#calling her owner n teasing her for wagging when i tell her how pretty her barks are.......

[puppygirl-slimegirl]

btw a puppy can literally own another puppy and its the most magical thing in the world. if u care

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary:��when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

[spxllcxstxr]

Inked • S.B

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! Could I request a Soulmate AU with Sirius please? Marauders era with matching tattoos. No rush and thank you 🌹🖤 — @fific7

Summary: Mary is determined to find your soulmate and not even an oncoming storm will stop her. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: some tattoo talk?, rain, thunder, I guess hints/implied bullying, Peter makes an appearance but like he’s not a key part and he’s not like bad or anything

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: This is the kind of star I’m envisioning for your soulmark (just not yellow) I actually never specify the color, so you can imagine any color you want. This took me like a week to write for some reason. But I like how it turned out. Hopefully you guys do too! Love you all ❤️

****

No one ever told you that soulmarks tingled.

When the eight pointed star seared itself into the flesh of the inside of your left elbow at age sixteen, you thought that was it. You thought that it would just sit there innocently to the point where it wouldn’t cross your mind every second of every day, but Merlin were you wrong.

The prickling of the mark was constant, like pins and needles jabbing relentlessly into your arm. It wasn’t exactly painful, it was just an obnoxious and infuriating reminder that you still haven’t found your soulmate.

Hogwarts was practically the place for the vast majority of witches and wizards to find their soulmate, as it was basically the only topic discussed amongst the sixth and seventh years.

Honestly, you just wanted your mark to stop its incessant tingling to the point where you wouldn’t mind anyone being your soulmate. You’ve never heard any complaints from your friends who had already found their true loves, so you assume that the sensation stops eventually.

But you were tired of scratching at your arm making it look like you had some weird sort of flesh eating disease. It was unflattering and highly inconvenient.

Sure, you could run around like a headless hippogriff with your sleeve rolled up asking everyone you encounter if they’ve seen another person with that identical mark, but that’s not romantic. And you wanted romantic, Merlin damn it.

Plus, imagine the burn of embarrassment that would overtake your entire being if no one shared your soulmark. You shudder at the mere thought.

So, you learn to live with it.

You almost want to rip your arm off when it gets particularly bad while studying or trying to get the perfect measurement for your potion, but after a full year you’re almost used to it.

You’re used to how often your friends would gush about their own soulmates and their constant questions about why you’re still single as well.

Mary MacDonald, one of your best friends, had already found her soulmate, some boy from Beauxbatons that sent her too many Howlers during breakfast, but they loved each other, so who were you to complain?

But ever since she found hers, she’s been pretty determined to seek out yours. Even getting her boyfriend to ask around his own school. You can never show your face around Beauxbatons and that’s final.

She’ll make you sit around the courtyard, pretending to read a book, while she scans the arms of the many crowds in search of your star. Mary tries to walk in on top secret Quidditch practices to get a glimpse of any rolled up sleeves, but so far, no good.

That’s really the only reason she’s dragging you down to the Black Lake even though dark grey clouds are hanging heavy in the sky.

“Mary!” You huff as she drags you down the grassy hills, the smell of rain thick in the air. “I know what you’re doing, I’m not daft, y’know.”

Her hand tightens around yours as she starts to feel you resist.

“What I’m doing? (Y/n), it’s a nice day to just hang out at the lake!” Mary cries, the lie hidden well if she wasn’t your best friend.

“Mary it’s about to torrential downpour.” You scoff.

“I thought you liked the rain.” She shrugs innocently, the sound of weeds getting crushed beneath your school shoes loud in your ears.

“Mary, my soulmate might not even be at Hogwarts!” You exclaim, trying to get out of this whole situation. You could be curled up by the fire with a sugar quill, but no, why would Mary let you have some peace and quiet? “They might be older or younger than me—“

“Well we won’t know that, will we, until we check everyone in our year first.” She insists.

The deep murky water is in sight, a few people are lazily lounging around the water’s edge. Like they haven’t even noticed the rain clouds overhead.

“You’re obsessed.” You sigh, finally stopping your attempts to wriggle away from her.

“It’s because I love you.” She smiles sweetly at you, cheeks pushed high, obscuring her dark eyes.

You continue to rub the inside of your arm against the side of your abdomen, attempting to find some sort of relief. The scratchy fabric of your white button down against your grey vest is probably the most effective. The closer to the bank you get, the better you’re able to make out the figures.

The owner of the vibrant red hair was obviously Lily, one of Mary’s friends, and also the more sensible of the group considering her coat was tightly wrapped around her. She’s in a somewhat similar situation as you—she hasn’t shown her soulmark to anyone. However, if what Mary drunkenly told you one night is true, it matches James Potter’s to a tee. Poor her.

Peter was also there, kicking rocks around and chuckling at whatever story Lily was telling them. His Gryffindor jumper is a little short on him while his slacks are a little long, mud dirtying the hem of them. As far as you know, he doesn’t even have a soulmark. It’s not uncommon or something to be ashamed of, but ever since certain people found out, it’s been quite the issue. Sure the infamous Marauders took care of the situation the best they could, but the damage was already done.

The last person was obviously Sirius, you could tell by the way he has his wand situated in his bun. He was closer to the water, picking up flat stones to skip across. His bark like laugh echoing across the space. You and Mary weren’t too far from the group now, so you could tell that the top two buttons of his dress shirt were popped open. Sirius Black’s soulmark was another mystery. He seems like the type to brag about something as important as a soulmark, but as far as you know, only James, Remus, and Peter were privy to that sort of information.

“Hey guys!” Lily perks up, waving at the two of you.

You smile and wave at her, but as Mary stops and chat, you gravitate closer to Peter and Sirius.

“So where are the other two?” You ask, watching as his stone skips across the water, finally ending with a satisfying plunk!

Sirius turns to face you, a few loose strands framing his face, blowing slightly in the wind.

“Detention.” He remarks casually, lazily trying to tame his curls.

“And you two aren’t?”

Peter shakes his head enthusiastically, blond hair bobbing around. “Sirius and I managed to escape before Slughorn lost it.”

“Hey Pete!” You hear Mary call from behind you. “Don’t you wanna know what you missed in Muggle Studies?”

“Shit, yeah.” Peter bounds over to where Lily and Mary are sitting, leaving you and Sirius alone. Your feet shuffle at the predicament.

You slowly inch closer to Sirius, the large distance awkward without a third person. You’re forced to hold down a wince as your mark prickles almost painfully.

Sirius’ eyes are almost the same shade as the clouds in the sky as they pierce into yours.

“You know how to skip rocks?” He tosses you a smooth stone which you catch effortlessly.

You open your mouth to respond but before you’re able to, you’re cut off by a clap of thunder. The ripples of thunder makes you jump slightly.

“We should probably go inside—“ You start, shivering at the cold wind that begins to roll past you.

“Scared of a little thunder, (Y/n)?” Sirius teases, smirking at your shivering form.

“Don’t be a prick.” You snort. “Just throw your rock.”

You push the thought of the oncoming storm to the back of your mind as you position yourself on the bank.

The water laps at you shoes as you toe the edge, running your thumb over the smooth surface. You mirror Sirius’ position, slightly crouched at the knee, body angled towards the lake.

“One...two...three!”

You watch his body move fluidly through the positions, the stone releasing and skipping across the water delicately. Not only do you get distracted by Sirius, but the mark on your arm gives a sudden jolt, making your posture falter and your stone crash recklessly into the lake.

Sirius brings a ringed fist up to his mouth, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not that funny.” You grumble, embarrassed.

“I mean, it’s pretty fucking hilarious. I thought you said you knew how to skip rocks?” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised, a chuckle still lightly escaping his amused smile.

“Technically, I didn’t tell you shit.” You remark. “The thunder cut me off.”

“Ah yes. The spooky thunder.” He drawls, wagging his painted fingers at you mockingly.

You bring your hand up to flick him off when you feel a cool dot of water drop onto your hand.

“Hey, did you just feel a—“

In the middle of talking, one raindrop becomes hundreds, the torrential downpour almost instantly soaking you to your bones. You hair plasters to your skin, clothes clinging onto you.

“—raindrop?” You utter weekly, a chill coming over you.

Your eyes widen as you look at Sirius, how his dark hair sticks wildly to his face, like curtains across his eyes.

Lily and Mary let out identical high pitched shrieks, and you hear the sound of mud squelching as the three run back towards the castle.

As Sirius tries to wipe the wet hair from his face, you grab onto his wrist, pulling him as your sprint back to the castle. You’re fumbling as you try not to slip in the mud but at the same time try get to the cover of the castle quickly.

“A little thunder, my arse, Sirius!” You huff out, his wrist still grasped tightly in your hand.

You hear him chuckle behind you, easily keeping up with your pace.

Cold water traces down your back and fills your shoes, your discomfort rapidly increasing with every step and every second you spend outdoors.

Your mind drifts off to Sirius, who was only in his white uniform button down. He must be freezing.

After sloshing through puddles and mucking up your shoes, you manage to get under the cover of the stone castle.

Your teeth are chattering and you body trembles, but at least the rain isn’t cutting into your skin anymore.

Lily, Mary, and Peter are nowhere to be found, though they’re probably making their way to the Gryffindor common room already.

Sirius is wringing out his drenched dark curls, his wand between his lips, but you’re too focused in the face that his shirt is now completely see through. Your eyes wander as you ogle his fit body, shamelessly trailing everywhere. You bite your bottom lip at your confidence.

However, something catches your eye as you admire his arms. A black splotch. Like a tattoo in the inside of his elbow. You somehow go colder than you already were.

“Admiring my beauty—Hey!”

You step forward and latch onto his arm, trying to get a better look at the spot on his arm. Initially, he struggles, but you jab your finger into his skin, your own mark tingling beneath your wet clothes.

“What’s your problem, (Y/n)?” He angrily grunts.

“What’s this, Sirius?” You demand, looking at him.

“Why?” Sirius rips his arm out of your grasp, trying his best to hide the mark from you.

“Because,” You explain, rolling up your own sleeve to expose the eight pointed star on your arm. “We might have something in common.”

Your entire body erupts into shivers both from the cold wind against your soaked skin and the way your soulmark buzzing.

The star stands out against your skin and you watch Sirius’ eyes widen, his jaw going slightly slack.

“Sirius.” You whisper. “I need to know if you’re my soulmate.”

The rain pounds against the castle, wind whistles, and thunder claps, and yet you don’t jump. You’re too focused on Sirius’ expression.

Silently, he brings his index finger to your mark and lightly traces the shape with his fingertip. His finger is cold, but you barely realize it because of the shock that runs through your body, originating from his touch. Goosebumps run wildly across your flesh.

He swallows harshly before pulling away and recklessly pushes his sleeve up the length of his arm. Your heart beats wildly in your chest in anticipation.

Sirius shoves his arm in front of you and you bring your gaze to focus on the inside of his elbow.

And there it is.

His soulmark.

Your soulmark.

The lines are clean and the points are sharp, the star is clear against his skin.

“Oh.”

“You’re my soulmate.” Sirius mutters. “Oh thank Merlin!” He’s laughing, a smile growing across his face.

His laughter is infectious and you find yourself joining him, practically jumping with glee.

Sirius latches onto you, pulling your wet bodies close. He brings his lips to your forehead, warmth spreading from the contact.

“We should celebrate.” Sirius remarks, pulling away just enough to see your entire form.

“Hold on.” You chuckle. “I think you’re forgetting to do something.”

His grey eyes flick down to your lips. “How could I ever forget the best part?” He smirks.

You lips are slow to connect, relishing in the sounds of the rain and how his his hands wrap around your elbows, thumb pressed into your mark.

When they finally join together, you feel whole. Like two puzzle pieces linked together. Eyes flutter shut as emotion run rampant through your body. Your mark tingles before fizzling out when you and Sirius disconnect.

You’re breathless as you cling onto him, as he clings onto you.

“We’ve got a party to throw,” Sirius grabs your hand. “soulmate.”

A stupid grin makes its way across your face.

“Lead the way, soulmate.”

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @quindolyn @fific7 @msmb @lunalovecroft

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

[lunatens]

take a break

-

requested by anon <3 im sorry this took so long!! i hope u enjoy (i also hope u like dogs lol)

prompt: “don’t be sorry, it was...actually kinda cute”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, slice of life au

pairing: lee felix x gn reader (ft. roommate/bff jisung lol)

“are you ever gonna stop staring mindlessly at your laptop?” jisung asks as he enters the kitchen of your shared apartment. you glare at him through tired eyes, and he raises his hands in defence. you’ve been sitting at your kitchen table for god knows how long just trying to get work done, but you’ve been feeling stuck for the past hour or so and you’re starting to feel the effects of sitting and staring at a screen all day. 

“you know, it’s probably a good idea to take a break at some point. you know, get up and walk around, maybe go outside for once,” jisung says as he starts making a bowl of cereal. 

“but i just have sooooooo much work to do,” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face in defeat. jisung sets the milk carton down with a bit too much enthusiasm, the loud sound startling you.

“that settles it. y/n, you are banished from this apartment until you go outside and take a walk or something,” jisung declares.

“you’re not my mom, i don’t have to listen to you. besides, i pay half the rent here,” you argue. 

“fair enough. but nothing’s stopping me from finishing your cereal,” jisung says as he grabs the box of your favourite cereal and dumps the remainders into his bowl.

“jisung, what the hell!!! i was gonna eat that later,” you pout, now in an even worse mood than before. you love your best friend, but god he can be obnoxious at times; he’s honestly more of a brother to you, and you haven’t decided if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. right now, you’re leaning more towards the bad. 

“oops, sorry. guess you’ll have to go get more,” jisung says as he shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, clearly proud of himself. you get up with an exaggerated sigh, closing your laptop and dragging yourself to your room.

“okay fiiiiine, i’ll go outside, happy?” you ask. jisung nods, cheeks full. your eyebrows furrow as you realize something. “hold up, did you pour the milk before the cereal??”

“yep. oh by the way, we’re also out of milk,” jisung says, shaking the empty carton for emphasis. you blink at him, needing to mentally question your friendship with the boy for a moment. deciding he’s worth keeping around, you turn to grab your wallet and pull on a jacket and some shoes as you prepare for the great outdoors. aka a ten-minute walk down the street to the nearest store. 

“i’ll be back,” you call behind you. 

“love you!” jisung calls before you close the door on your way out. you make your way down to the street, shoving your hands in your pockets as you’re hit with the brisk air. you squint in the bright sunlight, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust to the scenery. it’s the middle of the day, so the streets aren’t overly busy; some pedestrians are scattered about the sidewalks, and cars and bikes pass by as you walk down the street. you inhale deeply, realizing the fresh outside air is helping you feel slightly less dead inside; okay, maybe jisung was right to make you go outside, but you’ll never tell him that. 

you pass by the nearby park and decide to walk through it instead of around it like you usually do. it’s a little longer this way, but it’s such a nice day out and the scenery is too pretty to pass by. plus, a lot of people walk their dogs here and you could use a furry friend to cheer you up. 

as if on cue, the moment you enter a park a large ball of golden fur barrels right into you, knocking you to the ground. the dog stands over you, tail wagging enthusiastically as it tries to lick your face. you giggle as your hands come up to gently push the dog away, appreciating the affection but not the slobber so much. you sit up and the dog stands beside you, eager to accept your hands scratching its ears. 

“where’s your owner, huh?” you ask, the baby voice you use when talking to animals coming out. 

“i’m so sorry!!!!” you hear in the distance, and you turn in the direction of the voice to see a boy running towards you, out of breath. “bbokari, come here!!” he calls, and the dog happily trots over to the boy. “oh, so now you listen,” he scolds as he puts it on a leash. he walks over to you, sticking out a hand to help you up.

“i’m really sorry about that oh my god, she’s normally really well behaved when i let her off-leash!” the boy apologizes as he pulls you to your feet. 

“don’t be sorry, it was...actually kind of cute. i really love dogs,” you reply with a friendly smile, brushing yourself off and hesitantly letting go of his hand. now that you’re more at eye level with the stranger and his dog is no longer a distraction, you can’t help but notice how cute he is. despite the chilly weather, he seems to radiate a warmth that almost rivals that of the sun. his freckled cheeks are slightly rosy from the crisp air, and his eyes crease when he flashes you a bright smile. 

“oh that’s good, she really seems to love you!” he says. you look down to see bbokari’s happy face, tongue lolling around and tail wagging enthusiastically as she stares up at you practically demanding to be pet more. of course, you oblige, reaching down to bury your hands in her soft fur. 

“well, thanks for letting me pet your dog; trust me, this really made my day,” you tell the boy as you stand back up straight. you’re about to continue walking, but the boy interrupts you before you get very far, jogging a little to catch up to you. 

“wait!! i’m walking this direction too, mind if i join you?” he asks.

“not at all,” you tell him, a warm feeling starting to bubble up inside you. he gives you another one of his friendly smiles, and you think you might melt at the sight.

“so, you come here often?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle at the question.

“sorry, i’ve just never seen you here is all,” he explains shyly.

“i used to walk through here all the time on my way to the store, but i’ve been so caught up in work recently that i didn’t want to take the extra time to come here,” you explain. 

“what made you change your mind today?” the boy asks.

“my dumb roommate said i needed to get outside and take a break from work, and it’s such a nice day out i thought it would be refreshing for a change of scenery for once. plus i always love the chance of seeing a dog or two,” you say, smiling down at bbokari. “and also he finished my milk and cereal so i kinda need to go get more,” you add.

“well, i’m glad you listened to your dumb roommate,” the boy says, a little shy at the comment but smiling nonetheless. “it’s really good to take a break and enjoy the fresh air, especially on days like today.” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

you humm in agreement, admiring how content he looks as you walk under the trees together, sunshine filtered through bare branches before landing on your faces. you quickly look away when he opens his eyes again, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

you continue making small talk as you walk along the path, however it’s not too long before you reach the end. you’re sad to have to leave this stranger behind, and you wish you could walk together at least just a little bit longer.

“thanks for walking with me, uh…”

“felix! i’m felix,” the boy tells you. 

“thanks for walking with me felix,” you say with a genuine smile. “i’m y/n, by the way.”

“y/n! it’s the least i could do after my dog bowled you over,” felix apologizes. “and if you ever need another break i uh, i walk bbokari around this time every day and we could always use some company,” he tells you, cheeks a bit redder than they were before. 

“then i guess i’ll see you two tomorrow,” you say. felix’s face lights up at your response.

“cool! cool, yeah, i-we’ll see you tomorrow y/n!” he says, and you wave your goodbyes before you head off towards the store and felix turns back into the park. it doesn’t take you long to buy your food, feeling much less bitter towards jisung now. on your walk home you can’t help but hope you’ll run into felix and bbokari again, but there’s no sign of them as you pass through the park. 

--

“someone’s in a better mood,” jisung teases from the couch as you walk through the door, your giddy smile still apparent on your face. “so are you gonna admit i was right?”

“never in a million years,” you say as you put the milk and cereal away. “i just ran into a cute...dog, that’s all.” you tell jisung. as you get back to work, you find your thoughts drifting to a certain boy and his dog; honestly, you aren’t sure which one’s cuter, but all you know is that you can’t wait to take another break tomorrow.

[jincherie]

florescence | vi

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 4.9k+ ❀ — rating: sfw...ish? ❀ — warnings: everything is smoothing over.... and now that angst is out of the way, oc is having to deal with some thoughts that now have the time to rise to the surface. so um. hickeys and also an almost risque dream ❀ — notes: happy birthday to me!!! i hope u enjoy this!!! every chapter we get closer and closer to the heat!!!!!!

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 30.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

It seems that for all your many efforts over the weeks in reassuring the two hybrids that they’re wanted by you and that they can settle down and make this their home, it doesn’t really sink in until after the night you let them scent you.

Which, of course, makes sense considering that was what was making them unsettled in the first place. You knew that letting them do that would return their behaviour to normal, but you weren’t expecting that in the process it would also do a complete one-eighty.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

The first thing you notice, is that when you all head to bed and you enter your room, closing the door behind you, they seem to hover outside of it for a moment before continuing to their own room. Now, the old you would be thinking why? But! This is the new you, the new-and-improved y/n who knows how to use google when she should! And since you’ve been referring to google and the more trustworthy sites you’ve found, you know that they’re probably battling the urge to be closer to you.

What you mean by that, is that you read that more often than not hybrids prefer to be as close to their owners as possible at all times—and this can also mean that they want to sleep in the same room. It soothes an instinctual part of them, apparently. You can understand it, plus, if you’re being honest…. You’re not as opposed as you should be.

The idea of getting to cuddle with them while you sleep makes you feel warm and gooey inside, but the thing is that after the way things were hinted to be going the other night… you kind of have to chase off more than inappropriate thoughts every time you think about it. You can’t help it! They’re both handsome, sweet boys, and—

You’re gonna stop yourself there.

“I’m home!”

You call out as soon as you enter through the door, an unnecessary act considering they could probably hear you all the way down the street if they really tried. Still, it’s habit. You used to yell it even when no one was here, because it made you feel less lonely. Kind of sad, now you think about it. You hum, reaching the bench and placing your things down on top of the counter.

You’re startled into yelping when thick arms slip around your waist, heat pressing against your back and a face mushing into your neck. The lack of whining tells you it’s Taehyung that has reached you first today, eager to cuddle close until every trace of any other hybrid’s scent is gone. They’ve taken to doing this every time you get home—at first you wanted to protest, since they barely let you get five steps through the door before accosting you, but after seeing how pleased and content they look after, you couldn’t be mad at them for it even if you wanted to.

“Tae,” you hum, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair; your nails run against the back of his ear by accident and something akin to a purr thrums through his chest. He presses his lips to the junction of your neck before nipping it lightly in greeting, arms tightening around your waist fractionally. “I missed you too.”

When he pulls away and moves around to your front, you’re taken aback by how pleased he seems to be that you pinpointed what he was trying to say. His big chocolate eyes with those long, pretty lashes are looking at you so earnestly you can’t help but coo, bringing your hands up to pinch his cheeks. They instantly flush pink beneath your grip.

“So cute,” you coo, grinning as you squish his cheeks like he’s a newborn baby and you’re an aunt who is performing her obligated first cheek-pinch. “My cute baby Tae, I really did miss you so much.”

Teasing him probably isn’t the best way to deal with the sudden overstimulation of your senses at how cute he is, but his reactions are always worth it. He’s growing so bold lately that even though he doesn’t talk still, you almost forget how shy he can be. Blushing, Taehyung steps forward and drops his head, headbutting your shoulder to hide his face. A laugh tumbles from your throat before you can even register it, arms coming up to hold him close. You’re gonna die from a heart attack at his cuteness one of these days, you just know it.

“Where’s Seokjin?” you ask after a moment of holding him, trailing your fingers down his spine soothingly. His tail wags in joy each time you do it.

At your question though, he pulls back, and you’re surprised to see a look of hesitation on his face. You tilt your head, wondering as to the cause of it. “Is he okay?”

Taehyung nods instantly, not wanting you to worry, and seems to make up his mind about whatever he was considering. He slips his hand into yours, entwining your fingers, and tugs you towards the stairs. You follow, letting him lead you easily—this works well with your plans since you wanted to get changed into your pyjamas anyway. You kind of expect him to take you to his room, but your eyes widen when you see him turn and pull you in the direction of yours. You don’t have a name for the light, fluttery feeling that occurs in your stomach.

The door is slightly ajar as you approach and Taehyung goes straight in, pushing it open softly before stepping to the side and halting, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his face. You see why a moment later.

There, on the edge of your bed closest to the wall, is Seokjin. He’s curled up around the blankets, a blue material you quickly recognise as one of your shirts clutched against his chest as he snoozes. He looks so at peace, cheek mushed against his hand and his hair tousled so endearingly; you’re making your way over before you even realise it.

As you approach and take in the other side of the bed, the comforter rumpled and another shirt laying discarded atop the covers, you surmise that Taehyung must have joined the older male in his nap at some point as well. When you shoot him a knowing look, he purses his lips and averts his eyes somewhat guiltily, making you laugh softly.

“Seokjin,” you say quietly, resting a knee on the bed so you can lean over and nudge the fox’s shoulder. His hand uncurls from his chest and you tickle his palm with your fingers. “Seokjin.”

He grunts softly, smooshing his face into the bed for a moment. Reflexively, his fingers start to curl around your own. You try calling him to wake again, “Seokj—oop!”

The sensation of falling onto the bed has your stomach temporarily being left behind your body as you’re pulled down, arm instantly slipping over your waist. Your cheeks heat, heart thudding so loudly you’re sure Taehyung can hear it; right in front of you is Seokjin’s face, so close that if you leant forward even a centimetre your lips would brush his own. The knowledge has your blood pressure skyrocketing.

A soft sound, almost like a whimper, comes from behind you, and you turn your head to glimpse at the dhole hybrid who still has a hold on your other hand—his expression is almost indecipherable, a mix of fond, jealous, and somehow amused all at the same time. There’s something else in there that melts his citrine irises into dark honey, something that makes your stomach flip instinctively before you push it forcibly from your brain.

Brushing your thumb over his hand to soothe him, you then turn back to his brother and ponder how to proceed. You need to wake him up because, to be honest, you’re hungry as hell and want to sort out dinner already. He has your hand trapped and held against his chest, hugging your arm like a teddy, and so you free your other hand from Taehyung’s grasp (ignoring his soft protest) and bring it to cup his cheek. Admiring his features for a moment, you brush your fingertip down his nose, and then pass your thumb over his cheekbone; even asleep, he nuzzles easily into your touch. Your chest is so warm.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, not wanting to alarm him by being any louder. “Seokjin, wake up please.”

He mumbles unintelligibly, bringing the hand he has in his hold up to his cheek and nuzzling against it—honest to god you think your heart is going to explode like that bird in Shrek when Fiona sings to it. What are you supposed to do with these feelings! There’s so much of them!

Unable to help yourself, you end up channelling it the exact same way you did before. You pinch Seokjin’s cheek, huffing, “Seokjinnie, wake up, I’m hungry.”

Apparently the pinch did the trick, because in the next second he’s cracking his eyes open, blinking blearily. As soon as he catches sight of you—or really, as soon as he registers that it’s you in front of him that he’s been staring at the past few seconds—he freezes, mouth popping open.

He continues staring at you for one, two, three seconds. Then he jerks back like he’s been burned, flinging somewhat haphazardly into a sitting position with a yelped, “y/n!”

You take the opportunity to sit up and climb from the bed now that he’s released your hand, smiling at him cheekily. “Missed me, did you, bub?”

His face erupts into a violent blush, but surprisingly he doesn’t shy away. “No!” he denies, before realising how incriminating his current location and choice of teddy-bear is, and later amending, “… Maybe.”

You laugh, grabbing his hands and pulling him to a stand; fluidly, in the same movement his arms slip around your waist and he curls around you, face going straight to the other side of your neck to perform his daily evening scenting. You allow him until the soft trailing of his nose along your neck tickles too much and you let out a squeak, wriggling out of his hold.

“You guys are gonna kill me one day,” you remark, shaking your head with a smile. Still sleepy, Seokjin returns your smile with a dazed one of his own, his hand coming to clutch your sleeve as you beg to depart from the room. Taehyung rushes ahead to get the door, fluffy russet tail swishing happily behind him. “I missed you both too. What did you get up to today? I mean, besides napping in my bed.”

Seokjin lets out a protest at your teasing, but it doesn’t last long before he’s happily filling you in on the details of the day, running you through its contents in detail. You listen attentively, pulling out utensils and dishes for dinner as you do so. You only pause when Seokjin halts suddenly, and you feel his tentative touch on your elbow.

When you turn to him, it’s a determined, pleading look in his amber-hued eyes that greets you. “Can I cook tonight? I want to learn so I can make dinner for you. You always come back and make it for us after being away most of the day.”

Something akin to fluster creeps under your skin and warms your cheeks—you don’t know what to do with the way his words make your heart throb. “Oh, o-of course. You remember how to make spaghetti?”

At his fervent nodding, you relinquish the items in your hold to him and step back, moving to join Taehyung on the stools at the other side of the counter. Now that he’s gotten his question out of the way, Seokjin resumes his earlier chattering, speaking enough for the three of you. You did have some slight reservations about him cooking by himself, but as you watch you realise that he really has been paying avid attention every time you teach him how to make something. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’d taken notes and studied.

“We wanted to nap on the hammock outside, but it’s not the same without you,” Seokjin pouts, squinting his eyes as he slices onions. “Also, we kind of finished that season of The Dragon Prince without you… sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you answer immediately, before letting out a surprised gasp when something brushes your back. You didn’t even know Taehyung had moved until you feel him pressing against you from behind, slipping his arms over your shoulders to hang slackly and resting his chin on your head. “You’re very cuddly today, Tae.”

“He missed you,” Seokjin supplies without pause, pausing his cutting only to give the younger hybrid a fond look. His peppery tail sways and wags contentedly behind him. “You were gone extra early this morning, and he didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Ah,” you hum in realisation, tilting your head back to meet Taehyung’s gaze, your hand coming to touch one of the arms hanging over your shoulders. “Sorry, Tae. I’ll make sure to say goodbye in the future.”

To your utter surprise, the dhole hybrid lets out a sound oddly like a mew and a chirp blended into one. He brings his arms to hug your shoulders, face burying into your hair happily; you can feel his ears flick against your head and you focus on that instead of the way his hand had accidentally brushed against your chest when he moved his arm.

“You’re forgiven,” Seokjin informs you, amused. His words bring a smile to your face.

Seokjin is quick and concise while making your dinner, but spends a fair amount of time in the final stages making sure it tastes just right. By the time the food is served and steaming in a bowl in front of you, it’s barely been forty minutes and you’ve never been hungrier. The smell alone in the last twenty minutes has had you salivating consistently.

To Seokjin’s credit, it’s delicious and honestly better than your own cooking. You make sure to tell him so and he blushes, shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth to hide his happy smile. The praise makes him glow with pride for the rest of the evening, Taehyung telling him in his own way that he enjoyed the meal too. You wonder if Seokjin would be interested in looking up other recipes, and make a note to look into finding a recipe book for him.

After eating, the three of you move somewhat lazily to the living room to watch something before you retire. Well, you say that loosely. What really happens as soon as you sit on the lounge is that your two hybrids lay on top of you and command all your attention in the form of cuddles. You’re so happy that things have resumed the way they were, better even. You feel soothed, and surprisingly a little bit giddy with anticipation for how things can only go up from here. As you turn on Netflix and catch up on the series they’d watched without you, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray to what is going to happen as soon as you call bedtime.

Honestly, you haven’t paused and let it sink in that you found Jin napping on your bed earlier. Do they do it often? It would explain a lot—namely the way your bed when you come home would sometimes be in a different way to how you left it in the morning. It also makes sense considering you’ve noticed how drawn they are to your room. It’s not like it’s explicitly out of bounds for them, but you get the sense that to them it’s a topic that they don’t know how to approach yet. You wonder if tonight you will catch them lingering on the way past your door again.

A few hours and several episodes later reveals that the answer is: yes.

You’ve just finished changing into your pyjamas, some shorts and a loose, thin singlet, when you catch familiar shadows moving from underneath your door. You smile, stretching as you make your way to the door as quietly as possible.

When you swing it open and catch two hybrids standing hesitantly outside it, you promptly scare the living daylights out of them.

“Sorry,” you say, grinning at the way Taehyung pouts grumpily at you and Seokjin places a hand over his heart. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing outside my door?”

At your question, their faces draw a blank. Apparently, they hadn’t realised that you noticed their usual lingering.

“Um,” Seokjin bites his lip, canines digging softly into the plump flesh. “No?”

You try not to laugh, for his sake. Your hybrids always blush to easily and while they look cute when they do you kind of wonder if there’s any long-term side effects of having that much blood rush to your head on the regular.

The longer the interaction goes on, the more flustered he gets. “Um. We were just going to bed. Goodnight—”

You don’t miss the way Taehyung smacks his arm, giving him a pointed look, and you decide to be the bolder person in this case. You made a promise to yourself after last time that you were going to be more attentive and proactive, and so here you are! Doesn’t mean you can’t tease them a little while you have mercy on them, though.

“Oh,” you say, letting out a sigh. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to sleep in here tonight, but if you want to go to your own bed it’s o—”

The way their eyes light up is almost comical, Seokjin cutting you off hurriedly. “No! No, we don’t want to—I mean, we like our bed, but i-if we can, um, sleep in yours…”

You opt not to say anything, simply stepping back and opening your door to them. They dart inside like they’re scared you’re going to change your mind, diving onto your bed and worming beneath the covers in record timing—you have to laugh as you climb into the space they left you in the middle. Using your remote, you make sure the light is off and your fan is on since you have a feeling you’re going to wake up overheated.

It’s only the fairy lights framing your window that cast a soft, blue glow over the handsome curves of your hybrids’ faces now, both of their eyes trained on you as you settled down onto your back. As soon as you’re comfortable, they dive forward and plant their faces in the respective sides of your neck they’ve claimed.

“Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs after a moment, nosing against your skin and inhaling softly. “It’s… a hybrid thing. Being around your scent is really… calming.”

“Oh,” you say, flustered. “So long as I don’t stink, then. Tell me if I insult your nose.”

“I don’t think you could ever smell bad, y/n,” he confesses lowly, Taehyung humming softly in agreement. The vibrations against your skin almost make you shudder.

“I’m flattered but I can assure you that’s not true,” you laugh, breath hitching as Seokjin buries his face further into your neck, nosing along your hairline.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, wriggling closer and hugging you tight. Taehyung almost fights him for the privilege of having an arm around your waist but settles for looping it over your ribs instead. “Go to sleep, ‘m sleepy.”

You roll your eyes, wondering how you never noticed his sassy streak earlier on, but oblige his request. Its warm in their hold, and as it usually does you find yourself quickly melting into the security of it, sleep coming easily. You pass out, limbs intertwined with those of your hybrids as you all slip into your respective dreams.

x—x—x

About midway through the night you find yourself waking, eyes blinking blearily at the ceiling before you even realise you’ve been roused from sleep. For a moment, you find yourself sifting through the fog of sleep in your mind for the reason why you’ve woken, until you become aware of a sensation at your neck.

It’s wet, you realise belatedly at the feeling of cool air brushing your sensitive skin, but that’s not all. Warmth travels down your spine and your thighs twitch with the urge to move at another sensation, one that takes you another moment to identify.

Someone… is sucking on your neck?

Your brain, even still hazy with sleep, is quick to piece it together after that. It’s Taehyung, soft chitters escaping him as his chest thrums with something akin to a purr against your shoulder. He’s still asleep, you surmise, but even in sleep he’s really ravaging your neck. Each soft suckle of your skin into his mouth is paired with the scrape of his teeth, a shudder fighting to roll down your spine as something a little too synonymous with pleasure shoots through you.

Distantly, you know you should push him off of you, but your head is so fuzzy and your heart is doing a tumble routine in your chest. You go to push him away softly by placing a hand on his shoulder but only end up bunching it in the material of his shirt when he moves lower and huffs before attaching his mouth to the tender junction of your neck and shoulder. The whine that rises in your throat thankfully gets caught before it can escape, your hand sliding up from Taehyung’s shoulder to touch his cheek.

Your finger accidentally brushes his mouth, but what catches you more off-guard is that he immediately detaches his mouth from your neck and goes for your finger instead, the hand wedged between you two holding it to his face as he nibbles and licks the skin there instead, much more gently than he had your neck. You think your heart is about to give out, but now that the sensations aren’t so overwhelming, you find yourself sinking back into sleep once more. You’re so tired, after all, and it’s so warm… it doesn’t take you long at all before you’re snoozing away once more.

x—x—x

When you went back to sleep, you weren’t expecting to be thrown back into a dream—but you have a fleeting realisation, for just a moment, that that’s where you’ve ended up.

Everything is a little foggy.

“you—you won’t… you never…”

You pause—you’re waiting for him to continue. You’re in his room, and you don’t know where Taehyung is. The shower? Maybe. Seokjin is confessing something to you, something to do with his hybrid nature. It filters through your brain—you’ve messed up again, but it’s something different this time…

“Why are you upset, Jin? You scent me, Taehyung scents me. I thought that was what you needed to feel more comfortable? And at ease?” you push softly, prodding for an answer that will finally enlighten you. You’re on the bed now, reaching for his hands—were you on the bed before? You can’t remember, but it somehow makes sense that you’re there now. His hands are startlingly, lucidly warm in your own.

“Y-yes! We do! Because we care about you!” his tone has grown sharper now, voice lower and rougher. “But you—you don’t do it, and you never do it, so how are we supposed to f—”

It clicks into place in your head about midway through his rant, what has got him all bothered this time—the information comes to you like a premonition. A hum escapes you, and you shuffle closer to him on the bed, watching his gaze rest elsewhere. At least, it does until he feels your hands come to his waist where it blends into the sight flare of his hips, material bunching in your grasp.

Maybe its because a part of you can tell that this is far too fuzzy and far-fetched to be real, that this is really just a dream, but something foreign and brazen wells up in you, fills every inch of your body like a hand slipping into a glove. You’ve never had these thoughts before, but at the same time… they don’t feel unfamiliar. The urge you’re feeling isn’t one you recognise but it doesn’t feel out of place.

Even so, when you move you’re surprised by your own boldness—its like you’re only controlling a portion of your own body, and the rest of it is acting out a script you’ve never seen.

“You think I don’t care about you because I haven’t ever scented you, Jinnie?” you ask, tone soft but clear.  His ears flick towards you before flying back, his tail flicking once behind him. His cheeks are a familiar pink, but the heaviness of his golden eyes isn’t something you recognise—you struggle to discern, even in your dreamlike state of omnipotence, exactly what you’re seeing. An optimistic thought whispers across your mind; is it yearning you glimpse? “Even though I tell you every day, and every night, how much you mean to me?”

Seokjin stumbles over his words as he fumbles with his grip on you, eyes wide and stuck on your face. You don’t remember the transition, don’t think it even happened, but his back is pressed to the pillows now, and you hover above him. The soft cotton in your grasp is all too easily pushed up to allow your fingers to brush his skin—wasn’t his shirt different before? It’s not important enough to keep you occupied.

“N-no, I mean y-yes, b-but you—”

“Alright, Seokjin, I understand,” you breathe, meeting his gaze and taking in the way he shudders at your words, confusion flicking across his features. “You want me to scent you? I’ll scent you.”

The poor fox hybrid doesn’t even have a chance to orient himself after those words before you’re swinging a thigh over his hips, knees pressing into the lush bedding. He scrambles to adjust out of instinct, unintentionally helping you in the process as he tips you forward, your face landing against his neck. Immediately, he freezes, the slightest sound catching in his throat, and you know you’re on the right track. Distantly, you realise the dream would have carried you here no matter what.

You allow your arms to slip and embrace him, laying against him for a moment until you feel his racing heart calm just a tad; it’s an odd detail that sticks out to you amongst the fog of everything else. Then, you turn your head and take in a long, deep breath, and it starts thudding frantically away all over again. His hands clutch the material of your shirt tentatively, chest moving yours with it with each inhale.

Realising where your face is pressed, somewhat playfully you smile and hum against the smooth skin of his neck, feeling his whole body shudder beneath you in response. He rasps, voice thick, “y-y/n—”

He doesn’t finish whatever he begins to say, though, because in the next second you’re nuzzling your face against him, tip of your nose brushing the dip beneath his jaw before it’s replaced by your lips. He chokes mid-sentence, breath catching audibly in his throat, and you’ve never been so endeared and… other things, in your life.

Yearning, yearning, yearning—it fills you to the brim and you feel you’re about to overflow.

You don’t give him much of a chance to adjust, especially since you suddenly recall exactly how he was when you first let him scent you, barely a week ago.

At the sudden sensation of your tongue dragging along the flesh beneath his jaw, Seokjin jerks and whines.

You blink your eyes open, the harshness of the sunlight filtering in through the window making you snap them shut once more.

What. The fuck.

The details of the dream are still fresh in your mind, but you can feel them slipping away even as you ease your eyes open to check where you are. Okay, you’re in your room. What just happened, didn’t happen. What even…

As you lay and mull over the contents of your current reality, it sinks in exactly who and what happened in your dream—instantly, your face burns. You’re mortified, and only now do you suddenly recall the two hybrids that had been sharing your bed.

One of which, you just almost had a raunchy dream about.

To your surprise, though, when your gaze flicks to either side of you, the bed is empty of anyone but yourself. Instantly, relief flushes through you. They probably got up to make breakfast, and of course they have no idea about the contents of your dream. You’re just being paranoid because you’re somewhat ashamed right now.

God, you need to repent—but you’ll do that later. In the meantime, you’re just thankful that your two hybrid housemates are none the wiser to the mess that is currently going on in your brain.

Little do you know, that the reason they’d fled your bed early was because of the telling, sweet scent that begin to sink into their senses partway through your dream, and the instincts that had begun to rise within them in response to it.

a/n: happy birthday to me!! please let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed by leaving a like n reblog!!!! <3 <3

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[troubatrain]

wildfire - b. boeser

a/n: this a repost from my old blog - so for a second time i hope you enjoy!

Summers in Minnesota were your favorite, there was no doubt about it. You could travel around the world three times over and you were positive the lake in your hometown was more important to you than any other wonder of the world. Summer was about lazy days on the water, and this summer, actively avoiding the post graduation real life job search you were going to be on come September. It was late night house parties with the people you’d missed throughout the year, and seeing the one person who made your heart flutter in your chest like no other.

You grip your drink tighter, watching Brock while he works the room. You weren’t surprised when your phone lit up with a text from him about throwing the first party of the summer, it came at the same time every year. He didn’t look much different than he had when you saw him last, his hair a bit longer, his shoulders just a bit broader, but he was still the same. He was walking around his house, greeting guests with his million dollar smile.

“You’re going to do this to yourself again?” Your thoughts are broken by your best friend, Parker, the brunette shaking her head at you, “It’s the same story every year Y/N, you have this romantic summer and come September you both chicken out on letting it last.”

You sigh, knowing your friend was right. It wasn’t that it was Brock’s fault and you could fall under this narrative that he was a player, because it just wasn’t true. Brock was really good to you, and sometimes you thought maybe it could work. But distance was a bitch, and you couldn’t just give your heart to him to have when he’s a million miles away with a schedule that’s as crazy as his.

“I’m not doing it this year,” You say, and even you knew you were lying through your teeth, “It’s not happening.”

You slip out of the room, heading up the stairs to find somewhere quiet to collect your thoughts. You knew you were going to cave the second Brock spoke to you, you always did. He was intoxicating, and he was always there, the same song and dance every summer since you’d been nineteen. It's gotten to the point where you once dumped the guy you’d been seeing because you knew Brock was going to be back home waiting for you. You walk past the bathroom, hearing the sounds of someone hooking up on the other side, and you keep walking into a room you knew all too well.

You slip into Brock’s room, Coolie immediately hopping off the bed and greeting you, his new brother following him to smell you. You sit on the floor, petting both of the dogs until you can hear the door click open.

“I knew I’d find you in here,” Brock chuckles, it wasn’t the first time you’d slipped out of a party to see his dog who’d been finding refuge in his owner's bedroom. Milo trotted over to Brock, his tail wagging in the air with excitement while Coolie remained at your feet, “I think he missed you.”

“I don’t blame him, who’s going to give him treats without telling his dad,” You muse, remembering how many times Brock caught you spoiling his dog, it wasn’t your fault he was cute and you were a sucker. Brock walks over to you, his hand out for you to grab. Your fingers locked with his while he pulled you off the ground, pulling you close enough to feel his breath on you.

“You want to stay tonight?” Brock asks, a smirk gracing his face. It was the way he asked, every summer, and if your answer was yes you knew what else you were agreeing to. Another few months of bliss, followed by a month of heartbreak and tears before you picked yourself up again. You’d mend your own back together only for it to be broken again. Brock nudges you with his nose, his lips ghosting yours, waiting for his answer before he could finally kiss you.

“I’ll stay.”

--

With your declaration of staying that night, you’d fallen into the same pattern you always have. You stayed at Brock’s more than your own house, and you’d been with him almost everyday since that night, much to Parker’s dismay. You were laying out on Brock’s boat, the dogs at your feet while you watched Brock fish on the other side. The view was something else, aside from the beauty of the lake that you were sitting on, you were getting a full view of the muscles on Brock’s back, his summer tan on full display.

“Stop staring at me,” Brock calls out, turning around and smirking at you, “I can feel your eyes boring into me.”

“It’s a good view,” You joke.

“Is that all I’m good for?” Brock jokes back, “I’m just pretty.”

“The prettiest,” You snap back, tucking your nose back into the book you were reading.

“That’s actually you,” Brock says, walking over to you and placing both of his hands on either side of you, leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on your lips, “You’re beautiful.”

Brock’s compliments were cut short by Milo hopping onto your lap and lightly nibbling his owner’s nose for bothering you. While Coolie had always followed you around Brock’s house, Milo had taken a few more days to warm up to you. But, he was on your side now and that meant Brock was public enemy number one.

“I think they’d choose you if they had the chance,” Brock teases, but a part believed it might actually have been true.

You watched Brock walk back over to his fishing pole, and you could have sworn you heard the sound a camera click but you decided to ignore it. That was until there was notification on your phone that Brock had tagged you in his Instagram story. You open it, it was a photo of you with the dogs at your feet, and you turn to Brock who’d been minding his own business. You weren’t mad, it was just that although every one of your friends, and you were pretty sure your families, knew about you and Brock’s weird summer arrangement because it had gotten past the point of trying to hide it, there was never any evidence of it. Aside from the occasional chirp on one of your Instagram posts, it was like you and Brock didn’t even know each other.

“Brock…” You say, dragging out his name and walking over to him, your arms snaking around his waist. You press a light kiss to his back, “Did you really have to do that?”

“Can’t show off my girl and my dogs?” Brock asks, turning back to you and kissing your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, my girl.”

--

The problem with your arrangement with Brock was that he was actually a decent temporary boyfriend. He kept your favorite flavor of ice cream in his house, he gave you endless hoodies when the temperatures would start to drop, and he held your hand when you were out in public. He never hid whatever was going on between the two of you like it was some shameful secret, and you’re pretty sure that’s why you keep coming back. It just feels so real when you’re together you’d never been able to pull yourself away from him. But then you’d remind yourself that this is temporary, and nothing this perfect could last anyways.

“-I heard that he’s got like three girls in Vancouver,” You hear someone at the table next to your say, and you can feel Parker’s foot kick you under the table to get your attention. They were talking about Brock, and you tried to tune them out but you couldn’t. It ate you up at night, when you’d start to think about what Brock’s life in Vancouver was like. He was young, successful, and the team was playing well. You knew he had girls lined up waiting for their chance with him. You didn’t expect him not to give anyone the time of day, he didn’t belong to you. But the words from the girls next to you had your stomach churning, and you wanted nothing more than to walk over to Brock on the other side of the bar to stake your claim. You weren’t possessive or jealous, well you were, but you didn’t need him to know that. So you stayed in your seat, sipping your drink and eavesdropping about whatever rumor was circling about Brock.

“You’re not going to do anything about that?” Parker asks, her eyebrows raising at you.

“He doesn’t belong to me,” You say, your temper rising by the second, “I’m just going to go.”

You stomp out of the bar with your feet moving as fast as they could. You walked in what you assumed was the direction of your house, but after a few blocks, you’d realized you’d been so upset you didn’t know where you were going. You finally stop hearing a huff behind you.

“I’ve been walking behind you this entire time, how did you not notice me?” Brock breathes out, shaking his head at you, “I could’ve been a murderer.”

You close your eyes, turning away from Brock and continuing on your directionless walk, “Not the time Brock.”

You can feel his large hand wrap around your elbow gently, pulling you closer to him, “What’s up?”

“It’s not important,” You whisper, putting your hand on Brock’s chest to push him away, but your hand just tangles itself into the chain on his neck when his arms tighten around you to keep you in his arms, “Brock…”

“Let’s go home,” Brock says, realizing he isn’t going to get you to budge on opening up to him in the middle of the sidewalk, “Please.”

You nod, and you follow him to his truck that had been parked by the bar. You hop in and ride back to his house in silence. You knew you owed him an explanation as to why you rushed out of the bar with the intent of walking home and crying alone, but you couldn’t tell him without admitting that you were jealous.

The sounds of the dogs barking at the truck pulling into the driveway was the only thing that broke you out of your thoughts. You smile, slipping inside to see the two best boys in your life at the current moment. You watch as they both follow you into Brock’s room, and you grab one of his t-shirts, the Canucks logo on your chest and his number on your shoulder.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong now?” Brock asks, sitting at the edge of his bed, his eyes wandering your body in his clothes. You shake your head no, walking over to him and wrapping your legs around his waist, tucking your head into his neck, “C’mon, Y/N.”

“Just something I heard from the girls that were sitting next to us,” You mutter out, feeling Brock’s hand weaving your hair in an attempt to comfort you, and it was working, “About you, and girls, and your life in Vancouver.”

You can hear Brock sigh, and you didn’t know what you were expecting to hear, “You know, one time when I played the Wild, Parker told me you were at a wedding with some guy you were seeing and that’s why you weren’t in town that day. I couldn’t shake the idea of you with someone else from my brain, and I broke three sticks that game.”

“You were jealous?” You ask, finally picking your head up and looking at him.

“So jealous,” Brock mutters, pecking at your lips, “But then you came home for the summer and so did I and it seemed to work itself out.”

“You’re a good guy Brock,” You say, kissing him slowly, “It’s actually almost a little annoying.”

“You keep coming back though,” Brock chuckles, pulling you closer and flopping back onto his bed.

“I always do.”

--

The Fourth of July was admittedly, Brock’s all time favorite holiday. Every year his annual barbeque seemed to just get bigger, and crazier. This year was no different, you were watching someone set up a giant inflatable water slide that led right into the lake, and in another corner of the yard was a couple of your friends setting up the drinks. The house was decorated elaborately with red white and blue decorations.

“Hey can you put these on the dogs?” Brock asks, chucking two bandanas at you.

You catch the bandanas, laughing to yourself about how they matched the red, white and blue shirt Brock was sporting, the buttons in the front completely undone, “I’m making you take a picture after this.”

“Only if you’re in it too,” Brock says, kissing the side of your head, “A family photo.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and can feel a blush creep onto your cheeks. This summer was different than the ones from the past, Brock was unapologetic about the way he felt about you. He was so much more vocal about it than he used to be.

You didn’t see much of Brock that day, mainly because you sure he invited every person he’s ever met to his party. But you spent most of the day mingling with friends, falling into a lengthy conversation with Brock’s sister who’d been trying to pry into what the nature of your relationship was for years. You always gave her the same answer, a small shrug and telling her that you were just friends even though she’d call you out on lie. By the time the sun went down, you were tipsy and you hadn’t seen Brock once all day. Your phone vibrates next to you, pulling you out of your conversation with Parker about the job she’d just interviewed for.

meet me on my balcony in 5

You smile, excusing yourself from the conversation and making your way upstairs to Brock’s bedroom. You slip in, smiling when you see Brock sitting on the edge of his bed, tossing his phone in the air

“C’mon,” Brock smiles, standing up and grabbing your hand and opening the door to the balcony, you both step out and you turn to him with a confused look on your face.

“Why’d you call me up here?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.

“It’s the best view for this,” Brock says, pointing to the lake where fireworks had started going off. You weren’t even surprised by the final grand idea Brock had for the Fourth of July. You smile, wrapping your arms around his waist while you watched the colors burst in the sky in front of you, “Too much?” 

“No, it’s perfect.”

--

Elias Pettersson was a bit of an odd guy, but he’d been nothing but kind to you since the moment his plane landed down in Minnesota, a break from his summer in Sweden. Now he was sitting at the large island in Brock’s house, who’d stepped out to head to the store, while you continued with the dinner you were cooking for the three of you.

“So, this actually happens every summer?” Elias asks, grabbing your attention, “I thought Brock was just bullshitting us.”

“Brock talks about me?” You ask, trying to get a grip on exactly how much about your relationship Elias actually knew.

“He does, not to everyone, but when I ask him about his summer he always raves about this girl who he spends it with,” Elias starts, gesturing to you, “I assume that’s you.”

“Is that all he says?” You ask, trying to pry into what Brock was saying about you. You can admit, you wanted to hear every detail so you could overthink it forever. You could torture yourself with knowing whether or not his feelings for you were real or not.

“Is that all who says?” Brock asks, stepping back into the house, dropping the bags on the counter and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Nothing, we were just talking about how much a loser you are,” Elias says, giving you a wink, a secret acknowledgement that your desperate plea for information would be kept between the two of you.

Long after dinner, and a two movies, Elias had headed into the guest room he was staying in and you were sitting on the couch, sipping some tea before bed and reading the rest of the book you’d intended on finishing weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you’re still up,” Brock says, closing the sliding door to the backyard behind him, “You want to tell me what embarrassing things Petey told you before or am I going to have to pry it out of him tomorrow?”

“Nothing embarrassing, he was just asking about us,” You say, smiling at him, “Everyone does Brock.”

“I know,” Brock nods, grabbing the mug out of your hands and sitting next to you on the couch, pulling you into his chest, “Does it bother you? That you don’t have an answer.”

Yes it does. It drives me absolutely insane that I’ve been in love with you for years of my life but I never feel like you’re actually mine.

“No, it doesn’t”

--

The moment Elias left to head back to Europe for the rest of his summer, Brock had been giving you the silent treatment. You’d gone to the airport with them, and with Elias’s last words about how he better see you in Vancouver at least once this fall, Brock had gone mute. He didn’t look at you once on the entire ride back to his house, and now he was moving around his kitchen, moving things that didn’t need to be moved while he continued to ignore you.

“Brock, what the fuck is your problem?” You finally call out, breaking the silence. In all of the years you’d been together, if that’s what you could even call it, you never actually had gotten into more than a small argument. Even then, Brock never gave you the cold shoulder.

“I don’t have a problem,” Brock defends, when there clearly was a problem.

“Is this about what Elias said?” You ask, waiting for an answer but you see how silent Brock had gotten, you knew the answer was yes, “Is the idea of being with me that bad? You can’t even fathom the idea of seeing me when we’re not home? Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Have you ever thought about how I feel?” Brock shouts back, “Like I have to hear everyone in my life there tell me how fucking wonderful you are and then I have to admit to them that I’m too scared to tell you how I feel? That I love you, so much, but I don’t think I’m enough for you, or that I think you deserve someone who can give you the world but I can’t promise that so I just keep trying to hold onto you the best I can.”

This time, you fell silent. The look on Brock’s face went from tense to the realization of what he actually just said to you. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you too.”

“If you came to Vancouver, I don’t want you to leave,” Brock says, looking at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips while he waits for your answer.

Your futures always seemed like they’d been heading in the same direction. That Brock was your right person, wrong time relationship. But one day, you always imagined things would work out, and you’d finally have a light at the end of the tunnel. Moving to a new city could be a risk, but Brock had been the biggest constant in your life, and there wasn’t a doubt that if you left with him - he’d never let you go.

“I’ll go.”

[peachyteez]

second chances ≫ DAY FIVE, HESITATION.

as a feral wolf hybrid that was violent with all of the employees assigned to him, seonghwa was subjected to be put down. however, jiyu being the softhearted feral hybrid nurse she was, she decided to save seonghwa no matter what.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme, @t-tbinnie, @multi-bookmarkscripts, @hello-its-ya-boi, @sunsethw4, @chanyeolol,

can’t be tagged: @sherzess

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: will she adopt him or will she not? :)

back。| next。

“yeonjun, what’s this?” jiyu gestured to the adoption transfer papers on her desk.

yeonjun softly smiled. “they’re seonghwa’s transfer forms. to the adoption center of kq.”

jiyu felt as if she was hit with a ton of bricks. how could she forget? seonghwa was like any other hybrid; once he was deemed recovered and safe, he had to be transferred to the adoption center in hopes of finding a family.

perhaps she knew deep down, but she wanted to deny it for as long as she could. within the four days she’s known him, he proved to be the complete opposite of what her coworkers described him to be. he wasn’t violent, he was just protective. not only that, but he was friendly and a comforting soul.

jiyu forced a smile. “oh, right. thanks for getting them for me.”

yeonjun saw right through her facade. he knew. he knew how she unconsciously grew attached to the wolf hybrid. how knew happy seonghwa made her, even if it wasn’t obvious to others.

which is why he brought out another sheet of paper and pushed it towards her. an actual adoption form.

jiyu stared at it. “what, don’t tell me you want to adopt him.”

“i–what? no, not me! it’s for you!” he deadpanned.

“...for me?”

“i’m not blind, ji. i can see how happy he makes you. even if you don’t see it yourself,” he wryly smiled.

jiyu slightly pushed the paper back towards yeonjun woth a saddened look. “you know i can’t. i’m not here forever. it wouldn’t be fair to him if i had to give him up after a year.”

yeonjun pushed it back. “look, i get it. but you’re only thinking about the future. think about now, ji. don’t be so caught up in your future that you forget to live in the present.”

jiyu mulled over his words. they held some truth to them. she had been so anxious recently about how she had to go back home in year, that it she completely forgot to live out her life for however long she had left. she reached out for the adoption paper and stuffed it in her folder.

“i’ll think about it.”

and she did. actually, it was the only thing on her mind for majority of the day. yeonjun’s words kept replaying over and over again in her mind like a broken record.

and before she knew it, she was standing outside seonghwa’s door for his weekly checkup. she couldn’t bring herself to go in. should i even bring up adoption? is he even comfortable with the idea?

“you know what? you’re overthinking,” she chastised herself as she entered the code in for seonghwa’s door.

“what were you overthinking?”

seonghwa was standing directly behind the door on the other side, so when the door automatically opened, jiyu was met with a curious seonghwa looking down at her. she jumped back in shock. “oh my god, you scared me!” she squeaked.

seonghwa sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. his ears were angled downwards. “sorry. i smelled your scent from here, but you weren’t coming in so...”

“aww, do you miss me?” she teasingly drawled out, laughing when his ears immediately stood up in alert and his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

“n–no! i mean–maybe, but—”

“your tail says it all, hwa,” she gestured to his energetically–wagging tail with a laugh.

seonghwa reached behind him to hold on to his tail, embarrassed. “i—”

five minutes passed with jiyu teasing an embarrassed seonghwa. if anyone were to witness the scene, they would’ve forgotten that they were in the feral ward. suddenly, she remembered the adoption papers from earlier and she bit the inside of her cheek.

“hey, seonghwa,” she called out to the hybrid as she got her stethoscope ready for his checkup. hearing a hum of acknowledgement, she took a deep breath. “how do you feel about adoption?” she carefully asked.

his body tensed. adoption. something that he was desperately trying to avoid. he didn’t want to go home with the wrong people again. especially not after them.

jiyu noted his stiff body and face full of what seemed to be nervousness or anxiety. she waved her hand in front of his face. “hey, you okay?” she gently asked.

seonghwa blinked as he snapped out of his memories. “huh? oh...yeah.”

jiyu slightly pouted her lips as placed the stethoscope on his chest. “i’m going to take that as a no–you’re–not–ready–for–adoption silence. take a deep breath in and out.”

following her instructions, seonghwa inhaled and exhaled as she moved the stethoscope to different parts of his chest. he furrowed an eyebrow. “does someone...want to adopt me?” he hesitantly asked.

“not necessarily yet,” jiyu answered as she reached over for the thermometer and cleaning it. “it’s just...you can be transferred to the adoption center soon. so i was just curious.”

as she explained, she raised the thermomenter up to his forehead and pressed the button. hearing the beep a moment later, she removed it and jotted his temperature down in his file.

“i’m leaving?” he asked. jiyu swore she heard some sadness in his voice, but she didn’t want to overthink.

“things aren’t decided, so i don’t really know for sure yet.” she reached for the blood pressure machine. “arm, please.” jiyu wrapped the band around his arm and started the machine. “sorry i know it goes pretty tight.”

seonghwa slightly grimmanced when the band grew tighter and tighter around his arm. he swears he can never get used to it. finally, after an eternity, he felt the band loosen up. “how about you?” he asked as jiyu removed the band and took note of his blood pressure. “any hybrids?”

“nope,” she answered with a wry smile. “ironic, isn’t it. a hybrid caretaker who doesn’t even have one herself.”

“have you ever wanted to adopt one?”

jiyu pursed her lips. “i don’t know, actually. i can barely take care of myself as it is,” she lightly joked.

but seonghwa remembered something from her phone call. you’re practically playing god in my life!

“you can’t because you actually can’t? or is it because you don’t have control over yourself?” he asked. he had no idea what surge of confidence he had at that moment for him to ask something like that.

jiyu froze; just how much of her phone call did he actually hear? while it was true that her life was technically controlled by her father, it was her decision to not grow too attached to any hybrids, in fear that it’ll make leaving way to difficult for her to handle.

seonghwa figured he hit the nail on the head. the next words that came out of his mouth shocked the both of them. “how about you adopt me?”

to say that jiyu was stunned was an understatement. she didn’t know what to say, heck, she didn’t even know if he meant it. biting the inside of her cheek, jiyu looked away from seonghwa with a conflicted expression.

“i–i mean...” seonghwa couldn’t find the words to explain himself. he didn’t even know what came over him to suggest that. maybe there was that small part of him that desperately wished it was jiyu that wanted to adopt him. she’s given him nothing but her love and attention, something that his previous owners failed to give him.

her conflicted expression made him frown. was adopting him that bad of an idea? did he overthink her kindness when in reality, she treated all of her hybrid patients like that?

“...i don’t know if you actually meant what you said,” jiyu quietly broke the silence. “but it’d be a lie if i said adoption never crossed my mind. adopting you, that is.”

seonghwa felt his world pause. she wanted to adopt him? then what was holding her back?

“but to be honest, you’re right. i don’t have a lot of control over my life,” she sadly admitted while playing around with her pen.

“...then make it your’s,” seonghwa mumbled. he figured it was his turn to help jiyu after all that she’s done for him. part of him understood how she felt; after all, his previous owners used him for their own benefits. “it’s your life. no one has the right to control you for whatever reason. giving in to their control just means you’ve given up on your own freedom.”

his words pierced jiyu like a knife. has she given up on her own freedom? or was she too afraid to try to gain her freedom back? or was it both?

sensing her hesitation, he softly smiled. not his usual smirk, but a genuine, small smile. “if it helps, i meant my suggestion. but please don’t think it’s only out of my own hybrid wishes,” he explained.

jiyu stood up from the chair and gathered her belongings. shooting seonghwa a smile of her own, she opened his door to continue on to her next hybrid’s room. “thank you, seonghwa. and i’ll think about your offer. i just...need some time.”

and with that, she left.

seonghwa sighed. “way to go, idiot. what were you thinking?” he quietly berated himself as he rested his head in his hands.

but unbeknownst to seonghwa, jiyu stood outside his room, staring at a filled out adoption form with his name on it with an apprehensive expression.

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder Ch. 5

A/N: Oh, boy! I’ve personally been waiting on doing this chapter. There’s a bit of a curve ball in our favorite couple’s journey back together. If y’all thought y’all hated me in Chapter 1, then get ready for this chapter. 😘😘😘

Word Count: 2.2K

Warning(s): Slow burn, plot progression, few errors/typos

The months following Yaa’s most recent encounter with her ex-boyfriend left her more hurt and emotionally distant than before. She didn’t go out like she usually did; her nights out were substituted with take out and binge-watching movies and TV shows. She wasn’t as bubbly as she usually was. In an attempt to distract herself from her pain, she turned to her drug of choice: work. At any given moment, Yaa was more than likely working if she weren’t sleeping or eating. She took on a heavier workload and miraculously met success with the cases she worked on. As the year came to a close, Yaa had realized that her year had been trash. She lost the love of her life over some fuck shit and realized that her love life, if you could even call it that, was a joke.

Everyone around Yaa hated to see her in such a sad state. She’d said she was fine but everyone knew she was suffering. So much so, her family surprised her for Christmas in D.C. and stayed with her for a week. While the surprise visit definitely boosted her spirits, she continued working her frustrations out. She’d felt played—she’d allowed the supposed love of he life to take advantage of their relationship twice. She was physically, emotionally,and spiritually tired.

Her luck changed with a call from Tanisha one afternoon.

“Clear your schedule for New Year’s Eve: you got invited to the Black Gatsby soirée by Mr. Gatsby himself.”, Tanisha stated in a matter of fact.

Yaa took the phone away from her ear and stared at it, fully aware of Tanisha’s distant voice calling her name. “Girl, what?”

“You heard me. Mr. Gatsby has invited yo fine ass to the Black soirée on New Year’s Eve.”

“Mr. Gatsby? Bitch, you know he’s a fictional white character from a book,right? Not just any book—my favorite book. Francis Scott Fitzgerald would somersault in his grave if he knew a Black man was tryna play his character.”

Tanisha snorted. “I know. For the sake of anonymity, that’s what he’s referring to himself as. Just come to Cali and live ,bitch. I’m sick of seeing you all sad and overworked and shit. You deserve more; you’re 24 and full of life. Ring in the new year with a refreshing turn up. Live a little, bitch. I’ll be calling again this week to make sure you’re coming.” Beep beep beep.

Yaa spent the rest of that day thinking about what Tanisha said. Who was Mr. Gatsby? What did he want her ? Finding out his identity and his motives were the least of her worries. As rough as her year was, she deserved to party like it was 1922. Live a little, bitch.

———

Yaa spent the next month speculating who this Mr. Gatsby character could be. He’d sent many gifts On what would’ve been her and Winston’s first anniversary, Gatsby sent 3 dozen of her favorite roses— pink, white, and yellow— to her office with a note:

You deserve more today. Think not of what should be, but what is now.—JG

For Christmas, Gatsby sent Yaa a gold circle necklace with a single pearl dangling from the middle of the circle. Same note. These grandiose gestures left Yaa shook: she’d been out-extra’d by an anonymous admirer. She immediately ruled Winston out because he just wasn’t a frivolous spender and though he was being a fuck nigga at the moment, he was too humble to even think about doing all the things Gatsby had done for and sent her.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014, Malibu, California

Matt picked Yaa up from the airport per usual. On the way to Malibu, he picked Tanisha up as well. While en route to the house, Tanisha caught Matt up with the tea involving his ex-turned-best friend.

“Wait...so there’s a secret admirer...calling himself ‘Gatsby’...only communicates through Neesh...and is inviting you to a New Year’s party?! What the hell?”, Matt recalled.

“Well, I’ll say this: she knows who he is, but he’s not giving up his identity just yet.”, Tanisha suggested. Yaa’s neck whipped to look at Tanisha’s smirking face; she wasn’t lying.

“So, it’s not Wins? Confirmed?”, Yaa asked.

“I’m absolutely, positively certain it’s not Winston, sis. Buhlee dat!”, Tanisha assured.

Something told Yaa to check her mailbox. True, she didn’t have reasons to have mail after being away from her Malibu home for not even two months, but it never hurt to look. When she looked inside, she was met with a matte black envelope. The words “ Khalida Y.D. Abdullah, Esq.” were beautifully calligraphed on the front of the envelope in gold ink. She turned the envelope to see “JG” stamped in gold wax. Homeboy puttin’ in that work. Before she opened the envelope, she noticed a medium-sized box wrapped in a similar matte black wrapping paper.

“Boy, this nigga tryna gift you clean out yo draws, I see.”, Matt observed as he picked the box up for Yaa, scaring her.

“You sound a pinch jealous, Griff.”, Yaa teased.

Matt rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I gave you the world and a Super Bowl ring, woman. Remember that.”

“Correction: you gave me one of my two rings. Don’t play with me.”, she playfully snapped back, kissing his nose as he walked into the house with the box.

He gently sat the box in front of Yaa’s usual spot on her L-shaped sectional. Tanisha finally joined Matt and Yaa in the living room and took notice of Gatsby’s packages. Yaa kicked the box over on its side.

“The hell you do that for?!”, Tanisha demanded.

“Bitch, this coulda been a well packaged pipe bomb for all its worth.”, Yaa answered.

Tanisha wagged her finger at her best friend. “Somebody needs to ban Forensic Files from your Netflix queue.”

Yaa rolled her eyes as she began opening the envelope. Whoever was responsible for the letter was very abreast to detail. The letter was typed on a typewriter, a personal bonus for Yaa as she was the proud owner of a vintage typewriter.

Yaa--

By the time you read this letter, you will already be back in sunny California. Also, if you are reading this letter, then you have instinctively followed directions. In the box is a special gift for tomorrow night; I hope you enjoy them. Secondly, upon your and Ms. Holloway’s arrival, there will be two attendants escorting you to your VIP section. The people at the door will know exactly who are. When you go to coat check, ask the attendant for directions to “The Pit”. Upon your question, you’ll be taken to through the VIP entrance. Your access code word is bubbly. Can’t wait to see you.

JG

The Pit? That sounds familiar. Hella familiar. Yaa moved to the box. The matte black wrapping paper was too pretty destroy, but fuck it. Her eyes shot open when she saw silver strappy heels in the box. “Oooh, this’ll go perfectly with my dress for tomorrow!”, she yelled out. The turn-up countdown had commenced.

NEW YEAR’S EVE

Tanisha and Yaa had a sleepover and went straight into preparation mode for the evening when they woke up that afternoon. After getting their hair and makeup done, the two returned to Yaa’s house to change. “Sis, can you zip me up?”, Yaa yelled as she sashayed to the other side of the hall. Tanisha responded back that she was coming but then stopped and began to whistle at her best friend’s floor-length dusty rose gown. The embellishments gave the gown a modern Gatsby remix. She wore the silver shoes Gatsby sent. Her locs were styled into a curly chignon and accessorized with a pearl headpiece.

“My goodness, Yaa!”, Tanisha complimented.

“Why, thank you, old sport.”, the two shared a laugh.

Mr. Gatsby sent a 1921 Rolls Royce to Yaa’s front door. Mr. Collins drove the two friends to the party’s location--an art gallery? Mr. Collins wished the girls a good night and happy new year as he pulled off. “ AN ART GALLERY?!”, the two squeaked in unison.

The art gallery was like any modern art gallery: polished light hardwood floors, white walls, semi-dimmed lighting and enough colored canvases to stir up many a conversation. There was a lively gathering taking place in the gallery, making the journey towards the back of the gallery less suspicious. Yaa and Tanisha made a beeline to the back stairwell. Gatsby warned Yaa that there’d be a bodyguard armed with a riddle-like question that only she would know the answer to before they could go down descending flight of stairs, the pair was stopped by a bodyguard in a tailored suit.

“Wait a minute, ladies. You can’t go down there.”, the bodyguard bluntly stated. Before Tanisha could tell the bodyguard about himself, Yaa covered her mouth. “Gatsby knows who we are.”, Yaa assured. The bodyguard shook his head. “Suuure...tell me, Doc, how you want that pit beef sandwich?” How dare he challenge my trivia. “Medium rare, extra horseradish, dummy.” The guard nodded and let them pass.

After knocking on the dark door four times, it opened to a dimmer foyer. The coat check attendant, a bubbly young woman, turned to them. “Whatcha need, sweetheart?”, she asked taking a sip from her martini glass.

“Can you show me how to get to the Pit?”, Yaa asked. The attendant nodded her head towards the other coats, “Right this way”. The two friends walked behind the counter, where the attendant pointed into the coats.

“Happy new year, ladies”, the attended said as she pulled some of the fur coats away from each other, revealing a door and opening it.

The other side of the door was the rabbit hole to a fucking circus. Beautiful Black bodies donned their Cotton Club’s best. The biggest names in entertainment, sports, and music made this chocolate El Dorado their haven. The blue and purple backlights provided just enough light to highlight the various shades of melanin against their outfit. The guests on the dancefloor in an almost ritualistic unison to the musical drug the DJs hooked them onto. The two attendants escorted Yaa and Tanisha past the many 8-person tables full of people hypothesizing on who they thought Gatsby was.

Further down to the right was the bar. The purple backlit shelves displayed the finest and rarest spirits anyone could legally obtain. Scattered around the club were about 15 cigarette girls and hostesses distributing drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The pair had finally arrived to their VIP section: a semi-circle couch with a hookah on the small table, all cloaked underneath a sheer white canopy.

Everyone in attendance left their inhibitions and year-long worries at coat check. With the year Yaa had had, she deserved first dibs for dancefloor access. A wild break-up, major career moves,two emotional breakdowns and surviving her first year of practicing law summarized Yaa’s 2014. There was no way in hell she would go into 2015 and her 25th year of life stressed. Her longing to go on the dancefloor was finally satisfied when the DJ began playing The 2 Live Crew’s “Hoochie Mama”. The two friends gave each other the all-knowing, pre-ratchetry look before running out and strolling to one of their shared ratchet hymns. Yaa strolled her worries off; her smile widened the happier she got.

At the song’s end, the two laughed their way back to their section.

“Tonight has been too surreal and it’s just...10:19.”, Tanisha commented.

“It’s just 10:19?!”, Yaa whipped her phone out to confirm the time. It was now 10:20. But, there was also a message sent from Winston Duke about 45 minutes ago: “I wanna go into this New Year on a clean slate. Let’s talk over lunch. 1:30? Shoot me a suggestion or three.”

Before Yaa could internalize her ex’s text, she felt a physical presence looming over her. She was spooked by a medium-built, average height,brown-skinned brother with a fade. His black eyes were striking, yet welcoming. They reflected blue from the club lights.

“Dr. Abdullah?”, he inquired loud enough to be heard over the blaring music.

“Speaking?”, she answered back.

“Mr. Gatsby would like to see you now.” Yaa’s stomach nosedived into her back and her palms began to sweat.

“O-ok.”, she stood and began walking with the man.

Yaa was escorted through a door that led into a dark hallway. The hallway was dark except for the light that passed through the four frosted glass doors on either side of the hallway. At the very end of the hallway was a solid wood door. Yaa was let in by the man and was left alone in the modest office.

“Please, have a seat.”, a raspy yet familiar voice suggested. He continued his cell phone conversation. The back of the chair was towards Yaa.

“Yeah...right. Uh huh? Tell Cross I’m not taking an-y-thing less than 140. Oh, of cour—right. Well, my guest has finally arrived. Alright, give Erin my love. Yeah, happy new year to you and yours as well. Buh-bye.” He hung up the phone. “Forgive me and my inconsideration for your presence, Dr. Abdullah. People are really tryna conduct business with folks when there’s maybe two hours left in 2014. Damn, shame.”, he said reaching for the chilled bottle of Dom Perignon. Upon hearing his voice, Yaa nearly doubled over from shock; all the clues were coming together. Pit beef sandwiches? The Pit? No wonder everything sounded so familiar. It was Baltimore.

The gentleman finally stood up from out of his chair and sat on the desk, placing the glasses next to him and winking at Yaa. Suave ass negro. “I’m certain you’re surprised to see me.”

Her shoulders bounced as she chuckled to herself. “That, I am, Mr. Gatsby. Ooh, I’m killing Tanisha when I see her.”

The Tag List is the Bee’s Knees!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[sprinkleofdiaz]

For The Love Of Dogs - Bucky x Reader

Prompt: I wasn't looking for anything serious. 

Summary: Bucky did not expect to be looking after a dog let alone catching feelings for the vet. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Tags/Warnings: Dogs! , Feelings, Fluff. 

Word Count: 3, 297

A/N: This is my entry for the lovely  @just-some-drabbles 4K follower challenge! Congrats you deserve every single one you're amazing! Sorry I took so long with it! Bucky and dogs are the true loves of my life. 

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the two men standing in front of him. He wasn't sure who he wanted to kill more.

Sam had the audacity to stand there smirking at Steve who was sitting on Bucky’s couch, giggles erupting from his mouth as a large labrador clambered on him, licking his face, tail wagging excitedly.

“I am not looking after a dog,” Bucky snapped.

“It's only for a week,” Sam replied, matter-of-factly.

“What the hell am I even supposed to do with it?”

“Feed it. Play with it. Clean it. Look after it.” Sam had the audacity to stand there smirking. Bucky rolled his eyes before turning his focus to Steve sat on Bucky’s couch, giggles erupting from his mouth as a large labrador clambered on him, licking his face, tail wagging excitedly.

Admittedly, Bucky found the dog cute but it didn't help ease any uncertain feels he had over the set-up. Sam and Steve claimed it could be good for him and could help with his anxiety and ongoing recovery. Although it had been two years since returning from the army, Bucky spent a large portion of the time in rehabilitation after having his arm amputated. He was recovering from his depression and managing his anxiety and now, he had his own apartment in Brooklyn, a stable job at the local bookstore and was in a place where he was good.

His nightmares however still persisted and there were still some “bad days” much to the concern of his friends. With that, came many interventions many of which Bucky disliked much like the one he currently faced. Sam and Steve claimed that having a dog will keep him busy as well as it being statistically proven that keeping a pet can boost a person’s mood.

“What am I gonna do when I go to work?” Bucky argued.

“Your next shift’s next weekend, I’ll watch him.” Steve said as he scratched the dog's ears.

“Guys, I really don't know about this. I don't even know his name!” Bucky pleaded helplessly. It was sinking in that this was actually real, he was only just managing to look after himself. Steve laughed.

“It's Cream, Buck. I'm sure you’ll remember it.”

“Cream? How original.” He muttered as he noted the dog’s cream coloured fur which earned him a glare from Steve. “Fine, I’ll look after him.” He sighed, as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Who knows, maybe you can adopt more pets, couple of more dogs, a few cats maybe some snakes. James Barnes Brooklyn’s Animal Whisperer.” Sam teased. Bucky glared at him.

“We should get going but all his stuff is here. He’s got toys, a dog bed, a leash, food and I’ve written down the number and address of the vet if you have any problems.” Steve said standing up and gesturing to where he placed the various dog items. He gave Bucky a small squeeze on his shoulder before leaving his apartment with Sam.

Bucky sighed and looked down at the dog who was sniffing at his feet.

After making himself dinner that evening, Bucky poured the packet of dog food into the plastic dog bowl before grabbing his food and making his way to the living room.  He settled down on the sofa and switching the TV to a channel that was showing reruns of Friends. He felt a dip on the sofa next to him and turned to see Cream laying down, head on her paws and her eyes trained solely on his food.

“No. No way. Down.” Bucky ordered. Cream slowly jumped of the sofa and perched herself directly in front of him. “Seriously? Go. Now.”

This time Cream ignored him and stared straight at his food. Bucky groaned.

“No. I’ve made you food. Go.” Cream turned her head as he pointed in the direction of the kitchen but she returned her focus to Bucky’s food. Bucky frowned at her. He didn’t know what Steve and Sam were thinking. But she was a damn cute dog. Sighing, he went against his inhibitions and plucked a piece of chicken of his plate. Cream perked up and ate it right from his palm. Admittedly, Bucky found it endearing. He stroke her head before handing her another piece.

“Okay, now will you eat your own food? Good boy.” He said as he watched Cream walk to the kitchen. He leant his back against his sofa cushions. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a dog.”

Cream soon came plodding back in and lay down at Bucky’s feet. Bucky returned to his dinner and the TV.

When Bucky next checked the time he saw that an hour went by and Cream was still by his feet but he was being quiet. One part of Bucky’s brain told him that Cream was fine and probably tired by the other part of his brain thought back to the chicken he gave him and rung a few alarm bells.

“You okay, buddy?” He said softly to Cream. Cream looked up at him slowly before placing his head back on his paws. “You wanna play? Go fetch that ball.”

Cream looked to where the ball lay and looked as though he was going to get up  but didn’t. Now, Bucky began to worry.

He reached over to where his laptop sat on the  coffee table and pulled up google. He felt ridiculous but he wasn't exactly sure if dogs could even eat chicken. Plus how could he tell Sam and Steve that he poisoned the dog within the first couple of hours of having him?

Google proved to be an ineffective reassurance.

Bucky remembered the address and number of the Vet he had written down. A vet’s opinion is much more reliable than yahoo answers. 

For the first time in a long time it was calm in the veterinary practise. You were grateful as it was easier to concentrate on treating the pets and calming down worried owners. It was an emergency practise which meant you dealt with overly stressed people on a nightly basis.

Your shift was nearing its end and you began to pack away the equipment. There's as a small part of you, thankful you worked late that night as you would feel less guilty about staying in with a movie as opposed to going out and socialising like your friends have been trying to get you to do for a long time.

Your office was situated next to the receptions area and you hear the sounds of a distressed pet owner. It wasn't unusual, of course, but you had a habit of caring too much and wouldn't mind squeezing one last person in even if it did run overtime.

You made your way out and saw the receptionist trying to reassure the man who stood in front of the desk, holding a Labrador in his arms.

“Sir, I will see that you get seento  as soon as possible. Take a few breaths and take a seat.”  The receptionist tried to reassure. The man’s frown deepened and he looked as though he were about to say something until you interjected.

“It's okay, I’ll be happy to see you.” You said. Relief flooded the man’s face and he began walking towards you.

“But isn't the end of you shift?” The receptionist asked raising an eyebrow.

“It's fine. Come right through sir.” You waved off the receptionist before smiling to the man and walking into the room. “I'm Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N. What’s this little guy’s name? Though he's not so little and you must be pretty strong to carry him.” You said as the man placed his Labrador the examination table.

“Cream,”

“And what seems to be the problem with Cream?” You asked as you rubbed Cream behind his ears.

“Uh, well, it's a little embarrassing actually,” he began scratching the back of his neck. You had to admit he was kind of cute but you quickly squashed down the thoughts deeming it unprofessional. “The short answer: I fed him some of my chicken I had for dinner and now he seems...I don't know unusually unresponsive. He's normally bouncing around the place. I'm kinda freaking out, doc.  Have I poisoned him?”

“Well, I haven't known chicken to be particularly dangerous. But I'll give him a quick check over. Do you when he last saw a vet?”

“He's not my dog. I got him today, I'm only supposed to be watching him for a friend for two weeks so details are kinda details. Is that a problem?”

“It shouldn't be.” You said as you began checking over the dog, occasionally cooing to him. “Well, he seems perfectly healthy. No problems as far as I can tell. You must be a pretty good owner if your friend trusted you with him.”

“I wouldn't say that. I haven't even had him for a day and already I'm at the vets.”

“Well, us vets. We’re not bad company.” You winked. He smiled and seemed to relax with your friendly banter.

“Well he seems to be fine. So no worries there. It's likely he's just tired himself out but maybe lay off any food that isn't certified dog food.” You said, stroking Cream.

“Thanks doc. Sorry for wasting your time.” He said, seeming a lot more relaxed.

“It's no problem. Better to be safe than sorry. Take care...sorry, I didnt get your name?”

“Uh James or you can just call me Bucky.” He said.

“Well, take care Bucky. And make sure you take good care of Cream. “ you said as he picked Cream up and began making his way out of the room.

The first few days of dogsitting after the impromptu trip to vets went soothingly much to Bucky’s surprise though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't struggling a little. Cream still gave him puppy dog eyes whenever he ate and despite being sleepy the night of the vet trip he was now full of energy 24/7.

Bucky was out at a small park and he never knew a dog to be so into everything. Cream was one curious canine. Cream was busy running up and down fetching a tennis ball, Bucky was throwing when something else caught his attention resulting in him scurrying off. Bucky closed his eyes and groaned before following him.

“Cream, get back here.” He half shouted, knowing that the Labrador wouldn't listen. He found Cream to be sniffing a golden retriever. “I'm sorry.” Bucky began before noticing who the owner was.

“It's no problem. It seems like they really like each other.” You said, laughing a little. “It's nice to see you again, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled.

“And it seems like they're entertained. You wanna take a seat?” You said nodding to where a bench was behind the two of you. Bucky nodded and followed you. “So, any particular reason you're looking after your friend’s dog? If you don't mind me asking?”

“Not really except my friends are interfering.”

“Oh, I know a thing or two about interfering friends.” You laughed. “Have you lived in Brooklyn for long?”

“Pretty much all my life. Except the few years I served in the army.” Bucky said. He subconsciously found himself rubbing his prosthetic hand but suddenly feeling self-conscious once he became aware of it and saw you eyes falling to it. He quickly stopped and awkwardly put his hand in his pocket. Normally, he wouldn't hide it, he embraced it but for some reason, he couldnt place why he felt vulnerable. In addition, there was tingly sensation in his stomach as you smiled softly at him. There was something nice about being around you..

“It's okay.” You said softly. “You served in the army? That's pretty awesome. I wish I could say I did something as spectatcular.”

“Well it wasn't all great. And I don't know, I'd say being a Vet and saving animal’s lives is pretty spectacular.” He mused. You grinned back at him.

“I haven't lived in Brooklyn long at all. I moved here a few years ago.” You said.

“Why?”

“I needed change y’know. I wanted to be my own person not whoever my parents wanted me to be. I love them and they never explicitly gave me a career I had to choose like some other’s but it was pretty evident that looking after animals is not what they saw their child doing. It became somewhat stifling. At least now I've learned, rather learning to be a proper adult. And being  around animals is not a bad way to spend my time though it's tough sometimes.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I'm still learning how to be a proper adult.” Bucky said. You smiled. “How long have you had your dog?”

“I've had Carrot for about a year now.”

“You named your dog Carrot?”

“In my defence, I let a four year old name it!” You argued as the two of you laughed. As your Dogs came bounding over. “I guess I better get going. It was nice to talk to you Bucky. And good to see Cream in good shape.”

“It was nice to talk to you to, and you were right.”

“Huh?”

“Vets aren't bad company.”

It was your day off and had planned for a movie day. In order to make yourself feel better about watching questionable movies with Carrot you decided to head out for some snacks. All was fine until the heavens decided to unleash a downpour, subsequently drenching you. You had left your umbrella behind and not wanting to get anymore wet you decided to duck into the nearest store until it died down. The closet one just happened to be a small, bookstore. You weren't complaining.

The bell on the door chimed and you smiled as you were greeted with the warmth. You ran a hand through your hair, grimacing at the wetness. You walked over to one of the shelves and ran your finger along the spines. You were deep into browsing when a voice interrupted you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and saw Bucky behind you holding a box. At first he seemed shocked but that soon melted into a smile.

“Bucky! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I work here. You're...drenched.” His eyes scanned your sodden outfit.

“Ugh, I know. I only went out for snacks.” You said holding up your bag. “And I stupidly left my umbrella at home. So much for my movie day.”

“Movie day huh?”

“Yep, probably gonna rewatch Sleepless In Seattle for the hundredth time.” You replied.

“I've never seen it”

“You should. Best romance movie of all time, no exaggeration.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Bucky smiled. You looked outside and saw that the rain had calmed down.

“I should let you get back to work. You don't need to listen to me and my lonely movie marathons.” You joked.

“You're alone?”

“Does Carrot count?” You chuckled. “Bye Bucky.”

Wanda had called Bucky into the bookstore last minute asking him to cover her shift. Fortunately, Steve was around to watch Cream. He didn't have any plans besides buying groceries for his dinner that evening which he did once his shift was over.

It was dark and cold, winter truly settling in. As he walked home he realised the emergency vets was on his route home. Sure enough there you were walking out of there. You seemed to be walking cautiously, continuously scanning around you. You looked behind you and stopped once you saw bucky.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.” You said grinning at him.

“Nah, just buying dinner.” He replied holding up his bags.

“This time you're the one buying food. “ you said as Bucky reached you and fell into step with you as the two of you made your way down the street.

“Are you walking home?”

“I was gonna, my car’s out of gas but I'm kinda spooked from the dark. I think I'm gonna call a cab.”

“That's probably a good idea.” Bucky said. He noted to offer to walk you home but the two of you had only met a few times and he didn't want to come across as creepy or stalkerish. “I'll wait with you until your cab comes if you'd like?”

“I would like that.” You smiled. The two of you walked a little further before you stopped and took out your phone to call a cab. After calling Bucky and you fell into a comfortable conversation. Bucky's butterflies had returned.

Eventually a cab pulled up on the kern.

“Guess this is my ride.” You said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I've got nothing planned. Why?”

“Well, I was maybe thinking you'd like to get a coffee tomorrow? You could bring Cream and I'd bring Carrot. A dog date?”

“I'd like that.” Bucky said smiling at you.

“I should probably give you my number and text you the details. I know this great café.” You said walking over to him. Bucky got out his phone and handed it to you. You began tapping your number in, hurrying when the cab driver honked his horn. “See you tomorrow.”

The café was quaint and you were so glad they allowed dogs on the premises - as long as they were behaved. As Carrot sat at your feet you found yourself continuously stroking her and was grateful as you were a bundle of nerves. You wished it wasn't so nerve wracking meeting with a cute, kind and funny guy but that was exactly why. You felt a little insane as you had only known Bucky for a short amount of time but you could feel something between you two. Something was definitely there. Everyone was telling you take chances and get out there and this was doing that. Right?

You didn't have time to freak out further as you felt someone behind you. You turned around and saw the man of the hour with Cream.

“Hey,” you greeted. “I thought I'd wait for you to order.”

“I'll go up and get it for you with my order. What do you want?” He asked winding Cream’s lead around the chair leg.

“Just a hot chocolate for me.” You said. He smiled and nodded before walking up to order.

He soon came back carrying a delicious looking hot chocolate topped with cream and Coffee for himself. You wrapped your hands around the mug and for the first time in your life you had no idea what to say.

“This café’s nice. I've never been here before.” Bucky said as he took a sip from his coffee.

“I've been here a few times. The hot chocolate is the best.” You said. You looked at your cup. You knew what you wanted to really say. “Hey Bucky. I-uh-I have something I'd like to say.”

“What's up?” He said a small twinge of concern on his face.

“I wasn’t looking for anything serious.” You blurted out. Understandably Bucky looked confused. “Sorry, let me start again. I know we haven't known each other for a long time but i think I've really grown to like you and I wanna get to know you better. God, I probably sound crazy.” You took a sip from you cup in the hopes it would ease your nerves.

Bucky didn't say anything except look down towards his cup. Oh god you thought.

“I wasn't looking for anything serious either,” Bucky said quietly. “I think I like you too Y/N.”

You let out a laugh which confused Bucky but he began to smile.

“How about we try this dating thing?” You said. Bucky reached over and grabbed you hand.

“I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.”

Tags: @poealsobucky @lilasiannerd @thegenderqueerbatman

[kaikumin]

Peaches and Cream [jisoo fluff]

Requested by @ohpapiseo (even if she tried to fake being an anon). It might not be exactly what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

word count: 1480 pairings: jisoo x reader genre: pure fluff, there maybe a puppy and kitten involved.

Jisoo knew from the first date that you were a special and tender-hearted being. In fact, the boy had met you at the animal shelter you volunteered at, after he witnessed a dog getting hit by a car on his way to University. The driver left without even slowing down, and Jisoo couldn’t bring himself to walk past the scene. He wrapped the animal in his sweater, not caring that the cream colored material would be stained and tattered and rushed to the nearest place he could find, the Animal Hospital too far away for him to walk.

He was panting and exhausted by the time he rushed through the doors, and all of the volunteers in the facility sprung into action, the on-scene Vet Tech coming forward to take the dog away from him. You stood behind the counter, genuinely worried for the dog as Jisoo stood there, his shirt covered in red. With a blink, you shook your head and composed yourself, gesturing for the male to come forward so you could take down the information.

“It’s not mine, I just saw it get hit and didn’t know where else to bring it.” He stumbled to say, far too anxious and on edge to calm down. The poor boy was near tears and it was a surprise to him when you reached forward and placed a gentle hand on his bicep, a sad smile on your lips.

“Thank you for doing this. Most people would’ve ignored it and walked away. You may have saved the puppy’s life.”

Your words eased him, and he was able to calm down after a while, waiting for the news of the dog’s status. It was one of the biggest reliefs he had ever felt when the Veterinarian come out to say she was stable, only suffering a minor fracture that would heal almost perfectly with proper attention. After scanning the dog for a microchip, they determined her to be a stray, and despite Jisoo struggling to get by with his own expenses, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her at the Shelter.

When they handed her to him in a kennel, wrapped in blankets and out cold from whatever drugs they had used to sedate her, he turned to you with a pleading look.

“I’ve never had a dog before. What do I even name her?”

Your smile was warm as you walked around the front desk and knelt down in front of the kennel, your hand reaching through the bars of the door to rub along her paw. She twitched unconsciously from under your touch, and you tilted your head as you thought.

“She’s a pretty color, kind of like a peach. You should name her that.”

“Peach?” He questioned, his eyes shifting from you to the small dog. Peach did seem like a rather cute name. Your nod of approval was enough for him to fully agree and he gave a nervous smile at the thought of suddenly being a pet owner.

You waved as he began to walk out of the Shelter, a few days supply of dog food and treats packed away neatly for him to start off with. He paused when he heard you call after him, jogging outside in the autumn air to catch up.

“Bring Peach by any time you want a break, or help, even just to say Hi.”

He wasn’t too sure if the pink tint to your cheeks was from the chilly air or if you were blushing, but he decided he wouldn’t be too upset if he ever had to see you again, and he nodded in return. “It’s a date.”

--

Your love for animals was something Jisoo had discovered early on. You were going to school to be a Veterinarian, your days outside of University spent volunteering at the animal shelter or taking care of your friends pets while they went on vacation.

Yet, somehow, you had never gotten a pet of your own.

Jisoo had questioned it many times, especially after seeing you grow so attached to Peach over the course of the two years he had come to know you. Even more so when the two of you began dating and you spent practically every night at his apartment, to the point where people questioned if you lived together.

But, you had always brushed it off with a simple “I’m just not ready for a pet of my own.”

“You take care of them so well, though. How could you, of all people, not be ready?” He frowned, stroking Peach behind her ear as you lay on his sofa with the  orange-beige colored dog on your lap.

You chuckled and shook your head. “I don't really know, Jisoo. I guess I just don’t want to take on the responsibility of one animal when there’s so many out there that need my help.”

“Then you can just buy a farm.” He nudged your arm, earning a giggle from you.

“Maybe when I become the world’s number Vet and can afford to do that, sure. I’ll buy a farm.”

The conversation almost always ended like that, with you beating around the bush. Jisoo never pushed you into getting a pet though, even though he was certain having one would only make you happier.

The day, however, did eventually come.

Jisoo brought Peach to the Shelter to visit you, only to find you seating at your desk with a beautiful gray-tone white kitten walking back and forth over the surface as your fingers laced through its soft fur. Your eyes flickered up to Jisoo as he made his way to the desk, a fond gaze landing on his face. Peach let out a whine, gaining your attention as you shifted your eyes to her, finding her staring longingly at the kitten under your fingers.

You watched as the little furball hissed at the dog, but still knelt down curious to observe it. Peach’s nose wiggled as she sniffed the kitten before excitedly barking and licking it. The cat hissed again and jumped back walking to the other side of the desk and, if you and Jisoo didn’t know any better, glared at Peach dangerously.

The dog, however, seemed amused by the interaction and sat there wagging her tail as she watched the kitten clean it’s face where Peach’s drool had managed to clump its fur.

“She just came in today. They were going to go put her in the cat room, but she managed to bolt at the last second and decided she was quite fond of my desk.” You explained, reaching out to brush the kitten gently. She purred and nuzzled against your hand, and Jisoo’s chest warmed at the sight.

He glanced down at Peach still watching the kitten happily, but patiently waiting for her to make the first move. “I think Peach would enjoy a new friend.” He stated, patted the dog on its head before giving you a teasing look. “But, I’m not really a cat person.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, your hands returning to busying yourself with the paperwork on your desk. “I suppose someone will come in and adopt her soon enough.”

The kitten, seeming to understand your words mewed and pranced over your desk until its face nudged your chin rather forcefully until she was able to jump down into your lap.

“I think she wants you to adopt her, y/n.”

You frowned as you watched the kitten curl into a ball on your lap, and unknowingly you willed yourself to grow attached a little more to the precious creature. “You said you’re not a cat person.” You mumbled quietly, trying to find some excuse to keep telling yourself getting a pet wasn’t a good idea.

But in all actuality, the desire for one had long been in you, and you only held off on the thought that it wouldn’t feel right adopting one without adopting them all.

“But, I can live with something as cute as that if it’s what you wanted.” He smiled, trying hard himself to convince you.

The kitten purred and it’s tiny paw began to knead at your thigh gently and you found yourself sighing in defeat.

“What will we name her?”

Jisoo tilted his head, much like he remembered you doing when he first got Peach and made his way over to the other side of the desk, kneeling down beside you so he could run his fingers over the kitten. “Cream.” He chuckled, Peach nudging his leg for her own attention.

“You want our pets to be named Peach and Cream?” You scoffed, shaking your head. Jisoo simply nodded, finding his choice to be rather clever. But, despite the cheesiness, you nodded in agreement, accepting the name and allowing yourself to feel the excitement of getting your very own pet for the first time.

[lonelypond]

Casual Lunacy, Chapter 6

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2K words Chapter 6/?

Summary: Nico recovers with a little help from Princess, Maki gets an unexpected lecture from Nico and nosy Nozomi finally meets a redhead and finds a way to intrude.

OWNING UP (NOT QUITE)

Nico was crying. And shaking. And that person who’d been touching Nico -- sandalwood, bergamot, copper, too calm -- continued to hover. If Maki snarled in her direction, would it upset Nico? Maki settled for glaring over Nico’s head, eyes full werewolf green, making sure not to disturb Nico, sternly willing sandalwood, bergamot, copper and too calm to go away. The woman glanced down at Nico, then raised her hands in surrender at Maki and left. Maki buried her snout in Nico’s hair, the slightest hint of lavender mixing into her vivid awareness of Nico. Nico let go of Maki suddenly, Maki nearly whimpering at the loss of contact. Nico’s voice was so close to her ear, so gentle, so caring, Maki’s every nerve and sense fluttery at the sound. Nico smelled...calmer, closer, happier?

“Nico could get used to Princess.” Nico stood, Maki watching as she brushed snow off herself. “But Nico can’t.” Nico tilted her head and frowned, Maki noticed Nico getting distressed again and bumped into Nico’s leg. “So what am I going to do with you?”

Maki barked, tail wagging. She could smell Nico’s amusement.  And Hanayo and Rin getting closer. Hanayo must have gone to get Rin, but convinced her to stay human. Rin could still track Maki in that form.

Maki sat. Nico crouched down next to her, voice soft, “It’s no good to explain things to you is it, Princess? Nico has rehearsal to get back to. There was a scary thing that happened, but Nico…” Nico glanced back over her shoulder at the theatre, “Nico thinks it’ll be ok.”

Maki huffed, poking her head under one of Nico’s hands, forcing Nico to rub her ears. This was easy, Nico could read her actions and Maki didn’t have to say anything.

“Princess!” Hanayo’s voice carried; she was worried and it made her braver, Maki knew. Rin just flew up, running at top speed and had to remember to stop and pull back before she sniffed Maki.

“You’re ok?” Rin asked, glancing from Nico to Maki.

“Nico had a minor scare, but then Princess showed up to help.” Nico had left her hand on Princess’s shoulder, Maki wasn’t sure if Nico even noticed.

“She seems very fond of you.” Hanayo ventured, back to shy. Rin sniggered. Maki remained very still, not really paying attention to her friends, enjoying how Nico’s breathing seemed to be synching with hers as Nico’s hand sank deeper into her fur.

“I’m sure Maki will be glad she keeps running to you.” Hanayo stated.

“Really glad.” Rin kicked some snow in Maki’s direction, pointedly. Nico looked puzzled at the act. Maki silently yipped at Rin.

“Oh, so she is Maki’s.” Nico took her hand back and Maki drooped. “That’s nice. They seem suited to each other.” Maki shuffled closer to Nico, but Nico didn’t respond.

“Yeah…” Rin bounced in place, hands behind her back, huge grin on her face and about to continue when Hanayo grabbed her arm, yanking her back so fast Rin yelped.

“Anyway, take good care of her.” Nico turned and stepped away, waving in Maki’s direction, “I have to get back to rehearsal.” And suddenly remembering how cold she was, Nico sprinted for the building.

Maki watched her go, pensive, wondering why Nico suddenly smelled so sad. This was hard, Maki not being able to read Nico's thoughts, not being able to say anything. But she could do something. Maki bounded after Nico, pushing the other woman front first into the snow by the side of the path. Nico rolled over, blowing snow out of her reddened face, Maki standing over her, so close, so warm, worried lavender green eyes intently roving over Nico’s expression. Nico was taken aback for a moment, then snorted.

“Oh, Nico forgot to tell Princess she was pretty.” Nico curled up and quickly bopped a kiss on Maki’s nose. Maki reared back, with a whine. Nico laughed as she stood, ‘Thanks for coming to my rescue. Again.’ And then with a wink and a shiver, Nico ran into the building.

Maki let out a lonely whine as Nico disappeared. She felt Rin next to her.

“Better get you home.” Rin paused for emphasis and then made her voice a mocking falsetto, “Nico’s Princess.”

Maki bit Rin on the forearm. It helped.

Maki pulled her sweater over her head, glowering. Rin was sulking on the top bunk, face mostly behind a pillow, light green eyes burning. Hanayo sat at the desk, laptop closed, biting her lip, unsure of what to say to break the tension.

Maki strode to the door, Rin snarling a good riddance.

“W..where are you going?” Hanayo squeaked out.

Maki stopped, “To find out what scared Nico.”

“Maybe it was Maki, being mean.” Rin muttered.

Hanayo scrunched up her lips, her eyes begging Maki not to upset Rin further. Maki looked from one friend to the other, rubbed her hand over her bicep and sighed, “I didn’t mean to bite you that hard, Rin. I’m sorry.”

Rin sniffled.

“You can come to my house tomorrow and we’ll play in the trees, ok?” Maki climbed two steps up the ladder, reaching out a hand to Rin, who nodded and bumped it with her head.

“Treehouse slumber party?” Rin grinned, fangs prominent.

Maki rolled her eyes, “Sure.”

“Invite N…” Rin rolled over, clasping the pillow to her stomach, ready to tease her friend

“Don’t.” Maki jumped down to the floor, “You are not allowed to mention her.”

“Kayochin!” Rin whined.

Hanayo shrugged, glad they were talking again, “Maki doesn’t want to be teased, Rin.”

Rin sat up, Maki knew she wasn’t going to get out the door before the cascade started but she tried, “No, but Maki wants to be Princess so Nico can pet her, so Nico can….”

Maki slammed the door, blocking Rin's taunts. There were more important things to think about. Could she actually crash a rehearsal? And what would she say to Nico?

Eli had just stopped by rehearsal to say hello and chat with Nozomi about their shared class. After the blackout, she went back to her dorm. Nozomi stayed, wanting to ask Nico what she thought. Nico and Professor Asuka were discussing something on stage, Nico behind Mina Murray’s desk, when there was a commotion at the entrance to the theatre. Nozomi spotted a confused, very cute redhead with a Dunkin Donuts bag and the largest coffee cup possible. When the mystery redhead saw Nico onstage, her face brightened and her tension eased. Nozomi grinned. Here was a chance for both mischief and the answering of a few questions.

Nozomi raised a hand and waved at the stage, her voice loud enough to ring through the theatre, “Hey, Nico-chi, Princess is here.”

The redhead’s head whipped around, eyes burning dangerously, like a feral creature’s in a dark forest, lips turning up into a…

Snarl, was Nozomi’s first thought as the redhead challenged her glance, but then Nico’s voice broke into the oddness and the redhead turned with a sweet smile, “That’s just Maki, Nozomi. Hi Maki! Nico will be done in a few minutes.”

The redhead nodded and chose a seat, ignoring Nozomi. Does that mean there was actually a dog? Nozomi really had to bug Nico about that one.

Maki tried to calm her panicky heart. Nico’s friend didn’t know anything, she’d obviously just heard Nico talking about Princess. So that was ok. And of course people would notice a stranger walking into their space. And red was an uncommon hair color. So that was all ok. No need to be panicky. But her heart kept racing as she kept noticing Nico glancing in her direction. What wasn’t ok was Nico saying ‘oh, that’s just Maki.”

Would Nico have preferred Princess to show up? Would Princess have made her feel safer?  Should she have followed Nico into the building? Did Nico like Princess better?  Maki fought the sudden urge to growl at herself. Which, like so much since she’d started running into Nico seemed both impossible and unavoidable, all at exactly the same time.

Maki really wanted to take a calming sip of coffee but she’d fixed it for Nico, half coffee, half creamer and even a sip of the sweetness would make her gag. She should have picked up a cup for herself. Maybe if Nico wasn’t headed to work, Maki could convince her to head back to Norris. Maki looked down at the cup. Maybe just a sip. Nope. So sweet.

“Isn’t that for Nico?” a hand plucked away the cup and drank. “Just right. Nico is impressed.” Maki looked into merry ruby eyes, “Is that a donut for Nico too?”

“The pinkest they had.” Maki handed over the bag.  

“Maki pays attention. Nico is impressed.” Nico collapsed into the seat next to Maki. Maki noticed the cut on her cheek had scabbed over, but no one had bandaged it. She raised a finger to it.

“You should clean that.”

Nico shrugged, “Nico will wash it off when she has a minute. Did Hanayo and Rin tell you Princess found me again?”

Maki nodded, still not comfortable lying to Nico. “I’m sorry if Princess bothers you.”

Nico shook her head, “No, Princess doesn’t bother Nico.” Nico sat up in her seat, leaning at Maki, very serious, “You need to take better care of her. Nico would be very upset if she got hurt.”

“I...I do…” Maki insisted.

“Give Nico your number.” Nico handed Maki her phone, Maki just stared.

Nico explained slowly, rolling her eyes, “So Nico can call you if she finds Princess.”

“Oh.” Maki typed her numbers into Nico’s phone and watched Nico add her contact info as Princess, “That’s Maki Nishikino. N-i-s-h…”

Nico bit into the donut, waving her free hand dismissively in Maki's direction, “Princess is shorter than coffee, black, student, fancy house, serious sweater, IRRESPONSIBLE dog owner.”

Maki gritted her teeth, “I am not irresponsible.”

“My 8 year old brother keeps better track of his stuffed animals.”

“You have a brother?”

“And two sisters. And I know where they are right now.” Nico sounded angry, “Do you know where Princess is?”

“YES. I know.” Maki realized she was shouting. And curled down into her seat, sulking. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go.

“Good.” Nico nodded and began to drink her coffee. They both let the silence happen for a moment and just as Maki was about to speak, Nozomi interrupted.

“Nico-chi, introduce me to your ‘friend’.” Nozomi loomed over the back of the row, between the two of them, having waited until the most awkward moment possible on purpose as Nico knew from long experience.

“Maki, this is Nozomi. Nozomi this is Maki. Nozomi is a terrible gossip so don’t say anything important within a mile of her.” Nico shoved the other half of the donut into her mouth.

“Hi.” Maki scooted away from Nozomi.

“Did you hear about the big scare?” Nozomi asked.

Maki nodded, “I was just going to ask Nico how she go the cut.”

“Ooh, Nico, this one pays attention. Your standards are improving. You used to just care if they were pretty.”

“Nozomi, stop lying.” Nico snapped.

Maki realized she could usually smell when people were lying and nervous but Nozomi didn’t give off any of the usual tells. Just rain and sage and calm.

“A ghost tried to grab Nico.” Nozomi hugged Nico from behind, “We were all worried when the lights went out.”

“It wasn’t a ghost,” Nico fidgeted in Nozomi’s embrace, “Tsubasa was going to show me the fabric for the trance scene, it was back on the wall, and it reached out and grabbed me.”

“Tsubasa?” Nozomi prodded. Nico scowled at her.

“You know, that stagehand…” Nico looked warningly at her friend.

“Oh, the one you said was cute.” Nozomi grinned as Nico dropped her head into her hands. Maki might have laughed at the interplay between the two but she was too busy wondering if that had been the woman touching Nico’s cheek and smelling too calm. But she couldn’t ask that.

Maki stood, “Show me.”

Nico seemed doubtful, “What are you a detective?”

“Just curious.”

“Take the cute girl on a backstage tour, Nico-chi. I can tell you some of the good shadowy corners.” Nozomi released Nico, who jumped up, grabbed Maki’s arm and dragged her out to the aisle.

“Anything to get away from you,” Nico snarled over her shoulder, while Maki stumbled forward, into Nico’s back, her body jolted by the sudden contact, hairs raised. Too close, too nervous, can’t change.

Nico had stopped as Maki was concentrating on not wrapping her arms around Nico so her legs were going in two different directions, almost tripping the shorter woman. Nozomi sniggered, but Maki was too busy trying to get all of her suddenly jangling nerves under control to respond.

“Maki?” Nico sounded concerned.

Maki smiled at Nico, apologetic, eyes wide, but she could feel the blush coming, and quickly looked away, “Need caffeine.”

“Next time, remember to buy some for yourself, Ms. pouting puppy eyes detective." Nico strode toward the stage. "Nico’s schedule is full so let’s hurry.”

Nozomi watched them go, considering Nico’s new redheaded friend. She was glad the cards had been right about that...her more recent predictions had been lacking clarity. But Maki was definitely cute, definitely weird, and definitely into Nico based on the way she was trotting backstage after her, paying no attention to anyone else. Nozomi wondered if Nico realized how much of an effect she was having.

A/N Howdy! Here's the latest, a bit early as the drive to Taming Of The Shrew tech begins...my current state: trying to avoid panic and too many to do listsHope you are enjoying fun things and seasonal weather. Take care!  Comments, reblogs with tags, etc are welcome. I appreciate the feedback. And it usually makes me smile, always a plus.