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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

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Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Fluff, mentions of death, being hunted, vulgar language, price in a tunic (yes this is a warning by itself), awkwardness, nakedness, suggestive (?), implied age gap, etc.

A/N: I'm feral over this AU, ong. A million kisses to the Anon that brought this to my attention-btw this is definitely becoming a mini-series.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your family told you to never go beyond the deep waterways of the cove, never to brave the open sea. Times were changing. The Harpies, when they weren't as shrewd about their feathers getting wet, would fly down from their tall mountain spires and tell stories—ones about the hunting ships.

They’d seen them, they said as your family listened on in horror from the rocks, dragging all manner of Merfolk up from the waters in large nets made of iron and hard steel. Spears that tore scales to take for profit. In other instances, the unlucky individuals were even sold to royalty to become showpieces in displays of high wealth and standing.

But it wasn’t just Merfolk. It was all manner of mystical beast and being. Hunted. Sold. Humans, your parents had told you, were not friends. They were greedy and selfish; more than often cruel.

And so they started to do the same unto them. Your family would lure them with their voices to the ends of the great ships that were brought close to your cove—watch as they hurled themselves from the sides into the grasp of the ruthless waves. They did it for you, they explained. To try and keep you safe.

For years they did this until they were gone too.

Suddenly the cove seemed more like a prison than a safe spot, and the Harpies no longer came to converse or tell news. Killed or taken you had no idea, but it was becoming fairly obvious that even interactions with your own people were impossible. Were you the only mermaid left? It was a good question to ask and one that you could never answer. All that you knew was that you had been alone for a very long time.

That was, before you first laid eyes on the fisherman.

You watch him now, yet again, from behind the sharp jutting body of the rocks; the water delicately bobs you up and down as your vibrant tail hangs limp in its otherworldly throes. Eyes softly wide and mouth parted in wonder.

He’s walking along the deck of a small ship—not the large and intimidating ones of the other men that sail the seas—with a strong form. A hat on top of his head of brown hair and a well-trimmed beard of the same color made him look gruff in appearance.

Your hands shift over the sharp black stone, and the nakedness of your top is covered by the long strands of your wet, uncut, hair. This man wore a plain white tunic and brown pants stuffed into large boots. Even as far as you were, you heard the soft whistled tune dancing in the shell of your ears. Delicate eyes watch, head slowly peeking out more and more.

He was tending to the nets he had on the bow and as you studied him you were mystified.

“Fascinating,” you whisper, unknown emotions swirling in you.

His muscles strain, large and expansive shoulders lead down to a tapered waist; legs that you blink at before glancing at your tail under the rippling water. There’s a large grunt before the fisherman’s net is thrown in a beautiful arc, hitting the water with a slap and a spray of liquid as it begins to sink. Startled, you flinch back, gasping loudly.

With a racing heart, you quietly scold yourself for the childish reaction, flicking your tail in annoyance. Slowly but surely, your head peaks back out with water dripping down the flesh of your shoulders.

But when you shift back into the open, you find a deep set of stormy blue eyes digging into your field of view. You freeze, seeing his lids go back in surprise and shock as your jaw slackens. A cold fear enters your veins at the new attention brought to you but you find yourself unable to look away.

The Fisherman is the picture of utter stillness, just as you are, like twin mountains of ancient stone. Your nervousness only seems to grow as he doesn’t do anything—teachings and lessons about those who walk on two legs and sail in ships poking holes into your mind.

Gawking and spying were one thing…but being seen meant death. You swallow stiffly and go tense, shifting to half-hide behind your rock.

“Oh, no,” your mouth murmurs, self-hatred and fear lining the tone. “Oh, no, no, no.”

And yet the Fisherman had not moved, nor made any attempt to pull his sinking net back into his boat. Fish panic in the rope grave they’ve been ensnared in. His eyes….why are they so curiously locked on you?

You spare one last glance before shoving away from the rock and disappearing under the water with a violent splash; making off for the deep underwater caves that offer salvation.

When you’re down there—in the darkness with only silent ripples of light to guide your eyes—you find it hard to stop thinking about the Fisherman and his strong jaw. His genuine awe at the sight of you.

Had he not heard the stories of the Merfolk of this region? Or…or were you truly the last of your kind?

The thought troubles you, and, riddled with anxiety, you go over to your store of shiny trinkets that you’d collected over the years; grabbing them in your hands and fiddling with them to try to put your mind at ease. The walls of the caves bare down on you and you hope you’d not just signed over your own death warrant.

Maybe he’ll go away, you offer yourself, face tight and tail curled close, maybe he’ll be afraid and won’t come back.

It was a pointless belief. They always come back—driven by greed or a righteous authority. Humans were cruel.

But your brain goes back to stormy blue eyes like pebbles and softly parted lips. Orbs glinting with wonder and shock. No attempt to shout or grab for the large knife you’d seen strapped to his belt.

A fisherman, you told yourself, who hesitated to go after the biggest fish of them all.

You didn’t quite know if that made you more afraid or more intrigued.

—

It was only after you’d spent three weeks in the underwater caves of the cove that you’d finally decided the coast was clear. You’d cautiously gone back through the winding seaweed and schools of marine life to hide in your little rock fort; afraid but brave. From under the waves in the calm of the water you’d scanned the surface for the shadows of a boat, anything to indicate that the man had returned.

Nothing.

Tension leaves your shoulders and you travel upwards, vibrant scales shimmering like jewels. You were quite close to the mainland, you would say, back to the shore to look out over the open entrance to your home. At the first sign of danger, the rocks would be your first point of shelter if you wished to remain hidden but continue to watch.

Ears popping as your head surfaces, you only look out with the water swaying below your eyes; nose and chin hidden. Sand from behind you shifts.

“Knew I’d seen something, then, eh?” Your heart lurches—brain flashing to hooks and nets; you shove yourself back under the water with a garbled gasp.

Fish around your form dash away as you frantically look back at the surface, your scales shining as the light hits them. Fingers tense in the water, you shift your body so that your form has its back to the floor of the cove and breathe quickly in your own mermadian way with shaking fins.

On the very edge of the shore, you see the shadow of a sitting body in the sand. He hadn’t moved, this Fisherman. Was waiting as inanimate as an empty shell.

What had he said? You ask yourself, hair disturbed by the flow of the waves above your head. A gentle back and forth. After a moment of contemplation, the large muscle in your breast slows itself and a nervous curiosity grows.

Yet still, the shadow stays completely motionless beside the occasional itch and brush as facial hair. Waiting.

Waiting to attack, your hand twitches in the water and you flutter your tail to take you closer to the open air, or waiting to see me?

Taking what you can describe as a deep breath, the top of your head once more breaks the top of the water; lashes dripping salty tear-drops as you blink away the sting. Every part of you is ready to disappear once more if things go south.

And then you lock eyes once more.

The Fisherman sits in the sand with his boots pushing up the granules—his right hand rests over his bent knee while the other keeps him up in a relaxed position from behind his back. You stare, the sun reflected in your eyes with a small glinting and hair in your vision. A foreign heat builds in your face when the man’s head tilts; tiny eyes narrowing as if he’d just proven a point to himself.

Why doesn’t he seem surprised?

There’s a moment of a smirk that slashes his hidden lips but it’s gone in a fraction of a second. His mustache moves as he speaks and your face slightly bobs lower instinctually. The Fisherman doesn't seem hostile—he has a kind of stern comfort to him.

Stubborn gruffness. And his accent only amplifies that fact.

“Well, wasn’t expecting to find you here,” his chest rumbles with his words. You find you quite like the sound of it. Shells grinding against each other and pearls that clatter in palms. Your eyes widen with innocence. The Fisherman clears his throat, still watching carefully as the water sloshes over his boots. “Else I would have stayed clear when I still could.”

Your hands tread water around you, tail flickering in small movements.

The man's gaze darts down to stare as well as he could through the ripples.

“Bloody Christ,” he murmurs to himself, returning your eyes once more, “thought you were all mostly extinct. Fuckin’ hell.”

“Extinct?” Your lips flinch, chin caressing the waves as brows pull up. The Fisherman blinks as if surprised to hear you speak. To be honest, you were half afraid you couldn’t either—how long had it been since you’d had a conversation above water? You spent most of your time passing comments to rare traveling Hippocampus and Sea Serpents.

Not that they could respond, of course.

By now your face had entirely left the water, that word startling you. Your chest tightens.

“What do you mean,” you ask the older man, this strange Fisherman who was shifting his weight in the sand, “extinct?”

Dark brows furrow and his back slightly straightens itself.

“You aren't exactly what I’d be calling common, Love. No one’s seen one of your kind in years.” Your face stills.

“Years?” Head angling itself down, you stare at your reflection in growing fear.

The Fisherman makes a move to stand, and you dart back swiftly. A pale hand is held in the air as if to sedate you.

“Easy, now.” It’s said softly, a grunt stuck at the beginning. A small moment passes before the man fully stands up, dressed similarly to when you’d seen him before.

Top, pants, hat. There’s also a flash of metal around his neck, some piece of jewelry hidden on the chain under the layer of his thin, flowy, tunic. Hands go to cross over his chest in a display of muscle gained from a long time of hard work.

You nervously plead for an explanation, “B-but that…that doesn’t make any sense! I’m not the only one left!”

“No,” the Fisherman slowly states, taking off the hat from his head and delicately placing it on the ground. “No, you’re not the last.”

His eyes dart along your visible body, trying to catch a glimpse of that tail that was in all stories about your kind.

“Your name, Ma’am,” he asks, blue returning to your own sights, “what is it.”

“Well, what’s yours?” You counter, getting snappy in your anxiousness. “You come into my home and expect me to answer to you? And where’s your fishing boat anyways—unless a male Selkie has suddenly managed to brave the deep sea?”

Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, but you had sworn the Fisherman had smiled at you; it was a swift slash of something that pulled his mustache back and wrinkled his face. An amused thing it was. A sort of tiny tease, in its own right.

Your heart beats steadily at the sight, eyes watching.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, then.” He scratches at his beard with one hand, still studying you with a tilt of his head. As if weighing what he should tell you. There was an air of intrigue but that did nothing to hide the hesitance. “I docked my boat in the sea cave, thought it would do more harm than good to leave it in the open. If you’d seen it, you wouldn’t have shown, eh?” The Fisherman points and you look to the deep indent in the mountainside, the tiny ship visible as it stays stationary. You blink at it slowly.

“And you can call me whatever it is you like, I don’t bloody care, but I’m not inclined to tell one of the Merfolk my name—I may have come ‘ere, but I’m not fuckin’ daft, now.”

It was true, what he spoke of. Names to your people have a stark and violent purpose. To know one's name is to own a piece of that person’s soul. Songs gain more power, words grow into orders followed without thought. Not that it was your intention.

You glower, brows pulling in.

“A simple fisherman does well to know that it’s rude to speak ill like such in another’s home.” The man smirks, cheeks rising.

“Simple, am I?” The already expansive build of his shoulders widens as he leans back on his heels, water sloshing at his boots. His eyes glimmer like lighting with humor. The look makes your cheeks burn with warmth, throat swallowing saliva.

“Why are you here?” You avoid the question, treading water and letting your tail drift. Willing the water to cool your senses. It was obvious that this man wasn’t a hunter—foolish, perhaps, but no hunter.

Or maybe just confidently brave.

The Fisherman hums under his breath, grunting in the way you’d already come to associate with him. Rugged fellow, really. Weathered like a pile of old rope but still handsome, the sinews under the stain of dirt pure of color. You found yourself, however apprehensive, enjoying the squareness of his face; how the brunette’s hair would sweep in the warm breeze.

He was attractive.

“Fishing, Ma’am.” A broad sweep of one of his hands, “You have a proper cove. Plenty of places to cast.”

Your tight arms somewhat loosen.

“Just fishing?” Your voice darkens. “Then why is it you’re here on shore and not doing just that.” Tail flickering, it lightly brings you back from him, eyes always darting away to stare into the background of his form—at the dark shadows of trees behind the dark rocks. At the open mouth of the cove in case of extra ships.

If what he told you earlier was true, you were in danger just by living.

Extinct? Not seen in years? No, that can’t be right. A deep knot forms in your stomach.

“I may be human, Ma’am, but I believe myself to be above intrusion.” The Fisherman splays his hands by his waist and shifts his thighs. He seems serious again, like a wave going forward and back he seemed to always revert to a crafted visage of firm resolve. “This is your home, and I’m asking to ferry my boat here when able. Nothing else.”

You blink in surprise, brows pulling back.

He was…asking you?

“I…own the cove no more than the Manticore owns the desert,” your voice stutters, oddly touched by his sincerity. You pause and push yourself farther above a wave. This large man didn’t seem cruel to you. “I have no claim on the waters—they have been here longer than I. Do as you wish.”

While that should have been the end of it, you found his blue eyes continuing to watch you, head tilted like a shaggy dog. Thinking deeply with a slight parting of his lips and rising to his lids.

At the intensity of his silent wonder, your head goes light. Had you said something strange? No, it was just the truth. Then…why was this man’s face going to a modest pink shade? Why were his eyes darting away from yours and his feet shifting?

You narrow at him before he speaks, clearing his throat and crossing his arms.

“Alright,” the Fisherman mutters, chest rumbling.

A silence falls where your ears twitch to the lapping of the sea-foam and the feeling of blood in your veins which mirrors such movements. As you saw him do to you, your vision falls to the man’s body; looking across the tapering of his waist and the rolled sleeves of his tunic—showing off years of muscle

“I don’t suppose…” Your tail flinches from the sudden noise from the brunette, expecting him to swim over to his boat and get to his business. You stare and listen, and for the first time, you believe a mermaid has been entranced by another's voice. “That I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again?”

The Fisherman speaks slowly, hands shifting on his biceps; thighs tense and settle. You allow the waves to connect and slide around your body and a feeling reminiscent of warm rocks in the sun grows in your heart.

Strange, this man. This serious-faced Fisherman who asks one of the Merfolk for permission over the waters we don’t control. You tilt your head to teasingly mirror the brunettes. He humphs in his throat at your action. I enjoy him.

At the first sign of danger you’d leave—but for now…talking felt good.

“Perhaps,” you say, lips twitching into a smile. “Would this nameless Fisherman enjoy the company of a mermaid? Not many would say yes.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not like those many, then, yeah?” He smiles, a small twitch of his lips. You begin backing up, getting to deeper water while maintaining eye contact. “I don’t care what you are, just that we have an agreement.”

“Very well,” your neck dips under the waves, tail momentarily peaking above the surface. Blue flickers to it, shoulders lowering in hidden awe. The Fisherman’s lungs still.

He hears your giggle before you dive under, disappearing swiftly down to your caves with a splash.

It’s a long while before the brunette picks up his hat and begins walking the length of the shore—strong steps taking him back to his ship with a tiny smile brightening his ruggedly handsome face.

He runs a hand over his chin and chuckles.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

—

You perch on the side of the Fisherman’s boat, golden comb in your grip as you run it over and over through your locks. Tangles and knots are rendered useless to the fine and beautiful make of the object, the handle covered in small barnacles and seaweed. A nice breeze wafts in the air, and behind you, the padding of feet goes across the deck. With the sliding of nets and a small whistling from the Fisherman, you feel your tail gently sway from side to side; the bottom under the water whose waves rise and lower the vessel.

It had been a week since your first meeting and you had become more relaxed about this man’s presence. He had been truthful—every day he would come and fish.

At first, you’d watch from the black rocks, sitting atop them and studying. More than once you’d see the brunette raise a hand in greeting when his boat had entered the cove; an acknowledgment that you were there and nothing more. No expectation for you to come over or speak to him.

Day after day you’d see the net being thrown from the side only to be reeled back by large arms, legs apart and firm to the deck.

On day four, you swam over and grappled onto the side of the ship, curious. Before you could even realize he instantly knew you were there—despite his back being to you—the Fisherman spoke in a cheeky tone.

“Come up, then, if you’re that interested. No use watching from the water.” So you had, with a bit more fire to your cheeks than you thought mermaids could handle.

Now it was routine. The human man would pull into the cove and you would sit on the side of his fishing boat, doing whatever you wished as he worked.

You pull your comb through the ends of your hair, placing it down after and closing your eyes before your hands grab the shiny strands, twisting them. Under your breath, you hum in tune with the Fisherman’s whistled song; the notes like a growing symphony in your head.

Song to Merfolk is sacred and revered—everything sings, in its own right, and deserves careful crafting to fully understand.

“You seem to enjoy that,” you startle to a stop, eyes popping open. Sharply looking over your shoulder, you pause your hands. Staring, the man has completely stopped his work; nets at his feet with slapping fish of all colors stuck in the rope’s limp weavings.

He squints at your confused face.

“Rhythm.”

“Oh,” you offer a smile and watch him look away only to kneel down and begin separating his quarry. “If you’re worried I’ll sing around you, think nothing of it—I know what that could cause.”

The Fisherman hums, amused at you, “I’m not. I was complimenting you,” the knife at his belt glints in the light. “You have a pretty voice, Love.”

You shyly watch him, hair partly covering your visage, and catch a glimpse once more at the necklace he seems to always wear. Silver and shiny but still hidden.

“If you knew about my species, you wouldn’t be saying that.” Explaining lowly, the man grunts, sending a look your way as he tosses a Cod farther up the deck—you watch it flop around for a moment.

“Well,” the Fisherman explains, hands pausing and body leaning closer as one of his knees connects to the wood. It’s a teasing whisper that slides into your drum, and you find yourself nearly shivering from it. Blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “I did. No worries, I’ll never tell.”

A deep chuckle joins a lighter one, and your tail shimmers in the open light; scales vibrant and rich-looking. From what the brunette can see on the deck—the smaller plates that extend all the way up your navel to stop at your belly button—you know he stares at them.

Not a greedy, evil, stare…just one of hidden admiration. It was of no surprise to you that he found it beautifully uncanny.

You have no idea how to read this Fisherman; have no idea what he wants. You think he doesn’t want anything. On your face, a strange calm settles.

“Tell me, Fisherman,” his gaze snaps from your scales to your face, momentarily stopping at the dip of your neck as you turn as fully to him as you’re able from your perch. Your hand rests at your side; spine twisted halfway. “Who are you? No, I don’t mean your name. I want your person. You don’t act afraid of me—of what I am.” He stays kneeling and lets the net rest for now, his heart beating steadily in his breast. “There is more to you than a human at sea, surely.”

Your words are not accusatory, they lacked any sort of confrontation. Curiosity, though, like enclosed treasure, was stuck behind your tongue. He surprises you by standing and beginning to walk over, boots thumping.

As he nears, he sits down with a huff on the edge, right next to you.

There’s a moment when you both stare into each other's eyes as you feel the world shift. Blinking up at him, at the closer range you take into account the ancientness of his eyes and how it seemed, for such an alone man, it was making him look far older than he was. Still older than you, yes, but the sentiment still stands.

With his hat having been retired not five minutes earlier onto one of the many ship’s barren tops, you saw the streaks of sun-bleached strands in his brown hair. You unconsciously reach for your comb but stay your fingers as they flinch over the gold.

Storm-blue carefully glances away before coming back to you.

“Not much to know, Love,” the Fisherman’s brow raises, “you understand?”

“No,” you say, honestly, head tilting at him. He looks surprised, breath hitching.

“It’s just…there’s not much to tell, Sweetheart.”

Humans are strange creatures.

Not knowing this word game, you take your hand away from the comb and bring it to his chest, slipping under the neck of his tunic to grasp at the necklace he always wears. A hand snaps to your wrist almost immediately—a startling speed that makes you flinch.

Above your heads, seagulls squawk at you, but all you can gaze into are those pure blue orbs. They trap you, drag you down far faster than a whirlpool into the briny depths of hypnotic appeasement.

Perhaps you were naive to the magical whims of males that walk on two feet.

The Fisherman’s jaw clenches, eyes tightly narrowed at you in hesitance and veiled threat. You blink at him softly, not doing anything besides twitching your fingers and widening your sight. Before long, his hold loosens but doesn’t leave, allowing you on whatever it was you were doing yet still touching your damp flesh.

Lips parting, you don’t make a fuss. Instead, you hum under your breath and allow his calluses to scrape you. The toughness becomes a stark contrast to your own make-up.

Feels nice.

Your digits peel out the article of jewelry and you shift closer to look; bare chest brushing against his. You can feel his pulse through the brunette’s tunic, the way his throat shifts in a tense swallow of nothing.

The necklace held two pieces of small, round, silver and said the following.

“Jonathan Price, Captain, 141st company under the King.”

As you read, your tail gradually begins brushing his leg in its swaying. Through it all, the large Fisherman only slants his chin down and watches, breathing half through his mouth and half through his nose. You hear his throat clear; feel his grip squeeze your wrist.

It is a small and taken-aback kind of noise. He doesn’t move his hand.

You are happy he doesn’t.

“You’re a…Captain?” Asking, you look up shocked and aren’t taken aback by how close your face was to his. Even if your cheeks begin to burn at the beard bristles itching your nose.

“...Yes,” breathe puffs over the lower half of your face. Your fingers detangle from the Fisherman’s necklace and let it thump to his chest. “I was. Left.”

Blinking, you whisper, steadily, “What’s a…Captain…?”

A small sound is made in the back of his throat and he releases your wrist and pulls back before a loud bark of a laugh jerks his chest. You stare in innocent confusion, hair falling over your shoulders.

“What?” Gripping his mouth, Jonathan Price grounds himself by gripping his thigh as he chuckles.

“No, no,” he takes a deep breath and releases his face, smoothing down his beard quickly with amusement stuck in his smile. “Bloody hell, it’s nothing. Nothing at all, Love.”

He sends you a warm side glance and you huff, moving back and picking up your comb, getting back to brushing your locks again. You are acutely aware that you now know the Fisherman’s name, but refrain from saying anything until he does. Now you know why he reacted in such a way.

Your tail twitches in the water as fish brush past it and the brunette begins with a soft look.

“I was in charge of a small group of men—we had a ship. Far larger than this old girl,” he pats the deck, and you slow your motion to show that you are listening, intrigued. “We did what was needed of us, but there was a thin line that needed to be drawn to keep every bastard sane.”

Blue meets your eyes and the man’s expression darkens. Your fingers twitch as the breeze ravages his hair, chest tightening.

“And yours?” You ask softly, entranced and open, “What was your line, Captain Price?”

He hums after a small silence, sighing deeply. Along the hull of the boat, the waves rock the vessel gently side to side, and your mythical attention seems to entrap him far better than your voice could. His face loses that dark edge, well-trimmed beard relaxes as his jaw does.

The past it seems, looms over him like a tsunami.

Reaching up a slow hand, his fingers brush the tendrils of hair that had slipped out of your hold and were dangling in front of your face; the Fisherman blinks and pushes them back behind your ear. By now your brush had long stopped and your breath was held in your chest. For the first time in your life, you think you feel yourself shiver at the delicate scrape of his skin on yours.

“John,” he mutters, and you suck down a shallow breath as he watches you like you were an idol of the Gods, “Just John.”

Your smile leaves his fingers pressing deeper into your scalp and, perhaps a bit naively, you welcome him to you like a bird to the sky. You liked his gruffness—his beard and his face. The lines on his forehead that you could imagine tracing as if they belonged on a map instead of the squareness of this Fisherman’s profile. Tiny sockets that hold sapphire stones.

“Maybe I left because I couldn’t stand seeing such beautiful creatures being put to the hook, eh?” Your eyes widen, tiny gasp leaving your lips.

Merfolk swooned with flattery, truth be told. They enjoy being doted on and praised; given gifts of both words and objects. You were no different.

Oh…did he call me beautiful?

John smirks at your reaction, taking his hand off of you and standing with a low chuckle. Your tail flutters at the sudden absence, head following after him as he walks back to his net with a sway in his step. You blink in astonishment.

“You’re a strange human, John,” calling to him, you grimace at the blatant disappointment in your bones at the lack of his skin on yours. At his humored hum, you sense your growing attraction to the grind of his vocal cords. His voice. “I don’t know what to think of you.”

“Then think nothing of me,” he explains easily, casually, re-gathering his nets in his toned arms. You try not to let your jaw slacken at the bulge under his tunic when he carries them. “I’m not offended by it, Love.” A sly look, “Do as you wish.”

Your tail twitches so violently you’re afraid you might break the side of the ship.

And so this strange dance between the two of you continued well into the longer months—John would come in his ship nearly every day and you would join him on the side of the deck. Sometimes you would hum for him and he would whistle a tune back, others there were long bouts of conversation about the ways of humans and beasts. John told you that the King had ordered the total extinction of all manner of ‘strange and unordinary’ creatures to secure his line safely to the throne.

When he had explained it, the mad had gone red with anger.

“Fuckin’ muppet,” he’d spit, fiddling with his knife as you watched a small distance away, playing with his silver necklace in your hands. You twiddled it around and liked how it shimmered like your scales did in the light. “Bloody thought I would just go along with the deaths of innocent beings. He had no facts—no proof to back up his claim. I’ve done things. Horrible things,” John explained to you, sending you a stiff look, “but I’ve not forsaken my damn mind to reality. Takin’ the piss.”

Muttering the last sentence to himself, you had felt your lips curve into a smile. “You have a proper conscience, John, done bad or not.”

“Yeah, well, Sweetheart, I’ll be done in soon enough.” You only stared with care-drowned eyes and caressed his necklace. When he had seen this, his body had deflated with an exasperated grunt.

You shared a chuckle and he got back to work; feeling his melting gaze drawn back to you every so often.

Later, yet again, you found your form on his boat, this time with his hands across the small of your back as you studied the blade of his knife.

“Careful, now. Don’t run your finger along the edge.” His free grip points to the sharp side—breath fanning your ear. You feel your throat tighten and nod, caressing a thumb on the leather handle.

John’s hand is hard on your bare skin and you sense his heat drilling past your veins into the very marrow of your bones. You unconsciously sigh when his fingers slide slightly higher, traveling the length of your spine; his scars catching on every knob of bone. Your exploration stills and your pupils widen.

His breath is on your neck, nose tilting as his jaw does just above the meat of your shoulder.

“Why’d you stop?” You stare off into the metal, lashes fluttering when his fingers finally curve at the swell of your neck. Lips drag on your flesh before a deep grumble of affection stems from John’s chest as he kisses your rapid pulse. “Distracted? Hm.”

“It’s,” you breathe out, scales reflecting light as your lower body shifts on the wood. His opposite hand circles your waist, drawing your back to his chest. Skin burns and thoughts go to liquid as you feel his roving muscle. “It’s g-good. Pretty—”

Words fail you as his lips continue to slowly travel.

“Could say the same,” John grunts; beard scraping down your flesh.

Your eyes flutter, head tilting to give more room at the same time you whisper out, violently shivering at the compliment, “John…”

“What is it?” The grip moves to run over your scales, right where your upper hips would be; the sensation of him caressing you with gentle, deep, rubs of his thumb was all it took for you to give in completely to him. “Go on, Love, speak.”

You take a breath and feel his heart beating steady along your back—the texture of his tunic. “What…are you doing?”

John moves your hair and places open-mouthed kisses on the back of your neck. He breathes in your scent and you turn your light head to stare unabashedly at his flushed face. Your tail sways, limp, over the side of the boat.

Blown pupils hide that sea-storm blue like a lock and key to dangerous thoughts and attraction.

In answer, his eyes flicker down to your lips hungrily and your gaze widens; a small sound in the base of your throat.

“You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” He says and you let him lean in closer to your face, eyes threatening to close when you take in the musk of human flesh and sweat. Rope and wood oil. John’s words make you shiver again, hairs standing on end—responding to that deep growl with a roaring in your ears.

You shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t be enjoying his lips or his tight grip; his…his rough, large, hands that encapsulate your body and drown you. It terrifies you, this heart-stopping magnetism. You can’t get enough of him.

John presses his firm lips to yours, groaning into the connection as you sigh and part your mouth. Fingers shaking, you twist and place your hands on his chest, gasping mutely as his teeth nip into your lower lip and pull back before pushing back forward. Sparks of subdued pain mix with pleasurable agony at the scrape of his beard hair.

“Every inch of you…” John’s grip captures you closer, hands ensnaring you against his chest like deeply intertwined strands of fabric, squeezing as he licks his upper lip. He catches his breath shallowly. Blue eyes burn through you. “...is fucking perfection.”

You grab at his necklace and drag him back in, feeling him not waste a single moment to grip the back of your head and keep you trapped to him, tongues slipping out of mouths to tangle together like seaweed. Perhaps it was foolish, but a part of you knew that this Captain, this strange Fisherman—this Johnathan Price—was the only man or being on this planet, land or sea, who could make you feel like you could walk and fly all at once.

When he lifts you in his arms and drops you in his lap as if your body weighed as much as a pebble, you knew you’d brave the open ocean for this man in an instant. His arm drips with water as it slips under the joint of your tail; where your knees would be if you had them, and you whine into his mouth at the slip of his fingers.

Intoxicated, drunk off of his scent and his pressure.

A dangerous mix of two different lives.

It couldn’t last.

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hollyhomburg · 11 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.55)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Namjoon’s rut hits, and hits hard. Not all of it is pretty. Not all of it is sweet.

Tags: Free use, Rough Fucking, Size kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Knotting, Breeding kink, lactation kink, Group sex, Copious Dirty talk, Praise, Humiliation kink, dumbification kink, Biting, Blood mention, Blood kink, messy sex, Feral! Namjoon, Creampie, cum kink, cumplay, So much cum it’s honestly gross, Oral (f and m receiving), mommy kink, intercrural sex, briefly implied masochistic! Namjoon, collars, Trans! Tae, dysphoria mention, Jimin indirectly misgenders tae at one point (bad minnie), small amounts of fluff here and there, everyone lives nobody dies,

W/c: 18.7k

A/N: Listen, i don’t want to talk about the word count. I’m so excited to stop writing smut for this series for a little bit after this chapter 😭 don’t be surprised with the last scene bitch slaps you across the face cuz ngl, i’m a little proud of it.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

(Ache)

Namjoon’s rut lasts for 3 nights and 4 days.

It’s quiet like drowning when you stir in the living room nest. A thick blanket of rut hormones sticking and burning in your mouth and nose. The milder smell of slick bright. Jungkook’s and Jin’s. Both. You have no idea when exactly Namjoon's pre-rut broke only that you're in the thick of it now.

You feel oddly cold. A strip of skin around your middle where your shirts pulled up vaguely bereft. Almost like there had been someone wrapped around you in the night.

You don't know what woke you until you hear it- the fast wet sound of two bodies thumping against one another.

Everyone’s already awake. You watch as Hobi pulls himself up onto unsteady knees, cradling Jungkook’s cheeks in both of his hands. hands that slide to under his arms.

He needs the support of someone holding him up because Namjoon's fucking him like a ragdoll. Holding both of his arms behind his back, fingers delicately circling his wrists and using them to tug him back and forth on his knot. the omega’s chest arched and bare. Nipples hard in the cold air.

The fast pace Namjoon fucks him with is at odds with the alpha's usual gentleness. But nothing about Namjoon in a rut is like what you'd expect from your pack alpha:

Namjoon’s mouth is drawn back into a snarl. He pulls back harder Forcing Jungkook to arch his spine and let out these little noises, keens, and whines as Namjoon yanks his half-formed knot in and out of his wet hole. Seemingly uncaring of the omega's comfort or the vaguely distressing noises he's making.

Someone must have followed Jungkook’s earlier pleas; a pink and sparkly cock cage bobs below him, angry and red and completely untended.

Jungkook’s crying but you’re not alarmed by it. If anything you understand. It’s so convenient to cry on Namjoon’s knot. It’s practically an emotional pallet cleanser with how new it makes you feel. Namjoon pulls Jungkook back ass to hips, as deep as he can get and still not deep enough.

Hobi holds Jungkook’s face, pulling him close and saying something that makes the omega keen and shake harder. Hobi stays there until he cums. Face tucked close to the other alpha's chest. Namjoon doesn’t respond to another alpha's closeness with any truly territorial behavior but still.

His lip lifts from teeth that look even sharper in rut. A warning to stay obedient.

The rut is beginning to affect you; you can feel it on your jaw. the alphas and yoongi might not feel it, but you omega’s do. your scent fluffs out calm and soothing, stronger and more heady, beckoning your alpha to you. There’s an ache and burn in your throat. A chirp or a purr building. Electricity in the air and the goosebumps on your arms. all coupled with the warm-wet-want sensitivity between your thighs leads you to believe it’s just the pheromones.

He smells so good, so good you lick your lips and pout, still half asleep.

Your mates’ hands wipe your hair back from your sweaty forehead, his usual good morning touches uncharacteristically shaky. Yoongi’s face is sleepy relaxed and smiling, but there’s tension in his eyes as he wakes you softly.

He'd rather not wake you just as Namjoon needs another knot. Jin's on the other side of the nest, and while it wouldn't be terrible to ask him to go again, Yoongi won't make that decision for you.

It won’t be long now. Jungkook’s already cum and Namjoon’s knot is close to popping. At this stage of the rut, you’ll have maybe 20 minutes before the pack alpha’s knot deflates and he turns his wicked intentions on you.

Yoongi’s hands tighten around your upper arms. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to do, keep you here so that the pack alpha can knot you, or peel you off of the floor of the nest and bring you to him. Both parts of Yoongi are at war. His fingertips tease at the fine baby hairs of your upper arms, clean and silky.

“We tried to let you sleep as long as possible.”

You nuzzle into his throat and sag back against his chest. Content to cuddle while you wait for your turn. You squirm all the while. Yesterday- taking Namjoon’s cock was so intense. Will it feel as good in rut too?

At odds with your mate’s sometimes somber expression Tae shuffles over. a bright pink blotch in the mostly pastel nest. She looks soft and excited, lips glossy from her lip mask. There is a small bit of her skincare routine sitting on the couch, Jimin brought what she deemed ‘her necessities’ earlier. There’s a good batch of the special numbing cream/antiseptic/soother Just in case.

The cup of water she offers you is flavored with lemon. Sleepy touches and cute kisses, chaste questions about how you dreamed. All the while behind her you can see Jungkook and Namjoon fucking. It’s a little rude to ignore them, right?

Soon you’ll learn that while a rut can be awfully interesting and consuming for the omegas, For the other alphas it can get a bit boring.

Although they're allowed to fuss and care for the rest of you between the waves. There's a lot of waiting to be needed. It's likely they won't need to be fucked for a few more hours or even days. Until Namjoon's rut truly reaches a fevers peak and the omegas need a stretch of uninterrupted sleep.

That's how Namjoon's rut works: bad until it's worse, worse until it’s unbearable, and then the placid fall. Usually accompanied by the pack alphas tears. Ruts are intense not only sexually but emotionally too. When Namjoon gives in it always makes the eventual downfall worse. Rut-drop is different for every alpha.

Most of the time, Namjoon just tries not to act like a monster. Tries not to feel like one either regardless of Jungkook's pleas. Jungkook had nuzzled close soon after Namjoon had knotted Jin and whispered low in his ears, "I want you to fuck me up hyung. Please breed me until i can't think about anything but your knot,"

That's why he growled at Hobi, who had the audacity to insinuate that Namjoon wasn't doing something his packmate begged for.

A loud squeal and growl interrupt your conversation and tae sighs, Stirring her coffee with a clack of porcelain. (Knots popped then). Tae continues her usual morning kisses and scent marks like an alpha in rut isn’t directly behind her. Regardless of your intermittent squirming and darting gaze. Your scent spikes and Namjoon looks up, but he’s still riding the end of his knot.

"Pup," she says, directing your eyes back to her with her hand on your chin. "Eyes on me."

"Sorry Mommy."

There's no need to make Namjoon even more restless. Tae knows what you smell like- like fresh-cut fruit to a fly. As much as the pack alpha probably wishes he was doubly endowed like some monster out of a bad porno, he only has one knot. One omega at a time.

Normally, just Jin and Jungkook would be enough to take the edge off the first wave. But Namjoon has a third omega now. It’s hot and grating to see you on the other side of the nest. His alpha scratches and claw at Namjoon’s chest. Telling him the inferno won’t end, not until every omega in his pack is claimed.

Tae shuffles closer to Yoongi so that he can curl around the both of you, stroke over your stomach, clenching in anticipation. You know that she’s touching you because she’s thinking about how bred you’ll be soon. She missed too much yesterday, and she won’t take her eyes off of you this time.

Knotting Jungkook is a brief and lucid affair for Namjoon, who does little more than tuck his face into Jungkook’s throat and take big greedy gasps at the omega’s scent gland. Honey sweet omega. Jungkook clenches around his knot, clamping down every few seconds like he’s trying to milk him of his cum. Purring small and cute rumbles that make Namjoon feel like jelly.

No unpleasantness yet, just a dopy smile of his omega, clumsy finger running through the mess on his stomach. Pressing it into Namjoon's skin, marking him too.

Namjoon’s knot goes down and the pack descends for some fussing. Jungkook flops down onto the nest right where he was bred because he’s too tired to move any farther. Jimin’s fingers check his hole with a press of gentle fingers. They feel thin in comparison to Namjoon's knot. No redness or irritation yet. Jungkook tolerates a few seconds before he pushes at Jimin's hands, demanding to be wiped up for breakfast.

Interest perks up between your legs, like Namjoon can sense it his nostrils flare and he sets his eyes on you. His cock hasn't gone down at all, He'll be like that, full mast, no flagging until the end of the rut.

He's the only one without any clothes on, everyone else wears at least one item of clothing. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be too upset that you’re in a large shirt. But it’s ever so intimidating to see him shuffle close, big cock heavy looking between his legs.

You squirm. But Tae and Yoongi hold you.

You don’t know where the trickle of fear comes from. Yoongi soothes you by petting the top of your head and keeping you still as Namjoon shuffles closer.

He leans down, nosing over your knee, pupils dark and wide. You squeak when He tugs your hips apart so that the sweet center of you is bare to the open air. A faint wet patch on your panties. His omega, wet for him. So small, so easy to manhandle and lift by the hips to settle onto his knees, out of Yoongi’s lap and into his.

You squeak a little turning when he pulls you flush against him, trying to get into the presenting position that your instincts want you to be in, chest down like nature intended, face buried in the perfect nest you’ve made for this purpose.

Namjoon doesn't like your twisting, holding you still.

You end up sitting on his powerful thighs facing Yoongi and Tae, sipping at her coffee and smiling like you don’t have an alpha in rut nosing at your throat. His big hands slide up and down your sides, touching you everywhere verifying that you’re okay, that you’re safe. Soothing the fear clenching bird-cage tight around his heart.

Namjoon is perilously lost to his rut as he leans to nose at your shoulder, sniffing your mating mark. Mouthing at it and your scent gland, sweet and warm under his lips, plush and nice tasting under his teeth. You turn, trying to move so you can face him but-

But he grabs your wrists, holds both of them, growling out a single word (it’s so hard for Namjoon to speak right now, like speaking through a mouthful of peanut butter).

“Stay.”

You freeze, But You’re a good omega. your instincts what you to obey Namjoon, limbs turned to jelly by a single order. Tae hides her smile behind the rim of her coffee cup, and Yoongi shifts in the way that you know he does when he’s turned on but wants to hide as Namjoon sniffs up and down your shoulder until he’s satisfied that you smell soothed, nipping hard enough to leave marks.

Only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock, pressing against the soft fabric, not trying to fuck you yet but still there.

Namjoon doesn’t need you to present for him. An omega as sweet and small as you shouldn't be left to bob and move across the nest. Namjoon can keep you safer this way. In his lap, under his palms, any farther would be too far.

You try to say something to him but he can’t hear it. Namjoon doesn’t even bother turning you around to face him, sitting back on his heels and pulling you with him. Hands fumbling to push down your panties until they’re around one knee.

Wet slick gathers at his fingers, dripping onto his stomach mixing with Jungkook’s mark. A delicacy destined to go to waste when Namjoon’s alpha wants. When Namjoon’s alpha howls and scratches at his chest that he needs to breed you or else.

Namjoon pulls you back, a hand under each thigh and your back rest against his chest. he lifts you up just enough to where he can settle you on his cock in one smooth movement. You choke but Namjoon needs. he’s Barely lucid, “Sorry- ’m sorry-” he chants when he makes you let out a first wet sob at the insistent press of his cock against your sensitive hole. halfway in much quicker than before. No waiting this time because you’re so well-prepped.

It's just as intense, if not more, with how immediately Namjoon goes back to mouthing at your shoulder.

You knew what to expect but Namjoon’s cock burns as it fills you, just as thick as last time making you dizzy. Yoongi’s hand darts out alarmed, but you hold it softly where you grab it, tangling your fingers together, and nodding that you’re alright, hiccupping.

“m’fine just- fucking hell Namjoon-”

Namjoon purrs and Tae leans on her elbow to watch. He holds your thighs apart a little wider so she can see where you meet. You look so small compared to Namjoon’s knot, so small it looks like it shouldn’t fit. Tae’s own cock twitches in interest. The sight of your cunt clenching around nothing when he lifts you up all the way is frankly too erotic.

Tae purs join Namjoon’s, coffee long forgotten.

Namjoon fucks you just as brutally as he fucked Jungkook, His body trembles as he tries to hold himself back but he can’t. He can’t stop himself from lifting you up and settling you back down again. Nudging a choked moan from your throat every time his cock fills you.

The thickness makes you breathless and has your body instinctively trying to pull off. Too big. He's too big.

He's not. Namjoon gives you no leverage from this angle. And brings you down on his cock regardless of your sudden panic. Too close, just like last time you're too close too quick. You can do little more than try and keep from letting out embarrassing noises as Namjoon ruts his hips forward. He holds you at his mercy and gives you very little room to move on your own. No chance to pull off as your first orgasm buries you.

Your sudden gush of slick drips down his cock when you cum, wetting the skin of his knot hot, nudging wider now at your hole. The burn is so good. So full. Your skin feels two sized two small over your bones. Yoongi’s lopsided smile has your stomach twisting in embarrassment.

You sob, Pussy clenching greedy tight around Namjoon’s cock.

Tae smiles and reclines in the nest to watch, smiling like she knows it's driving you crazy, eyes hovering where you drip and where you and Namjoon meet. She plucks your underwear off your dangling leg. Folding it until you can't see any of the light blue fabric. Holding it hard, knuckles white.

“I love watching Alpha play with you, does his cock feel good in your little hole honey? So good you just had to make a mess for mommy. My sensitive little pup.” She croons.

Namjoon burns hotter in a rut- sweat dripping down your spine, filthy licks of pleasure burning through your stomach as you nod. You’re so slick, so wet already.

Your body gives and gives. His cock touches every bare inch, wet deep and absolutely mind-numbing. Yoongi pulls himself closer and grabs your joined hands. bringing them to his lips to kiss your palm. "Doing so well for alpha sweetheart, doing so well for us."

The praise burns and stirs your arousal. Tae leans up to kiss your knee, and the image of them gets all warped as you start to cry. Namjoon's cock is truly the perfect Emotional pallet cleanser.

You hiccup, “Why does he have to be like, so fucking big-” Tae grins, smelling sweet and looking like you want her all over you.

“It’s a plot device, can you imagine if he was normal-sized? That wouldn't be fun at all” Yoongi barks a laugh shifting in the nest. He’s half hard just like Tae but his arousal isn't what's important right now.

You pant lying your head back on Namjoon's shoulder. You wish Tae would stay away from bookish metaphors when you’re getting the knotting of a lifetime.

"Sure, 'fun' is definitely- fuck- how I'd describe- Alpha please-"

So close to being fucked dumb, Tae and yoongi just laugh. Tae's hand smooths over your shaking thigh, trembling freely as Namjoon holds them. Soft giggles fade out. Her fingers toy on Namjoon’s powerful thigh as you bob, manicured fingers wandering to where you meet, and his next growl is for her.

This one's a warning. Namjoon will nip at her throat later in punishment if she interferes. His teeth will turn her honey skin all roses too. Purple and pink ones sucked by his mouth. Tae would look so pretty with marks. She looks pretty without them but Namjoon could make her prettier.

He fucks you so deep. You know Namjoon’s rut pheromones are supposed to make you open wider, open more to take his knot, but it feels like he’s fucking directly into the place you’d carry pups. So deep that he can’t not knot there.

It’s probably a good thing that you couldn’t get pregnant outside of a heat right now. Because if Namjoon cum’s this deep there’s no way he wouldn’t knock you up. Your alpha growls like he knows it, hands forcing your hips down like you might try and squirm away.

You're so cute like this, flushed face and sleepy on his knot. His hand's fist on your hips, keeping you impaled as you sob. Salty tears that Namjoon licks away. Such a soft little omega like you is certainly too vulnerable to walk around unclaimed. Namjoon should knock you up so that everyone else knows who you belong to.

The others are a rim of bodies on the edge of the nest, a mixture of asleep and awake and dozing. It’s Impossible for Yoongi not to watch as Namjoon lifts you by your thighs and uses you. Filthy fantasies that he’d never dreamed of when it came to you brought to life. Yoongi knows how good it feels just to lie back and take it. How good it feels to be used sometimes.

Tae's hands grab Yoongi's waist, petting up and down his bulge. Fingers circling a dewy patch not touching under his black boxers. She shushes his protests. Whispering that it's cute that he's so turned on, that seeing his mate get bred so well she'd dumb from it has him hard.

Namjoon's knot is already close to popping. Wet heat hugging him so perfectly. His hand's fist on your hips hard, bruising your thighs without meaning to.

He nips at the scruff of your neck, and you cum again, wet and gentle, dripping faintly onto the nest. Just a little.

Tae shifts closer to you sitting across Yoongi's parted thighs. Namjoon’s kissy licks are sloppy and demanding when Tae guides him in. Distracted. Namjoon just rocks into you. Tae's giving you a breather a moment to catch your breath. To put your hands on her thighs and shake uninhibited.

Alpha, Namjoon’s brain purrs, mine, my pretty alpha.

She pulls off of his lips and he chases them. Her eyelashes press against her cheeks like soft wisps of a petal. But her lips speak not of Eden’s but of beautiful wicked things that Namjoon's alpha hungers for.

“She'd look so pretty knocked up alpha? Don't you agree? I need to learn alpha; can't you show me?" Namjoon’s cock twitches inside of you. Her hands wander, drifting up your sides to touch your chest.

Tae’s fingers tease at your nipples and you arch into the touch. You’re Sensitive there, that part of your body not bitten or teased. “Don’t you want to make her sweet here too?” It’s dizzying, the idea of you swelling with milk. Pupped from Namjoon’s knot.

Namjoon seems to think so too because his knot actually does pops. sudden and all too thick for your hole. So big that he can do little but rock up into you, locking you together. The sharp feeling of Namjoon’s teeth grazing the scruff of your neck sends you spiraling as he purrs at the image of you dripping with milk because of him.

It’s so messy, his cum feels so hot and sticky as he fills you. You’re still wet and full from earlier. Namjoon cums so much, so much that you can feel it starting to slip out around the knot almost immediately. Tae seems to realize it, fingers predatory and exploring. Cupping the bulge in your tummy. Licking her lips when she pulls up the hem of your shirt to see your cunt again. Your cute clit twitches and drips just a little more under her gaze. Embarrassed by her brazen looking.

“Doing so well alpha,” she hums, petting your sweaty hair back from your forehead. “Breeding our omega so much I can feel it.” Her fingers meanly dig into the bulge in your tummy and make you gasp. She giggles when she feels the bulge where Namjoon is, twitching as he cums a little more.

It's so hot. Tae's cock is big but not this big, it excites apart of her she doesn't understand quite yet.

You soon learn that those words are like candy to him, that's the other alphas' true job, to egg him on into cumming even when he could keep breeding you for hours. Namjoon's knot is easily triggered by their filthy words.

“Don’t you want to breed me alpha? you can't until you finish with her.”

"Your cum is slipping out alpha, you have to keep him knotted so it takes."

“You can’t breed me until you eat a little Joonie, come on and be a good pup for Jinnie.”

“Breed me please alpha, she’s so tired and I’m so empty.”

You think you’ll have heard it all by the end of the week.

Tae and Yoongi help guide you into a more relaxed position, Namjoon's lap pressed flush to your ass. From the other side of the nest, Jungkook stirs. Licking his lips and yawning. He looks over at you, hair falling over his face in a sweaty mop. Sleepy satisfied pout tugging at the pack's heartstrings.

“Can someone get us some breakfast?”

2 alphas jump to their feet. Yoongi even shifts, guiltily nursing a hard cock that’s none of your business. Filthy filthy thoughts barely quieted from their symphony to melody. He'll handle it later on his own if Tae doesn’t get to him first, (she will, she’s going to eat him up, but later, after the omega’s are attended to)

Tae grabs your glass and guides a straw to your lips, prompting you to sip and soothe your hot throat. Nuzzling into the side of your face.

"Did so well for us baby pup, I knew you could handle alpha." Namjoon growls, although it's closer to a purr. agreeing. "He's nothing but a big puppy, can mommy help in any way?"

Your kiss is soft and sloppy, little more than licking into her mouth. Tae's dumb puppy just from a knot. Tae can't wait to see how puppyish you get the farther into Namjoon's rut they go.

"Can I have some breakfast too?"

Kisses, pressed to your forehead, "Of course you can."

You let out a held breath. And begin to believe that maybe this might not be so bad. Maybe all of Yoongi’s fussing was just that; fussing.

Maybe.

~-~

(Liar)

Out of all the things you didn’t anticipate for Namjoon's rut, it's Jin getting violent.

Jin prefers to ride Namjoon; something that’s endlessly grating to the alpha’s ego. His alpha demands Namjoon have his omega belly down in the nest. Legs parted and hole bare for Namjoon to ruin and breed. Territorial of it.

Their instincts push at each other, one an up well and the other a downdraft. They can’t reasonably both be dominant right now, but instincts are sharp when honed by a rut.

Jin submitting is something the pack omega would never allow. Let alone to Namjoon?

Get real.

You’re i’ll at ease in the moments when it's Jin's turn. It’s a bit frightening watching both of them, even if you’re too sore to even consider trying to get in between them. Trying to stomach the fruit that Jimin feeds you slices of pineapple as you watch the war. Neauseu brimming and a stomach ache too.

Although that could just literally be Namjoon’s cum. The alphas were conscientious of it, and put you in the largest shirt imaginable. Pooling over your thighs. But it’s still there- the heaviness. The complete feeling of being breed rull, making you sluggish and prone to cuddling and dozing. Kneading at the nest and fluffing it too. Not unlike the feeling of getting full off of pasta

Not a food-coma, but maybe a cum-coma.

Jin called them brooding instincts earlier. The ones that tell you to stay put and keep the nest warm for your alpha. the same instincts that prompt the alphas to feed you by hand, their omega’s too precious to lift a finger.

Namjoon doesn’t feel them, that much is clear from the way he and jin fight. you sniffle and contemplate asking them to stop.

They pull each other back and forth across the nest, grappling for control. Namjoon would never hurt Jin but his snarls make it seem like he might. Namjoon threatens to nip at jin’s throat, closing, holding on until Jin grabs his jaw and claws at it. Raking his nails down Namjoon's throat leaving red lines. Namjoon tries to press Jin's shoulders down but Jin slaps the alpha clear across the face.

He does that several times.

You wince, but honestly...Namjoon seems like he likes it a little too much. halfways grinning and halfway bearing his teeth. the bloodlust and actual lust tangling into an intoxicating rush.

You wince when you watch Jin twist the alpha's wrist back when he tries to press his hand flat against the omega’s tummy. “don’t touch me like I’m some sort of broodmare Namjoon- I mean it.”

Namjoon snarls, pushing up against Seokjin's weight unsuccessfully ousting him. You can’t help but think that if that were you you’d bob across the nest like a paperweight. Only his body weight keeps him solidly seated over Namjoon's knot, teasing it between his wet cheeks.

Namjoon tries to nibble at the omega’s shoulder, but jin pushes him away by the face. he raises a finger menacingly. “don’t you fucking dare bite me again.” every syllable laced with pure command, and Namjoon holds himself back- just barely.

Namjoon tries to scruff Jin, with his hands and his teeth, but ends up just gnashing his teeth. The omega's body is and not limp and breedable scruffed stupid like Namjoon wants.

You watch, nibbling on fruit, Jimin waiting with the next slice in his hands completely unbothered by it, the rest of the pack too- doesn't pay the display of aggression any mind.

You’re sticky in places that you shouldn’t be sticky, sore in places you wish you weren’t sore. A no-spill mug half full of liquid next to you (an unfortunately necessary precaution that reminds you a little too much of a sippy cup to be completely unshy about it). You'd accidentally knocked Tae's cup earlier. A stain on the edge of the nest sits, red-pink violent messiness.

Jin actually kicks at Namjoon’s thigh, gripping his hair and pulling hard enough to rip it out. Namjoon’s canines look particularly sharp in the evening light.

“Fuck- just fuck- submit” Namjoon grinds out, teeth gnashing menacingly. It takes real effort for him to speak right now and you wince as Jin nearly kicks Namjoon’s cock with his next move. You can’t imagine that would garner a pleasant reaction.

Then again...maybe Namjoon likes that kind of thing a little more than you thought.

None of your packmates seem alarmed at all, even Hobi, who carries various containers of sliced fruit ducking down to offer them to anyone who might want them. Bare-chested with only his tapered track pants hanging low on his hips, nibble marks up and down his chest and arms. It's a sympathetic predicament; a mark or two peaks out from under your collar too. Not just marks from Namjoon, but bite marks or sucked bruises from all of them too.

Nothing makes the pack want to claim each other like a rut.

"You all good here?" hobi asks, voice soft and gravely. Jimin nods before you can, a bowl of mango and pineapple between his thighs. Hobi moves on to Jungkook whose making grabby hands at the blueberries. He’s got a bit of dried cum on his cheek and you watch as hobi produces a wet washcloth seemingly out of nowhere to clean it off.

Your heart clenches longingly. Jimin doesn’t notice your slightly souring scent, too busy holding onto a slippery piece of mango that he presses against your lips.

Hobi’s been staying on the opposite side of the nest from you for most of this. whenever it's your turn to take Namjoon's knot he makes sure to look away, pretend to be sleeping, or makes himself busy. Puts his back to you in the kitchen while he fills up a water jug or rushes downstairs to check on noodle and give him some much needed tlc.

He’s good at keeping himself busy with the packmates too, helping clean them up, checking Koo's cock cage (not really necessary, but it's fun to watch the omega squirm). He wipes Namjoon's cum out of Jin and Yoongi's hair. Every gross and mildly satisfying task is a decent distraction from your predicament.

Hobi's doing a good job of not making this weird.

A really really good job.

...

That's a dirty rotten lie. Hobi is a piss poor liar. Even in the confines of his own head lying to himself never works.

His sanity is hanging on by a flimsy little thread that is sure to snap if he hears you begging for your alpha again. Or if he sees you belly down, or if you even think about trying to fluff the nest and make it perfect for Namjoon to breed you. If you even glance in his direction. Any of it.

And Jesus Christ, the sounds you make when he's knotting you.

Cute little 'ah ah ah's and squeaks when namjoon shoves his cock in all the way, Petting over your stomach and giggling “Can feel alpha knocking me up.” Omega space dumb and knotted stupid and cute and pretty in the way that-

Hobi’s getting distracted. It’s just the rut pheromones talking.

He's not above putting his headphone in, but the second he thinks of it, he knows he can't. His alpha howls and claws at his chest as is. Begging Hobi to keep watch and do something awful like hold you while Namjoon fucks you or worse- cuddle you from behind when you sleep. Or do something even more embarrassing like try and kiss your forehead and tell you you’re doing a good job.

Everything Hobi's instincts want is absolutely ridiculous.

Namjoon and Jin might fight each other during Namjoon’s rut, but Hobi has a harder battle to win.

He settles for making himself useful; he makes sure there are always enough wipes on hand, makes sure everyone's got a change of clean clothes on the edge of the nest.

Makes sure the omegas cups are always no less than half-filled with ice water. lemon for jin, passion fruit flavored pre-workout for jungkook...and iced strawberries instead of ice cubes for you because you like when they get a little mushy.

it's gross really, who the hell like’s thawed frozen fruit? (Hobi’s alpha thinks it’s adorable how you nibble on them, too hard for you to eat directly, a pup teething. Omega’s get orally fixated quite a bit during ruts. all of you do- although with alphas it’s more an urge to bite.)

Hobi's alpha is pacing the confines of his head, watching, waiting for his turn to be let out. A few knot cycles ago Jin noticed how on edge he’d been acting; never staying stationary, pacing the non-proverbial edge of the pack territory. searching for intruders.

Never one to leave any of his alphas untended- Jin had Jimin retrieve the pack's collars from the other room. Now, Hobi's red collar sits latched at its loosest setting around his throat. It does help settle him, but being settled makes him even less sure of his emotions.

But Jimin didn't just get Hobi's collar, but yours and Jungkook's too.

And now that fucking bell rings every time Namjoon pushes you up and down the nest and hobi's Knot just doesn't understand that Pavlovian ticks don't just spontaneously arise without copious training.

(Yoongi unlatches the bell when it's time for everyone to sleep with a sorry look in Hobi's direction. Is he being that obvious? Is he making either of you uncomfortable? Tae catches him biting his cheek at one point, and tugs on the loose collar until Hobi unclenches his jaw. "good puppy."

He should do more. Get up and get you and Jungkook something more substantial. Protein shakes? Yes. That’s perfect.

You watch Jin and Namjoon fight. There's a little bit of blood on Jin’s teeth when he snarls back, his own fault after he banged his mouth on Namjoon’s shoulder by lunging at the alpha. The taste of it on their kisses, messy and purely brutal- only does more to excite the two of them.

“You think I’m going to bed over for a knot as pitiful as yours? Fucking joke of an alpha won’t even fuck me proper-”

Namjoon yanks Jin back by his hips, pushing him down. The slick sheets of the nest don’t give the omega much to grab onto even less when Namjoon sheathes his cock inside the omega’s hole in one brutal thrust and None of his usual slow-deep gentleness.

Jin squeaks, more of an undignified yell. But the way his cock weeps against his stomach tells all of you that really, Jin's enjoying it.

Jin rakes his nails down Namjoon's back leaving long red lines as the alpha begins to fuck him, apparently not too tired to fight but willing enough to make the alpha work for it. Namjoon’s hand closes around Jin’s cock, fucking him up from both sides. The omega's pleasure tastes amazing when Namjoon laps at his throat, all milky and orgasam-sweet on his tongue. Jin's pleasure tastes like victory like winning something vital.

Namjoon always has to earn it when it comes to Jin.

“Say it again- say it,” Namjoon makes to nip at Jin’s throat and the omega weakly swats him away. “Tell me again how this knot that’s splitting you open is pitiful, huh? Can’t even manage it? is something distracting you?”

Jin rightfully chokes on his next words. Surrendering to the waves of rut as Namjoon starts fucking him in earnest.

You and Jungkook share a look, faintly blushing at the dirty talk. sipping at your protein shakes. Yours is strawberry. His chocolate.

(Hobi might have added a little bit of sweetener to yours. you need to keep your strength up a little right? you’re not quite as durable as jin and jungkook. Are you too tired? Should he protect you from your mean and nasty alpha, shouldn't he?

There’s only one mark that you don’t wear and that’s hobi’s, even Jungkook had sucked a small bruise onto the skin of your behind, and it pokes out every now and then when you shift your arms above your head.

That little fucker even made it the shape of a heart.)

One second, they’re nipping at each other’s throats and the next Namjoon’s waxing poetic about knocking Jin up with his pups. Jin's equally as teary-eyed, grabbing at Namjoon's face and pulling him closer for a messy kiss.

The others don’t seem quite as worried about it as you are, taking a few moments to fluff the nest and remove the absolutely ruined blankets while the pack omega and alpha are lost in each other. Readying the nest for bed. One night down, probably one or two more to go.

You get a chance to ask Yoongi about it later when Namjoon’s sleepily mouthing at the nape of Jin’s neck. Yoongi quietly explains the fighting. Curled on his side, elbows brushing your elbows. Willing for you to run your fingers through his hair.

You’ve been doing it a lot recently but maybe it’s just your grooming instincts. You’ve yet to figure out if you have those like Jin. But the gentle tugging against his scalp is nice. Nicer when he tucks his face down and lets you play with all of it. Yoongi’s hair has grown out a little, dark roots and chestnut red ends. falling a little past his shoulders.

(From the other side of the nest, Hobi watches, feeling oddly touch starved but determined to get some sleep. Jimin falls asleep next to him with his fingers hooked in the loose collar. An anchor against the thoughts that you should be grooming him like that)

"One of these days they’re going to mate during a cycle” your mate admits, worry leaking into his every syllable. “They hold off each time but every cycle it gets a little bit harder. Each cycle they get a bit more violent.”

“Oh?” You pull yourself up on unsteady hands. That doesn’t surprise you one bit. The pack omega and pack alpha have always been that. One half of a matching set. Fated.

“Why don’t they just do it then, if they both want it?”

You’d always thought that if they were to mate it would be more ceremonial, With little suits and some sort of fanfare. you and tae hashed it out in your daydreams and made a pinterest board for it ages ago. Most people treat mating’s as smaller more private weddings if they’re going to do it at all. Both of them are the type of people to want to make it matter. You tell Yoongi as such and he agrees.

“Jin always says his parents wanted him to do it the traditional way, with hanboks and temples and all that.” You both don’t say that this is also how the family likes to structure their mating too. But the subtext is there. Yoongi pets over your arm absentmindedly.

“Jin doesn’t talk about them a lot.” Yoongi knows what you’re asking.

“He’s got pictures somewhere. They’ve been gone for a long time. He has some family still- a few second cousins across the world, but they’ve never met. If you ask him about it, I’m sure he’ll tell you.” You’re the only family I need, he says when you ask and it’s true.

Different cultures handle packs and pups leaving the nest differently. It’s a bit of a history lesson but based on what you know from historical dramas An omega betrothed to an alpha usually qualifies as ownership of that omega. Jin wouldn’t be considered as part of his own household anyway.

Just like you, once you were married to Geumjae you were automatically a responsibility of Yoongi’s family too. Your own hardly mattered.

You imagine what Namjoon and Jin’s mating might look like in the future if it wasn’t traditional. A nest that Jin would make special, all white blankets wrapped in perfect rings. A nest for Namjoon and Namjoon only. The rest of you waiting on the fringes. Your faces lit by candlelight swaying at the rushes of their scents.

Who would bite who first? Would Namjoon yield or would Jin hand over that responsibility to him? You imagine blood soaking cotton, blood soaking souls. The pack as it should be.

No wonder they fight like they do. If that's what they're both thinking about. What they both want but won't let themselves have yet.

Yoongi nuzzles into the bite marks by your palm, Every inch will be claimed and bitten by the end of the rut.

“Why don’t they just do it already?”

Yoongi shrugs, but the truth is that there isn’t a shortage of answers. It could be because of your relatively recent introduction to the pack or because of Yoongi’s distant absence. Tae’s coming out. All reasons could have been why they thrashed the plans they had in the back of their minds.

There's always a reason not to let yourself have something you're anticipating. It drags out the hope a little longer.

Maybe they just don’t want anyone to feel lonely right now.

You think of your own mating and those first few months of heightened sensitivity; how every time Yoongi had taken a step away from you it had triggered tears and a touch starved ness so gnawing it was maddening. chewing your senses to the bone with how grateing everything seemed. the lights hummed too bright without his touch, and all scents stank if they weren't his chocolate.

Yoongi isn’t an alpha of course, but even he’d been a little too protective of you the few times you’d dared venture out or switch hotels. Constantly putting himself between you and anyone who came too close.

On the other side of the nest, Namjoon is quite literally protecting Jin from nothing with his body. A letteral blanket draped over his backside. Fallen asleep knotted inside the omega.

You know Namjoon will be more sensitive to it. You wonder if you’ll be considered other too. Maybe for the first few days until their instincts settle. But it’s a lot to think about especially when you can still feel Namjoon’s cum wet and messy inside of you.

When you shift, a little of it trickles out. Your hand goes between your thighs, physically stopping more of it from leaking out and onto the nest at the last second.

Yoongi sits up abruptly letting out an alarmed noise "Do you need-” he jumps up quick pants pulling loose a little in his hurry to help you. flashing your mark and a few bruises on his hip.

Namjoon must have gotten mouthy with him earlier, but everyone in the pack is a little bitten. Between waves, he’s content to teeth at you like a puppy would at a toy.

Your nipples rub sensitively against your shirt, Namjoon had loved Tae's suggestion earlier a little too much. You and the other omegas have been bearing the brunt of namjoon’s freshly awakened fixations. Your nipples have gotten puffy and sensitive from all the attention. Jin's small pectorals have bitten rings, purpling already and so does Jungkook and Tae.

Your mate cleans you up with delicate fingers, long and crooked and more than a little arousing even though they're purely mechanical. Every time you clench you force a little more out. His fingers delicately check you each time, mindful of your sensitive squirming. He huffs, but it's put upon.

“so messy, my messy pup” he croons, shushing you when you protest, making you lie back. He sets his hand on the lower part of your stomach. "squeeze for me sweetheart- good" You barely resist the urge to cover your eyes as Yoongi wipes you up ever so slowly.

Folding the cum soaked rag around and tossing it wide, it lands on the wooden floor with a thump. But you guess the whole place was going to need to be deep cleaned anyways.

Kisses go nowhere once he’s finished, curling up together on the edge of the nest until you're too sleepy to continue talking. Sleep comes easy to you until you’re summoned by a heavy hot body settling behind you, lips teasing at the mating mark on your neck and the collar.

At least Namjoon makes no move to detangle you from Yoongi. That’s a definite plus. Yoongi even helps hold your thigh up so the alpha can breed you properly. You fall back asleep mid-way, so sleepy that you decide Namjoon can have what he wants of you. If you cum that's Namjoon and Yoongi's business, not yours.

It's better than fighting it.

~-~

(Tae)

It is an unavoidable reality, that one day you will fuck up with the person you love. Not by malicious intent, but just by virtue of being human.

Having you there during Namjoon’s rut ends up being kind of a blessing. With 3 omegas to cycle through every other hour or so- you have the chance to complete a singular sleep cycle between each time you’re needed.

Jungkook’s the one who jumps up the most, the most eager to be used and tossed and thrown around the nest, happy to be fucked into crying, into squirting. But even he tires eventually. squirming away from Namjoon’s hand loosely bound around his cock cage, lapping at it to taste the omega’s thin spend that leaks from it. Squirming away when the alpha wiggles his way between jungkook’s thighs and asks to see his cumruined hole.

But if the three of you happen to need a little extra time to doze. The pack alpha finds no shortage of distractions.

You’re hazy and so so tired when you wake and glimpse just a little of it, but it’s an image that you won’t soon forget.

Hobi’s bare chest dotted with new pink marks and Namjoon nibbling along his throat. Teeth digging into the leather of his collar clearly frustrated with the amount of skin it covers. Jimin and Tae work in tandem sucking around his knot and making out around it. Kissing around it and moving their mouths up and down. alternating between lapping at the head of his cock and sucking kisses onto his half-formed knot.

Yoongi feeds Namjoon slices of tangerine when he bothers to stop nipping at Hobi’s chest. his movements are jerky like he's unsure what he wants more; Hobi’s skin beneath his teeth, to cum, or some fucking food.

Your eyelashes flutter, and sweat drips down Hobi’s chest, purple rounds dotting his skin. And you settle back, going to sleep because to get horny over it is to interrupt them.

Namjoon’s rut pheromones are designed by biology to make all of you sort of horny. As the first day becomes the second, your other alphas become needier and needier. More affected by the rut stench. You can taste him everywhere, on the back of your teeth, their lips when you kiss them. Rileing all of them up.

Before you, the alphas where needed between cycles to make it easier, but now namjoon reaches for them less. they don’t take it personally but- they need their alpha too. At times its not only Joonie that you help settle.

You’re somewhere in between Jimin and Tae by the following morning. Not fucking either of them because you’re far too sensitive for that, but letting them fuck between your thighs keeps them soothed.

You like it. You like being a vehicle for the pleasure you can smell on the edge of their scents, Jimin’s thick vanilla, and the Rosey cinnamon of Tae’s scent so soothing against your rut raw throat. It feels nice just to have them close like this. Tae's back pressed to yours and Jimin nosing at your front.

Maybe this is the other side of the scale, tipped the other day when Jimin got you off in the nest. You don't really want to get off right now and you don't think you will, but that doesn't mean they can't take what they need from your tired body, you trust them that much.

You’re so wet between your thighs, a mess of slick and cum gathers there that your body just can’t keep inside anymore. Too well fucked and tender to clench closed at all. But your packmates don’t mind the mess at all. In fact, they seem to marvel at it.

Jimin had hooked his fingers in earlier, gentle as he spread you to see,

You’re stretched a little from Namjoon's cock, winking at him as you struggled to clench and keep all his cum inside. Messy and perpetually dripping slick and cum.

Namjoon has never thought to fuck you in your other hole either; no need to waste the pack alpha's cum where it can't breed you. You probably couldn't take him there without training anyway. But his cum drips down and wets your tight pucker steadily.

Jimin can’t resist the temptation to rub his thumb over it, making you squirm.

Jimin had asked if maybe one day, you'd thought you’d be able to take two cocks at once.

Jimin's not above admitting that he's got sort of a thing for sloppy seconds. He likes it when the drag goes sticky with squirt or cum or slick. He likes it messy. When he can feel another alpha's cum around his cock.

The drag is slippery and tight when they’ve got you like this. Jimin’s hands hold your thighs together and keep the drag firm. Little translucent webs of cum stick to his lap when he pulls back and fucks forward, more mess slipping out the more he jostles you.

Namjoon always cums so much when he's in a rut, All alphas do. After knotting you more than half a dozen times your stomach feels tight and trembly. It's worse when his cock pushes you clean of everything, and everything he’s spilled inside previously slides down the length of his knot and pools messy and white.

Just like now, both of their cocks are wet from it. You squirm, trying to pull Jimin's palm away when he presses down on your stomach. thumbs digging into your pubic bone. He soothes you, lips plush and bitten pink and puffy. Fuck, he wants to clean you up. Can’t find a way to ask politely. he needs to get his mouth on your cumfilled hole before this is over, to feel how greedy Namjoon got.

"Wanna feel what mess Alpha's made of you baby, it's our job to keep you clean, let us-"

You do let them, let their hands wander regardless of the mess. You're so soft, the chub in your thighs moving as Jimin and Tae fuck it, hugging their cocks and knots. Jimin understands why Namjoon's nibbled at your softness so much. The urge to have you under his teeth is palpable.

It’s hard for the other alphas during ruts sometimes, not because any of them feel any particular ownership over the omegas, You don’t know about other packs- but yours isn’t like that.

(At least, you sort of hope Namjoon isn’t going to be like that. It's kinda cute. When you ignore the obvious red flags and all. All the sweetest cakes have added sugar after all. Everything gets a sugarcoat, it’s brutal and sweet to be used by this)

Seeing Namjoon in rut reminds them of what they usually enjoy but can’t have right now. Like a favorite cake made not for your birthday. Sacrifice never felt so sweet, so alluring. Conjuring up images of what Jimin and Tae's ruts might look like. What it would be like to get you between the two of them like this.

If you weren’t so sore already, you might risk it.

Tae’s cock nudges up in between your pussy lips as she fucks into your thighs. Pushing over your sensitive hole and aching little clit. The familiar velvet of Jimin’s cock and knot just below as they fuck between your thighs together. The drag tight and warm.

Tae’s hands are on your chest again. Touching and brushing with abandon and you arch into her touch. Tae has always loved your tits and touched them more than your other alphas. They’re sensitive now from how much Namjoon's bit at them. The cool air soothes where her fingers don't tease. The shirt rucked up to your throat.

The attention makes Jimin pause, huffing warm breaths pressed to your throat. Tae keeps his eye contact as she teases you. It's a challenge and an invitation. Her action's slow like she wants him to join in. Jimin's fingers reach but stutter. Cupping your rib cage but go no further.

Jimin's seen Namjoon do this too. The pack alpha has spent a good portion of his downtime suckling at your chest between rut waves, falling asleep there even. Parted mouth pressed to your sternum.

The pack omega often reaches to pull your shirt down so that you don’t have to sleep so exposed. Taking pains to think of your comfort and Hobi’s. The pack omega keeps Hobi on a short leash, looping his arms around the alpha's waist and dragging him into a cuddle whenever he’s not being fucked. There’s something about Hobi- Jin’s gentlest pup- that’s particularly soothing when Namjoon goes feral.

Now Jimin eyes your chest nervously, even as Tae prompts him. Is this the kind of fuck that Tae's always wanted, to be kissed and cupped and sucked at, to be touched gently like this?

Hasn't he done this?

Tae's hand run's through Jimin's hair and he's a goner. "Won't you help make her sensitive Minnie? I promise she's as sweet as she looks."

Bitten, you look so bitten and so claimed. So theirs. Jimin's so close, so close to painting your thighs milky, to cumming all over you and making a mess of your hole with namjoon. Tae's cock pressed close feels heavy and warm too. The familiar velvet that brushes against him occasionally intoxicating.

But Jimin is nervous, and he hesitates. You keen at the attention, your nipples standing puffy in the cold air, teased further firm with how Tae's touching you. alternating between the slightest pressure and mean tugs. Pulling sweet little mewls from your mouth at the new stimulation.

Tae fucks up and closer, pushing through your heat, moving their position so that she's below jimin and can trap his cock between her and your slick cunt, lips parting so that Jimin can rut up and through you, nudging at your clit.

Fuck- it feels so good. You mewl and Jimin finds it easier to lick into your mouth as opposed to your chest like Tae’s prompting. This close to cumming, he doesn’t think.

(pleasure makes alpha’s so so so dumb.)

It’s crazy that just one word is what does it. “Take it- take it baby” Jimin rests his forehead on your shoulder. He doesn’t see Tae’s flinch at his next words. Doesn't notice that anything's wrong until it's too late.

“Just like you take all of your boys' cocks. Yours yeah? We’re all yours.”

Tae’s pleasure flags so quickly that her hips stop mid-thrust. Her Cock remains trapped between your thighs. Suddenly aware of it, the faint burn there, the faint wrongness, just a little. Jimin keeps fucking your thighs.

Maybe she’s too sensitive because one moment she wants this and the next moment, she needs to detangle herself from you two. To sit back and rationalize that of course female alpha’s have cocks so her’s shouldn’t feel wrong or different. She knows Jimin didn't mean it that way and yet.

She moves back from you gently, Her cock only semi-hard now. Popping free from your thighs and pressing to your ass. Wet and glossy.

All your boy’s cock’s, boy cock, not girl cock. Because Tae is not a girl in the ways that matter, not a girl without the hormones and bi monthly blood tests and effort, Tae doesn’t get this without effort. If she had a cock sheath like female alphas it would be easier. She could tuck her cock away and forget it even existed. Maybe she could pretend to be a female omega like you and never let anyone touch it at all.

Being a girl always feels a bit like playing pretend especially when the dysphoria rages with hungry hungry jaws. Begging for Tae’s blood or her heart in it’s mouth.

It’s crazy how it’s just that that does it.

Jimin’s face flashes up like he’s realized what he said and how wrong it was. As Tae scrambles away from both of you in the nest, it’s Minnie who moves after her. You flop down onto the blankets suddenly cold. You’re left alone, a pretty heap at the edge.

You let out a chirp of surprise. To your alphas, there is no sound more grating.

The sound makes Namjoon perk up from the other side of the nest, jerking even though his knot is deep in Jin's hole.

Yoongi pauses. He’s been feeding Jin grapes for the better part of the last half hour. The bowl is mostly empty, with a bit of water at the bottom that spills when Namjoon yanks his cock from Jin’s hole.

You clamp a hand over your mouth but it’s too late. Unhappy packmate, scared packmate. The sound summon's Namjoon like a moth to a flame.

Tae stands on bambi legs. She just needs to get a little bit of air in her lungs, something to make her lungs not feel so tight. Minnie’s not far behind. “Tae I didn’t mean-“ he reaches, arms looking like they’re about to go in for a hug. But She holds up her hands keeping him at arm’s length. Tears wet on her cheeks.

“Minnie. It’s okay, I just- I don’t think I want you to touch me right now, please just- please don’t- just give me a second.”

One of Namjoon’s pretty alpha’s upset would be bad enough, but two is unconscionable. Prompts him to stalk across the nest. Angry pheromones roll off of him in uncontrolled waves.

“Wait Joonie don’t-”

Too late. His fingers dig into the napes of their necks, a rough growl sounding out that says ‘obey’ more than any word. Jimin and Tae fall under Namjoon’s scruff. Tae’s a little less able to keep herself out of Namjoon’s grasp clinging to his arm that goes around her waist, keeping her standing.

“Good pups. Don’t startle omega.” Namjoon's voice is gravel incarnate. His alpha strength works double-time as he holds them up. You let out another alarmed squeak as Namjoon places both of them back at your side.

See omega, I’ve got pretty alphas for you. They can protect you too. See how much I provide? Is it enough for pups?

Namjoon scruffs them stupid them first with his hands and then with his teeth. Tae's spaghetti strap falls down. And she blinks languidly.

“Mine, my omega” he growls, lapping messy licks against the nape of Jimin’s neck. Red and inflamed from the scruff. “Not yours. Mine. Be good.”

Jimin and Tae will talk about it later and will agree to leave what happened in the rut just that- words that were spoken in the heat of the moment. That's all, right? just a temporary slip-up, right?

For now, they’re obedient.

These two alphas have not bred you yet, and Namjoon must remedy that immediately. He pulls you to your feet the second they’ve both settled in a heap. It’s the only time that he has you on your feet. The other pups watch on their knees, eye level with your cunt as he fucks you.

Tae keeps her distance from Jimin for the rest of the rut.

~-~

(Mine)

That’s not the last time Namjoon acts possessively with you, far from it.

His claim on you is always there. Regardless of Yoongi. Regardless of the mating marks.

It's there as fuck you back on his cock, holding your ankles in his hands keeping you from pushing yourself on his knot. All exposed like this, bare in the nest.

You're just glad that Hobi's is asleep, that he's learned to sleep through the fucking. You find yourself looking over at him all too often. His redhead buried in the covers, his shoulders rising and falling. But each time Namjoon catches your gaze straying he fucks you harder, a little deeper. Pressing into that spot that has you gasping. Knuckles pressed to your lips to keep from making too much noise and waking everyone. Wet cunt grinding out another orgasm on his knot.

Namjoon looks possessed by some demon- mouth running rabid when he’s not knot dumb. The others warned you that the worst parts of Namjoon's rut are at the end, but you expected him to stay less vocal. Having him talk is almost worse. If this isn't the end, you wonder how much worse he's going to get.

“Gonna knock you up. Gonna fuck you so good and deep that everyone knows you’re mine, gonna make it stick, gonna ruin you for everyone else. Mine. You’re mine."

Sweat drips down his nose, panting heavily, licking at his canines every few breaths like he’s soothing an ache. Eyes crazed, an alpha mad with lust. "I wanna hear you say it pup. Tell everyone how good my knot is. How good it fills you up. How much you don't want theirs now that you've got mine. You're mine.”

“////Yours” you sob and Namjoon fucks into you, putting both your ankles in one of his hands so that he can cup the bulge in your stomach, the feeling of him knocking you up. He presses you down, folding you in half in a way that will surely hurt later but only makes the pleasure burn now. His other hand goes to your throat, cupping it weekly all to feel your thundering pulse. The scar tissue there rough against his fingers.

“This mark means nothing. You’re mine.” He snarls.

Namjoon pushes you belly down on the nest when his knot pops. Making you cum again. Tongue lapping at the sweat between your shoulders, holding your wrists like you’d ever be able to squirm away, body pinning yours.

Yoongi is not hurt like you might think when he hands you over an icepack to sit on later and swats at Namjoon nosing at the beta’s hip and mouthing over the mark. He’s a little more lucid so close to the source of Yoongi’s scent. A little less threatened and a little more in love with the idea of you being bound together by the soul.

You think he might be thinking about him and Jin, but you're not sure. Asking him right now would be pointless; he’d probably just use the question as an opportunity to talk about pups.

“You little shit- is the fact that we’re both helping you not enough?” Months ago the comment would have left you on edge, but you’re used to their sometimes-biting banter now.

Namjoon just grumbles and tucks his face under the hem of Yoongi's shirt to hide from the morning sunshine.

~-~

(Bloody)

You don’t mind being bitten by Namjoon. There’s something sweet about it the first few times he gets a little teethy. Nibbling at your neck, your throat. But eventually, he does start to use his teeth in rather unfortunate ways.

Namjoon eats you out a handful of times over the course of his rut. You never expected your slick to tame your alpha entirely but you’re easily proven wrong. You've kept off from using it to your advantage mostly because you and Jin had feared close to the end you'd need it. Your secret weapon.

The first time, it’s because Jungkook’s close to passing out.

The line between asleep and awake, conscious and not- matters little when it comes to the waves of Namjoon's rut. Whatever Namjoon needs he can take, at whatever time he needs. That’s the way the pack functions. You knew what you where signing up for when you agreed to this.

You all try and sleep in between when you can. You find you often fell asleep immediately after, still knotted to him. Lulled into restfulness by Namjoon’s tongue laving at your throat, soothing the marks almost apologetically. You're usually unaware when he pulls himself free of you, easily transferred into the waiting arms of packmates to help clean you up. Gently manhandling your body like a stringless marionette.

He rarely lingers longer than that, and barely even sleeps himself. There is always Jin or Jungkook beckoning him coyly with open thighs and slick-soaked holes, even the other alphas begging prettily. Or Yoongi who pushes at Namjoon's shoulders in a way that riles him up and makes him need to claim, to put the beta in his place. Namjoon’s instinct to claim and breed pulled in seven different ways.

When you wake next, it's to the sound of soft sobs and choked moans. a faithfulness, and you know you must have been knoted in the last hour, you think you might have dreamed it, but the tell tale ache between your legs says otherwise. you lie on your belly, your omega prompting you to roll onto your back and show everyone your belly.

but then, why is someone crying?

Your eyelashes flutter, face resting against Tae’s soft stomach, rising softly in sleep (you might have pulled yourself over to comfort her, unable to entirely forget the smell of her sadness) still fussy and upset about what happened earlier.

Jungkook is being pulled back and forth on Namjoon’s half-inflated knot. So big. Too big to be going in and out of Jungkook’s hole like that. It’s Angry red, sensitive skin that flashes as the omega sobs. Someone must have finally taken off his cock cage because his little cock leaks freely, untended, and pink looking. Cumming harder as a result. Too hard and too much.

The waves are coming about every hour or so and even though Jungkook can take it the sound of his wailing is startling. You’re not the only one who thinks so. Something bad must have just happened because when you open your eyes again Namjoon's still growling and Hobi’s holding his hands where he can see them.

Maybe Namjoon’s misaligned rut brain viewed Hobi holding Jungkook up as a challenge. Another alpha trying to take away the hot pressure around Namjoon’s knot. Something Namjoon’s instincts do not allow is a threat of any kind.

Namjoon will bitch Hobi into submission if he feels he needs to. He probably will need to before this rut is over. Namjoon will remind Hobi what a proper alpha’s knot feels like. It’s his job to teach his pups how to fuck and breed.

Namjoon gnashes his teeth and Hobi does a good job of not looking too scolded. But you see the metaphorical ears pinned to the side of his head. His alpha curling around his tail. Namjoon holds Jungkook's chest curving protectively over Jungkook's back. Lips lifted off his teeth. The omega's eyes wet and glassy, rolling back.

You don't like it. Hobi looks so sad when Namjoon growls at him. You know he won't take it personally. But still.

Jungkook sags forward and sobs. He can feel the alpha all the way in his throat. Small cock leaking steadily and messy onto the nest below him. A pretty picture but a devastating one. You can tell by the way he sobs and hiccups that he really is going to pass out if you don’t do something.

You get up on trembling knees and Hobi tries again. “Joonie, you need to slow down.” his voice is low and honeyed, gentle but Namjoon’s not there- not really. The rut haze all red tinged and feral. Namjoon’s about to snap at him when you interrupt.

“Alpha?” Their heads snap in your direction.

You've never joined in while Hobi helped but the nest is empty of everyone but Jin, fast asleep. The rest of the pack are talking in the kitchen, over the high walls of the nest, and you know Hobi can't do this alone. He can't do this without you.

“Alpha- I’m all messy,” you say, bringing your fingers in between your legs, gathering the slick and cum there until your fingers are sticky. Webs of it cling to your fingers when you bring your fingers up and show him.

Thank God for the water-resistant blankets below. You don’t miss Hobi’s flush, the way his eyes go to your fingers too. Gulping, eyes dart from you to Namjoon and back again. The sudden shaky breath that careens through him roughly. The sight triggers the sweetening of not only Namjoon's coffee scent but of Hobi's caramel too.

(It's safe to say Namjoon's rut pheromones have you all fucked up)

Namjoon stops dragging Jungkook back on his half-formed knot, letting it rest inside. Namjoon’s gaze trains on your fingers. Pupils dilated and dark, empty pools of instinct that reflect your face and the glimmer of white cum on your fingers. Him, it's him that did that. Bred you messy.

But you turn to Hobi and hold out your hand.

He’s fighting the flush but you know from the quirk of his lips that he realizes you're only doing it to taunt Namjoon. Does sexual intent matter if you're just going through the motions?

You bare your cum soaked fingers to Hobi, trying to be brave, ignoring Namjoon. “Can you help clean me up alpha?”

Namjoon snarls.

He yanks his half-formed knot out of Jungkook who collapses forward. Jolting up to beat Hobi to your fingers (although the other alpha does not actually try to get to you before Namjoon).

You hold them out of the way, struggling not to flinch as he quite literally crouches over you. Teeth snapping in your face as he reaches for them clumsily. Flailing a little.

As if on queue- Jungkook lets out a heartbreaking chirp.

Namjoon freezes. You think you might watch Namjoon’s heart drop into his stomach, caught like a fly in a spider’s web. At war with what he wants. Either your fingers and your slick or Jungkook. He can’t have both.

Jin yawns, rolling onto his belly so that he can reach Namjoon's ankle, tugging at it roused from your squabbling. “Lie back alpha- let both of your omegas have you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them would you?”

Jungkook gets his breath back, whipping his hair off of his forehead. And he’s just about to fall when Hobi catches him, arms straining, letting out little mumble grumbles that he's alright just tired. Namjoon's glare goes back to Hobi, cautious and unsure. Hobi tips his head to the side, bearing his throat in a display of submission that adequately dulls the edge of Namjoon's instincts.

“Let me help our omegas alpha. You taught me so well, let me help you breed them.”

You swallow.

Our omegas. Breed them.

But It’s just the rut talking, isn’t it?

Being on his back makes Namjoon feel too prone, too vulnerable. But the horny side of his brain wins out over his protective side as Jungkook returns between his legs. At this angle it’s harder for Namjoon to fuck up into Jungkook and therefore easier for the other omega to set a gentler pace. Working the knot slowly inside his hole as opposed to the brutal jackhammering before.

You cringe internally, but Namjoon’s fixated on your hand as he lies back. Made a puppy when offered the reward. You don't think you've seen his dimples for a day or two. The sight of them eases that last little bit of you that's unsure that this will work.

At this point, you think you might just want your Joonie back. You’re willing to do anything to make this rut end as quick as possible.

If your slick helps that happen, you'll do it. No matter how sensitive you are and how sensitive you might get. They've kept mostly away from your clit until now but you've still cum more in the last 48 hours than you have in your entire life.

There’s a little bit of cum on the edge of your shirt. Someone must have dressed you after the last round and not been careful. It grates against Hobi. You shouldn't be the one to help with this. There are others.

When Hobi looks over for the rest of the pack he finds Tae holding Yoongi by the shoulder, holding him back while she eats strawberries slowly. Jimin glances between them, at you and Namjoon. But Tae just juts her throat at him in a challenge. As if to say, 'You can handle it, can you?' Tae keeps both of them from helping you.

Maybe they’re just talking about what happened earlier. Deciding to just let it be and not talk it through. Occasional slip-ups are expected after all. And any displeasing conversations would surely prompt Namjoon to scruff them both again.

You watch Hobi gulp, and you don’t let yourself look down at his crotch to see if your suspicions are true. Namjoon’s lying back and waiting for you to shuffle over him. You're brought back to the matter at hand by a growl.

Even if they came over, you're not sure they could help.

Namjoon’s been in the throes of the rut for nearly 24 hours. Only 36 left to go. Probably, if your slick doesn't quicken it up.

Ever so slowly you bring your fingers to his lips. Namjoon’s tongue is messy and hungry like your slick is ambrosia and honey. He nibbles at the pads of your fingers, your palm, everywhere until you’re licked clean. Needy growls for more once all trace is gone. His brain goes quiet and less feral for the first time since the rut started. More, he needs more.

You shuffle forward, hiking up the hem of your shirt so that when Namjoon chases your fingers his eyes fix on a more worthy prize.

There's a little bit of his cum, a single milky drop of it, leaking down your thigh.

Jungkook yelps when Namjoon pushes himself further up in the nest, jostled by his sudden movements, but it’s you yelps when Namjoon pulls you down by the hips onto his mouth.

Namjoon’s licks against your cunt are hot and greedy, almost a little teethy. You think you could be forgiven for letting out an undignified squeal as he sucks on your hole with little warning. His tongue touches places you didn’t know it could arching and licking up. You have no time to consider if it's gross or not as he laps at your cum fucked hole. Something about it is primal. Namjoon’s the one who made you mess and the one who cleans you.

His fingers rub lazily over your hole as if to coax more slick out (like you’re not already dripping) lapping up what leaks like a man starved.

His body goes slack, scent mellowing out from crashing waves of coffee to ebbing ripples of smooth want. Jungkook sighs. Offered a brief reprieve as Namjoon’s hips stop rocking entirely. Jungkook starts up again after a breath, moving his hips in small circles, deep but not quite as fast. Milking namjoon’s knot.

He can only handle his sensitive prostate being stimulated for so many hours before it starts to go a little unpleasant.

You’re going to have bruises on your hips from how hard he holds you down on his mouth. Forcefully grinding your pussy onto his nose, his face, his tongue. All in an effort to get you closer. To get more of your slick inside. Namjoon can taste the hot heady almost metallic taste of his own cum, the heat of you addictive.

You clench and force a bit more of it out, and his knot pops, near instant, making Jungkook wince as it swells hot and full. Namjoon purrs at the taste of you; he'd be happy staying right here for the rest of his rut. Nuzzling into your pussy and breeding jungkook full.

You can do little more than moan and take it. Leaning forward, balancing your hands on Namjoon’s stomach trying not to rest your full weight on Namjoon's face (the alpha has other ideas and yanks you cleanly back over his face.).

Your hands rest right over Jungkook’s. Holding his shakily. You're face-to-face with him like this as he twitches through Namjoon knotting, the feeling of being steadily pumped full of Namjoon's cum. His face is sweaty and his hair's a little greasy but no less beautiful as his lips part is a quiet moan. Both of you are a mirror image of debauchery.

The stretch of the knot is slightly painful, but it grounds him. Pain and pleasure have always been one side of the same coin for Jungkook.

He leans forward, cheeks pink and eyelashes fluttering. He cups his own sensitive cock almost as an afterthought. Cumming is painful but he still wants it. Wants to feel the intimacy of cumming when you do. Together. (Jungkook's a bit of a sap like that) His thighs are straining. His abdominal muscles twitching.

Namjoon's biceps flex as he holds you down, and Jungkook watches, whimpering and looking as unsteady as a sapling in a summer storm. You can't even pull an inch off his face, no matter how hard you try.

Luckily, Hobi is there to hold around Jungkook's waist and keep him upright. There's no chance he'd be able to move to a more comfortable position. At least not until Namjoon's knot has gone down or he's done with you. Whichever comes first. Jungkook doubts Joon will stop anytime soon.

You moan loud, Namjoon’s lips mouthing endlessly at your clit, his licks inarticulate and not the usual careful rhythm- too feral, too much slick and saliva. Hobi stiffens as Namjoon moans, low and throaty.

Your cheeks are flushed, lips parted, and panting when you look up at him. Hobi can’t ignore the tingling in his gut, your shirt does little to conceal what’s happening and he can’t help to watch Namjoon lick. Pussy dumb pup lost in the taste of you, tongue laving over the little lump of your clit like he's playing with it.

You're a little chubby down there, Hobi didn't expect it. Your lips are glossy and puffy pink. Does every inch of you have to be cute?

Your cheeks are flushed. Your words almost slurry, sensing Hobi's spiking thickness, the anger- it has to be anger right? What's making him smell so musky and potent. Pushing out the scent of Namjoon a little even. Goey caramel burning in your nose.

“it’s okay- it’s okay Hobi I’m not- it’s okay-“ I’m not going to get any ideas if you get turned on by this, it’s just your body- it’s not consent. I’m not going to think you want me if you get hard. “I’m only going to touch Namjoon- if that’s what you-“

Your gasp presses against Jungkook's chest, the omega shifting closer to you. Teeth itching for a bite, for something to hold onto as your peek barrels towards you.

Jungkook's pectoral against your face as namjoon rocks you into a gentle grind. Hobi’s hand splays protectively along Jungkook’s hip. And you can’t look at him, you can’t look at him or else everything will be fucked.

“Good alpha” Jungkook remembers to praise, oblivious to the uneasy closeness you have with Hobi. His hands are there, just there inches away and you know how they feel, how soothing and rough his touch can be sometimes. They might brush your shirt a little when they grip around Jungkook’s waist. Not your skin but just where the fabric hangs.

Does it feel warmer when it falls back against your sternum? Or is it just your imagination.

This is the closest to anything sexual you’ve ever gotten but not the most intimate you’ve ever been with Hobi. What is barer and more dangerous? To trust someone or to fuck them? What makes you feel more vulnerable?

He watches as you stiffen up, spine arching, sweat beading at your brow that he finds himself wanting to brush away. You’re moaning, cumming over Namjoon’s mouth. Dripping on his chest, around his throat.

If this were different, Hobi would get you a cool cloth, clean your face and feed you little bits of cold fruit. Everything, everything is so so hot right now. sweat slips over his brow, yours too.

Jungkook grinds deep on Namjoon’s cock, his knot too inflated to pull out still, also grinding back against Hobi’s hardness. He’s fully hard, not even half hard as he watches. Although Hobi’s arousal is the least important one here.

Your lips part and you jerk. Oversensitive as Namjoon sucks on your clit. Hair falling over your shoulders, a bit of it stuck to your bitten and kissed lips that hobi wishes he could tuck behind your ear.

He does, slowly and carefully, hands shaking all the while.

You start to lean, and Hobi grabs you, holding you and keeping you from falling anymore. But the relief of being touched is only temporary because no sooner has he reached out is he snatching his hands back.

He gets up and out of the nest. Mechanical, his body panicking without noise, without words, without sound. You let out a choked sound that sounds an awful lot like his name.

Blunt cute omega teeth dipping into your scent glad as Jungkook bites you for something to hold onto as he climbs that high peak and crashes down. Cumming seconds before you. Cock spurting clear omegan spend messy all over your stomach and Namjoon’s chest.

Namjoon growls at Hobi’s sudden disappearance, but he quite literally has too much on his hands to do much about it. Even as the sour scent of his packmates itches like something horrible down his spine. Pleasure first. Settling an unsettled pup second.

He's only emboldened by the fresh rush of slick, hands sliding up to hold you open, to press up and suck. Namjoon's long fingers hook over your thighs but his thumbs hold you apart and bare for him

And then he hooks his thumbs inside your hole and pulls.

You didn’t even know you could squirt like this- hot and greedy over Namjoon’s face. overstimulated pussy spasming.

Namjoon loves it. Slick drunk and completely gone.

The real issue comes when you try to pull off again, "Wait- fuck- please-" Namjoon scent sours, and one pup moving away from him he can handle, two is too much. The growl is loud and feral- not a growl of pleasure. A warning.

On the edge of the room, intent on going downstairs to where noodle is and the scent of you won't be so thick. Hobi glances back, alarmed. Your alpha is having none of it, he turns his face and bites the nearest inch of flesh to keep you still.

He bites hard.

Pain. Not the good kind that lights down your thigh. You yelp. It sounds different, not pleasure filled or chased with a moan. For how fucked out everyone is the pack descends on the three of you faster than you can blink, quicker than Namjoon can take his teeth out of your thigh and lick the mark to soothe it.

You think he might actually have broken skin for a second.

Hobi instantly reverses direction. Almost tripping over the edge of the nest in his eagerness to get back to you. “Fucking shit Joonie- what the fuck are you fucking doing-“

Yoongi jerks you off of Namjoon quicker than you can tell him that you’re alright. Jin yanks Namjoon up by the scruff of his neck and shakes him a little. Tugging Jungkook with him, wincing at his tender hole still stuck on Namjoon's knot. The alpha sags under the pull of Jin's fingers and his angry scent; acidic and stinky wet puppy.

“Bad alpha! Bad!” Jin scolds, pinching Namjoon’s slick cheeks and hissing, leaning over him. Jimin surges forward to hold Namjoon down.“You know better- you do not get to bite my omega like that” Namjoon’s eyes go cross-eyed trying to keep his eyes on Jin as he leans over and growls, "I think you need a reminder of who you belong to pup.”

Jungkook groans, and you know from the way that he goes still that Namjoon must have just…cum a little bit more. Tae is close, hand soothing on your knee as Yoongi frantically still holds you, dragging you to a clean side of the nest. Away from Namjoon to look at the bite mark.

“Let me see baby, show us- oh- fucking hell. I’m gonna kill him.”

Namjoon got so close to breaking the skin. There’s not any blood, but it still might scab. You get gentle kisses to it, and a bit of cream to soothe it too, a big band-aid covering your inner thigh, and more than a few apologies on Namjoon’s behalf.

That’s what makes Jin get Namjoon's collar. The pack alpha isn’t happy about the metallic jingle that follows him. Like a tom cat made kitten-lethal by a bell around his throat. The end of the collar gets hooked around Jin’s wrist and stays there for the remainder of his rut.

His punishment is a brief and brutal affair, one that you experience only in the distance, face tucked into Yoongi's shoulder, Jungkook and Tae curled around you. The sound of Namjoon howling and skin smacking skin behind you until it's not. Jimin and Hobi have to hold him down.

“Namjoon’s going to be so mad at himself.” Jungkook will say to you later, watching the pack alpha snore. “He gets mouthy sure- but never ///that bad.”

You all know what it was that made Namjoon react that way but none of you broach the topic of you and Hobi and your dynamic. When Namjoon’s done being punished Jimin folds him close, scent marking him soft over the top of his head. You nudge your mate and feel a little bit better when Yoongi goes to him too.

Later when Namjoon wakes, the sadness and shame make him lucid.

“I’m sorry-“ he hiccups, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Crying over the spread of breakfast, lap covered with a blanket to keep him decent. shaking with quiet sobs, “I said- I said I wouldn’t hurt you and I did and now you’re leaving. M' bad alpha."

“There you are Joonie!” you tease, trying to stay positive but failing a little. Your scent is still a little meek, a little muted, and it makes Namjoon want to cry even more. He knows it's really only his fault for not having his wolf on a better leash. The cool metal around his neck does wonders to calm the fire.

You aren't going anywhere but he keeps crying no matter how many times you say so. Cuddling closer to him, rubbing your cheek stubbornly over his arm. Namjoon reaches for you and then jerks back like he’s afraid of his hands. You ask him to feed you and he does, sniffling every few bites. But Namjoon will feed you for as long as you let him, will do only this if that's all that you allow. It’s a good distraction.

You're no stranger to being treated roughly. Maybe you're a little upset but your trembling sour scent is soothed by the presence of your pack.

Namjoon would never submit to you outside of a rut, but Jin keeps him on a tight mental and physical leash. Soothing him carefully with a hand in his hair when he gets mouthy again and the rut eventually re-peaks. He's gotten Namjoon's muzzle and left it on the rim of the nest. A warning. “If you want to taste her or any of us, it will be through this."

You stay close until Namjoon’s calmed until his tears have w-rn themselves out, and you think you might be on the downside of the rut. The next time he knots you, it’s obediently at Jin’s discretion. Jin hooks his fingers into the chain and pulls Namjoon back and forth. Keeping the pace. gentle enough that you just barely cum from it.

When you look over, Hobi’s turned away from you. But his chest is rising rapidly, he’s not sleeping. Not yet.

Hobi doesn’t try to leave the nest again, and neither do you.

~-~

(Worth)

When you wake, it’s to the sound of tense voices.

“-Why didn’t you step in? She needed you. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just-” Feeling abandoned isn’t something Hobi tolerates well. The idea of you feeling abandoned is even less easy.

Tae just pushes off the edge of the couch, standing, keeping her voice low so that it doesn’t wake the rest of you. You do not turn to see her lean down to cup his cheek. To see the almost apologetic touch.

“I didn’t because I knew it would make you angry.”

Hobi blows air through his teeth, scent souring, resisting the urge to tell Tae to fuck off. Her smile is a little sad and a little knowing. Searching his face for something she finds.

Tae's thumb rubs up and down his cheek.

“I know you’re not angry for yourself, you’re angry for her, aren’t you?” Tae’s fingers rub against Hobi’s scent gland. Part of him wants to pull away from the touch. “Do you know why you feel angry? Do you know the surprise yet? Do you know how much you care for her or are you determined to avoid it until it causes more problems?”

Your eyelashes flutter, and you try and stay awake to hear the rest. Try too- but you’re so so tired.

Don't spoil the surprise.

Part of Hobi wants to snap at Tae and tell her that she has no ground to stand on when it comes to problems, like she and Jimin have barely touched in the last 24 hours, haven’t touched much at all since Jimin slipped up. But he doesn’t. He won’t hurt her that way.

There is a reason why Jimin kills every one of their plant collection, why he’s not allowed near the watering can. He gives them so much water they drown. Sometimes, Hobi is worried he's got the same attitude when it comes to love. that the whole pack does, That Tae has learned it too.

Tae continues when it becomes clear that Hobi won’t. “The truth is I think it could be worth it. I think her love is worth it Hobi and I know Your love is worth it too.” Tae’s eyes are full of stars that don’t exist, shooting ones and planets all in alignment. “If It was your rut right now, she’d- ”

Hobi pulls his face out of her hand and turns around. Effectively ending the conversation. Tae sighs and leaves him be.

When you open your eyes, you find Namjoon awake and staring at you. You put a finger to your lips.

He doesn’t make a single sound, even though you know he heard her words and Hobi’s response. He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling into your cheek. Fingers closing around the nape of your neck, scruffing you until you sigh and fall back asleep.

~-~

(Ease)

Waves of rut aren’t always sexual. Sometimes the waves manifest in a gnawing more important need, a touch-starved franticness to have you all close and safe. And Namjoon's needy hands pull you all on top of him into one big puppy pile.

The mess of the blankets has gotten truly gross and the blankets need to be switched out. The pack didn’t account for quite how much you squirt. Someone made a run to the basement to put some of them through a wash cycle. The feeling of clean sheets is so luxurious it has you all belly up and sleepy.

God, you can’t wait to feel clean.

the other omegas seem to think so too, all lumped together around namjoon, kissing and licking and grooming each other. Brooding instincts make your bodies warm heavy with the need to stay close, to stay still and let namjoon’s seed take.

the idea that all three of you might be knocked up makes namjoon pur, watching the three of you share kisses over his prone body, has his cock stirring in interest. but you’re just focoused on licking into each others mouths because honestly- you miss Jungkook and Jin a little.

Cleaning up the nest and grooming and nesting with each other is going to feel so good once this is over. Jin might even sneak into his and namjoon’s special Little secret supply of courting gifts just to give you and jungkook some fresh joy.

“Did i do a good job omega, am I being good for alpha?”

Jin has never purred harder, “of course you are baby, my good pup.”

Namjoon comforting rumbles are the antithesis of his earlier growls. An alpha purr if ever there was one, cautious and hopeful. His waves are coming less quick now, more gentle. A half hour between the spikes instead of just ten or so minutes.

“Gonna make a nest for pups?” he asks, almost shy, nosing at Jin gently. The omega has pushed away his attempts to feed him 3 times. Namjoon’s ego would be in tatters if it weren’t for you and Jungkook still accepting little mouthfuls. The bowls of fruit never seem to empty, figs and sweet chocolate-covered nuts, fat chunks of apple, and round glossy blueberries that you lick meekly from Namjoon’s fingers.

“Yes you big puppy, for pups,” Jin says, because he knows it will set Namjoon into that puppy purry grumbly alpha space version of himself that truly is gentle.

During these moments, Namjoon demands that every available inch of his body be covered with his pack. You end up in a pile. Some of you eating, some of you marking each other, others asleep.

It’s almost less liberating than the horny waves, you’re less mobile when he gets clingy. Namjoon sobs at one point herding Jimin back into the nest panicked that he thought to leave it. Wet face tucked against the nape of the alphas neck. “See alpha? I’m safe- nothing happened to me?”

Sometimes Namjoon's dreams are a tangle of different senses and not all good feelings. A smell acrid in his lungs, the sound of screeching like an animal being murdered at night. Sensations that are a tangle of danger, hidden force plotting the pack's demise. The pack's blood on the air, sharp claws dragging over your skin. The rut nightmares are always hazy, always nondescript cries of pleasure and pain shrouded in darkness.

Only with the pack all around him does his skin stop itching like it's two sizes too small.

It’s better to hold off on sleep, to keep his itchy eyes open so he can verify you’re still all alright. To have each of his packmates under him. Scenting each of you sloppily (and no matter the mess coating him). He cupps the jaws of the alphas to test their teeth. Nuzzling into Tae's hands, Hobi's sternum, and Jimin's shoulders. Setting his head to rest over Yoongi's heart so he can hear the gentle thud thud thud that tells him he's done a fine job really, he only has to wait for the rut to be over now.

Of course he does spend many many minutes Insistently mouthing at the omega's belly buttons. A heavy face plant over Jungkook's, possessive little laps against yours that tickle and make you giggle, and sleepy nuzzles against Jin’s with starry eyes.

(Namjoon likes these moments a lot lot more than the sexual ones.)

~-~

(Drip)

The next time the pack let Namjoon taste you they’re a lot more careful not to let him get slick drunk. The next time you wake up to it.

You're on your tummy, comfortable, and woken from a mid-morning nap. Namjoon's rut will be done by today probably, in the night maybe. Until then he wears the collar and muzzle. The metal wiring and a locking clasp on the back is so complex that Namjoon’s rut clumsy fingers can’t figure it out.

You’re first aware of the rubbing, something metal moving over your cunt making you clench up in interest. And Jin’s voice soothing needy whimpers that come from somewhere. "There you go Jooine, gentle like that. She's slicking up already! Good puppy!" The words are vaguely demeaning, sweet mean in the way that Jin gets sometimes.

The sound of the chain Jingles, but it feels good, whatever's happening between your legs feels so good you could have probably cum from it and not even woken up.

Collars for puppies, chains for wolves.

Your cheek rests against a warm inner thigh. Cinnamon, and roses. You nuzzle into the scent, soft skin pillowy under your cheek. Slack lips parting in pleasure, eyelashes fluttering looking up.

Trust Tae to look cute during a rut cycle. The nightdress she wears is comfy and dotted with little floral roses, it’s bunched up a little where your hand has fisted in the fabric on her hip. She coos down at you while Namjoon pulls your hips into a gentle rocking. Lying on your side, comfortably reclining, and doing none of the work to get off.

She cups your cheek, waking you up a little. Her smile is a little sharp-edged, arousal making her mean like Jinnie, "Go on baby, look at how good your mate is being for alpha," Hardness nudges at the front of her skirt and it has to be from what’s going on around you. Tae guides you with a hand cupping your jaw, making you look.

Namjoon's upper body turned so that he can get at your cunt but his hips remain firmly pinned to the nest by Jimin sat astride across his thighs. Hobi is side by side with your mate between the pack alphas legs, lips kissed pink and chaffed as your mate sucks around the base of Namjoon’s cock where his knot inflates. The skin there is red and sensitive while Hobi kisses and licks at the head.

Later- later you’ll think about it. The way that they looked, eyes closed, lips parted, and file it away for your own personal spank bank (that’s what the boys might call it) feasting on the pack alphas cock and lapping at it like it’s an ice pop on a warm summer's day.

From this angle- Hobi must be able to see all of you, hips held open so that the muzzle and Namjoon's face can fit in the hollow of your thighs. held open and on display for your pack.

The fine mesh of the muzzle is warmed from Namjoon’s breath, at least warm enough that it doesn’t make you hiss when he holds you over it, gentler this time. If you could see the way that Namjoon goes almost cross-eyed trying to look at your cunt, you just might laugh.

But he watches as your fucked entrance clenches, all pink from his own diligent fucking- the silvery whiteness of his cum and your slick that drips. He guides you back and forth across it and every time your clit drags just right, your hole clenches forcing more slick out. The mesh is smooth and pleasant, the drag just right when soaked with slick. Just rough enough to get you off and not rough enough to hurt.

Namjoon keeps his mouth open, hoping for some of the slick to drip down. behind him, Jin holds the collar and grins at you.

You can barely protest through the humiliation as jin pulls back, and declares he’s going to give you a hole check.

you try to grip jin’s wrist but his stern expression says he’s not to be ignored. Your clit stays plastered against the mesh and Namjoon doesn’t blink, doesn’t even breath as he watches jin’s long fingers probe and poke and explore the wet depths of your cunt. Searching for any sign that Namjoon’s done too much damage. pulling your pussy apart with both hands so that he can see all of you. pussy lips made puffy from so much fucking, hole cute pink and hot clenching around his fingers, not nearly as tight as you where a few days ago but not inflamed.

Taking a cock so big so many times in a row can be dangerous for anyone, and while Jin was worried it appears that you really were made for this, taking such a big cock like the perfect slut. Without complaint. Jin could cry he’s so proud as you lay on your shoulders and just take it.

You only let out a squeak when jin rubs deep, trying to touch that forbidden place that namjoon’s ruined time and time again with his cock and knot. there you’re too sore for more.

“You fucked her so wide namjoon, all the others are going to have a hard time having her on their own. might need to pair up and knot her two at a time. Spoiled puppy just wanted everything for himself.”

you protest, babbling that you couldn’t possibly take two cocks right now, but Jin just coos and ignores you. You wish you didn’t find it hot how he talks about you like you’re not there. Like you’re just some object for Namjoon and the pack’s pleasure. A hot flush of want rushes down your spine as jin strokes your insides and you resist the urge to pull off from the sensitivity. It hurts, but it hurts so good as jin fucks four fingers into your cunt, pressing down with the flat of his hand and rubbing.

You think you’re fine, that you’re just going to hiccup through this orgasm until Jin reaches, looping his arms around your middle. You think he might actually be trying to mount you, pressed all close, his omega cock standing hard and ready, lined up between your thighs. But then he hooks his fingers into the mesh of the muzzle and drags Namjoon back into a grind against your clit.

You can’t stop the hot gust of wet that drips down and through the bars. Not just your slick, but a bit of Namjoon’s cum too as you clench hard.

It’s mean- it’s so mean and you can’t do more than sob as you make a mess of the muzzle, it’s gross and it’s humiliating but Tae only coos, brushing away your tears and pinching your cheeks making you look down at your mate and Hobi and jin.

“Good pup. Pretty baby too full huh, so messy and dumb that she couldn’t keep it in anymore. Don’t worry, if you lose alphas cum he’ll just fuck you full again.”

Namjoon nods jerky, you’d never know his knot had just popped if it wasn’t for your mate’s low curse.

A rope of cum lands across his face, and then Hobi’s. It drips down his slender nose to his lips. And he sags, tired. All of you are near the end of your ropes, near the end of what you can handle.

Namjoon’s words are slurry and inarticulate. “wanna keep her like this all the time, Gonna fuck her so good she ends up pregnant, gonna push it deep. Gonna do it before her mate does.” Hobi clamps down with his hand, holding tight around Namjoon’s knot. Heavy hot ropes of cum hitting his chin, his scent gland as Namjoon groans, stomach twitching, “Want it- want more.“

You look back at Hobi, tongue looking long as he licks his lips clean.

Jin laughs when he feels your stomach clench. Cunt spasming weakly around nothing. You didn't think you still had the energy to cum however gently. A few drops of slick and cum lands on Namjoons held out tongue. Jin’s hands cradle your stomach and guide your shaking thighs off of the muzzle. man handling you until you’re sitting in Tae’s lap.

She laughs, but says nothing about what just made you cum.

~-~

(Special)

Eventually, the omegas are just too sensitive to continue. You're all too well fucked. Jin’s cock is red and sensitive from Namjoon's mouthing. Jungkook’s hole spanked and swollen. Your entrance is puffy and pink and beyond the point of being able to take anymore. Even the most gentle of touches makes you whine. Too sensitive, much too sensitive for another knot.

But that doesn’t mean that Namjoon’s rut necessarily ends.

It won't truly cease until all members of the pack are fucked and pleasured by him. Until they smell claimed from the inside out by his knot and cum.

It takes hours of prep for Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin, and Tae to take Namjoon’s knot, their bodies just aren’t built for it. It’s easier with Jungkook and Jin's and your slick on their fingers. Traded from your bodies, sometimes collected from around the base of Namjoon’s knot.

It’s filthy and it definitely makes his rut feel more like a gangbang than anything. but it is incredibly hot to watch Jin open up Yoongi not with his own slick- but yours. to lap at the beta’s hole to savor any that might slip out. Namjoon’s pussy privileges have been recently revoked.

Your mate makes noises you’d never thought you’d hear him make. Deep full bodied Moans wrenched from his chest and low curses as he takes Namjoon’s cock. Yoongi's a bit lazy, happy to lie back and let Namjoon man handle his body into whatever position he wants, too tired to do anything else. You kiss his pouted lips while he hisses at the stretch of a knot but he still cums when namjoon reaches down to tug at his cock. You like Yoongi like this. Face resting across your thighs while Namjoon fucks him to the point of oversensitivity. albeit gently.

You thought that watching Tae and Jimin get fucked by him would be hot and brutal. For Jimin it definitely is; it's almost nearly as bloody as Jin and Namjoon got earlier. Namjoon ends up with a black eye and jimin with a bruise on his ribs, but it's all good fun and leaves them both grinning and happy.

But with Tae, Namjoon holds her so so gently.

The matter of Jimin's slip-up earlier has been put to bed for now but it’s not entirely forgotten as namjoon lingers over her. He cradles her hips, touching her thighs by pressing his palms flat and dragging ever so slow. like he can't believe Tae's there, that she's his to love and fuck and cherish.

Namjoon bunches up her skirt so that he can watch her cock bob. And noses at her nipples the same way he nosed at yours. The neckline of her flimsy nightdress pulled down low. When he sucks she keens, cumming wetly between them.

Watching Namjoon fuck Hobi though- that feels like something truly special.

Unlike with the rest of you, he lies firmly across the smaller alpha's back. Thighs pinning him completely so that he can't move at all. Fucking him in the same position the omega's took. Rocking his hips in deep. Licking and lapping and biting with abandon. Hobi’s lips part in pleasure as he groans, comfortable and at ease with a show of such submission. Hands scrabbling but pinned down by the wrist. Namjoon keeps him still and makes him take it.

Namjoon scruffs him the entire time while he fucks him. Hobi goes numb all the way to his toes, his whole body live and alight with pleasure.

His cheeks pink and his long eyelashes flutter as you watch. Knot-long popped and completely forgotten, rubbing uselessly between his stomach and the sheets. no need to use it when the pack alpha has a cock like this, splitting him open.

Hobi looks up at you when Namjoon knots him, body stretched to the breaking point.

This time, You don’t look away.

~-~

(Silent)

When Namjoon's rut finally breaks it’s in the middle of the night and it’s quiet.

Every single person's chest rises and falls, eight hearts beating in tandem. The tv buzzes faintly and the porch light is still on. Everyone’s dreaming and everyone's safe.

For now.

You’re on top of Namjoon’s chest, palm placed over his heart, Jin’s head is on Jimin’s shoulder, keeping him alive with his presence, heart beating stubbornly even now. Jimin's hand holding Tae's across the covers. Everything’s calmed down from Tae’s meltdown. Close at last.

They’ll talk about what happened tomorrow when the pack can pile in at the table and eat their fill and recover.

Or maybe they won’t. Maybe Jimin and Tae will wake up and pretend like nothing’s wrong like nothing changed. They’ll kiss good morning, trying to pretend like there isn’t anything wrong. Something between them that hovers on the edge of every kiss is a little bitter. Every touch that doesn't last as long as it might have before.

Jin will wash each of them one by one, starting with Namjoon and ending with Yoongi. Hot water to ease their muscles. All of their sore-bitten skin made new with bubbles and body wash. Namjoon will apologize for biting you and be lucid this time. Will take care of any marks that the pack wears like happy brands.

Tae's wrapped tight in Yoongi’s embrace his large hand cradling the back of her head like he can keep her dreams inside that way. Jungkook’s belly up, hand resting on his bare stomach, greasy hair a tangle over his head, in need of a shower and water.

Even Hobi’s breath is quiet and easy, his body relaxing as his pack alphas scent dissipates into its usual mellow coffee. Leaving the rut behind.

It’s just as quiet when they float the body out to sea.

On the shore, a pair of women linger on the edge where the streetlights become shadows.

Moonbyul and Hyejin watch their two packmates move through the water. Matters don’t always require that the ruling omega and alpha get their hands dirty but this murder did. This task they couldn't trust to anyone else but their inner circle. While It’s not the most pleasant task, both Solar and Wheein had been awfully eager for a chance to leave the nest and prove they could be good.

“Do you think they’ll get the message?” Hyejin rasps, throat raw feeling from the cold salty air. Wrapped in her dark furs. Mouth just as red and ruby as the lingering blood under Moonbyul fingernails. The towels in her hands are clean. She’s ready with them so that both of their omega’s don’t have to linger in their shivers for long.

It’s a sweet gesture. If they hadn’t been so good the last few weeks, they might not have earned it.

Moonbyul doesn’t look at her, eyes on the barely their forms that store the body by the rocks. Out where the water grows deep and crashes hard. Both of them are good swimmers but having them out of the nest always sets her on edge. Hyejin has never known what for. It's not like either of them could ever leave or be stolen away. No one would dare.

No one would have dared, until Yoongi did.

Moonbyul been a little bit antsy maybe since the recent loss. That antsiness has only grown as the months have dragged on. Hyejin knows she’s not on edge just because of the body.

They’re supposed to find it. It’s not their usual clean and crisp hit. But that's the point.

Moonbyul doesn’t look at Hyejin at all, keeping her eyes on the festering sea. Cold air wiping in her face, the taste of salt and blood on her tongue.

"Are you worried?"

Moonbyul scoffs, “A good dog comes when called.”

Hyejin cocks her head, ruby lips lifting into something like a smile. Thinking of you, eyes upturned looking at her for approval as you mixed poison into baking material. flour and powdery arsenic, You were always good, obedient and eager to please.

“It’s not her I’m worried about."

Moonbyul sets a soothing hand on the nape of her neck.

“Then we'll give them another incentive.”

~-~

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