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captive desires - chapter two

pairing: hybrid bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 10.1 k

warnings: depictions of violence, death, family trauma, mentions of blood, yandere-ish, hybrids, animal abuse

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when myah returned home that night something felt off.

jisun was waiting for her in the living room, curled up on the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the other bouncing slightly. her rabbit ears twitching the second myah stepped through the door, nose scrunching up as if she caught a scent she doesn’t like. her golden eyes sharpened, flickering over myah from head to toe.

not just looking. assessing.

"where were you?" jisun’s voice is soft, but there’s a tension to it, like a wire stretched too tight.

"the house," myah answers, kicking off her shoes. her limbs feel heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the thick layer of unease clinging to her skin. she can still feel the press of cold metal beneath her fingertips, the scent of damp stone lingering in her nose.

jisun watches her closely. doesn’t blink. doesn’t look away. myah knows that look.

then, slowly, jisun sits up, stretching her arms overhead, her movements languid, too casual. calculated. her ears flick again.

"and?"

myah hesitates. "and…what?"

jisun tilts her head slightly, eyes never leaving hers. "and why do you smell like that?"

a chill runs down myah’s spine, cold and sharp. her fingers twitch at her sides, but she doesn’t move. doesn’t flinch.

she won’t flinch.

"what are you talking about?" she asks, forcing her voice to stay even, bored, like jisun is just being dramatic again.

jisun doesn’t respond right away. instead, she rises to her feet, slow and deliberate, stepping closer. too close.

myah can see it now, the way her pupils have dilated just slightly, the way her nostrils flare, like she’s inhaling, pulling in something unfamiliar.

"other hybrids," jisun murmurs. "it’s faint, but…it’s there. under all that dust and whatever else is clinging to you."

myah’s mouth goes dry. there’s no way, she thought.

from the kitchen, chae-eun’s voice drifts in, calm but curious. "should we be concerned?"

jisun doesn’t look away. doesn’t even blink.

myah forces a breath past her lips, tries to shake the tension out of her shoulders. act normal. don’t let them see it.

"i don’t know what you’re talking about," she lies. "it was just me."

another pause. jisun’s eyes narrow, her ears flicking again, sharp and quick.

"okay," she says, but the word is light, dismissive. a trap.

myah can see it in the way she lingers, the way her fingers twitch at her sides, like she wants to reach out, grab her wrist, pull the truth out of her. but she doesn’t push. not yet. instead, she just smiles. too sweet. too knowing.

"you should sleep in my room again tonight," she says, voice smooth. "just in case."

myah exhales slowly. "i’m fine, jisun."

"humor me."

her voice is light, but there’s something unshakable in her tone, something dangerous lurking beneath the concern. something that says i know you’re lying.

she knows.

maybe not everything. maybe not what, exactly, myah had found in that basement, but she knows something happened.

and myah can’t risk pushing her further.

"fine," she murmurs.

jisun hums, pleased, and reaches out, running her fingers through myah’s hair, absently smoothing it down. like she’s claiming her. like she’s reminding her where she belongs.

"good," she whispers. "i’ll take care of you."

as the night drags on, the air is thick and heavy. myah shifts beneath the covers, sleep evading her.

jisun is curled against her side, her breathing slow, steady. but even in sleep, she doesn’t let go. one of her hands rests lightly on myah’s wrist, fingers curled just enough to keep her there.

it’s not just comfort. it’s possession. a quiet warning.

stay where i can see you.

myah stares at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. she feels like she’s still in the basement, like the weight of the house is pressing down on her, wrapping around her throat like invisible hands.

the scratching.

the breathing.

it had been on the other side of that door. waiting.

she had run. bolted up the stairs like a coward, slamming the panel shut behind her.

but she hadn’t imagined it.

she knows what she heard.

a shiver runs through her.

the sun hadn’t even risen by the time she finally untangles herself from jisun’s grip. she moves carefully, slowly, prying herself free without waking her.

jisun stirs slightly, fingers twitching against the sheets, but doesn’t wake.

quietly, myah slipped out of the room.

rounding the corner, myah sees chae-eun in the kitchen, stirring a cup of coffee, her expression unreadable. the early morning light filters through the window, casting soft shadows across the counter.

myah freezes for half a second.

then, chae-eun glances up, meeting her gaze.

she doesn’t say anything. doesn’t scold her for being up so early or for looking like she hasn’t slept at all.

instead, she turns, pulls another mug from the cabinet, and fills it.

then she slides it across the counter.

“sit.”

it’s not a request.

myah hesitates, but she’s too exhausted to argue. she pulls out a chair and sinks into it, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic.

silence settles between them.

chae-eun watches her. patient. waiting.

“what happened?”

myah’s fingers tighten around the mug. “what do you mean?”

chae-eun exhales, tilting her head slightly. “you came back wrong.”

the words shouldn’t make myah’s stomach drop, but they do.

“jisun smelled it,” chae-eun continues, voice even, unreadable. “i saw it. you walked in here like you weren’t sure if you were even supposed to be back.”

myah swallows, forcing herself to meet her gaze.

she isn’t like jisun. she doesn’t sniff people out, doesn’t pin them in place with a knowing look, doesn’t dig her claws into the truth until it spills out, raw and exposed.

but she doesn’t have to.

because chae-eun knows.

she’s already put the pieces together, already seen the way myah walked through the door last night like she was stepping out of a nightmare, the way her hands shook when she thought no one was looking, the way she hesitated when asked what happened.

and she’s waiting for myah to say it.

for some reason, that makes it harder.

her throat feels tight.

her mind flashes back to the house. to the dim light flickering overhead, to the cold air creeping up from beneath the floorboards and the dust thick in the air.

to the door in the basement.

she hadn’t seen anything.

but she had heard it.

the scratching. the breathing. the slow, deliberate drag of nails against metal. like whatever was behind that door wasn’t just waiting.

and then, that moment,

that awful moment,

when the sound had stopped.

when the silence had stretched long and thin, curling around her like a warning.

when the air had felt too still, as if something was pressing against the other side of the door, ear to the metal, mirroring her.

like it was listening back.

myah shudders.

her fingers tighten around her mug, her pulse thudding against her ribs.

chae-eun doesn’t look away. doesn’t blink.

the weight of her gaze makes it impossible to lie.

so myah exhales, steadying herself, and whispers, “there’s something in the basement.”

chae-eun stills.

myah forces herself to keep going. “i don’t know what, but,” she shakes her head. “it’s locked. bolted shut. but there was something on the other side.”

the words feel ridiculous now that they’re out in the open. like she’s a child confessing to a nightmare.

but chae-eun doesn’t laugh.

doesn’t blink.

instead, she sets her mug down carefully, fingers pressing against the counter’s edge.

“what did you hear?”

myah’s stomach twists, nausea curling low in her gut.

the apartment feels too warm all of a sudden, the scent of coffee and chae-un’s floral perfume turning thick and suffocating in the air.

her grip on the mug tightens, the ceramic pressing into her palms, grounding her.

but it doesn’t stop the memory from creeping in.

“scratching,” she says, the word dragging out of her throat like something unwilling.

chae-eun doesn’t move.

doesn’t even blink.

her expression remains eerily neutral, but there’s something simmering beneath it, something watching.calculating.

waiting for myah to keep going.

she swallows, throat dry.

“and breathing.”

the words are barely a whisper, but they feel deafening in the quiet of their kitchen.

chae-eun exhales, slow and measured, before leaning forward, resting her elbows on the counter.

her eyes don’t leavemyah’s face.

and then she asks,

“how did it breathe?”

a chill rips down myah’s spine.

the question shouldn’t make her stomach drop, shouldn’t make her pulse pound against her ribs.

but it does.

because chae-eun isn’t asking to humor her.

she’s asking because she sees her.

and that means this isn’t just paranoia.

this is real.

she blinks, forcing herself to focus. “what?”

chae-eun tilts her head slightly, like she’s studying her.

“was it shallow?” she asks, her voice too calm, too controlled. “uneven?” she pauses. “or was it slow?”

the world tilts for a second.

slow.

the lump in myah’s throat feels impossibly thick.

her mind yanks her back to the basement.

to the thick, suffocating air pressing against her skin.

to the steel door, bolted shut, looming in front of her like something alive.

and to the moment it breathed.

not shallow.

not erratic.

not panicked.

not desperate for escape.

controlled.

deep.

a slow inhale, dragging through the silence, like something was taking its time.

like it was thinking.

like it knew she was there.

like it was waiting for her to lean just a little closer.

her pulse roars in her ears as she forces her hands to stay steady around the mug, forces her voice to stay even.

but when she finally speaks, the words barely scrape past her throat.

“...it was slow.”

chae-eun inhales through her nose, leaning back slightly.

she doesn’t look surprised.

she looks like she just had something confirmed.

and for some reason,

that terrifies myah more than anything.

like whatever was behind that door had been listening to her just as closely as she had been listening to it.

she doesn’t answer.

she doesn’t have to.

chae-eun sits back, exhaling through her nose.

“and?”

myah blinks. “and?”

“what are you going to do about it?”

the question lands like a slap.

she doesn’t have an answer. not one she can put into words, not one that makes sense. her pulse is still erratic, the memory of that deep, measured breathing pressed into the back of her skull like a stain she can’t wash out.

her fingers twitch around her mug.

“i don’t know,” she admits finally. it’s quiet, but it feels deafening in the small space of their kitchen.

chae-eun watches her for a long moment. then, just as calmly, she says, “do you want me to come with you?”

myah’s breath catches.

she blinks, unsure if she heard her right. “what?”

chae-eun shrugs, taking another slow sip of her coffee, as if she’s offering to run an errand with her, not go back to a house with something locked in its basement.

“you’re planning on going back, aren’t you?”

myah doesn’t answer.

she doesn’t need to.

chae-eun hums, setting her cup down again. “you shouldn’t go alone.”

“i—” myah shakes her head, still trying to catch up. “i wasn’t—i mean, i don’t—”

“you are going back,” chae-eun says, cutting through her hesitation with the same sharp, even tone she always uses when she’s already figured something out. “it’s just a matter of when.”

myah exhales through her nose, pressing her palms against the table. she wants to argue. wants to say she’s not planning anything.

but that would be a lie.

because of course she’s going back.

she doesn’t have a choice.

chae-eun tilts her head, considering her. “so?”

myah hesitates.

then, ever so quietly se replies “you don’t have to.”

“i know.” chae-eun leans back, tapping her fingers against her mug. “but i don’t like the idea of you going by yourself.”

she doesn’t say i believe you. she doesn’t say you’re not crazy.

but she also doesn’t say you imagined it. doesn’t tell her to leave it alone.

and somehow, that makes myah’s chest ache.

she swallows. “okay.”

chae-eun nods once, satisfied.

“we’ll go tomorrow,” she says simply. then she stands, stretching, rolling her shoulders back like she’s already moving on to the next thing. “you should try to get some actual sleep.”

myah huffs out something that’s almost a laugh. “doubt that’ll happen.”

“figured.” chae-eun gives her a look. “just don’t let jisun catch on.”

right.

jisun.

myah’s stomach twists.

“i won’t,” she says, but she’s not sure.

because jisun’s already suspicious.

and if she realizes myah’s planning to go back

she won’t let her leave.

not without a fight.

the house is still.

above them, the weight of silence stretches, thick and heavy. but down here, beneath the earth, buried beneath years of rusted metal and stone, none of them are sleeping.

jungkook finally stops pacing, his body taut with frustration, muscles wound too tight. his jaguar tail flicks, a sharp, irritated motion, the faint rosette markings on his arms standing out under the dim light.

“i hate waiting,” he growls, voice low.

yoongi exhales, stretching out against the bars like he has all the time in the world, his panther tail curling lazily around his wrist. “we’ve waited this long. a little longer won’t kill you.”

“speak for yourself,” hoseok mutters, shifting his weight where he sits, his spotted tail tapping impatiently against the cold stone. his golden eyes flick toward the ceiling. “feels different now.”

“it is different,” seokjin murmurs, his silver-white hair catching in the dim light as he leans against the bars, his fluffy tail curling around his leg. his tone is unreadable, but his piercing, icy blue eyes are sharp, focused.

“she was here,” jungkook snaps, tail flicking again, more agitated this time.

“briefly,” namjoon corrects, his golden mane slightly disheveled from where he’s been leaning against the wall. he looks calm, but his amber eyes hold an intensity beneath them, calculating, considering. “and then she ran.”

silence lingers for a moment.

“if she returns,” taehyung says, his deep voice laced with lazy amusement, though his sharp tiger eyes glint with something darker, “we’ll see what kind of person she really is.”

jungkook’s ears twitch back. “she will.”

“will she?” taehyung tilts his head, black curls falling over his eyes. “we both smelled the fear on her.”

his gaze sweeps the room, landing on namjoon. “it’s clear she knows something dangerous is down here.”

“good.” yoongi’s voice is smooth, almost lazy. “means she’s smart.”

jimin, who’s been sitting with his long, clouded leopard tail draped over his lap, finally shifts. his hazel eyes gleam in the dim light, something unreadable in them.

“then we just have to convince her that nothing dangerous is down here.”

jungkook scoffs, rolling his shoulders. “easier said than done.”

“not really.” jimin hums, tracing idle patterns on the stone floor with one fingertip. “fear makes people irrational. she ran before she saw anything, which means she’s only scared of what she thinks is here.”

“so we let her fill in the blanks,” seokjin muses, a slow smirk curling his lips.

hoseok snickers, resting his chin on his palm. “oh, this is going to be fun.”

but namjoon remains quiet, watching, considering.

he knows something the others don’t want to acknowledge.

he finally speaks, his voice steady, measured.

“even if she does come down here,” he murmurs, “even if she opens the door,”

his golden eyes flick to the cages.

“do you really think she’ll open these?”

the room falls silent.

jungkook’s tail flicks once, twice, sharp and agitated.

“so what?” he mutters, crossing his arms. “we just sit here and hope she’s stupid enough to come back?”

seokjin hums, a slow, amused sound. “you sound eager.”

jungkook’s golden eyes snap toward him, sharp and irritated. “we’ve been rotting in here for years. you’re not eager?”

seokjin shrugs, his silvery-white hair shifting as he leans against the bars. “eager? maybe. impatient? never.”

“you should be,” jungkook growls. “because namjoon’s right, she could walk through that door and still leave us locked in these fucking cages.”

his tail flicks again, a sharp, annoyed motion.

“we have no control over what she does.”

“so we make her do what we want,” taehyung murmurs, his deep voice laced with something dark.

jimin tilts his head, his long, spotted tail curling loosely around his fingers. “we can’t exactly hold a knife to her throat, taehyung.”

taehyung exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “who said anything about knives?”

yoongi shifts, rolling his neck, his golden eyes catching the dim light. “you want to scare her into it?”

taehyung shrugs. “if she’s too afraid to open the cages, we make her afraid not to.”

hoseok, who’s been quiet up until now, snorts. “you’re an idiot.”

taehyung’s gaze snaps toward him, but hoseok doesn’t look impressed. his golden, cheetah like eyes are sharp, calculated, but there’s an edge of amusement curling at his lips.

“you think she’ll listen to threats? we just established she ran because she already knows something’s wrong here,” hoseok points out. “if she really thought there were monsters in this basement, do you think she’d willingly let them out?”

taehyung narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t argue.

because hoseok’s right.

seokjin sighs, dragging a hand through his silver-streaked hair. “so, what? we play nice?”

jimin’s lips curl, slow and sweet. “we make her want to help us.”

jungkook scoffs. “we’re a bunch of caged hybrids. what exactly do we have to offer?”

jimin’s hazel eyes gleam, knowing. “you’d be surprised.”

yoongi finally shifts, exhaling like he’s already exhausted. “namjoon?”

the lion hybrid hasn’t spoken for a while, his golden-blond mane slightly tousled as he leans back against the cold bars of his cage, watching them all in silence. his amber eyes are thoughtful, considering.

“we wait,” he says simply.

jungkook makes a frustrated sound. “are you kidding me?”

namjoon doesn’t react. his expression remains steady, unwavering.

“she’ll come back.”

his voice is calm, but there’s something final beneath it. something certain.

his tail flicks once, slow. deliberate.

“and when she does…” his golden eyes glint in the dim light.

“we’ll make sure she doesn’t leave empty-handed.”

the basement is still.

the cold, damp air sits heavy, clinging to their skin like a second layer. in the quiet, only the slow flicking of tails and the steady rise and fall of breath can be heard. but beneath that, something simmers. something restless.

yoongi is the only one who looks at ease, lounging with his back pressed against the metal, long legs stretched out, panther tail draped over his lap.

the air is heavier tonight.

not from tension, at least, not the kind they’re used to.

but something else. something uncertain.

"you’re thinking too loud," yoongi mutters, barely opening his eyes.

namjoon huffs out a quiet breath, shaking his head. "someone has to think."

“that sounds exhausting,” jimin hums, stretching his arms above his head before letting them fall limply back to his sides. “ever considered letting it go? just for one night?”

seokjin smirks, tipping his head back against the bars. “namjoon? relax? you might as well ask the old man to start treating us like his pets.”

silence.

the weight of his absence is still fresh, still strange.

"why do you think they kept us?" taehyung asks suddenly, voice quiet.

it isn’t the first time the question has been asked.

but tonight, it feels different.

yoongi's golden-amber eyes flick open, sharp against the dim light. “who cares?”

"i do," taehyung mutters. “they could’ve killed us. we’ve all seen them do it before. they take hybrids and toss them out, hunt them for sport, treat them worse than animals.”

his tail flicks against the bars, a slow, restless motion. “so why us?”

hoseok exhales, tilting his head back. "maybe we were a game."

jungkook's jaw tightens. "we are a game."

the silence that follows is heavy.

because they all know that’s the truth.

they were hunted, taken, thrown in cages, kept.

but why?

seokjin, who had been quiet up until now, speaks.

“it wasn’t just for sport,” he murmurs, voice smoother than it should be given the weight of the conversation.

they all turn to him.

he runs a hand through his silver hair, blue-gray eyes unreadable. "if it was just for sport, we wouldn’t still be here."

"then why?" jungkook asks, eyes dark, intense.

seokjin sighs. "because they were waiting for something."

the words settle over them.

because it makes sense.

if they had only been prey, they would have been discarded long ago.

but instead, they were kept.

the old man, sir, as they had been forced to call him, had always been different with them. not kind, never kind, but never outright cruel either.

"maybe they liked the idea of us belonging to them," jimin says softly, tracing patterns into the dust.

his tail sways lazily, but his expression is distant, unreadable.

"not them," yoongi corrects. “him.”

they don’t have to say his name.

the old man is gone now.

but his presence still lingers, buried in the walls, in the floor, in the cages that still haven’t been opened.

"if he was waiting for something, it sure as hell wasn’t us," jungkook mutters, stretching out his arms, muscles rippling under golden-toned skin.

“no,” namjoon agrees, voice low. “but maybe it was her.”

silence.

the air shifts.

jimin hums, a slow, thoughtful sound. "if it was, then the real question is what was she supposed to do?"

none of them have an answer.

but the truth is obvious.

she was here once before,

and she’ll come back.

jungkook scoffs, rolling his shoulders. "even if she does, do you really think she’ll open the cages?"

seokjin tilts his head, smirking. "we’ll just have to give her a reason to."

yoongi’s lips curl, slow and sharp. “and if she doesn’t?”

jimin, who has been silent, finally speaks.

"then we make her want to."

his hazel eyes gleam in the dark, something knowing, something dangerous flickering behind them.

they all glance toward the door.

waiting.

listening.

because when she returns,

and she will return,

she won’t be walking away so easily this time.

the next morning, myah wakes up feeling like she never actually slept.

the weight of the night before clings to her skin, thick and suffocating. every time she closes her eyes, she hears the slow, deliberate scratch against metal, the measured breathing on the other side of the door. steady and patient, as if it knew she was there.

as if it had been waiting for her.

she swallows hard, staring up at the ceiling.

the morning light filters weakly through the blinds, casting pale streaks across the walls. jisun is still curled beside her, warm and unmoving except for the occasional twitch of her ears. her breathing is soft, even, but there’s a possessiveness to the way her fingers remain loosely curled around the edge of myah’s sleeve, like even in sleep, she refuses to let go.

and chae-eun—

the memory of her sharp, pointed gaze flashes through myah’s mind, the don’t be stupid written all over her face when she left last night.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud.

myah already knows.

because the basement door still exists.

and that thing behind it still exists.

and she still has no idea what the hell she’s supposed to do about it.

but for now, she has to go to work.

she exhales slowly, forcing herself to move.

carefully, she peels jisun’s fingers from her sleeve, holding her breath as she shifts out of bed. jisun stirs slightly, mumbling something unintelligible, her ears flicking once before she settles again.

myah lingers for half a second, watching her.

she can’t know.

not yet.

not until myah figures out what she’s dealing with.

and right now she’s not even close.

by the time she steps into the café, the scent of coffee and fresh bread is already thick in the air, warm and familiar. the soft hum of conversation blends with the whir of the espresso machine, the clinking of ceramic cups against saucers, the low chatter of customers tucked into booths and perched on stools.

kai is behind the counter, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he works the espresso machine with practiced ease. his tail flicks once, irritated, as he pulls a shot, eyes narrowed at the portafilter like it personally offended him.

when he sees myah walk in, his sharp gaze flickers over her, quick and assessing.

“you look like shit.”

myah sighs, rubbing a hand over her face as she ties her apron around her waist. “good morning to you too.”

kai doesn’t let it go. “you sleep?”

“enough.”

he raises a brow. clearly, he doesn’t believe her, but for once, he doesn’t press.

“you sure?” yuna’s voice cuts in before myah can brace herself.

she’s leaning over the counter, chin propped up in her palm, eyes glinting with amusement. strands of dyed blonde hair fall loose from her messy ponytail, the ends curling slightly from the humidity in the café. she’s already chewing gum, bright pink, probably sickly sweet, snapping it between her teeth as she watches myah like she’s her morning entertainment.

“’cause you look like you’ve either seen a ghost or committed a murder,” she continues, smirking.

myah exhales. “maybe both.”

kai’s ears twitch slightly, his grip tightening on the tamper for a fraction of a second before he slides a drink across the counter toward her without a word.

she takes it without question, the warmth of the cup grounding her more than she wants to admit.

yuna pops another piece of gum into her mouth, eyes still trained on myah. “big plans after work?”

myah hesitates.

“nah.”

kai snorts. “liar.”

she stiffens, grip tightening around her cup.

“what?”

kai doesn’t even look up from the milk frother. “you just seem off today. you keep touching your pocket like you’ve got something in there, and you keep looking at the door like you’re waiting for someone to walk through it.”

myah stiffens, her hand immediately retreating from where it had been resting against her jacket pocket.

damn.

she hadn’t even realized she was doing that.

she forces herself to stop, shoving both hands into the apron tied around her waist instead. but now that kai has pointed it out, it’s all she can think about. the nervous tick, the way she keeps checking the entrance like something is coming for her.

because, deep down, she feels like it is.

yuna, ever the opportunist when it comes to gossip, perks up from where she’s stacking cups near the espresso machine.

“ooh,” she coos, leaning in with a devilish grin. “is it a boy?”

myah snorts, but it comes out weaker than she intends. “oh, totally. i met a guy in a dark, creepy basement and immediately fell in love.”

yuna gasps dramatically. “no way.”

kai makes a face, ears twitching in mild irritation. “you do realize that’s a concerning sentence, right?”

yuna ignores him, smirking. “was he hot?”

myah groans, rubbing her temples. “yuna, there was no guy.”

yuna clicks her tongue, clearly unbothered by the denial. “tragic. girl, i wish that was the case. at least then you’d be getting some action.”

kai, who had been in the middle of sipping his coffee, promptly chokes.

he sets his cup down hard on the counter, coughing into his fist while shooting yuna a look of pure betrayal.

“what the fuck?” he wheezes.

yuna cackles, patting him on the back way too hard. “relax, fox boy, it’s just an observation.”

kai glares at her between coughs. “keep your observations to yourself.”

myah, tired of all of them, groans louder and throws a towel in yuna’s direction. “can we not?”

yuna just winks and flounces away to help a customer, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she didn’t just set a match to dry kindling and walk away. the slight bounce in her step, the smug tilt of her lips, it’s so yuna. she lives for moments like this, for stirring the pot just enough to make people squirm.

kai mutters something under his breath, tail flicking in irritation as he picks his coffee back up. whatever he says is too quiet for myah to hear, but judging by the way his ears twitch, it’s probably not polite.

myah exhales, dragging a hand through her hair, trying to shake off the conversation. but the words linger, pressing against her ribs like something sticky, something that won’t leave her alone.

she grabs a rag and busies herself wiping down the counter, but her movements are stiff, absentminded. her fingers twitch at her side, itching to reach into her pocket. to check. to make sure the basement key is still there.

but she doesn’t.

instead, she keeps glancing at the door.

and kai notices.

she doesn’t realize he’s watching her until she feels his gaze, sharp and focused, cutting through the space between them.

“what?” she mutters, not looking at him.

he leans in slightly, voice lower, quieter. “if it’s not a guy, then what is it?”

her grip tightens around the rag in her hands.

the weight in her pocket is heavy.

too heavy.

she’s not ready to answer that.

not yet.

so she forces herself to relax, tilts her head just slightly, and gives him a slow, easy smile.

“wouldn’t you like to know?”

kai doesn’t react right away. his ears twitch again, tail flicking once behind him, but his expression doesn’t change.

he just watches her.

assessing.

calculating.

then, finally, he exhales and pulls back, picking up his coffee like he didn’t just pry a little too close to the truth.

“yeah,” he mutters, taking a sip. “i really would.”

and that, that unsettles her more than anything.

myah just takes a slow sip of her coffee and stares him down, letting the silence stretch between them. she knows kai. knows that he’s waiting, expecting her to crack, to give him something real.

but she won’t.

not yet.

instead, she swallows, and shrugs. “well, that’s too bad.”

kai exhales through his nose, his ears flicking back slightly. a subtle, irritated movement. his tail gives a single, slow flick before going still again.

but he doesn’t push.

not yet.

instead, he grabs a rag, swiping at an already clean spot on the counter, his voice low.

“just don’t do anything stupid.”

too late for that.

but myah doesn’t say it. doesn’t acknowledge the way her pulse stutters at the thought of the key still sitting in her pocket, burning against her skin like a loaded gun she hasn’t decided to fire yet.

she just hums, noncommittal, and turns away, forcing herself to focus on something, anything, else.

but it’s hard.

her mind keeps slipping, caught between the steady noise of the café and the silence of last night.

the silence before the scratch.

the silence before the breath.

she busies herself wiping down tables, clearing empty cups, resetting napkin dispensers, but it does nothing to ground her. her fingers twitch against the rag in her hands, her movements too stiff, too precise.

every time the café door swings open, she stiffens.

her body braces like she’s expecting something.

someone.

it’s ridiculous.

no one is coming for her.

and yet,

the feeling doesn’t fade.

it settles into her bones, curling against her spine, a whisper of unease that refuses to leave.

she feels watched.

even long after the morning rush dies down, even when the café is half-empty, even when the only people left are the usual customers who have never spared her a second glance.

the sensation lingers.

slipping into the cracks of her thoughts, pressing against the edges of her ribs.

a quiet, unshakable feeling.

like something unseen is waiting.

like something knows.

the thought sits heavy in her chest, crawling up her throat like a warning she can’t quite decipher. the café hums around her, warm and full of life, but she feels outside of it, like she’s not really here, like part of her is still trapped somewhere else.

somewhere below.

the scratching, the slow measured breathing, it all plays in the back of her mind, looping like a song she can’t shake.

it knew she was there.

it was waiting.

her fingers twitch against the rag in her hand, and for a second, she swears the air shifts around her. like something is standing just behind her shoulder, just out of reach, watching.

she nearly jumps when yuna slaps a hand onto her shoulder.

“earth to myah,” she drawls, chewing loudly on her gum. “you gonna take that table, or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’ve been possessed?”

myah blinks, her body snapping back into the present like a rubber band pulled too tight.

a couple sits by the window, waiting for her, eyes flicking between their menus and her blank stare.

right.

her chest feels tight as she forces herself to move, shaking off the lingering unease. she grabs her notepad and crosses the room, past the soft hum of customers, past the steady clinking of cups and plates.

the café is normal.

safe.

but her thoughts are elsewhere.

namely,

the house.

the basement.

the locked door.

she takes the order on autopilot, her voice steady, her hands moving without thinking. she writes down words she doesn’t fully process, nods in response to things she doesn’t fully hear.

because in her mind, she’s still standing at the top of the basement stairs.

she had promised chae-eun they would go back tonight.

but now, in the light of day, with the warmth of the café wrapping around her like a blanket, the weight of that decision presses down on her harder than before.

what the hell am i doing?

she shouldn’t be doing this.

she should leave it alone.

she should take the money from her grandparents’ will, sell the damn house, and forget any of this ever happened.

but she can’t.

because something inside her is screaming.

this isn’t just a locked door.

this isn’t just a family secret.

this is bigger.

this is wrong.

and she needs to know why.

she grips her pen a little too tight.

tonight.

she’s going back tonight.

the café slows down after the morning rush, the lull settling in like a warm haze. myah leans against the counter, staring blankly at the espresso machine, her thoughts far from where they should be.

kai, ever observant, picks up on it instantly.

“so,” he starts, wiping down the counter with slow, deliberate movements. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or do i have to beat it out of you?”

myah snorts, finally dragging her gaze to him. “you? beat me up? i’d like to see you try.”

kai raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “don’t test me. you may be scrappy, but i have claws.”

“oh, terrifying.”

kai just flicks his tail, watching her carefully. “seriously, though. you’ve been weird all day. and before you say it, no, it’s not just the whole ‘dead grandparents’ thing.”

myah rolls her eyes. “wow. so sensitive.”

he shrugs. “i’m just saying. grief doesn’t make you jump every time the door opens.”

she stills for a fraction of a second. too quick for most people to catch.

but kai isn’t most people.

his ears twitch, golden eyes narrowing. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”

she exhales through her nose, turning to grab a rag just to have something to do with her hands. “it’s nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“just drop it, kai.”

he leans forward, voice dropping just slightly. “nah, see, here’s the thing, i would drop it, if i thought it was actually nothing. but it’s not.”

she clenches her jaw, scrubbing harder at an already-clean spot on the counter.

kai watches her, unimpressed.

“you don’t get like this, myah.” his voice is softer now, but still firm. “you don’t get jumpy. and you sure as hell don’t lie this badly unless something is really wrong.”

she doesn’t respond.

kai sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i get it. i don’t know exactly what’s going on, but i know you. and i know that whatever this is? you’re not handling it well.”

myah exhales, gripping the rag tightly. “thanks for the vote of confidence.”

kai huffs a quiet laugh. “it’s a compliment, dumbass. you usually handle shit way better than this. but right now?” he tilts his head. “you look like you’re being hunted.”

her breath catches.

kai notices.

his eyes darken, ears pressing back slightly.

kai watches her carefully, his gaze sharp, assessing, as if he’s peeling her apart piece by piece, searching for the cracks.

“myah,” he says carefully, voice steady but edged with something hard. “is someone messing with you?”

“no,” she says immediately.

too immediately.

kai’s ears twitch, his tail flicking once behind him. He leans in just a fraction, voice dropping lower.

“is it… them?”

her breath hitches.

her fingers tighten around the rag in her hands, gripping the fabric like it can ground her.

she forces her face into something blank. neutral. “who’s them?”

kai’s jaw ticks, his expression darkening.

“you know who.”

her stomach drops.

because she does know.

hybrids.

but not just any hybrids, the wrong kind.

the ones who don’t care about peace, who don’t care about living alongside humans. the ones who see people like her as nothing more than prey, as something weaker.

and before she can stop it the memory floods back.

the alley behind the café.

cold air.

damp pavement.

the dull hum of streetlights buzzing above.a shadow moving too fast, cutting her off before she could react.

the scent of cigarette smoke and something wilder, thicker, muskier, something animal.

a hand, claws just barely extended, catching her wrist with an almost lazy grip.

“you should be careful walking alone, sweetheart,” the hybrid had murmured, voice deep and edged with amusement. “someone might take advantage of that.”

her stomach had twisted. she’d tried to pull back, but his grip tightened, claws pressing just enough to threaten.

there had been more of them.

leaning against the alley walls, watching. waiting.

she had felt their eyes rake over her, assessing.

like they were bored, like they were waiting to see what she’d do, how much fight she had in her before they decided whether she was worth the effort.

she remembers her pulse roaring in her ears.

remembers the way she opened her mouth, about to say something, anything, but she hadn’t needed to.

“let her go.”

kai’s voice.

low. steady. deadly.

she remembers the shift in the air.

remembers the way the hybrid’s fingers twitched against her skin before his lips curled, like he’d just been handed something fun.

“what’s it to you, fox?”

kai had taken a single step forward.

not fast. not aggressive.

just final.

“i won’t ask again.”

his ears had been pinned back, tail low, muscles tight beneath his work uniform. but his eyes,

his eyes had burned.

the hybrid holding her had exhaled through his nose, amusement curling at the edge of his mouth, but something else had flickered in his expression.

something wary.

something that said he knew better.

“tch,” he had muttered, clicking his tongue as he let her go. “no fun.”

the others had pushed off the walls, hands in their pockets, expressions unreadable as they walked away.

as if it had all been a game.

as if it hadn’t meant anything to them.

but myah, myah had felt sick.

her hands had shaken.

kai hadn’t said anything at first. just stood there, watching the end of the alley until the hybrids were completely gone.

“you good?”

and she’d hated that her voice had cracked when she answered.

“yeah.”

he hadn’t believed her.

but he hadn’t called her out on it, either.

he had just stepped forward, slipping his hoodie off and draping it over her shoulders before nodding toward the café’s back door.

“come inside.”

not go home.

not be more careful.

just come inside.

like he knew she wouldn’t be okay alone.

she had followed him without a word.

for weeks, kai followed her home after every shift. he never said anything about it, never made a big deal out of it, just walked a few steps behind her, hands stuffed in his pockets, tail flicking lazily like it was all coincidence.

he only stopped after myah, and an annoyed jisun who had wrinkled her nose and muttered something about “smelling too much fox” for her liking, finally forced him to.

but even then, he never really stopped.

he still called or texted her the moment she should’ve been home, a simple “you in?” or “alive?” showing up on her phone like clockwork.

and if she didn’t answer fast enough?

he was already dialing.

she forces the memory down, locking it back in the place she keeps all the things she doesn’t want to think about.

kai is still staring at her, his golden eyes dark and unreadable.

he thinks someone hurt her.

and if she lets him believe that, there’s no telling what he’ll do.

kai doesn’t talk about it often, but she knows he’s been in situations before.

situations where humans decided what his worth was before he could prove otherwise.

situations where he had to fight just to exist.

he’s never said it outright, but myah knows he fough to be here.

and now, with the tension laced through his body, the sharp edge to his voice,

he’s ready to fight again.

but he won’t be fighting them.

he’ll be fighting something else.

something she doesn’t even understand yet.

so she forces a breath, shaking her head. “no, kai. no one’s messing with me.”

his eyes search her face.

for a second, she thinks he’s going to call her out.

but then, finally, he exhales, leaning back slightly.

“fine.”

relief washes over her.

“but only for now.”

her stomach twists.

kai levels her with a look, his voice calm but unshakable.

“if something is going on, you tell me. got it?”

his tone leaves no room for argument.

myah hesitates before nodding.

“good,” he mutters, grabbing his cup and taking a long sip. “because if i find out you’re keeping something from me, i will find out on my own. and you won’t like how i do it.”

she snorts. “oh, please. what are you gonna do? sniff me out like a bloodhound?”

kai just grins, slow and sharp.

“don’t tempt me.”

the rest of the shift drags.

myah keeps herself busy, refilling coffee cups, wiping down tables, pretending she doesn’t feel kai’s gaze flicking toward her every few minutes. he doesn’t push her again, but she can tell he wants to.

yuna eventually ropes him into an argument about proper latte art technique, giving myah just enough breathing room to keep her thoughts from spiraling. but no matter how many drinks she makes or how many orders she takes, the weight in her chest doesn’t ease.

because she knows what’s coming.

what she’s choosing to do.

by the time her shift ends, the sky is dark, streetlights buzzing to life as she steps outside. the air is cold, crisp, carrying the scent of autumn and distant rain.

she exhales slowly, watching her breath curl in the night air.

chae-eun is waiting for her when she gets home, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her arms folded. she doesn’t ask if myah is ready. doesn’t ask if she’s changed her mind.

she just stands. grabs her jacket.

“let’s go.”

myah swallows hard.

and together, they walk out into the night.

back to the house.

back to whatever’s waiting in the basement.

the air feels different the second they step onto the property.

it’s subtle at first, nothing more than a feeling. an unnatural stillness pressing against their skin, crawling up myah’s spine like unseen fingers tracing along her back.

the house looms before them, massive and unwelcoming, its dark silhouette standing against the night sky like a sleeping beast. the windows are empty, blacked out, void of warmth. the porch, once a place of childhood memories, now feels hollow, stripped of anything that once made it home.

the only light comes from the dim glow of a lone streetlamp at the end of the driveway, its flickering bulb casting elongated shadows across the uneven path leading to the front door.

the trees sway with the wind, their skeletal branches reaching toward the house, stretching over the cracked stone walkway like grasping hands. the overgrown grass shifts in the breeze, but there is no sound. no rustling. no chirping of crickets.

just silence.

thick. suffocating. unnatural.

no cars pass in the distance. no hum of life exists beyond the front gate.

just the steady pounding of myah’s heart, the quiet press of chae-eun’s presence beside her.

neither of them speak.

there’s nothing to say.

they both know why they’re here.

myah’s fingers tighten around the key in her hand, the cool metal biting into her skin. her knuckles turn white, but she doesn’t loosen her grip.

she slides the key into the lock.

click.

the sound echoes too loudly in the quiet.

the door swings open with a low, aching creak, the kind that scrapes through her bones and sends a shudder crawling down her spine.

the air inside is thick, heavier than it should be.

dust lingers in the air, untouched, swirling lazily in the dim glow of the porch light spilling in from behind them. but beneath it, something else clings to the space. something old, something watching.

the scent of aged wood, forgotten memories, and the faintest trace of something metallic lingers at the edges of her senses, tugging at something deep, something unfamiliar.

she steps inside first.

the wooden floorboards groan beneath her weight, as if protesting her presence.

she flicks the light switch and the dim overhead bulb stutters to life, flickering weakly before settling into a dull, yellow glow, causing long shadows to stretch along the walls, warping the edges of the furniture, turning familiar shapes into twisted, unrecognizable figures.

chae-eun exhales, glancing around with sharp, calculating eyes. her nose wrinkles slightly. “it smells old.”

myah huffs out a quiet, humorless laugh. “it is old.”

chae-eun shoots her a look, unimpressed, but doesn’t argue. instead, she takes a few careful steps deeper into the house, scanning the dimly lit space with the kind of awareness that comes from knowing when something isn’t right.

her fingers trail lightly over the edge of a dusty side table, her movements slow, deliberate.

“nothing feels off yet,” she mutters.

but myah knows better.

the whole house feels off.

it always has.

even as a child, when she’d spent years running up and down these halls, curling up on the worn out couch, peeking into rooms she was never supposed to enter, there had always been something off, something there, lurking beneath the surface, something she could never quite name.

and now, standing here as an adult, the weight of it is even heavier.

she doesn’t realize she’s gripping the fabric of her jacket until chae-eun’s voice pulls her back.

“where’s the basement?”

the question slides down her spine like ice.

myah swallows.

her body moves before her mind catches up, turning toward the back of the house.

the hallway stretches before her, long and narrow, the floorboards creaking under her steps as she moves.

she doesn’t want to say it.

the words come anyway, low and quiet.

“this way.”

they move through the house, past the parts of the house that had once been familiar, towards the kitchen. a place myah had never questioned growing up.

but she questions it now.

the air is heavier, thicker, settling into the walls, into the floorboards, into the bones of the house itself.

every step she takes feels wrong.

as if she’s moving toward something that doesn’t want to, no shouldn’t, be found.

she stops in front of the hidden panel.

it looks like nothing. the wood is slightly discolored, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

her fingers twitch.

she crouches down, pressing her fingertips against the edges, feeling the grooves worn into the wood.

the panel gives under her touch, lifting with barely any effort.

the moment it opens cold air rushes up from the dark.

it hits her skin like something alive, crawling up her spine, sinking into her clothes, wrapping around her throat like a second pair of hands.

chae-eun inhales sharply, stepping back just slightly.

“well,” she mutters, staring down at the darkened stairwell. “that’s not ominous at all.”

myah forces a breath past her lips, but it doesn’t steady her.

she flicks on the flashlight on her phone and aims it downward.

the beam of light barely cuts through the blackness.

the stairs stretch below them, old and uneven, leading into narrow stone walls that seem to tighten the deeper they go.

she doesn’t want to do this.

her entire body is screaming at her not to do this.

but she has to.

so she swallows, forcing herself to glance at chae-eun.

“ready?”

chae-eun gives her a dry look, arms crossed, brow raised.

“not even remotely.”

but she steps forward anyway.

because they both know,

it doesn’t matter if they’re ready.

they’re going down there regardless.

a sharp noise, something between a tap and a thump, drags jimin from the edges of sleep.

he groans, shifting onto his side, his tail curling lazily around his waist. "why," he mutters, voice thick with drowsiness. "let me die in peace."

from the next cage over, hoseok clicks his tongue, the sound carrying through the quiet. "because she’s back."

jimin doesn’t move at first, letting the words settle in the air between them, the weight of them pressing against his skin like a slow-building heat.

then, finally, he inhales.

his pupils dilate, nose twitching as he catches it,

her.

it’s faint but unmistakable, threading through the damp, rusted scent of their prison.

his lips curl, slow and knowing.

"well," he sighs, stretching his arms above his head before settling back against the cold bars. "that is interesting."

the others are already awake.

jungkook, closest to the door, is sitting up, muscles tense, tail flicking in short, sharp motions.

taehyung’s golden eyes gleam in the dark, fingers curled loosely around the bars of his cage.

yoongi doesn’t speak, but his attention is fixed on the door, focusing on the noise coming from the stairwell above them, his stillness more dangerous than any movement.

namjoon is the first to break the silence.

“she’s come back.”

the words settle over them, quiet but heavy.

jimin hums, stretching his arms over his head, slow and deliberate.

“i told you she would.”

seokjin’s tail flicks in mild amusement. “for once, you were right.”

jungkook exhales sharply, but there’s something unreadable in his expression.

“what do we do?” hoseok asks, tilting his head toward namjoon.

the lion hybrid doesn’t answer right away.

instead, he leans back against the bars, eyes still locked on the unseen presence above them, the scent of her curling through the air like a silent invitation.

“we wait,” he finally says.

jungkook’s jaw tightens.

“for what?”

namjoon’s golden eyes gleam.

“for her to come to us.”

jungkook scoffs, shifting where he sits, his golden eyes flickering toward the ceiling. "and if she doesn't?"

"she will," yoongi murmurs, voice smooth, confident. he’s still lounging against the bars, but his gaze is sharp, locked on the stairwell.

"you sound sure." hoseok tilts his head, watching him carefully.

yoongi's lips curl, slow and knowing. "because she hesitated last time."

silence.

jungkook's tail flicks in irritation, but he doesn’t argue.

because yoongi is right.

she had come close enough to hear them. close enough to feel them.

but she hadn’t run. not completely.

and now, she was back.

"so, what?" taehyung drawls, dragging his fingers along the rusted bars of his cage. "we sit here like obedient little pets and wait for her to decide what to do with us?"

"we make it easy for her," seokjin corrects, adjusting his position, his silver hair catching the dim light. "she’s already curious. we just have to nudge her in the right direction."

jimin hums in agreement, stretching his arms above his head before settling back against the bars. "if she’s come back, that means she wants answers."

"then we give them to her," namjoon says simply.

jungkook scoffs. "we lie to her, you mean."

namjoon shrugs, expression unreadable. "we tell her what she needs to hear."

hoseok exhales, running a hand through his golden-brown hair. “and if she panics?”

"then we convince her that panicking is the wrong choice," jimin murmurs, a small smile playing at his lips.

jungkook's tail flicks again, restless. "and if she never opens the damn cages?"

silence.

no one moves.

no one speaks.

because that,

that is the real question.

"then we wait," namjoon finally says.

yoongi smirks, tilting his head. “and if waiting isn’t enough?”

namjoon’s golden eyes glint in the dark.

"then we make her open them."

chae-eun doesn’t hesitate. she follows myah down without a word.

the wood panel creaks shut behind them, causing the air to shift.

it feels colder.

heavier.

the stairwell is narrow, the old wooden steps groaning beneath their weight as they descend. dust clings to the air, swirling lazily in the beam of myah’s phone flashlight, but beneath it,

something else.

something damp. metallic.

it sits thick in her throat, sharp and coppery, like blood left too long in the air.

she swallows against it, tightening her grip on her phone.

behind her, chae-eun moves carefully, her footsteps steady, but myah can hear the slight hitch in her breath.

she feels it too.

the wrongness.

the weight pressing in on them the deeper they go, wrapping around their limbs like unseen hands.

the walls seem closer than they should be, the stone damp with time, with something else.

the further down they go, the worse it gets.

when they finally reach the bottom, myah hesitates.

the light from her phone flickers over the basement,

old shelves, their contents buried beneath years of dust. stacks of papers, curled at the edges, ink faded. rusted tools, their original purpose lost to time, but sharp in all the wrong places.

her stomach twists.

but it’s not the table in the center of the room, scarred with deep scratches, its surface warped with age, that makes her breath catch,

it’s the door.

thick metal, bolted shut.

waiting.

watching.

the second she lays eyes on it, her pulse roars in her ears.

her grip tightens around her phone.

her breath feels too loud in the silence.

chae-eun exhales sharply, her breath cutting through the thick silence. she takes a step closer, eyes sweeping over the room, over the dust-covered shelves, the rusted tools, the scattered papers that look like they haven’t been touched in years.

then, finally, her gaze lands on the door.

her brows pull together. “what is this place?”

myah forces herself to swallow, her throat dry. she doesn’t take her eyes off the heavy metal slab in front of them.

"that’s the door," she says quietly.

chae-eun’s lips press into a thin line. "yeah, i see that, but what the hell is it doing down here?"

myah exhales, forcing herself to look away. her heart is still hammering against her ribs, but the door remains silent.

no scraping.

no breathing.

just stillness.

like it’s waiting.

for what, she doesn’t know.

"i don’t know," myah admits, turning toward one of the shelves, running a hand over the thick layer of dust. "but whatever this place was, my grandparents didn’t want anyone finding it."

chae-eun moves toward the wooden table in the center of the room, dragging her fingers along the deep grooves scratched into the surface.

"these marks…" she trails off, inspecting them closer. "they’re everywhere."

myah forces herself to step closer. she hadn’t wanted to look too hard before—hadn’t wanted to think about what could have made them.

but now, standing over the table, she can see it clearly.

deep, uneven claw marks, carving into the wood like someone, something, had been desperate.

the same kind of scratches she had seen on the door upstairs.

a chill runs down her spine.

"you think they kept animals down here?" chae-eun asks, voice quieter now, more careful.

myah doesn’t answer right away.

because no.

no, she doesn’t think this was for animals.

not normal ones, anyway.

"i don’t know," she says again, shaking her head.

chae-eun exhales, stepping away from the table. she moves toward the far side of the room, where a rusted filing cabinet stands against the wall, barely holding itself together.

"there has to be something down here," she mutters, pulling one of the drawers open. "some kind of record, something that explains what this place is."

the drawer groans as it slides out, and a few old folders slump to the side, their papers yellowed with age.

myah watches as chae-eun carefully picks one up, flipping it open.

silence hangs between them as she scans the page.

then, slowly, she frowns.

"what?" myah asks.

chae-eun’s fingers tighten around the folder. "these aren’t just random records." she turns the page, eyes narrowing. "they're logs. someone was keeping track of something."

myah steps closer, peering over her shoulder.

the handwriting was neat and structured, every entry dated.

but the details,

the details are what make her stomach churn.

"‘specimen five: increased aggression. requires further restraint.’" chae-eun reads aloud, her voice flat. she flips another page. "‘specimen two: attempts at communication remain unsuccessful.’"

myah feels cold.

she swallows.

"they weren’t keeping animals down here," she murmurs.

chae-eun looks up at her.

her grip on the folder tightens.

"no," she says, voice barely above a whisper.

"they weren’t."

chae-eun flips through more of the pages, her fingers moving quickly, her breathing steady but sharp-edged. myah watches the flicker of her eyes as she scans line after line, absorbing information, but her face gives nothing away.

instead, it’s the way her jaw tightens, the way her fingers press just a little too hard into the paper, like she doesn’t want to believe what she’s reading, but she can’t ignore it.

myah swallows. her own hands feel clammy.

"what else does it say?" her voice is quiet, but the words feel too loud in the thick silence of the basement.

chae-eun flips another page. her lips part slightly as her eyes dart over the text, scanning, searching, then she freezes.

her breath hitches.

myah’s stomach drops.

"what?" she demands. "what is it?"

chae-eun says nothing.

she just turns the folder so myah can see.

myah’s eyes skim the page, past the dated entry, past the detailed notes, until she lands on a single line, a name she never expected to see here.

takahashi.

her entire body goes cold.

"no," she whispers.

but it’s there.

clear. undeniable.

a log. a record.

underneath the name, written in precise, clinical handwriting,

status: containment successful.

myah's pulse pounds in her ears.

"they—" she chokes on the word. her thoughts are racing, crashing into each other, a tangled mess of confusion and something worse.

her grandparents, her family, had kept records like this?

"myah," chae-eun's voice is firm, grounding. "you need to breathe."

but she can’t.

because this changes everything.

she thought this was just a locked door.

just another secret buried in the foundation of the house.

but this?

this is proof.

proof that her grandparents weren’t just hiding something.

they were documenting it.

tracking it.

and whatever was behind that door,

it had a status update.

which means,

it’s still here.

the realization slams into her like a punch to the gut.

she stumbles back, her shoulder hitting the edge of the wooden table, her fingers gripping the surface as she tries to steady herself.

chae-eun closes the folder with a snap.

"we need to leave," she says, her voice sharp, urgent. "now."

but before myah can respond,

click.

a sound, low and metallic.

the unmistakable noise of a lock shifting.

something behind the door, the heavy metal one sealed shut,

just moved.

the air thickens.

neither of them breathe.

a long, stretching silence,

then, scratch.

slow. deliberate.

something dragging across the metal.

myah’s blood turns to ice.

"we’re leaving," chae-eun says again, grabbing myah’s wrist this time, pulling her toward the stairs.

but myah can’t move.

because this time,

this time, it isn’t just the scratching.

this time there’s a voice.

low. smooth. barely a whisper, but unmistakably human.

"is someone there?"

authors note: i apologize for how long this took for me to get out, i rewrote this part like seven different times and nothing really felt right until this version. im already working on the next chapter and let me just say its about to be really interesting 🫣 anyways who do you guys think was the voice on the other side of the door???

taglist: @moonxxlover @sassy-snassy @kameko-ko @jnghs @captainhoook @yoonjoongles @canarystwin @sathom013 @gracefulsakura98 @jungshaking @haileyisboring @pookieb99 @starlight-1010 @svnbangtansworld @ihatesnakeu7 @dachshunddame @iyeeeverydee @multifandomfreakster-blog @peachmarien @dawnzephyr @ukndtwme @steddie-steddie @plainoldalexis @vantelover07 @justasadb1tch @seomta

join taglist!

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btsydtrash · 7 months ago

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Ego [9]

mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe

Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.

What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?

What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?

Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 1.8k

AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.

(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )

trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!

“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”

The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.

You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”

And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.

It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.

They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.

The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.

Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.

You knew who it was.

He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.

You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head.

Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.

It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.

You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.

“YN…?”

Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.

He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”

You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.

No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”

Another sigh.

He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”

A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.

Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.

“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”

He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.

“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”

His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?

“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”

The thought alone makes you snort.

He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.

“You laughed, Pretty.”

You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.

“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”

You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.

He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”

Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Please, don’t cry.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.

“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”

You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.

////

Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”

Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”

Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”

He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.

“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”

“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”

“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.

Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”

Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”

Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.

Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”

Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.

“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”

Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.

It just started getting good, too.

- end -

Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)

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hamburgerndsprite · 10 days ago

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Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Masterlist

Note: Hello everyone! When I first started creating a fic recs list, I wasn't sure how to go about it. However, I now have numerous lists filled with incredible fics that are nothing short of masterpieces. Looking back, I'm really glad I took the time to do this. I've forgotten many of the fics I read, and revisiting them felt like coming home. I've been on Tumblr for quite some time and have collected some true treasures that I’d like to share with you all. The authors on this platform are extremely talented, and I hope you appreciate and love these fics, as well as the authors behind them, as much as I do! All the lists includes fic recs of all members including ot7 fics. I’ll keep updating the lists as I discover more fics. Additionally, I have edited all the mood boards myself, so I kindly ask that you do not repost them as your own. Thank you!

➳ Part 1

➳ Part 2

➳ Part 3

➳ Part 4

➳ Part 5

➳ Part 6

➳ Part 7

➳ Part 8

➳ Part 9

➳ Part 10

➳ Part 11

➳ Part 12

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therealmintedmango · 5 months ago

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Cerberus - Part Four

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual Romance/ Smut

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 8,746

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Yandere Vibes; Blood; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Dark Dreams; Non-consensual touching/being touched without consent; Men who pray on women when they are vulnerable

Tag List: (Please notify me if you wish to be added/ no longer want to be apart of the tag list!) @openup-yourmind, @deeepvibes, @xxsunny-side-upxx, @heoniebaby @applelovesposts, (Sorry I've I've missed anyone! It's been awhile!)

Cerberus Playlist — Apple Music (Let me know if you have a good song to add to the playlist and I’ll chuck it in there!)

A frightened yell ripped through the large estate, shattering the peaceful, quiet evening like fragile glass thrown against a wall. The blood-curdling scream stopped all the brothers in their mundane tracks for the evening while they all were sitting in the parlor.

Taehyung flicked his paintbrush down on his wooden easel, flecks of green splattering across his canvas, a deep growl of confusion emitting from his throat. Hoseok snapped the book he was reading about hunting large game animals closed, eyes narrowing at the harrowing sound. An awful sour tone rang out, Yoongi’s long fingers slammed on the ivory keys of the piano as he stood abruptly.

A beat of silence ticked, stretching between the princes’, as realization set in.

“Little bird!” Seokjin yelped as he leapt from the news docket and the glass of brandy he was nursing all evening.

They take off into the house like dogs deep in the thick of the hunt. Their legs pushing into the carpet and marble of the home, scrambling for purchase against the ground. Snarls, whimpers, and growls echoed in the mansion as the brothers seemingly moved as one, thundering through their halls. The wolf-boys arms pushing them faster as their nails rake across wooden walls, shredding banisters in their wake. They feel like time is slowing, the clock is the enemy, pushing them back from the only thing they’ve cared about in what feels like ages.

In reality, they move like a flurry of hungry, wild beasts. The wolf brothers fly through their home with quick, superhuman strength. Worry and fright heighten their senses, a kaleidoscope of emotions changing every few milliseconds.

They needed to get to her. They needed to race her. They yipped and groaned, pushing, clawing their way to her room. Their wolf blood pulsing and flowing with fear scorching through their human forms.

Nails grew from deep within their human skin. Lips lifted, exposing their gleaming canines and bright pink gums as her room came into view. The prince’s wolf bodies rippled against the soft flesh of their mortal forms. The feral, wild hounds that they really are were threatening to escape as snarls and low growls toppled from their throats.

Malice, violence, something benevolent they all think as they enter her room unannounced. They wanted to choke, maim, take pleasure in killing something that would hurt her…Make her scream like that.

Seokjin enters first, throwing the wooden doors open. Normally he would knock but he hasn’t a clear thought, wanting to know what or who could have made their little bird react the way she did.

It’s eerie and quiet inside the guest living quarters.

The younger princes’ enter next. They pant, shake and sputter, drinking in the smell of sharp terror that hangs heavy in the air of her lavish room. The fire in the hearth is out, moonlight pools through her windows creating a dim glow to cascade across the room…Their mate is passed out in a cold sweat in her bed…

And their youngest brother was in the corner of their room looking utterly ashamed.

A gust of melancholy October wind hit the house, the fallen leaves rustling on the ground and in the trees outside. The windows rattled, the panes shuttered against the cold breeze howling against the walls of the mansion. Silence coated the room, hanging in the still air was the chill of fear from their mate and the scent of shame wafting from Jungkook.

It took the wolf-boys a beat longer until it finally clicked.

“What is wrong with you, Jungkook?” Seokjin remarks, lips peeling back, white teeth bared at the youngest brother. Rage flashing across his amber eyes. “Revealing your wolf form to her?”

“She was having a bad dream, hyung.” Jungkook sheepishly responded, shaking his head back and forth. “I wanted to be there for her when she woke up.” He bit his lip as he grabbed his cloak, covering his naked form. “She was terrified, hyung. I could smell it through the walls.”

“Poor thing.” Hoseok cooed as he placed a cool hand across her blazing forehead. His amber eyes roamed over her still face, drinking in every inch of her flushed flesh. Her hair pooled around her head on her pillow, wrapping herself in a halo of strands and tresses. Hoseok’s nostrils flared as his eyes reached her slightly parted mouth; her split lip she arrived with was almost completely healed.

How badly did Hoseok wish to press his lips into hers...

“What if she died on the spot, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked, standing next to Hoseok, watching her attentively. His voice shook with concern, his thick brows furrowed as he studied her like a beautiful painting. “She looks like she has seen a spirit!”

“I-I used my magic on her to make her forget seeing me and go back to sleep.” Jungkook then admitted in a soft, small voice.

Seokjin gasped softly.

Another egregious sin they were not supposed to use upon the poor mortal kind. Using their werewolf powers on a regular human was quite shameful. That was something that the creatures beyond the veil would do, nay, not the brothers that rule Bangtan.

“Magic?” Seokjin snapped and Hoseok yelped at the same time, sharing a look of anger and dismay, respectfully.

Yoongi heaved a heavy sigh, collapsing into a purple velvet armchair by the hearth of her fireplace. The second eldest licked the edges of his mouth, running his long fingers through his white hair in a defeated manner. “Jungkook, we cannot shift in the mansion. You know how we all feel about this.”

Jungkook couldn’t meet his older brother's amber glare. “I know, hyung. I just—“

Without even looking at him, Taehyung and Yoongi both emitted low, warning growls, their voices deep and huskiest of the brothers. It was quite a scary duo to witness. Jungkook froze, his amber eyes sliding to the ground in obedience.

Pack order, as well as family dynamic, was something that was established, but changed from time to time. In this room right now, the order was Yoongi, Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, then Jungkook. When all the princes were together, the order was usually eldest to youngest, though that was challenged by Taehyung and Namjoon often. However, Seokjin never failed to be at the top of the pecking order normally due to his birthright.

“No ‘hyung’ this or that.” Yoongi snarled, head hanging as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, speaking directly to the cold ground beneath his feet. “You shifted…then got scared when she screamed at the sight of your wolf form, so you made her pass back out with your magic!” He got up then, pounded over to the youngest brother and single handedly picked Jungkook up off the floor by his robes. “Why were you in her room in the first place, huh?” The second eldest’s eyes were ablaze, fury seeping out of his pores as he searched the youngest’s own fearful orbs.

Yoongi had already reprimanded Namjoon today. Tensions were on high alert today because of that. He was so fond of all his kin, he hated being the villain, the bad part about their day. Seokjin and himself very much had to play parent because theirs have since passed.

“I’m going utterly insane, hyung…” Was all Jungkook could muster before Yoongi let out another deep sigh, his free hand rifling through his white locks.

“I know.” Yoongi admitted, releasing him gently. Yoongi agreed, solemnly nodding, the fire extinguishing from his words and his sunset colored eyes. His gaze traveled to the lovely young lady in their guest room who they worshipped the ground she walked on. His nostrils flared, “We all are, Jungkook…we all are.”

———-

Soft, featherlight touches upon my cheek roused me from my slumber. Though I remember fainting, I cannot recall why that occurred. Blinking slowly, I opened my eyes only to see rich amber-coloured orbs peering down at me in the flickering candlelight. Pushing the sheets away, I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my weary eyes. I wasn’t fully awake nor was I registering who was in my room with me in this present moment. The air around me was thick, laced with anticipation and it smelt of fresh linen and morning dew. I stopped moving at once and drank in the human sitting opposite of myself.

Prince Jungkook.

My mind started to race with questions. Why was he here? In my room? What time was it? His eyes widened as I stared at him. “Little bird-“

“Prince Jungkook.” I clutch the sheets to cover my chest, my cheeks flushing a bright red hue. Jungkook looked completely sheepish as an innocent gleam flashing across his amber eyes. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” He sheepishly looked down and away from me. “One of the hunting dogs became loose in the castle, found its way into your room and gave you quite a scare.… I think.” The youngest prince runs a hand through his curly, richly-colored locks, sliding his palm down to stroke the side of his neck. “I do not wish to frighten you or have you think ill of me, as I know a young lady should never be unattended without a chaperone…” Jungkook turns the complete opposite direction of me, looking toward the foot of the bed. “It was my turn to put the hounds away and I utterly failed.” Jungkook solemnly looks out the window, his tone grim. “I’m deeply sorry, Y/N.”

My heart cracks into little pieces.

Prince Jungkook reminds me of my brother Chan at this moment. So sweet and earnest, never truly meaning to harm anyone, a wash of teasing in his tone. He was all but sass and silliness, but he would never bite--lest not bite me.

My stomach lurches at the memory of my brother.

I lightly touch Jungkook’s shoulder to steady my spiraling thoughts of my family I left not long ago. I lean into the young prince and whisper, “Do not feel ashamed, Prince Jungkook.” He whips his head back around to look at me with his bright, amber eyes. His lips part while his eyes appear glassy in the soft glow from the morning light flickering through the sheer curtains.

Prince Jungkook opens and closes his mouth several times, reminiscent of a fish gasping for air once plucked from water. His amber eyes flit from my own eyes to my extended hand on his shoulder. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and gets up off my bed in a fluid movement. He bows deeply and silently exits my room in the blink of an eye.

And like the breathing out of a candle, he is gone in an instant.

I look to the end of the bed, a small shudder skates down my spine, a chill of ice flows through my veins, my teeth chatter. That hound from last night was utterly frightening. Its glowing eyes, its huge body, curled up by my feet…I can still feel its eyes upon me, raking over my flesh as if it was cognizant, searching my features as if it was a real person…

“That’s impossible…” I whisper to myself, pulling the covers up over myself, turning to the other side of the plush bed. “A hound cannot possibly be a person!” A chuckle leaves my lips as I nod into my pillow, rationalizing that magic isn’t real and I should probably see a doctor before someone claims I am mad. “What utter nonsense.”

“You' been having bad dreams, Miss?” Sophia asks me, worry clouding her features as she helps me get ready for the day. Lacy, Sophia’s sister, braids the other side of my hair, twisting and folding my locks to look perfect. This is the trend for young girls my age right now--or so they tell me.

“A few,” I sheepishly admit, shrugging my shoulders. “Can you tell?”

“Jus’ look like you’ seen a ghost, tis’ all.” Lacy worries her brow as she works on the other side of my locks, preparing me for the day. “Tis’ the time of year for goblins and demons and other creatures from the realm below to run amuck on Earth.”

A small snort leaves my nostrils. “You two don’t believe that,” I say as I study them in the mirror behind me, “...Do you?” They share a look behind me, adding the finishing touches to my hair with their long, hard working hands. My heart sinks into the pit of my empty stomach. I know that sibling look.

They know something I do not.

“You’ feel it right, Miss?” Lacy whispers, stepping back, gathering her skirts as she turns and walks out the door. “This time of the year especially.”

“There are strange things that happen ere’ every day, Miss.” Sophia nods, doing the same as her sister. “But this time of year…” She trails off, looking at the portrait of the prince’s with amber eyes, “is dangerous…even for people they consider family.” She whips around suddenly, throwing me a cautious, soft smile.“Best keep a watchful gaze in front as well as behind you during this time of year, Miss.”

The door announces it is shut with a small click and I am all alone in this big, wide room.

I look at the painting she was giving the oddest glance at. Sophia was wistful, yet apprehensive in her stare which was odd for her. Lacy and Sophia were usually very warm(and a little neurotic), but maybe they heard me scream last night and I spooked them with some local superstition or something? I get up from the vanity to study the painting a little closer, moving to stand in front of the hearth, looking at the enormous canvas stretched almost the eternity of the wall. The prince’s golden eyes shine and sparkle under the warm morning glow that hits the painting perfectly. They all look so regal, so handsome and yet, so mysterious at the same time, hanging over the hearth just so.

Something catches my eye. My gaze narrows, squinting as I see the tiny, orange and black butterfly in the corner of the painting.

I slowly realize as a thought fills my mind, my eyes widening. “...Just like the one I saw in the garden-”

A knock sounds at my door. “Little Bird?” Prince Hoseok’s voice filters through the wood, startling me from my thoughts.

“Y-Yes?” I stammer, collecting my dress in my fists to move to the door quicker. “Yes, Prince Hoseok?” I ask, opening the wooden frame with a small smile on my lips.

“Good morning, Little Bird.” The cheery, red-headed prince, bowing slightly. He was already dressed to the nines in his gray wool day suit. The princes’ all dressed handsomely, but I do have a thought that Hoseok and Taehyung sport the most trendy and interesting colors and pieces out of all the princes. “I hope I am not disturbing you, but Jungkook informed us of the-” he pauses, looking for the correct word, his amber eyes roaming my face as he does so. “-incident that occurred last evening.” His eyes seem to flash with acute anger for a split second. “We have all come to the conclusion that we would not want you to be unaccompanied today, if that is quite alright with you?”

His hand extends to mine and I take it almost right away, leaving the comfort of my room.

“Good girl,” Hoseok purrs softly so only I can hear as he loops my arm to intertwine with his. A jolt of lighting rushes to my nether region and I know my eyes expand at the feeling. That has never happened to me before. It excited me, however, it also made me feel a small speck of terror stewing in my guts. “Right-o! Shall we?” He happily carried on as if I wasn't going through an internal crisis at this very moment.

“Ye-yes.” I squeak.

Hoseok began to walk me down to the dinning hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the mansion. The prince quipped to me about how he wanted to dance with me right away at the ball as it was one of his favorite activities after hunting.

Once Prince Hoseok and I stepped down onto the main floor from the grand staircase, the large house seemingly exploded with a flurry of hurry and mild panic. Maids and butlers ran to and fro, the service staff were almost fully complete with their ritual of turning the lavish home into one of pure royalty and splendor. One day more and the Harvest Moon Ball shall be hosted in the Bangtan Castle. Everyone has been in such a state of hustle and bustle, it was making me a little dizzy watching them shuffle around the marbled floor!

The staff look like worker bees, buzzing about the hive, making it the most spectacular ball I have ever laid my eyes upon. Which might not be saying much as my father never threw such parties and gatherings. He hated that sort of frivolity.

I thought of my beautiful dress Prince Seokjin had carefully crafted for me and sighed. “I am very delighted I can take part in the ball tomorrow.” I said as beautiful flowers from Jimin’s garden came through in huge golden vases by the tens of hundreds. The fragrant, colorful plumages needed two or more gentlemen of the Bangtan kingdom staff to carry them as the ornate containers appeared rather cumbersome to tout around.

A wolfish grin spread across Hoseok’s face and he watched her with hungry, ravenous eyes while she took in the wealth and glamor that they have worked tirelessly to transform their den into. “We are too, Little Bird…We are too.”

Breakfast was simple: sweet fruit, perfectly cooked porridge, crispy bacon, and fluffy eggs. The options were less plentiful then when I first arrived, but I imagine the staff very obviously had their hands full and they were busy attending and preparing other facets of the mansion. And rightfully so. A ball seems like it takes weeks, if not months, to prepare for.

And now I am an extra burden for the brothers to shoulder.

I must give them my thanks tomorrow. I did not have a lot to give them nor do I believe they are hurting or could ever want anything more. They live a comfortable life, or so it seems. I ponder as I chew my food all the ways that I could thank them as only Hoseok and Seokjin eat beside me. All the other brothers had their hands full with the impending ball happening tomorrow eve.

I scanned the table as I watched the two princes nourish themselves for the day. Seokjin ate slowly as he read the news docket, his amber eyes roaming row by row, drinking in what he was reading. Hoseok scooped porridge into his mouth quickly and snatched more bacon off his plate, wolfing down his meal as it would be his last. He didn’t eat like a child or like a brute, he just consumed his meal with haste and less tack than his oldest brother.

It was peaceful. Even with so much movement happening throughout the castle, the dining hall was calm, the demeanor of the room was quite content. I am happy I think to myself, basking in the glow of autumn sun pouring in from the windows. I inhale deeply as I set my teacup down which earns me glances from both princes.

“Everything alright, Little Bird?” Seokjin simpered, amber eyes gazing at me over the black and white folded paper.

“Oh, yes, indeed!” I exclaim as the dining staff start clearing away the fine china in front of me. “I was just thinking about how content and happy I am.” I smile at him and Hoseok at the head of the table. “It is the first time I have felt like this in a long while.”

They both smile with warmth and adoration. The prince's grins are genuine, which made my own smile spread across my lips. A thought from this morning crossed my mind and I uttered the question without thinking. “I have a question, if you both don’t mind?”

They nod in tandem, Hoseok finishing the food on his plate finally. Seokjin folded the docket and set it down on the table beside his teacup.

“Well, uh-” Nervousness flooded through me, their bright eyes watching me with anticipation made my heart skip a beat. “I was studying the lovely portrait of you all in my room. And I couldn’t help but notice a small butterfly in the corner like a signature an artist gives…” Their faces fell as I continued. “And I saw a monarch butterfly in the garden and wanted to know, I suppose, if your family has a connection to butterflies in some manner?”

“You what?” Hoseok choked, panicked in his query as he coughed and beat his chest with vigor.

“Are you sure you saw a butterfly?” Seokjin asked me in alarm as he stood from his seat. “An orange and black butterfly?”

I became puzzled. “Ye-Yes?” I questioned, glancing between the two brothers as they stare at me with shock, worry coloring their handsome features.

“We do not have butterflies in Bangtan.” Seokjin spoke in a grave manner, approaching me with slow steps. His golden, amber eyes were the size of dinner saucers, looking down at me. I have never seen him behave in such a way. I fear I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time, shattering the peaceful and tranquil morning in the dining hall with my stupid question.

I spoil everything.

“They are a bad omen here,” Hoseok stood, walking over to join Seokjin, staring grimly into my orbs. I have rarely seen Hoseok not smile and it was a sight I wished not to see again. His smile was one of my favorite things about him. “Butterflies are the harbingers of death and destruction.”

An eerie feeling like I was being watched spread across my body, just like in the garden, causing a shiver to climb its way down my spine. I fret I truly made a mistake bringing this up to the princes. My raw questioning and curiosity has gotten the better of me once more. I felt like this was a rabbit hole I did not want to dig around in, lest I fall in.

BAM!

“Seokjin-hyung! Hobi-hyung!” Jimin cried, flying through the dining hall door, worry and terror clouding his pale face as he puffed, out of breath, “He is here early!”

I whip around behind me to the cause of the noise and see the silver-locked prince shaking. He appeared disheveled in his haste to get to the dining hall as quick as a crack of lightning. Jimin’s always perfect hair was out of place, his breathing labored, and his legs wobbled as he scrambled for purchase, for support on the wooden door.

A low rumble leaves Hoseok’s throat now as he stands behind me. “How?” He hisses out through gritted teeth, his hot breath tickling the top of my braided locks.

“Are you certain?” Seokjin asks, all niceties gone from his tone.

“P-Positive, hyung.” Jimin clamored, knees buckling as he fell to the ground in a heap. Prince Jimin was as still as a statue then. No movement came from his lump of a body on the floor.

I lurch forward, my arms extending in concern toward the silver -haired prince on the ground. I was still, not daring to move as two strong, mighty hands held me back, gripping both shoulders so I could not move.

“Who is here?” I question in a whisper, not daring to move. The situation was dire it seemed. Jimin needed assistance, a mysterious guest had appeared and butterflies were quite a sore subject in the kingdom of Bangtan.

My peaceful morning was no more.

My ears perked at a hearty laugh that suddenly echoed through the halls. All the commotion happening in the halls seemed to die out, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. Time was slowing, melting around me as if I was trapped in molasses. A cold shiver radiated through my body making me rigid. My back burned but I still dare not move a muscle, still in the confines of the two prince’s grasp.

A black-gloved hand pushed through the frame of the door Jimin was slumped in front of. The two men behind me inhaled, holding their breath as the easement produced a man in orange and black riding leathers standing before us. The air was tense as this mysterious stranger floated through the door as if he owned the wind he strode through.

“Is this how you treat an esteemed guest?” His voice had an accent to it, definitely not from your kingdom or the one you’ve stumbled into. “And right before the ball too?” He grinned a devilish gleam as he made his way over to the three of you, which you all were as still as statues.

He flicked a strand of curly, dark brown hair back away from his face, his warm, chocolate gaze was locked onto the men behind you. This man was handsome. The type of man that would make women swoon and make men jealous. He was neither too large nor too short. He was neither too feminine nor too masculine looking. This stranger was a nearly perfect man, seemingly sculpted, handmade from the gods.

Though, you couldn’t help but think the princes’ would be the ideal personalities you’d like to be courted by...as if that would ever happen to someone like you…but, maybe one day.

Prince Seokjin and Hoseok were utterly quiet as this man fluidly strode toward the three of you.

“Thank you so much for the snack after the long journey.” The stranger continued, surveying the beautifully ornate dining hall. “Next time could you provide me with a virgin, you know how much I prefer them over--”

“Chris.” Seokjin practically snarled, disdain rolling off his tongue. “Why are you here?”

The man shrugged, his riding leathers crinkling, cracking the tense air around the lot of you. “You didn’t get my RSVP?” This Chris fellow tilted his head, smiling as he did so. “My creature said it found someone in the garden.”

“You. Are. Early.” Prince Seokjin said, ice dripping with every syllable he uttered. The Prince gripping my shoulder tightly glazed over Chris’s question. “Today is not a good day.”

“And you are uninvited until tomorrow.” Prince Hoseok growled over my other shoulder.

“Gentlemen, please.” Chris chuckled, plucking a strawberry from the tray of colorful fruit, examining it in his long fingers. “My brothers and I came to spend an evening with you, for old times sake.” His brown orbs glow red in the sunlight hitting his face in the dining hall windows.

“We do not have time to entertain guests until tomorrow, good sir. I suggest you leave.” I blurt out. I jump with the sound of my voice, startling myself.

I blush, flushing a crimson color I am sure, and look to the floor immediately. “We” I said...I do not truly live here. I am nothing more than a visitor here. What gives me the right, the gall, to say any of this at all?

“Is this your ward I’ve been hearing about?” Chris said, bending so our eyes could meet. “My, you are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” His nostrils expanded as he leaned down to stare into my orbs. At this angle they look ravenous, mad with desire or hunger…I cannot tell the difference nor do I wish to dwell upon the thought any longer. “Now, this is the type of snack, nay, meal I’ve been hunting for.”

My brows furrow as Chris’s devilishly playful grin deepens.

“Christopher Bangchan.” Prince Namjoon’s deep timbre cuts through the tense air. He helps pull prince Jimin to his feet as he comes-to. The silver-haired prince grabs his face in his hands, groaning like he just woke up from a long, restful slumber. “Let us talk in the parlor or library, perhaps. That way we do not disturb our ward any further.” Namjoon grins, dimples popping out of his cheeks and I swear I think swoon every time he so much as smirks at me. “Now, shall we? We have much to catch up on.” He steadies his younger brother like nothing even happened, righting him upright to his feet with a few pats on the back.

Jimin stands on his own two feet, however they wobble like a newborn calf. The prince finds the nearest chair and slumps over in it, giving a slight moan of pain as he does so.

I find Prince Namjoon’s amber-colored orbs and hope he can feel my many words of thanks and cunning praise I am sending him with my gaze. He gives a small wink in my direction, turning his back to the group of us and exits the dining hall. Christopher retreats with a salacious grin upon his face, gliding to follow behind silently.

A chill runs up my spine as his orbs flash red for a split second before he fully vanishes from view.

Another wash of awkward silence ticks, time seems to come back into focus for me. Birds chirp and chatter outside the windows, the staff chatter amongst themselves as they are hard at work preparing for the ball tomorrow. The world begins to spin again and I feel like I am coming out of a year-long slumber.

What an odd fellow. I think as I exhale a deep breath I never even realized I was holding. I shall try and stay clear of him tomorrow.

“Y/N…” Hoseok says, spinning me around. A large smile sat upon his face, gazing at me with so much adoration. “You can be quite the powder keg, can’t cha’?”

“My little bird.” Prince Seokjin strokes the side of my cheek with the back of his long, comforting hands. He looks at me with his kind, rich eyes. “Well done.”

I smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t know that talking rudely out of turn was deserving of so much praise, but nonetheless, I am happy once more. I am content with these brothers I have come to live with.

“But, please Little Bird…” Prince Seokjin furrows his brow, his smile slightly falling. “Please do not go anywhere unaccompanied without one of us from now on.” I’m sure I give him quite the puzzled expression as he continues. “The Harvest Moon Ball, while magnificent and splendid as it is, also brings with it some…unsavory characters to the castle. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Good.” He claps his hands. “Wonderful, wonderful, yes.” Prince Seokjin nods back to me. “Now, let us go fetch some things I need in town. I believe they should all be finished.”

“What about Prince Jimin?” I ponder, giving his brother a worrying glance. “Is he quite alright?”

“I have got him.” Hoseok exclaimed, walking over to the silver-haired prince and ruffled his hair about. “You two make sure the ball will be fantastic for tomorrow. I’ll manage things here.”

“Marvelous!” Seokjin took my hand in his and led me to the door as footmen rushed and worked to dress the oldest prince in his outside attire. “We have much to do in town, Y/N. Much to do, yes.”

There must have been an accident in the kitchen or maybe with a decoration? Several staff members were mopping and cleaning a giant spot of dark-colored liquid near the door. They always work so hard, I hope the princes give them enough time off. And especially after the Harvest Moon Ball. The substance was both liquid and gooey at the same moment; chunks of possible beef or pork were being scooped up with haste, the castle staff meticulously restoring the ground of the threshold of the grand entrance way. Did one of the staff drop a stew of beef on accident?

“Shall we wait for Paisley?” Another query finds my lips as we walk outside to the gleaming black carriage that was getting ready to go into town for the day. Two beautiful tawny work horses snorted, stamping their feet onto the ground, their hooves large and heavy in the mid-morning light. I noticed Jongbak was nowhere to be seen on this morning either, which was rather odd. He would do everything in his power to be in the presence of Paisley.

Seokjin paused, stilling his movements as a footman opened the door for both the prince and I. He was a few steps in front of me and I felt his aura darken with my question. My heart was beating wildly, trapped behind my sternum. I haven’t seen Paisley this morning…or come to think of it, last night Sophia and Lacy have been attending to me. They often rotated in their care of me, but it was not normal to go this long without seeing my friend.

“I am sorry that I didn’t inform you earlier,” Prince Seokjin walked to the carriage door, spinning on his heel, holding out his hand to assist me into the carriage. “Paisley is no longer with us.”

A small gasp climbs from my throat, my eyes widening with surprise. “You mean she left? She no longer works in the castle?” I find his gloved hand in mine as I step closer to the carriage door. He helps me climb into the wheeled device, seating on the other side of me as Sophia silently follows, sitting next to me with a grim expression on her face.

Seokjin shakes his head, a sheepish smile springing up upon his pillowy lips. “I’m afraid not, Little Bird…I’m afraid not.”

“Do you know where she went off to?” I query further. “I will miss her so!” Growing up with brothers was fantastic and I wouldn’t change it for the world, but in recent weeks I have grown close to Paisley, considering her akin to a sister to me. I felt utterly shameful. I didn't know she was planning to leave Bangtan Castle. I would have done everything in my power to make her stay.

Prince Seokjin shakes his head, his rich locks swaying with him as the carriage begins to move. “She didn’t say anything except I know she went somewhere far, far away.”

Riding into town, it was exceedingly calm and quiet today, which is out of the norm. Usually the village is swimming with life. Everyone outside, the shops full, restaurants buzzing with customers, the park always packed with lovely couples and families playing. The weather was not a deterrent as it was indeed chilly, but altogether sunny. I’d be remiss not to say that it was a beautiful autumn day!

Seokjin visited the butcher, which he told me was no place for a lady, so the Prince had me wait in the coach. Footmen carried crates full of items in glass, storing them above and below the carriage. I wished to know more about what was in the containers, but I held my tongue.

I had enough outbursts and speaking out of turn for the day, I thought.

Next, the carriage strode to an apothecary where Prince Seokjin let me pick a delightful, sweet yet mild tea. He said he was very fond of my choice. We received bundles of dried herbs, containers of what looked to be sludge, and colorful powders in vials. The prince paid the apothecary a hefty sum, a sack of coins exchanged for these small items seemed like the shopkeeper was ripping Seokjin off, but, no haggling was made, so I said not a word.

We stopped for tea and sandwiches in a restaurant which was inside of an enormous green house located in the heart of the town. Fragrant flowers, leafy green vines, and tall tropical plants inhabited the glass dome. The air was warm and the atmosphere was relaxing as we made polite conversation. There were only a small handful of other patrons in the dining hall, making it feel as if I was shouting to the prince sitting across the table from me.

“Y/N.” Seokjin addressing me by my name made my cheeks flush. I do hope he doesn’t notice, I shall just play it off if he does! The warm air in the greenhouse must be affecting me so! “Are you most excited for tomorrow's event?” Seokjin queried, finishing his meaty sandwich.

I nod, wiping my mouth with the edge of my napkin. “Indeed.” I smile at him. “I am most looking forward to wearing my sparkling, glittering gown Madam Hwasa has created for me in little-to-no time. My mind wanders away from itself as it thinks of the dressmaker pointing to the middle of my back, to the small, bird wings-like birthmark I’ve carried with me since I came into this world.

“I do hope you save me a dance, Little Bird.” Prince Seokjin purs, looking at me with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. I am sure my cheeks have only grown more pink by the minute. My fleshy center in between my legs jolts with electricity and I blink rapidly, trying to think about morphing away from my ever changing thoughts. “...Possibly two dances?”

I melt at his velvety, swoon-worthy words. “Y-Yes, of course.” I stammer.

“Good.” A wolfish grin spreads across the prince’s face. His amber eyes glint as he lightly touches the top of my hand. “Very good.

“Why the fuck are you here early, Chris?” Hoseok thunders, throwing the wooden library doors open. His amber orbs flash red, anger seething out of every pore. “Who invited you in?”

“The cute little maid with the freckles.” Chris stated, a coy smile on his lips. “She was quite the snack.” Chris smuggly looks over his glass of brandy. The outsider was sitting on the red velvet couch in the library, looking comfortable in his orange and black riding leathers.

“Monster.” Yoongi’s deep timbre growled, baring his pearly canine teeth. The brothers, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all stood facing the man adjacent to them, scowls on their faces, brows knit in frustration.

“Come now,” Chris chidded as Hoseok strode across the room, standing in the menacing line with his wolf brethren. “We cannot help what we are. You all should understand better than mortals, no?”

“There is a contract in place. You cannot harm one of our staff during the ball.” Namjoon frankly states.

“But, it is not quite time for the ball, now--is it?” Chris snickers.

“You never sent a calling card, which is something you are supposed to do as well.” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest, a loathsome attitude souring the merriment of today.

Chris gives a fake gasp, putting his free hand across his smirking mouth. “I did,” he said, feigning innocence, “my butterfly said someone saw it who lives in the castle.” He shrugs. “I thought you boys knew.”

“Y/N saw it, but she didn’t know it was one of your…creatures.” Hoseok sneered down at the man sitting down, sipping his brandy casually.

Yoongi slams his hands on the coffee table, splintering the wood on the cherry-wood table, sending pieces flying. Spittle flies from Yoongi’s peeled back lips, snarls erupting from his throat. “You are not welcome here this evening.” Prince Yoongi decides, the collection of wolf-men nod their heads in agreement.

“Tell me about your ward.” Chris chuckles, his accent coming out in full force now that he is becoming more comfortable, ignoring the question. “She is awfully pretty.” The wolf-brothers snarl, feral noises emitting from their lips. “Keeping her all to yourselves, huh?”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Think. About. It.” Jungkook riles, enunciating his words with dark, animalistic noises. His wolf form rippling under his human skin, threatening to burst free.

“Once you finish your drink, you need to leave.” Hoseok snaps. A darkened look glazing across his usually happy-go-lucky features.

A small snort leaves the stranger’s nostrils. “You haven’t marked your territory very well, boys.” Chris takes a small sip of his brown colored alcohol. “Anyone, or anything, could gobble her right up.”

“I’m going to get my hunting rifle.” Hoseok angrily says as he spins on his heel to retreat out of the library.

“I’ll go with you.” Namjoon agrees, his lip lifted in disgust.

“Alright, alright.” Chris stands, draining the last drops of the strong drink from his glass. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He stretches, smiling as his fangs poking out from his top lip, smiling at the angry group of wolf-men. He makes his way to the window, climbing through the frame, and disappearing into the daylight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His words echo in the library.

Hoseok lets out a wild howl, informing the pack what just happened here and who they need to watch out for.

The next day, I was told I should keep to the guest room as the princely brothers were very busy preparing for the ball happening this evening.

I was rather confused as to why. Did they not wish me at their side all the morrow? Do the princes not deem me fit to be in my company? Do the princes of Bangtan wish me not good enough company? Do they loathe me now for speaking out of turn yesterday?

In these moments, I deeply missed my brothers. I fear I would never be a solitary creature, preferring the company of many over being alone. I craved their smiling faces, their boisterous laughs, the way they teased me so.

I wondered about why I was in solitary confinement all morning while I ate breakfast of buttered toast, sausage, and eggs. My mind raced as I read through the latest news docket, my eyes scanning other the black and white text, never actually reading anything. I pondered as I was scrubbed from head to toe, being rubbed raw as if I was poultry, going to be prepared to be eaten as the ball later. Thoughts of confusion were all that hovered in my brain all morning and afternoon.

I couldn’t concentrate on anything. My mind is springing back and forth like a ball on a wire. And to top it off, my two attendants were no help to my restless mood.

Sophia and Lacy flit and flounce about the guest room, rushing in and out all day. They brought me breakfast, the news docket, and all other petty gossip that was brought up from downstairs. The women are usually on edge, but I have never seen the sisters in such an anxious state.

This just added to the tense air of the guest room, making me feel desperate to leave. I felt like a trapped, caged animal in this wide room the princes have provided for me. I felt both ungrateful and agitated with the same thought. I am grateful I have a place to live, a home that has welcomed me even though I am a complete stranger. However, I am rather displeased because they are telling me I need to be shut up in my room all day, never getting to help or see what the ball will look like. I felt as if I was in my role of little sister once more, being told what I can and couldn’t do. I feel like these thoughts were unfair, but true at the same time.

The only moments I was allowed some respite from my whirling thoughts and oppression room was when I needed to relieve myself.

Staring at myself in the mirror of a cold, private bathroom on the second floor where the guest room I stay in resides, I wonder why the princes have shut me out this morning. My brow wrinkles and I raise an arm to the ceiling, turning my head to my armpit. No, I don’t suppose I smell, but perhaps one's own smell doesn’t affect themselves?

I look rather odd, I think, clothed in a very casual and modest dress of thin, light blue colored silk. It was chilly this morning and I had chosen to skip wearing socks on my journey to the lavatory. I feel like I have rings under my eyes, sleep torturous from the nightmares of large wolves and dogs that meet me when I shut my eyes. I shall give my face a good wash before Sohpia and Lacy apply makeup the princes have purchased and wished for me to wear. It was almost time time for me to step into my beautiful-

Run.

I still, sucking in a breath. I was mid-rinse of my face with cold water, feeling a shiver run down my spine. A dreadful feeling was crawling down my back, making every hair on my body stand at attention. My body is crying out that I am in danger. My heart was beating quickly. I need to flee!

Water drips down my chin, as I hang over the marbled wash basin. I am too afraid to look up as I hear a shuffling sound behind me. I had not heard anyone come through the door and I was worried that the man from yesterday would be making another unexpected appearance. I gulp. I am alone. Sophia and Lacy are at the opposite end of the hall…Would they hear me if I screamed?

Would I even be able to scream?

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A smooth, buttery voice wafts from behind me. I jolt, though, still not brave enough to look up at the reflection in the mirror. A man’s voice. This was not the same accent the man, Chris, had from yesterday. This voice was new, more playful, more devious--if that was even possible. “Such a pretty ward.”

I should run. I plead with myself. I think about a few weeks ago, a scowl forming on my moist face. I am not helpless. I remember the red spray from my fathers wrinkly throat. I will not run anymore.

“This room is occupied” I say, not glancing up, my tone cold and not friendly. “Do you have no manners that you do not knock when a door is closed?”

“Oh-ho!” The man behind chuckles, his fingers lightly brushing across my exposed shoulder blades. I shudder. It felt like this man reached into my body and caressed my soul with a simple stroke of his warm fingertips. “You are a feisty one, aren’t you?”

“Who are you?” I clench my fist, whipping my head up, my fears dissipating with his jeer.

My eyes blew wide as I stare into the reflection, wildly looking behind me in the mirror. There was no one in this dimly lit, cold room. No, that’s not right. It can’t be. His fingertips trail down my clothed spine, the silk making it easy for him to trail down lower and lower. I have never been touched like this and I have never been touched without permission which makes me feel queasy.

“What, pet?” The man with the rich baritone was still behind me, taunting me. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Enough of this nonsense! I turn suddenly, punching the man square in the face. He stumbles backward, a loud crack emitting from the middle of his face. “Unhand me, you heathen!” I shout, bellowing as loud as one possibly could, hoping someone would come and assist me with this ruffian in the lavatory.

“Fuck.” Shiny, bright red rubies drip from his broken nose, falling on the beautiful white marble floor. His eyes flash red with anger as he cradles his bloody face, staring daggers at me. My tight fist throbs, hurting from the force I just used on this stranger. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy human.”

Human? I don’t dwell on his weird descriptor of me. “Try it.” I sneer, adrenaline flowing through me, making me speak before I think clearly.

This evil man lunges at me, giving a loud shout as I glower at him, my fists coming up defensively to my chest, ready to hit him again. I’ll show you who has killed a man.

“Y/N!”

It happened so fast, I feared if I was blinking too fast, I would miss it.

In a flash of black and white, Jungkook, who is dressed rather smartly in a posh tuxedo, races into the room, kicking this man in the face. This sends the stranger flying, hitting the hard, marbled walls. A loud thump He lands with an, “oof” sound, his head lulling to his chest.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s amber eyes search mine, sparkling in the dim light. He lightly grips my shoulders, looking me over to see if I’m alright.

I quake, my body shaking with pent up fear coursing through my veins, adrenaline dying down. But I nod. “Y-Yes.” I manage. “I am fine.” I look at the man slumped over, knocked unconscious. “My fist hurts a little…I suspect I broke his nose.”

He blinks slowly, jaw dropping down, my words sinking into his skull as he processes what I uttered. “You what?” His sunset-colored orbs expand. The youngest prince stares at me with a mix of admiration and awe. “You what?” He repeats.

I can’t help but give a small laugh at that, my frown flipping into a small smile. “He touched me inappropriately,” I sighed, “…So, I punched him.”

Jungkook snaps his jaw back in place, hastily removing his hands from my shoulders. I notice how cold it was without his warmth there. “I was coming up to tell your attendants that the ball was kicking off soon and I heard you yell.”

“Thank you.” I shiver, looking back at the man as Jungkook guides me out of the room. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I know today must have been agonizing for you.” The youngest prince ushers me into the hall, closing the large lavatory door behind us. It groaned on the hinges, making a loud thud as it clasped shut. “I am sorry we had you stay in your room all day.” Jungkook nodded to the door, "We didn't want riff-raff like that to find its way to you.”

A thought crossed my mind now that I was more rational, more-level headed. “Prince Jungkook, I didn’t hear him enter.” He blinks at me as I continue. “I had the door shut and locked.” I shake my head, brow furrowing. “He had no reflection in the mirror…” Jungkook continued to blink slowly at me as I finished. “And…he called me a…human? Isn’t that all…rather odd?”

A beat of silence and I feared I was going to be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft or something akin to that for saying a ridiculous thing. A person with no reflection! What a queer thing to suggest! Maybe I was losing my mind, maybe I was seeing things and needed to be locked away, living away from others until the end of time.

“Indeed, rather odd.” Jungkook nodded, leaning down to place the back of his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling poorly, Y/N? I know that man gave you quite the fright. Are you sure you would like to attend the ball this evening?”

A wave of calm fluttered over my body at his touch. I reveled in the feeling of this soft, light sensation traveling through my body. It was a tingling feeling like butter melting on a hot stove or chocolate in one's mouth. I felt my worries float away on a fluffy cloud with his touch. “I feel fine.” I respond, feeling like I’ve been rejuvenated.

“Wonderful.” He grins, gently guiding me back to my room to be placed in the eager hands of Sophia and Lacy. “One of us will be here to escort you to the ballroom when you have finished getting ready.” He says as he shuts the door softly in my face.

The youngest prince gives a low snarl, Hoseok and Taehyung stalking upstairs in tandem, scowls painting their handsome faces. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, his wolf form rippling under his human skin as he marches to the lavatory. The brothers growled, throwing open the door as the strange man moaned in pain on the ground. Jungkook snickered as he hoisted the man up by his lapels. “We have vampire trash to take out.”

Author's Notes: Wow, has it really been two years since I worked on this story? That's crazy to me! Thank you for sticking around if you have been waiting for this story to continue! I have a portion of the ball written out, so hopefully it won't take me years to complete and upload the next bit! Haha. Anyway, a comment, like, or reblog is always appreciated but not necessary. Love you all and thank you again for reading. 💕

Part Three l Part Five

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 1 year ago

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What if... the CEOs were hybrids? Bonus chapter | BTS OT7 au

Welcome to the prequel, I cannot believe how long it's taken me to update this story I really hope you enjoy this <3 (the gif makes me think of the 6 in their office waiting for MC, but Yoongi’s hiding her in his office 🤣) Warnings: menstrual cycle stuff, hormones, possessiveness

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Hybrids: KNJ - Wolf, KSJ - Bear, MYG - Panther, JHS - Lion, PJM - Arctic fox, KTH - Tiger, JJK - Bunny.

“Kitten if you keep pouting so hard you’ll look like a fish,” Yoongi teases without looking up from his paperwork.

“I’m not pouting,” you deny wearing the proverbial pout.

Hoseok snickers, covering it with a weak cough when you glare at him for a second, turning back to Yoongi with your arms crossed.

“Flower you need to look in the mirror,” Taehyung says deeper than usual, making your heart flutter momentarily, the sound makes him smile, but you avoid his gaze.

“Hyung stop being mean or you’ll cloud my sunshine,” Hobi pretends to berate the panther hybrid, all of their tails swishing in the air enthusiastically as you get more riled up.

You were in the main CEO office with three big cat hybrids, most people would stand guard or scared, Yoongi thought, but of course his kitten would stand defiantly in between them with no ounce of fear.

“Just admit you did it on purpose Min Yoongi,” your pout was getting more pronounced at the accusation, a big cute frown on your face that makes Yoongi bite his lips to stop smiling but he fails.

Hoseok and Tae laugh behind their hands or paperwork, both of them clearing their throats and schooling their features before you turn on them.

“What exactly did I do wrong, kitten?” Yoongi asks with a dare in his eyes, a lot of people thought you both didn’t get on but they were wrong. Yes, you both argued and disagreed with each other without care about who was watching but it was only play-fighting, and Yoongi did it on purpose to see his kitten’s claws. Who else in the company would dare confront him like this with his full name on their lips in that demeanour.

“I emailed you my report because you asked for a digital copy AND YOU CHANGED THE FONT!”

Hoseok and Taehyung both clasp their hands over their mouths as the giggles escape, you eye them both distastefully, narrowed gaze piercing them.

“And what’s the problem?” Yoongi smirks, oh you wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

You groan exasperatedly, huffing loudly which only makes his grin wider. How he loved playing with his kitten, any piece of string he dangled in front of you sent you running in circles with him and he always loved the sight.

“Why did you change it?” The pout is back.

“You’re pouting again Kitten,” Yoongi sighs, “stop it.”

You only pout harder, looking at him like a child being told off but not backing down.

“I’m not pouting,” you argue, and your tone tickles him. For your own safety you needed to be more aware of your facial muscles, or did you not realise every time you purse your lips like that you were just asking to be kissed, and Yoongi was not a gentleman, how long did you expect him to resist?

“Hyung,” Taehyung whines, copying your expression exaggeratedly. “I can’t believe you changed the font on flower’s hard work.”

“How could you?” Hoseok joins in, adopting a childish tone in his voice as he pouts extra hard.

The fake support only makes you glare at them, they sounded ridiculous as they struggled to keep their composure. Yoongi doesn’t hold back his soft laughter, the sound cooling your anger a little.

“You’re not funny,” you say to the duo, watching both their tails swish behind them as they mock you.

“I disagree,” Tae chuckles.

“We’re hilarious sunshine,” Hoseok chimes in, “and Yoongi hyung was right, you are pouting.”

“That is beside the point,” you disregard them, “the point is Min Yoongi disrespected my work.”

“I changed the font Kitten, I didn’t insult it,” he rolls his eyes but the smirk doesn’t disappear.

“Helvetica is an insult,” you mumble, walking away with a stomp in your step. The three cat hybrids start to petulantly whine and complain as you leave, begging for you to stay.

“Kitten, I’ll change it back,” Yoongi calls after you.

“Flower come back,” Taehyung whines.

“Sunshine we were joking!”

But your only response was the slam of the office door.

“No one tell Namjoon.”

“Hyung you were pushing it,” Hoseok berates him gently, “or did you not scent the change yet?”

“Of course I did, it’s my favourite time to play with Kitten,” Yoongi admits. “She’s extra volatile this time of month.”

Taehyung shakes his head in disbelief, “Hyung you’re sadistic.”

Hoseok just stares at the panther with a knowing look. Min Yoongi could pretend all he wanted, but the man was soft for you and your attention.

—

Did their hybrid ears deceive them, or was that your heart pumping out of pace as you stared up at Jin with a spaced out look. The bear hybrid was devastatingly handsome, the whole company knew it, even you weren’t immune to it.

“Angel, are you listening to what Hyung is saying?” Jimin calls you out with a smirk.

“Huh,” you take a second to snap out of it, meeting the knowing look in Jimin’s eyes before you feel your cheeks burn. “Yep.”

It sounds like a squeak as you turn back to the file Jin was holding, trying to read the words on the page but you can’t make out a single sentence. You hear him chuckle beside you, wishing the floor would swallow you whole to escape the sudden embarrassment you felt.

“Beautiful girl, are you feeling okay?” Jin asks with a grin, bathing in the sight of you becoming flustered.

“Flower,” Taehyung stands from his desk with mock worry on his face, taking your hands in his as he stares you down, “your heart rate just skyrocketed, are you okay?”

Jimin and Jungkook push Jin out of the way, the trio surrounding you as they voice their concern over your health, making you want Hell to open up and take you if it meant you could escape this.

“Ya!” Even Jin couldn’t save you now, he may have been the oldest but when the maknaes wanted something they’d get it. He sighs, shaking his head as you fight for words against their attack.

“You don’t have a temperature,” Jungkook mutters with a pout, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead.

“This is serious,” Jimin contemplates, his hands on your cheeks as he looks into your eyes, “there’s no reason for angel’s heart rate to shoot up out of nowhere,” he fights the smirk but you can hear it in his voice, he knows exactly why you were like this, damn their hybrid senses.

“Bunny, are you sure you don’t have a heart condition?”

“Should we book an appointment with the company doctor,” Taehyung says to the two, his acting skills better than them by far, even you were almost convinced it would be a good idea.

“This isn’t the first time it’s happened Bunny, what if it’s something serious?” Jungkook teases, unable to stop the grin on his face.

“Has no one else picked up on it Angel?” Jimin asks innocently before his eyes change again, a cheshire cat smile on the fox’s face forming without restraint. “It only ever happens with us.”

Your whole head feels like it’s on fire, the open mouth of shock pressing shut with annoyance.

“Maybe I’m allergic to you guys,” you say through gritted teeth, making the boys gasp in outrage at the idea.

—

It hurt like a bitch, like little fists were punching you from the inside out and all you could do was grit your teeth and take painkillers, which you swear did nothing. You try to suppress a groan, pressing your lips together hard as you get through another cramp. You wish you didn’t come in today but there was an important meeting and you stupidly thought that was more important than crying in bed in pain alone.

You don’t notice three sets of eyes on you, looking on with worry. It's when you clutch your abdomen, eyes squeezed closed, that they know they can no longer leave you be.

“Y/n you stink,” Suran says nonchalantly as she passes your desk, the Chihuahua hybrid dropping off some files before giving you a fake sympathetic smile and holding her nose as she walks away.

Taehyung growls as he overhears, the chihuahua’s attention snapping to the tiger with fear widening her eyes, noticing Jimin looking at her with the same predatory hate that makes her cower away with a whine.

You sigh when she walks away, hating the fact that every hybrid in the room knew exactly which point of your monthly cycle you were in, even with all the suppressants they had to take. At first it was weird to get used to, embarrassing even but with time it was just the way things were. Sometimes you had to admit it did have it’s benefits, like when you ranted to your panda hybrid BFF about Min Yoongi and the helvetica altercation she may have pointed out that you were PMSing and your patience with the panther was at sub zero because of it. Maybe you were overreacting about the whole font thing, just a little.

“Noona,” Jungkook calls for your attention, the other two in tow looking at you with so much sympathy it was as if someone was dying.

“Angel, care to follow us?” Jimin says holding out his hand for you to take.

You smile knowingly, but it doesn’t stretch very far. Every month your favourite trio found a way to distract you from work and form a cuddle nest in Yoongi’s office which he always allowed to your surprise. He would stare at the four of you while he pretended to work, both of you wishing he would just join the cuddle pile.

“Guys I can't, I've got a meeting soon,” you say, glancing at the clock. “And you three are 20 minutes late to yours.”

They mumble feeble excuses which you silence with an unimpressed look.

—

You almost crawl into the meeting room, your pace so slow your usual 30 minutes early to prep was now cut to 25, Jin had been pacing the room for five minutes wondering whether you had died, Namjoon restraining him from going to look for you telling the bear hybrid he was being too dramatic.

Of course, Namjoon eats his own words when they see you enter. Jin was normally the one to preempt your ritual of setting up, normally joining you so he could steal your time before being surrounded by your colleagues. This time round, Namjoon decided to join him and he’s so glad he did.

The protective growl is barely contained, he doesn’t know what hits him first, your palor, the smell of blood or the way you are so obviously in excruciating pain.

“Baby girl,” his voice is on edge, “what are you doing here?”

You frown at him, wincing when another cramp makes you want to double over and die, did he have to ask you stupid questions?

“Setting up,” you say breathlessly with a slight groan, pressing your lips together as if those two words alone just added tenfold to the agony.

“I don’t think so,” the characteristic rise of his eyebrow tells you he’s serious, “go home, you’re in no state to work.” he turns to Jin, “Hyung, do you think you could drive-”

“I’m fine,” even through the struggle of those quiet words he could hear your stubbornness.

He exhales, staring you down, jaw clenched. Jin glances between you both, even in your frailer than usual state he could see you weren’t going to back down, either of you.

“Beautiful, maybe we should-”

“Nope,” you shake your head, ignoring them and starting to prep for the meeting, you were running out of time. You try to behave as normal, standing a little straighter, but your movements were slow, your head fuzzy.

“Y/n I am not kidding around, you look like you’re going to pass out,” Namjoon grits his teeth to stop himself yelling, he never yelled, but this or something similar happened every month and his patience ran out about a year ago.

You scowl at the lack of his term of endearment in that sentence, didn’t he know you were in pain? And he was going to call you by your name? The gall of the lead CEO, thinking he could just boss you around like he was… Huh, maybe your brain was suffering from a lot of blood loss, you genuinely forgot this man was your employer.

“I’m going to be fine,” you sigh, tired of everything. You just needed to make it through the day, only… 7 more hours left. You stop yourself from bursting into tears at the thought, why was time torturing you today?

Jin watches Namjoon clench his fist, the bear hybrid taking a step back when the wolf’s eyes have that red glint in them that meant oncoming doom. You were somehow blissfully unaware, although he knew that wouldn’t last long.

It's when you try to muffle a wince that he can hear the low growls coming from the male, his tail stiff and straight, making Jin’s instincts want to stand in front of you and defend you but the more rational part of his brain knew Namjoon would never hurt you.

“Beautiful girl…” He tries again, nervously laughing but you seem to be oblivious to the state of the predator in the room. “I think-”

The whimper you try to conceal cuts him off, you’re clutching the edge of the table in front of you so hard your knuckles are white, your whole posture stiffening as you ride out the spasms your lower region assaults on your body. His eyes go wide when he doesn’t hear you breathe, he steps closer to you quickly as it passes and when you release the table you stumble back into his chest.

His arm wraps around you quickly, keeping you steady as you catch your breath. Your stance is weaker, he can see your eyes are out of focus when he tilts your head to look at him.

“You shouldn’t be here beautiful,” he sighs. “You should be at home, in bed, resting.”

“But-”

“I’m taking you home,” he insists, and he’d stay with you, no way was he going to leave you alone like this. He bet you hadn’t had anything to eat today either.

“But the meeting,” you whine weakly, you put so much work into today and your biology was ruining it. “No, I’m going to stay.”

You both hear the low rumbling sound behind you, tentatively turning towards the hooded eyes directed at you. You feel a shiver shoot down your spine, Jin holding you tighter against him.

When he takes a step closer you instinctively try to take one back, unable to move with Jin freezing in response to the wolf. Namjoon lets out a deep breath, as if trying to control his instincts, instincts that scream at him to take his mate home, build her a nest and trap her in it until she recovers.

“Baby girl you either let Hyung take you home now,” he pauses, searching your eyes for the defiance he needed to subdue. The corner of his lips twitch as if he’s almost amused, but really it's because his patience has been tested to its limits.

You try to speak but no sound leaves, all you can do is watch the predator stalk up to you, looking up at him as his gaze almost dared you to try and challenge him.

“Or…” his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, stretched thin like his nonexistent tolerance for your attitude.

“I call security to escort you out of the building.”

You gawp at him in surprise, he wouldn’t, there is no way on Earth he would call security on you.

“Don’t test me Y/n, it’s for your own good,” he grunts in reply to your unspoken thoughts, the fake smile gone to reveal his glare. He doesn’t back down, doesn’t flinch even when he can see your eyes starting to water. He marches over to the internal company phone when you don’t move towards the exit, Jin having released you to watch your reaction. You cross your arms, looking at the wolf with just as much contempt despite the pain you were in. The adrenaline of your standoff helped a little, but you would die before you admit it.

He scoffs after waiting a second too long, unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing his sleeves up his arms. They felt like they were constraining him, the tie and collar would have to be loosened next once he dealt with you. He glares at you again, ready to end this stalemate, but your eyes aren’t on his with fire like he expects. Instead, they travel down his arms, breath caught in your throat at the angry veins protruding out of his skin. The smirk on his face was real this time, only when he picks up the phone do you return his stare. He wouldn’t…

“Security,” it’s a gruff command and your jaw drops in disbelief.

—

“So Bunny isn’t talking to you?” Jungkook isn’t gloating, not really, the grin he has on his face wasn’t cruel, he just found the situation entertaining.

“Even I thought he was bluffing with the security card,” Jin shakes his head at the memory, you held back tears the whole drive home, you ranted to Jin about how Namjoon could possibly to that to you and who did he think he was, you didn’t stop for the whole afternoon and evening until Jin left.

“I was half bluffing,” Namjoon groans, “I didn’t really call them, I just made her think I did.”

“But you would have if she didn’t move,” Yoongi challenges, a smirk evident on his face that he wasn’t buying it.

“As if you wouldn’t have called them either,” the lead CEO huffs.

“Oh please, Kitten wouldn’t refuse me,” the smirk only grows when the wolf glares at the panther. “And if she did, she would have paid for it.”

“She was already paying in pain, hyung,” Taehyung whines, not liking the way Yoongi was talking. “My poor flower.”

“It’s been a week,” Namjoon starts massaging his temples with his fingertips feeling the stress radiate from his brain like a migraine. “When is she going to let it go?”

“Have you apologised?” Hoseok asks, not looking up from his paperwork until his question is met with silence.

Oh if only you could see the wolf with his tail between his legs right now. He tries not to laugh at the obvious embarrassment on Namjoon’s face as he tries to come up with an excuse.

“I don’t think he needs to apologise,” Yoongi says.

“Of course you don’t” Jimin sasses with an eye roll. “Whether hyung was right or wrong, he still hurt my angel’s feelings.”

“I think he’s paid for it enough,” Jin chuckles, “you should’ve seen his face when beautiful called him Mr Kim.”

Jaws drop, in shock and a little in second hand pain if that was ever a thing. They wouldn’t know at all how to handle you acting so coldly.

“Not even Kim Depyunim,” Jin continues as if he was sharing a scandal. “Mr Kim.”

“Woah,” Jungkook breathes, completely taken back. “Remind me not to get on Noona’s bad side.”

“Ididitforherowngood!” Namjoon yells to his own defence, sounding unusually high pitched before groaning, planting his head on the table.

The others snicker to themselves, the sound making the wolf bang his head lightly but repeatedly on the wooden desk.

—

“Sunshine, are you still mad at Namjoon?” Hoseok asks you as you both walk to your meeting. His question pulls your attention out of the file you were rechecking.

“No…” you deny, pouting as you return to reading.

“Sunshine…” he sighs.

“Maybe,” you try again more honestly.

“Well then you should be mad at all of us,” he replies, making your snap towards him. He doesn’t meet your gaze, staring in front of him with confidence. “We all would’ve done exactly the same thing.”

You sigh displeased with that information.

“But Hobi-”

That does make him turn towards you, pulling your arm and stopping you both in your tracks. Thankfully the corridor was empty, but he still glances around before giving you his full attention.

“Sunshine, none of us like seeing you in pain,” he explains, “and for some reason you don’t listen to your body.”

You open your mouth to argue but his stare makes you back down, pressing your lips closed with another pout. He chuckles softly at the sight.

“He didn’t go about it the best way, but he didn’t do it to undermine you sunshine,” he explains calmly. “He did it because he was worried about you.”

You stare at his shoes, feeling mildly dejected at his gentle berating. You miss the grin on his face, finding you adorable. He gives the corridor another glance around to make sure no eyes could catch him, before he pulls you into a hug, chuckling to himself at how endearing he found everything about you, even the parts that sometimes exhausted them.

—

“No!” he roars childishly. “I know Flower better!”

You wince at his volume, the three maknaes tended to forget about the crowd of colleagues surrounding you when they had these battles for your attention.

Jmin and Jungkook scoff loudly, making you wince even harder, glancing at the other desks and watching people whisper in amusement. Why did they do this to you?

“Please, you don’t even know your flower’s favourite flower!” Jimin contends with just as much volume as the tiger, tail swishing back and forth faster and faster.

“You just admitted she’s my flower,” Taehyung counters as if he’s won.

“Guys,” you say quietly, not wanting any more attention, but needing to stop it. You pull on Tae’s sleeve to get him to stop.

“Look you can’t even read Bunny’s body language,” Jungkook stands with his hands on his hips, stalking up to the tiger as if he wasn’t a prey hybrid. Honestly sometimes you’d forget if it wasn’t for the bunny ears on his head.

“And you can?” Jimin and Taehyung say simultaneously.

“Better than you can!” Jungkook shouts back, “you’re making Noona uncomfortable right now.”

Oh the irony obviously went over the youngest’s head and then twirled around him and yeeted for good measure.

“Can you guys please quieten it down?” you beg, “or take it elsewhere.”

Three sets of eyes now snap and stare directly at you, oh shit this was exactly what you wanted to avoid.

“Flower tell them I know you best,” Taehyung demands, crouching beside you and turning your chair to face him.

“Angel don’t you dare lie to him to save his feelings,” the arctic fox growls, the sound not as impressive as Namjoon’s but you find it cute, or you would in any other situation.

“Bunny-”

A large shadow looms over the four of you, catching the hybrids’ tongues in their throats. They audibly swallow, slowly turning to see the daggers the big bad boss wolf threw at them with his glare.

“Didn’t we have that thing…?” Jimin cowers back without taking his eyes off the lead CEO, swearing to himself he could see steam leaving his ears.

“That important thing,” Taehyung seconds as if he didn’t spend the last half an hour disagreeing with everything the fox said.

The three of them scarper off, as if the ends of their tails were on fire, unable to leave fast enough. You shake your head at their antics but smile in amusement despite the trouble they caused.

Namjoon’s presence had everyone turn back diligently to their work, he surveys the whole floor, making sure not a single hint of attention strayed from what he paid them to do. You look up at his glowering presence, grinning at how serious his demeanour was. His eyes catch yours when he hears your light laughter, the stern expression on his face melting away.

You weren’t giving him the narrowed eyes of spite that he was getting used to, was it too early to sigh in relief? He watches you cautiously, words catching in his throat that he clears, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. You smile at him so radiately it disarms him, his palms starting to sweat, you reduce the strong alpha to a pup with that look of endearment.

“Thanks Joonie,” you whisper, “they were getting to that stage where it would’ve been impossible to stop.”

You shake your head again, looking down at your computer completely unaware of the puddle the CEO was turning into beside you. He feels his soul elevate back into place after being dragged along the floor for a week. He wasn’t Mr Kim anymore, the relief flooded through him.

“Baby girl,” he calls for your attention quietly, standing over you with an arm on your desk. You glance up at him, caught in his soft gaze, blinking a couple of times at the sight.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for last week, I was out of line but I was worried about you.”

He leans down closer, his face an inch away from yours. He smirks when he sees your eyes dilate, an inner voice berating him about rules and etc that he ignores for a second.

“That being said,” he continues gently. “Never call me Mr Kim again.”

He breaks out into a grin at the sound of your soft laughter.

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bangfantanfic · 11 months ago

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Our Own World: Chapter 12.

Warnings: Possible mentions of stalkingand yandere behaviour.

tags; @miss-jupiter @imagine-forlife @blaaiissee @millenniumspec @toughbook @darkuni63 @badbyeyoongi @iloverubberduckiez-blog @missseoulite @singukieee @potterbrooke @suhappysuho @doublebunv @sevenpersona @blancflms @childfmoonn @caffeineandreveries @cryingpages @gato-dumbo @xicanacorpse @devilzliaison

A/N; I am alive! Thank you all for being so patient, life has been life-ing and I cannot say it's been enjoyable lmao. I hope this update is okay, please let know! I am also currently going through Our Own World and my other works editing everything! So there may be some changes, so please bare with me while everything is a bit messy. If you would like to be removed or added to my taglists please let me know <3

Being holed up in Jimin’s room had surprisingly been a nice refresher. The only person coming and going from the room had been Jimin, taking clothes to his roommates, bringing fresh clothing to you, and meals whenever they were ready. He spent nearly every second glued by your side, chatting away like he had known you his entire life. He had millions of questions, wanting to know every intimate detail about the life you lived before finding yourself stuck here, although he worded it much nicer.

In turn, you asked Jimin a million and one questions. You asked about his life, what it was like living with your brother, did he have hobbies, and of course, questions regarding life as a hybrid. You hadn’t ever spent much time around normal animals despite the never-ending line of pets your parents bought home, and so obviously hybrids were a whole new ballgame. Jimin had been thrilled by your interest, answering every question in length and always making sure you understood everything. The hybrid had shown you so much patience and care, more than you had expected or ever even experienced before. It had been a shock and left you feeling embarrassed and ashamed of the way you had behaved around them all.

Growing up, despite your parents' interest in hybrids, they never got any. Nobody you knew had hybrids— well obviously other than your brother but his ownership over them had been a surprise! You had very little knowledge of them, only what you had learned through the media, which even you should have known wasn’t the most reliable source at times. All your information, the knowledge you thought you had? Useless. You may as well have watched Fox News all your life. Thankfully, Jimin didn’t seem to mind your lack of knowledge, in fact, he seemed thrilled to share everything he could with you. The two of you had started to form a surprising bond.

For the first time in almost a week, you woke up alone. It had left you feeling strangely disappointed. The first night you had spent in Jimin’s shared bedroom, he had insisted you sleep in his bed, and you both had bickered for a ridiculous amount of time until you caved in. By the second day, he had rejoined you in his bed, being careful to keep his distance. It was sweet. By day four you were waking up to Jimin curled up around your body, his nose buried into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. Strangely enough, you weren’t bothered by the skinship. Your skin didn’t crawl at his touch, even the gentle brushes of his tail on your calf. It was almost comforting. Jimin had picked up on the change in attitude toward touch, slowly amping up his skinship.

But it was strange to wake up to the disturbed routine you had so briefly experienced. Usually, you woke up before Jimin, the fox hybrid stayed up later than you and slept in longer. Today was different. Deciding to shrug it off, you rolled across the bed blindly reaching for your phone on the bedside table. The blinding white light from your screen caused the device to slip from your hands for a moment before you recovered from temporary blindness. Speedily scrolling through the notifications on your lock screen, your thumb froze upon noticing a familiar name.

HY- U free today? Was thinking about going on a walk… u interested?

Staring at the words, rereading, and then reading one more time, you threw the blanket off your body, throwing yourself upward. You still texted the man from the grocery store, Hanyoon, nearly every day, unfortunately, you hadn't run into him again since your first meeting. Covid’s lockdown rules had thankfully finally started to ease up. Whilst masks and international travel still hadn’t gone back to normal, you were allowed to roam the streets again... Exercising for a few hours outside of the house in the neighborhood you lived in was encouraged. Getting out of the house was just what you needed, even if it was with a man you had only met once. Keeping yourself cooped up like this was crazy, of course, it was. Jay wasn’t able to return anytime soon, and just because Hoseok and Jeongguk had scared the shit out of you, it didn’t mean you should close yourself off to the others who hadn’t done anything wrong. A day out was exactly what you needed to clear your head.

Y/N- sounds great! Whenever you're ready :))

Dropping your phone back onto the mattress, you stumbled out of the bed, ankle snagged in one of many blankets that Jimin kept all over the bed. You made a quick mental note to fix his bedding when you got back. Digging through the pile of your dirty clothes that had been shoved behind the door, you found a decent enough outfit. Sure, you could go to your bedroom but the fewer stops the better. If you could avoid alerting the whole house of your departure that would be ideal.

You were thankful for the one sink in the ensuite that still worked, getting to quick work brushing your teeth. Unfortunately, your hair was disgustingly greasy, but with no time to shower you would just have to steal some of Jimin’s dry shampoo and pray it could fix the cesspool on top of your head. Not bothering with makeup, knowing your unfit ass would sweat it all off, you were quick to ditch your glasses in favor of contacts. Deeming yourself presentable for the public, you quickly grabbed your phone from Jimin’s mattress. Hayoon’s contact alerted you to his arrival at the park nearby.

To your complete surprise, you managed to make it out of the house without a single soul making an appearance. If you didn’t know any better, you would have assumed the house was empty. Knowing better than to test your luck, you had been quick to slip into your sneakers by the door, taking off down the driveway. Despite enjoying Jimin’s companionship the past week, you craved normal human interaction. Jimin was a sweetheart, but there was something that lingered under that sweetness that often left you feeling uneasy. It could just be you overthinking, subconsciously comparing him to his two packmates that had spooked you, but you weren’t going to completely ignore your gut. You had learned to be better than that.

“Y/n!”

A grin pulled at your lips as you locked eyes with Hayoon, your legs picking up pace to meet him faster. Hayoon looked good, dressed in loose black shorts and a baggy white tee. His hair which had been completely buzzed off the first, and last, time you saw him had started to regrow. Thick dark hair had started to flower across his head, making you wonder what kind of style his hair had been before it had been shaved off.

“Hayoon, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?” You asked sheepishly, keeping a little space between your bodies.

He waved you off, smiling down at you. You forgot how tall he was, definitely an inch or so taller than Namjoon. You weren’t short, in fact, you were considered tall for a woman in your country, but Hajoon made you feel tiny, something you couldn't say happens often.

“Nah, I haven’t been here long.” He assured you, gently bumping into your shoulder as he started to walk along the dusty path. The crunch under his shoes finally jolted your legs into gear after what seemed to be a moment of short-circuiting when the skin of his arm brushed against yours.

The sun felt amazing on your skin, something you never thought you could say. Even the gentle breeze didn’t bother you. It was still early, the only other people in the park being an elderly couple walking with their arms linked up ahead. Despite how warm it already was, the couple were dressed in thick coats as if braving the city's harsh winter. Watching the way they interacted so freely with one another warmed your heart, they seemed so in love. Growing old didn’t seem as scary if you did it with someone you loved.

Hayoon must’ve been watching the same scene as you, a soft smile on his lips as he admired the affectionate couple ahead. A comfortable silence had settled over the two of you rather quickly, and you were grateful. Something you liked about Hayoon was how easy it was with him. There were no forced conversations, no bitterness over slow responses. There were many similarities between the two of you, making it almost effortless to keep any conversation going. Any differences were discussed, debated, and settled. Those differences weren’t drastic, nothing that could end the bond that slowly was forming.

A sound of disgust broke your thoughts, Hayoon’s eyes were still looking toward the elderly couple, only now a third person had appeared. A short woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties had been walking in front of them and now separated off to the left with her arm linked with the elderly woman, the two admiring a shrub of flowers. The short woman had pretty honey-colored hair with ears of the same color poking out– a hybrid.

Hayoon looked down at you, an apologetic look on his face. His tanned cheeks had a cute pink flush to them. “Sorry– I didn’t mean to.” He stumbled over his words, his cheeks going brighter in embarrassment.

“Not a fan?” You laughed, glancing back toward the elderly woman and her hybrid.

Hajoon snorted, shaking his head. He kept quiet as you approached the trio, waiting until a good distance had been made before he answered your question.

“It’s just.. Weird?” He sighed, his thick brows pulling together. “It’s not natural.”

Humming, you found yourself agreeing. Hybrids were a strange concept, you found it incredibly difficult to understand why anyone would go out of their way to warp genetics in such a way. What was the real reason for creating such a mess of DNA? Only to ban them twenty years later? What was the reason for banning them? They were a hot commodity, every facility selling out within weeks, the waitlists being years long. The money the government had made from their creation had been staggering, and yet twenty years later facilities were shut down and forced to stop producing. The last few generations were sterilized, and the older generations were also encouraged to be as well. The government was trying to completely erase their creations without an explanation. As anyone could imagine, it didn’t go down well with the public. Hybrid trading has become a huge issue over the last few years, with huge rings being found and shut down every few days.

What about Jay’s hybrids? When exactly did he get them, and where from? They were all born before the ban, that much you knew. So maybe he got them legally? Did he follow the government's advice, suggesting (demanding) to have all hybrids sterilized? Jay seemed to want to hide the fact that he owned hybrids, was it because of how many he had? Maybe there was a limit on how many hybrids a person could own that you weren't aware of. Seeing the elderly couple out with their cat hybrid, not a concern in the air, had you confused as to why the seven back home were kept under lock and key. Was it because of their breeds? They were all exotic animals, the laws might apply differently to different breeds. After the ban on hybrids, many laws shifted, and still to this day they are constantly changing, it is difficult to keep up to date.

The topic of hybrids and Hayoon’s opinions on them piqued your interest. You were still clueless on the topic, no matter how much research you did into it you still felt uneducated on it all. Hayoon had been an excellent source of information, leaving you almost speechless on how much he seemed to know about them. If there was one thing you admired about the man, it was how educated he was on all topics. He always made sure to have himself as well informed as possible before making an opinion, he was a pool of knowledge. He never looked down on you for things you didn't know or understand and explained things as many times as you needed. It reminded you of Namjoon.

A knot of anxiety pulled at your stomach. Had they noticed you were gone? Were they upset... Maybe you should have told someone, or at least left a note. You know Namjoon has a shitty old phone that's shared amongst the group, but you never bothered to get the number for it. You hadn’t seen a need for it, the only time you had spent away from any of them was to go get groceries. A part of you also just didn’t want them to have your number, the thought of them being able to contact you in the only time you had alone was distressing. Quickly shrugging off your concerns, you turn your attention back to Hayoon who had thankfully not noticed you spacing out.

They’re fine, they’re grown men, and they can live without you for a few hours.

“She’s gone!”

Namjoon slammed his laptop shut, glaring up at Jimin for bursting into the bedroom he was temporarily residing in until Y/N was ready to go back to her own.

“Have you forgotten how to knock?” He snapped, earning a frustrated hiss from the young fox.

“Are you deaf!” He shot back, tugging at his hair. “Y/N is gone, I can’t find her anywhere!”

Jimin’s panic was already distressing enough, the emotion suffocating the room the longer he stood in the doorway, but the anxiety that flooded his nerves was enough for him to feel bile rising in his throat. Namjoon had heard one less heartbeat when he woke up late this morning, but he had pinned it down to either one of the boys had gone walking at the back of the property, somewhere too far for his hearing to pick up, or Jeongguk was sleeping so deeply that his heart had slowed to almost nothing again– a common occurrence when the snake hybrid had a late night. The possibility of it being your heartbeat missing hadn’t even crossed Namjoon’s mind. You had been locked away in his bedroom for some time now, nobody but Jimin had seen you, and nobody would have suspected you leaving. The smell of your fear still lingered upstairs, Jimin would herd everyone downstairs before you would agree to go use the upstairs bathroom to shower. Going as far as making Jimin stand guard on the door until you were done. When did you lose that anxiety?

Ripping the blanket, Namjoon’s laptop hit the floor as he jumped off the mattress. “Where have you looked?”

“I’ve been through the yard, the kitchen, our bedroom, and all of downstairs. I haven’t checked Jeongguks room, I was on my way–”

Namjoon was speeding down the hallway before the fox could finish his sentence. This was a new kind of fear he had never experienced before, his throat closing up and his eyes burning. His lungs were on fire, struggling to keep up with how quickly he was breathing. At the end of the hall was Taehyung and Jeongguk’s room, the door shut and only the sound of one heartbeat fluttering peacefully. Had you found your way into their room? Maybe you had gotten lost and ended up in the wrong bedroom? These things happen all the time! He’ll open the door and you’ll be curled up in someone's bed, and the crisis will be averted.

With the force that Namjoon pushed open the door, he almost fell flat on his face. Stumbling into the room, his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, squinting as he took in two groggy men peeking out from their blankets.

“Hyung, what the fuck?” Jeongguk groaned, his heart going from nearly stopped to racing.

“Well, is she there?” Jimin huffed, shoving past his leader to look for himself. To his great disappointment, the room held no signs of you ever being there. Cursing, Jimin shoved past Namjoon, his usual gratefulness replaced with clumsy heaviness.

“What’s his problem?” Taehyung whined, pulling his blanket over his head to shield himself from the brightness of the hall.

Namjoon, for the first time in his life, couldn’t find words. You’re not here. There are seven heartbeats, not eight. The knot in his stomach tightened, the bile in his stomach rising higher and higher. When did you leave, how long has it been? Your car is still here, you couldn’t have gotten far. How didn’t anyone hear you leave? A house full of hybrids and not a single one heard you get up and out the front door?

Impossible.

“Did you hear anyone leave the house this morning?” He asked as calmly as possible, the shake in his voice far more noticeable than he would have liked. Both grunted out no’s, begging the elder male to close the door.

It was Jeongguk, finally ripping the blanket off his head ready to start a war over the damned door still being open, that noticed Namjoon’s pale sweaty skin. He looked like he was about to projectile vomit. Frowning, the snake hybrid slinked out of bed and heaved his tired body toward his sickly leader. Pressing the back of his cold hand against Namjoon’s forehead, he sighed in relief. He wasn’t running abnormally hot, so it wasn’t a fever or some kind of sickness. Even with his less advanced hearing, he could still hear the erratic beating of his hyung’s heart.

“Joonie, you okay?” He murmured, his hand cupping the back of the man's neck as he tried to get closer to assess him better. “You don’t look so good…”

The concern in Jeongguk’s usually smug tone had Taehyung flying into a sitting position, his hair standing in every possible direction. His puffy eyes zeroed in on his pack leader, his brows pulling together in concern.

“Is he sick?”

Jeongguk shook his head, keeping his eyes on the wolf hybrid. Gently squeezing at the muscle in his neck, the snake hybrid was starting to get antsy. “Hey, come on. Talk to us, we can’t help if you don’t tell us what's wrong.” He cooed, the money hybrid making a sound of agreement from behind.

Namjoon’s tongue pressed against his cheek, his eyes going glassy. He couldn’t get his tongue to work, he couldn’t get himself to say the words his packmates needed to hear. How could he admit to everyone that he had lost you? He could hear Jimin tearing through Jay’s room downstairs, Hoseok and Seokjin hot on his heels trying to calm the younger man down. They didn’t know what was happening either, nobody else had figured it out.

“We can’t find Y/n.”

#btsxreader #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #yandere bts #bts hybrid #bts!au #bts x reader #bts yandere #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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fruitmins · 2 years ago

Text

Victory | namjoon

➭ summary: in which Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

➭genre: hybrid x reader, drabble, angst, mate au

➭warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of killing, he gets protective real quick, hybrid abuse, a couple had words, the ending…

➭note: finals week Tuesday. i hate everything

“You’re winner, by knockout. RM!” Muffled cheers filled his stiff bloody wolf ears as the announcer dramatically swung his arm in the air.

No one cared about the other unconscious hybrid who was in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the cage. RM didn’t either. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have killed someone in the ring. The only thing he cared about was victory. The victory that would land him dinner and a day off.

Despite it being in his stage name, RM wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t always like this. He used to care about other things before he was shoved into the cage. Forced to entertain and damage himself and other for human entertainment.

RM spit out a wad of blood that had gathered in his mouth. He didn’t smile at the cheers, because they weren’t necessarily for him. It was for the people who had won money from bets.

“Alright let’s go.” A nasty shriveled male voice told him over the screams as he was yanked by the air and dragged by two men with vest and face masks to his room.

RM thought they were bold for their harsh movements. He had just beaten a lion hybrid to a plump, surely he could take them out. They should respect him. But the taser had boosted their ego. Tasers did damage, especially after a bloody match. That was the only thing stopping RM from clawing their face off as they shoved him in his small room.

Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.

#bts fanfic #bts ot7 #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts x you #namjoon imagine #bts hybrid #bts hybrid fic #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #rm x reader

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