into my head all at once, and the main one is “Could I be their soulmate?” but theres no way, there's no way I am the person. Besides, it's nearly impossible as well since we probably were at the bus station at two different times. There was no way two members of BTS where at the bus station and didn't cause a huge commotion. “Do you guys think we were at the station at the same time as them?” Lauren asks us, there is a childlike amusement in her voice, but Clare, thank god, shuts down that thought immediately. “There's no way, we would have seen a bunch of armies going apeshit as well as a million security guards and paparazzi.” I hum in agreement as I finish up eating.

“Well, maybe we should head to your guy's places since it's getting late.” I changed the topic to hopefully not down Laurens' hopes to much. The other two girls agreed as we packed up and paid for our food. We walk down the once busy streets, now its just a few stray people going home like us. When we came into view of Clare's beat-up car, I sighed in relief. Today was fun, a lot of it if I dont think about how much money I just spent, but there is still this nagging feeling in my chest that something is wrong, and that my soulmate is closer to me than I think, and with the article? I dont know what to think at all, I just want to enjoy the concert and leave this stupid city. 

.

I watch as our soulmate gets into the back of her friend's car, and my chest aches as I see the small pout on their face. Soon, you will be with us. 

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previous

[meowforluv]

Indulgence (Bts x Chubby reader)

-------------------

Poly Bts x Chubby Reader, Soulmate au and Idol au

Summary: Poor broke and isolated mc gets the chance to go to a concert with an old high school friend, with hoping to find their soulmate and see the biggest boy band in the world. A new shocking reality hits her while at the concert.

Chapter Warnings: degrading thoughts, poor writing and grammar, gender confused reader, anxiety, mc being a loner, mentions of weight insecurities, swearing, etc (let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: Hey yall I am not dead just being a wage slave at my job and working 24/7-- I wrote this a bit ago and posted a snip it of this a while ago as well but my friend begged me to post an actual chapter of this--- if this goes well I might post more. As usual, Grammarly is my lord and savior so there are going to be some mistakes even they can't catch.

word count: 2,644 (damn)

(Thank you Corinnecousins on Pinterest for this picture)

The red string is an invisible string with only the users being able to see it. On the other end of the string, it is supposed to be your soulmate. Someone that is your other half, someone that the universe itself said was perfect for you. At the age of 18, you get to see the string in completeness, it's like officially becoming an adult. Some people do find their soulmates before the ripe age but most don't find their other half till well into their twenties. 

There is this website that the government set up, it is called ‘The SoulTies.’ This website is run by a mysterious group that knows when soulmates complete their bond and on this website, you can see who is paired with who. The website came about mainly for celebrities because a lot of casualties happened when crazed fans pushed too much to find their favs soulmates. This was the compromise, and surprisingly it worked. No one knows how these people know, it is almost like the gray sisters and the string of fate except they don't cut the string, and the string is red and involves love. Something the Greeks thought of as a tragedy and not a serendipity. I think the website is funny, not in a mean way. Moreso seeing well-known people get paired with nobodies. It’s nice knowing that the ones who acted full of themselves get humbled by their fate. I haven’t met my soulmate yet, 

I am almost 19 and a month into my freshman year of college with no friends, barely a social life, and no soulmate. Though I wasn't expecting to find him on day one of moving into college, it is still disheartening when you see others with their lovers or soulmates and your red string is so tight it can cut a block of cheese. See the further you are away from your soulmate the tighter the string, when you guys get closer to each other the string will loosen. I was hoping that moving to a different state would give me a fresh start in this whole life mess, but it just made me more depressed than I have ever been. 

I let out a long sigh as my thoughts consumed me, I adjusted the bag on my back and skipped through a few songs. The nice weather and lack of students around made the hell walk to my class more bearable. Recently I have been getting back into listening to BTS, the music makes me less stressed about life, and I get to reminisce about how happy they make me. When I was a tween and didn’t know about the struggles of financial debt and stupid people. I put on one of their albums as I made my way to my philosophy class. BTS as I recently found out are all soulmates with each other, they decided to let the world know a few years ago but I guess I was living underneath a rock when the news broke out. It makes sense in my opinion, all being soul-tied, and it's not like group soul bonds don't exist, they are uncommon, sure but not rare. A part of me, the delusional side of me, secretly hoped it would be one of them. That I was fated to be with Taehyung or maybe Jungkook. I know a lot of their more toxic fans were upset by this announcement as I went into a rabbit hole on the whole matter. The outrage by the delusional fans where overshadowed by the more competent people and was overall taken very well. 

I made myself laugh at the thought as I took my seat in the filled classroom. I gave a soft smile to the two girls who sat by me as I placed my headphones into my bag and grabbed my laptop. I make a quick Google doc so I can pretend to take notes and pull my phone out to check any notifications I may have gotten on my walkover. I smile as I see a text from an old friend, Lauren. Me and her graduated from the same high school and we were some of the very few people to move out of state for college because of this we stayed in contact with each other; hoping to lessen the stress of college and being in a new state. 

LaLaRen: Hi, I know this is sudden and you can say no to me, but I got these concert tickets from a classmate and I was wondering if you want to come with me. I think you know this band and it is happening this Saturday. 

Me: Omg, I would love to, who is the band? :] 

LaLaRen: It is the K-pop band BTS. I only really know a few songs from them. But I remember hearing from Sarah that you love them, or maybe like K-pop in general. 

Me: No fucking way- OMG YES I WOULD GO WITH YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 

LaLaRen: Haha, okay okay how about you come down Friday so we can go shopping and hangout for a little ;0 

Me: Sounds wonderful ;]

I giggle softly to myself as I feel the energy surging in me. I have always wanted to see a BTS concert and now here is my golden opportunity, fuck willy wonka this is more amazing than his chocolate factor.

When I got back from my class, I threw my bag onto my half-made bed and sat down at my desk. I grab my laptop out of my school bag to send off an email to my professors letting them know of my absence for tomorrow. As much as me and Lauren can plan around our classes, it would be easier for us not to have them. Plus I don’t believe I can sit through another psychology lesson knowing I was going to see the biggest boy band ever. 

 My phone set off as I finished sending the emails and looking into bus tickets, the caller ID displaying ‘LaLaRen’ I laughed to myself as I accepted the call. “Hi girl,” I said to the phone smiling as Lauren laughed I placed my phone on the messy desk putting the call onto speaker so I can try and muilty task, “Hello girly, so when do you think you will be down?” she asked me with a small giggle, it looked like she was equally as excited for this. “Well it's a 3-hour bus ride, if I leave at nine I can potentially get there around noon,” I click through the website the bus service has, seeing the available times for tomorrow Internally groaning at the prices for the bus. Maybe if I start walking now I will make it in time. 

A groan gets let out through the speakers “The three-hour bus ride sounds intense, do you want to spend the night at my dorm so you don't have to take the bus after the concert?” Lauren tells me, the way she says that is more of a statement than a question. “Oh my god, a sleepover with THE Lauren, of course,” I responded to her with a high-pitched voice. We both laughed at that and spent the next few hours going over the plan and creating backup plans just in case. 

You never know what can happen in the cities. Crazy people even more crazy traffic. Expense coffees and overrated bangle places. I sign knowing that my bank account will suffer after this 2-day trip.  After our call ended, I took out my school notebooks and folders from my school bag; to use as an overnight bag. I never really had the thought of buying another backpack, I never went anywhere in my hometown to need one. Perks of being a loner with friends who would rather play video games than have sleepovers. I walked over to my dresser, placed my newly empty backpack on top of it, and began packing it with some clothes. Me and Lauren both agreed to shop for a concert outfit and get some coffee before the concert on Saturday. I bit my bottom lips as anxiety fills my stomach, shopping for clothes has always been hard for me. Not that I don't enjoy it, in fact going thrifting is one of my favorite things. 

More so the part where I have to shop for pants or skirts or any bottoms for that matter, I am in the weird awkward body type where I am not fat enough for the plus size clothing but chubby enough to not be able to fit into any size below a 16, even then some 16 pants are too small for me. With Lauren being smaller and skinnier than me I hope it goes over well shopping and we don’t need to go to a hundred different shops just to find one pair of pants that fit me. With that, I put a pair of black cargo pants into my overnight bag. It goes with a lot of outfits just in case I can only find a top to wear.

I like to think I am not super insecure about my weight, though being the fat kid growing up and now even if my weight is distributed through my body after puberty, I still have a stomach to me, I still have big thighs and I still have a chubby face. The comments made to you, even as a kid, stick with you for the rest of your life. I know I am attractive and I am confident in myself, but the insecurity is still there. Especially when you don’t fit into what society wants as a mid-size person, I have a small chest size that makes me pass off as a guy. Another thing that I don't mind as I really don’t care about my gender. But it is whatever. It makes finding a boyfriend hard but makes boys with fragile masculinities pissed off easier, a small win in my book. 

I snap out of my degrading thoughts as I finish packing my bag, adding in a few accessories and perfume. I grumble as the dining halls are now closed; though the food was probably not going to be that good anyway. I place the bag at the end of my bed and debated on ordering some takeout but with the money I was going to be spending tomorrow, I decide to try and sleep. Though I know I won’t sleep for a good while,  I can spend the night relearning fan chants and old songs. But like usual  I spent the next hour scrolling through social media, stalking old classmates before I ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion. 

I woke up that morning with a newfound pep in my step, getting dressed and ready was a blur of excitement and anxiety some thoughts of telling Lauren I don’t want to go anymore pop into my head once and a while, but I can not let my anxiety get in the way of seeing my seven fake husbands. After I was done with everything I did a final check around my small dorm making sure that I had everything As I adjusted the straps of the bag, so it fits more comfortably on my shoulders I pulled out my phone to book an Uber to the bus. I give myself one more look in the mirror before heading out of the building. I can drive by the way, but in this economy, it's impossible to buy a car. But still super expensive to use Uber everywhere, it is always a lose-lose situation. A huge fuck you to the poor and stupid college kids just trying to have fun. Maybe my soulmate is some rich dude who can drive me everywhere. Being a forever-passenger princess doesn't sound too bad. 

As I wait for the driver to come I sent a quick text to Lauren that I was on my way to the bus station which she answered with a simple ‘Okay’ My Uber drive was quick as my nerves got my adrenaline rushing throughout my body, tomorrow I am going to be seeing my all-time favorite band, and who knows maybe my soulmate will be there. He needs to have good taste in music if he wants to be with me. Though it would be easy to indoctrinate him into the BTS lifestyle. 

 I give the driver a small ‘thank you’ as I stepped out of the car just in time for the bus to be pulling in. I pulled out my phone to show them the ticket I bought last night and make my over to the bus seeing as it was filling up. I give the driver a polite smile as he gave me a nod singling that I was good to sit down wherever I wanted to. I made my way down the aisle before taking a seat in an empty section. I prayed to whatever God out there that I had to row to myself. As lady luck is on my side I get the two seats to myself as the bus pulls out of the station, I readjust the headphones on my head as I am going to heavily rely on music during this drive, maybe I can sneak in a nap beforehand too. 

The three-hour ride went well, very well it felt like only 3 minutes. Maybe I am way too excited for this concert but I never had the privilege to be this hopeful in my life. I wait a little as the bus comes to a stop and people begin to step off the bus. As I also take my leave on the bus I quickly spot Lauren, her long black hair and chunky glasses give her away pretty easily. We pulled each other into a hug letting out excited giggles. “Are you ready for city traffic?” Lauren asks me with wiggling eyebrows “Of course” I say back to her, we begin to take off to meet up with Lauren’s soulmate who would be driving us. We talked about the concert and the songs we hope to hear. The sounds of traffic, people talking, kids yelling and cars honking filled the air like an unwelcomed hug from your weird aunt; uncomfortable but familiar I nodded my head along as Lauren rants about how close we are going to be to the stage and hoping to see Namjoon that close up

Then for the first time in my life, I felt a tug, anxiety filled my stomach as I froze in my tracks, and my heartbeat went through the roof as I looked down at the red thread I usually forget about, it loosened. Holy shit I am near my soulmate. Holy shit. Lauren notices that I stop walking and now staring at my pinky finger asks me “Are you okay?” I initially looked around the bus station, there were a lot of people walking around, too many to see where the string goes. “Is it your soulmate?” Lauren asks me again. I couldn't speak, my mouth dry as I gave her a shaky nod.

But unfortunately just as it loosens it quickly tightens again, meaning my soulmate either left or is on a bus going further away from me. “I wonder if he felt it” I questioned out loud, looking at Lauren with shaken eyes. She sighs, almost equally disappointed “Come on Clare is waiting for us, we don’t want to keep her waiting.” Lauren tells me, grabbing my hand and basically dragging me to the exit. I can’t stop staring at my red thread, there's hope. There is always hope. Now I at least can find comfort that he is in the States, and not in Korea or Russia or anything far away.