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ddaeng-angmoh · 2 years ago

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Ommmmg this latest chapter was amaazing!!! I'm so excited to see how this goes!! Things are really starting to rev up and I see Jungkookie 👀👀👀 Ik he knows things, I see that notebook and raise up my knowledge of spiderwick chronicles 🤧🤧

Top encouragement for anyone looking for a good hybrid fic with the secondary focus not on the hybrid part. The more intricate the better, right?? It reads so mature, and I am loving the energy of the story so far.

Also team libras, we are the best (Leo's don't know true swag 🤷‍♀️💅)

Trouvaille - Chapter Three

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th and 20th of each month

Hi lovelies, it's Dana! Thank you all so much for all of the lovely feedback on the first two chapters of Trouvaille! I always enjoy answering questions, hearing reader theories, and even gushing over the Trouvaille hybrids together. In Chapter Three, we'll finally meet the mysterious wolf hybrid Namjoon, and some of the paranormal aspects of the plot will be introduced as well. There's a bit of angst in this update, a fair amount of awkward interactions between characters, but a healthy amount of soft and domestic moments as well. As always, if you would like to be added to the taglist or chat with me at all, my inbox is open and I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading and please enjoy the latest update!

Previous Chapter

Pulling into town, the rain had slowed into a light mist, shrouding the homes on Y/N’s street in a blue-gray fog. The orange headlights from her car cut through the haze, guiding her way to the driveway at the side of the house, lamplight from within the first floor illuminating the gloom of the morning storm outside. The Beach Boys CD had looped by now, the sunny melodies doing little to brighten Y/N’s stress-induced jaw clenching.

With her mother’s last minute visit sprung upon her, Y/N had little to no time to prepare herself for the situation, let alone the six hybrids she had barely just met. She spent much of the ride back grinding her teeth and muttering under her breath, Taehyung periodically rolling the window up and down while she pressed pedal to the metal to beat her mother to the house. The squeaking noise of the window glass set her on edge, trying not to look at Taehyung cross-eyed, praying to the sky that her parents wouldn’t embarrass her within an inch of her life.

The hybrids had lapsed into pensive silence after her mentioning of the surprise visit, and she didn’t dare glance through the rearview to get a look at Jeongguk’s likely disgusted expression. Y/N hadn’t even noticed the hushed whispering in the backseat, too bewildered to hear much else but the curse-loop bouncing around in her own skull.

Leave it to her mother to completely disregard Y/N’s insistence she would come around later in the week to introduce the hybrids to her, in a controlled environment with more time to warn the hybrids of her mother’s quirks. She mostly blamed herself, with the fact that her kitchen was bare of food and calling her parents right away to tell them about the adoptions– she kicked herself for not holding out a bit longer, perhaps waiting for when she got Namjoon home– but it was all too late now. There was no convincing her mother to stay away, especially not without worrying her, or even worse, offending her.

Turning the car off, Y/N twitchily attempted to brighten up, not wanting to taint the first impression Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jeongguk were getting of their newfound home. Clearing her throat, she shakily turned to the backseat, a sheepish smile stretching across her face.

“We’re here,” she ignored Hoseok’s amused expression as he read the discomfort in her air, Yoongi squinting out the window past him to look at the house through the mist. Jeongguk had his bag of items from the drugstore tucked under his armpit, an unlit cigarette already poised between his lips. “Let’s head in and get out of this fog.”

Grabbing the box of donuts from the console and fishing around in her pocket for the house keys, Y/N yanked her car door open, not even bothering to pull up her hood to protect her clammy strands of hair. Jeongguk was right behind her, the flicking of his lighter clicking in her ear, a puff of smoke tantalizingly curling around her. She’d definitely have to have one of those later, when she could grab a moment to be by herself.

Dodging puddles in the gaping potholes of her crumbling driveway, she popped the trunk, hauling out the trash bag of the hybrid’s belongings. While it was half-full, it was exceptionally heavy– a burden that was immediately lifted by Taehyung’s nimble fingers hefting it over his shoulder along with his bags from the drugstore. Before she could protest, he was following Hoseok to the door to the lit-up kitchen, leaving her to fall into stride with Yoongi.

“Alright, I get it now. This place does look totally haunted,” Yoongi murmured to her out of the corner of his mouth, fanning away smoke from Jeongguk in front of them. “Marlboros. If you’re gonna smoke, at least have a menthol,” he whispered, low enough for Jeongguk to miss but perfectly audible to Y/N beside the leopard hybrid. Laughing weakly, Y/N had a warm feeling in her stomach at Yoongi’s attempts to make her smile.

The hybrids made a half-circle around her as she unlocked the door, Jeongguk’s tattooed hand stamping out his cigarette but in the ashtray Y/N had used nights before. She peered into the glass slider while she slid it open, but Seokjin and Jimin were not lingering in the kitchen.

Inside, it was warm and the air had a faint buttery smell of toast, yet did little to balm Y/N’s anxiety surrounding her parents impending arrival. She could hear the sound of the TV going in the parlor as she and the hybrids filed in behind her, placing the donuts on the island with a thump. It appeared that someone had cleaned up the kitchen meticulously after their breakfast, even the stainless steel of the fridge had been wiped to a polish.

“Whoa, this kitchen is awesome,” Yoongi breathed, immediately circling the island to run his hand along the stovetop with a grin on his face.

“Yoongi, were you a line cook at that bar you worked at too?” Hoseok remarked teasingly as Yoongi admired the pots hanging from the rack over the island.

“Yeah, actually. I worked just about every position at one point or another, Foxy,” Yoongi answered, folding his arms over his chest.

Taehyung had set the garbage bag on the breakfast nook, slowly placing items from it on the table one by one. Jeongguk was impatiently standing behind him, tapping a foot on the tiled floor, snatching a little leather notebook from Taehyung’s hand as soon as he pulled it from the bag. Taehyung simply returned to retrieving items from the bag, tucking a weathered black jean jacket under his armpit as he went.

“I can show them around, if you need some time to get ready for your parents,” Hoseok said from behind Y/N at the coffee pot, where she was filling a mug up to the brim. Hoseok had somehow become her saving grace the past two days when it came to helping out, and she almost wanted to hug him in relief as the words left his mouth.

“Thanks, Hoseok. I owe you,” Y/N squeezed his wrist, watching dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Oh! Did everyone come back today?” Jimin’s voice came from the entry of the kitchen, eyes wide as he scanned the room full of people. Brushing past Hoseok to greet the coyote hybrid, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder where Seokjin was, his absence peculiarly profound to her.

“Good morning, Jimin!” Y/N said brightly, his smile as he saw her step from behind Hoseok equally as radiant as her voice. “Everyone, apart from Namjoon.”

Jimin hummed, eyeing Hoseok who had stalked off to the mysterious garbage bag on the breakfast bar. Y/N motioned for Jimin to come closer, which he did gracefully in his sock-clad feet, bending low to hear her.

“My parents are coming today. My mother gave me a call and totally surprised me with it, sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” Y/N whispered in his ear while trying to hear what Yoongi was saying to Jeongguk several feet away. Jimin made a noise of surprise, Y/N pushing the opened box of donuts towards him, gesturing for him to take one.

“Don’t apologize, Miss Y/N. I’m sure they’re lovely people,” Jimin assured her, his penchant for titles slipping into his speech. Heat rising up her neck, she was thankful his sight was trained on the donuts as she took a hearty swig of the coffee in her mug, which probably did nothing but add to her jitteriness.

“How’s Seokjin?” Y/N changed the subject, hoping that the jaguar hybrid wasn’t nursing a wine hangover. Jimin placed a powdered sugar donut on a paper towel, casting a look over his shoulder towards the foyer.

“He’s upstairs. He moved up to that pink bedroom this morning, reading a book or something,” Jimin responded, licking a bit of sugar off of his thumb. Y/N began to sweat, forgetting that she had told Seokjin to pick out a bedroom in the first place, and began to worry about cleaning up his previous room if one of the other hybrids decided to claim it that afternoon. While she had left her high stress level job days ago, Y/N had a whole new set of situations that seemed to crop up quickly.

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupted, nodding at the coyote hybrid as he approached the island. Yoongi had a bomber jacket slung over his shoulder, sliding a canvas knapsack across the granite countertop. “This yours?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open, grasping the bag with relief, checking the contents of the bag frantically. Yoongi swiped a chocolate donut from the open box, munching on it thoughtfully as Jimin pulled a dented brown Stetson hat from the bag with a frown. Standing on her tiptoes to peek at the others, she noticed Hoseok with a stack of athletic wear he was most likely wearing prior to his arrival at the shelter, and Taehyung crumpling up the empty garbage bag.

“This was Jin’s, I’ll take it to him when we find him,” Hoseok joined her, Jimin, and Yoongi at the island, holding up a ratty drawstring bag in one of his hands. Taehyung had snuck his way next to Y/N silently, opening random cabinets with the garbage bag in his fist. Finding the drawer that hid the trash, he tossed the bag in with a grimace, blowing his bangs out of his face with a gust of air.

“Why don’t you guys get settled before my parents get here? Hoseok has offered to show you around, to pick out your bedrooms,” Y/N urged, still mournfully lamenting the fact that she hadn’t seen Seokjin yet that morning.

“Before you ask, Yoongi, we aren’t sharing a room, sorry,” Hoseok nudged Yoongi with his shoulder, the leopard hybrid’s mouth set in a grim line. Hoseok was already on his way out to the hall, Yoongi trudging after him with Jeongguk not far behind, leafing through his notebook with a detached expression.

“I’d sooner share a room with Satan,” Yoongi shot back under his breath, tossing the last piece of his donut in his mouth before disappearing from the room with the fox and elk hybrids.

Taehyung begrudgingly followed the other three, looking like he wanted to say something to Y/N as he watched her tuck away the leftover donuts for later. Jimin stayed behind, as Y/N predicted he would, finding his own mug in the cabinet to help himself to some more coffee.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jimin asked softly as Y/N brushed crumbs from the counter into the sink, raking a hand through her hair in distress.

“Oh, that’s okay, Jimin, thank you. I guess I should warn you… my mother is a little out there,” Y/N grit her teeth, avoiding Jimin’s eyes as she sipped her coffee. “She might hug you, or ask you if you want a tarot reading…”

“A… tarot reading?” Jimin’s voice was laced with confusion, slinging his knapsack around his trim shoulder. Nodding, Y/N made her way to the bags of toiletries Taehyung had left on the breakfast nook that were likely for Jimin, Seokjin, and Namjoon, which he had separated so each bag had one of each item. Smiling at Taehyung’s quiet consideration, she selected a bag for Jimin and offered it to him.

“Yeah, fortune telling. She’s a pagan witch, not so far off from that movie we watched last night,” Y/N joked, realizing the joke went right over his head as he stared at her with alarm. “These are for you, Taehyung helped me pick up some other things you might need,” she thrust the bag into his open palm, the astonishment slipping from his face as it settled back into a more neutral expression.

“Thank you. Hugging is fine. I’m alright with staying unaware of what the future holds, for now,” Jimin murmured, following Y/N to the foyer.

“I hear you. Not that she took that into account growing up, however,” Y/N sighed, pausing by the room Seokjin was in previously. He had made the bed. “I’m just going to freshen up a bit before they get here, so I’ll see you in a few?”

“Alright, Miss Y/N. Give a holler if you need anything,” Jimin grinned, Y/N returning the gesture before hurrying away so he wouldn’t see her blushing. She didn’t have the heart to tell Jimin to drop the titles again, and for some reason she found she actually liked it when he used them.

Like clockwork, as soon as Y/N began to detangle her rain-mussed hair in her bathroom, her phone buzzed with her mother’s “on the way” message. Cursing, Y/N hastily changed into some drier clothes, heart racing as she prayed that a disaster wouldn’t unfold. She hadn’t exactly been forthcoming on the phone with what kind of hybrids she had adopted– all men, almost all large predators. There was a chance her father would blow a gasket seeing that many men living with Y/N, or her mother totally embarrassing her by trying to set her up with one of them; like they were at a wedding and the hybrids were groomsmen.

Y/N had been single for most of her adult life; a few college hookups were as close as she got to a relationship. Always focused on studies, keeping up with her friends, and spending quality time with her family, she never really found the time to enter the dating scene. Especially as she landed her job after graduation, Y/N was busier than ever working at the animal hospital, with little thought spent on men and relationships. She knew that her mother and father talked behind her back about her lackluster dating life, and that her mother in particular wanted to see her in a loving relationship, but her mother trying to set up blind dates with one of her friend’s sons was more annoying than helpful. There was a real chance her mother would corner one of the hybrids and ask them what she thought of Y/N, or maybe even offer a compatibility reading, the thought mortifying and making Y/N twist her hair up into a bun a little too tightly.

While Y/N was a little less cosmic than her mother, she did hold the belief that there would be a “right person, right time” situation that magically manifested into her life; whether it be a college romance in her literature class, a new doctor sweeping in from across seas at her job, or a handsome stranger reaching for the same vinyl at the record store– but those instances never came to pass. Instead, Y/N found herself invested in work, house restoration, and antique hunting on her weekends with Roy or her father. Her hope had not diminished in finding the right man, but it had become something she had tucked away and forgotten about. With the adoptions of the hybrids, Y/N was certain her mother would get up to her old tricks again, and Y/N would have few defenses against them after all this time.

Above her head, Y/N heard scuffling footsteps, likely where the tour Hoseok was leading was at the moment. The room above her bedroom was one of the tower rooms, the gray and maroon one– the room that her older male cousin always stayed in when her grandparents lived in the house. It had a little balcony attached to it, where one or two people could stand on and look out over the backyard, but had no space for a chair or much else. Smoothing the fabric of her fresh tee shirt, Y/N made her way back to the staircase at the front of the house, stowing away the materials she had used on Friday night to strip it in the broom closet. She was a little behind schedule with the restoration work, but she figured she’d be able to get back to the grind in the next coming weeks, once the hybrids felt more at home and fell into a routine.

After a few moments of polishing a glass vase with a cloth on the table by Seokjin’s previous room, Y/N heard the clanging of the door knocker indicating her parent’s arrival. Tucking the cloth into her back pocket with a curse, Y/N tried her best to compose a pleasant expression on her face as she went for the door.

“Hi honey! We waited until the rain let up to come on over, oh! I see you’ve started on that staircase,” her mother rushed past her with large recycle bags as soon as Y/N swung the door open, her father sheepishly hobbling after her wheeling a little wooden wagon stacked with containers. Sputtering, Y/N patted her mother’s back as she quickly squeezed her, the midnight blue velvet shawl she was wearing slipping from her shoulders to her hooked elbows.

“Here, let me take those,” Y/N grabbed two of the bags her mother had stuffed with food, her father ruffling Y/N’s hair affectionately in greeting.

“Don’t refinish that staircase with that horrid glossy varnish again. When my father did that, I thought your grandmother was going to have a heart attack,” her mother warned, narrowing her eyes at the humongous box of hybrid clothes by the stairs Y/N had yet to unpack.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Y/N affirmed, making haste after her father who was already on his way to the kitchen.

“Now, where are your friends, honey?” Her mother inquired, her silver bangles making clinking noises as she gesticulated around the kitchen. Y/N hummed softly as she began unpacking boxes of salad greens and sacks of potatoes from the first bag.

“They’re upstairs, I think. I just brought three home from the shelter this morning, so one I had brought back yesterday offered to show them around to pick out bedrooms,” Y/N explained, wondering when Hoseok would bring everybody back down, and if he’d let Seokjin in on the situation at hand. “There’s still one I’m going back for tomorrow. It seems that it’s pretty difficult to earn his trust,” Y/N added, sliding several new bottles of condiments into the fridge.

“It’s good that you’re waiting for him to open up a bit more, darling. One of the worst things you can do to a hybrid is force them into a situation while they’re still distrustful of you,” her father pointed out the obvious, handing her a jug of orange juice.

“How old are these hybrids of yours, anyways, Y/N?” Her mother asked, packing a bunch of frozen fruit into the freezer.

“They’re all mid-to-late twenties,” Y/N replied casually, stretching up on her tiptoes to fill the cabinets with cans of various beans and boxes of pasta. Her mother had truly gone all out at the grocery store, like she was preparing her for a hurricane.

“Oh, good. They’ll fit in with all of your friends during the cookout,” her father said positively, folding up empty bags to put in the wagon he had brought along. His green jacket had a couple of yellow leaves stuck to it.

“I’m going to make some of those bean burgers out on the grill for lunch, honey. Keep the potato salad out, will you?” Her mother started towards the patio by herself with a lighter and a platter of patties and cheese, her father shaking his head fondly.

“Everything alright, sweetheart? You look like you haven’t been getting much sleep,” her father asked once her mother was out by the grill, accepting a stack of plates from Y/N. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Y/N smiled. Her father was always quick to see what was really going on with her.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been pulling a few late nights, and I had one of those nightmares last night– the one I used to have as a kid,” Y/N admitted, hugging her midsection. Her father’s eyebrows knit together in concern, smoothing his hand over hers on the counter.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s probably stress related, you’ve had some exciting past few days, with the adoptions and quitting your job,” he assured her, turning around when he heard her mother shouting at him through the glass door. Her father, unlike her mother, was not one for the supernatural or unexplained.

“She needs the buns. I’ll be right back,” her father murmured, bag of bulkie rolls in his fist as he trudged out into the patio.

Y/N put the remaining groceries away, the refrigerator and cabinets now fully stocked. She was extremely grateful to her mother, once admiring the full shelves, knowing that she likely wouldn’t have been able to make it to the store for a few more days herself. Somewhat comforted by her father’s logical words on the topic of her nightmare, she decided not to worry about it too much. Thinking about it too much may encourage the nightmares to begin recurring again.

“Hoseok said your parents are here?” Y/N spun around at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, his fiery eyes trained on her as he leaned against the counter. Again, Y/N wondered how long he had been standing there while she was staring into the cupboard with her eyes glazed over. He had a habit of sneaking up on her.

“Oh! Hi, Seokjin,” Y/N made her way to him, nodding her head towards the patio. “They’re out there. My mom’s making us some lunch.”

Seokjin followed Y/N’s gesture, peering out the window while she checked him out. His posture was lax, shirt a bit wrinkled from sleep, but there didn’t appear to be any blood leaking out from his patched-up wound through the fabric. Y/N was surprised he didn’t appear to have any sort of hangover, even with the 3/4th’s of a bottle of wine he had the night before.

“Ah. You look like your mom,” Seokjin commented under his breath, a whisper of a smile on his face. Blushing, Y/N busied herself with collecting silverware to place on the counter.

“How are you feeling today?” Y/N asked, Seokjin tearing his gaze from her parents bickering over the grill.

“Much better. Look,” turning back to see what Seokjin wanted to show her, Y/N nearly fell over as she came face-to-face with Seokjin lifting his shirt up to his shoulders, rotating slowly so she could see his side. Trying to keep her mouth from falling open, she realized the wound had mended itself to something that looked more like a nasty cat scratch, and his bruising had all but vanished. The fabric of his shirt fell quickly as he lifted it, Y/N’s face as hot as an iron.

“U-um, good! It looks like it healed pretty quickly!” Y/N rushed out, hastily stacking napkins on the island and almost shouting in relief as Hoseok bounded into the kitchen with Yoongi and Jimin in tow.

“They’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed, ears flickering as he looked out the window. Yoongi was reaching for the donut box again, and with the look of his thin cheeks, Y/N had no qualms letting him eat them all at this point.

“They brought us food, too,” Seokjin added, pointing to the cabinet full of snacks Y/N had left open before he came into the kitchen.

“Did you all pick out a room you like?” Y/N inquired, Yoongi tucking into a glazed donut. Nodding, he pointed to the ceiling.

“I’m going to stay in that beige room upstairs, if that’s alright. I like your piano up there, too. It’s beautiful,” Yoongi said through a mouthful of donut, sinking into a barstool.

“Of course, I was hoping one of you would stay in a tower room. Thank you, by the way– that piano has been here a long time, before my grandparents lived here. I think it was my grandmother’s father’s,” Y/N smiled, fond memories of trying to teach herself songs on the piano as a child popping up in her mind.

“Jeongguk picked that other tower room, the dark one. He went out to smoke again, said he’ll be down after,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, pushing hair out of his face. So Jeongguk would be in the room above Y/N– fitting, as her older cousin that used to stay there was just as bristly as him.

Taehyung appeared in the doorway, his expression a touch nervous as he noticed Y/N’s parents outside. He hung back, fiddling with the petals of a wilting flower arrangement on the coffee bar that Y/N had forgotten to replace a couple of days ago.

“And Taehyung is in that purple room by the billiard’s room. At least, that’s where he put all his stuff. He’s still not talking to us,” Hoseok muttered into Y/N’s ear, helping her set out glasses on the counter. It was curious, Taehyung seemed to only speak directly to her, and avoided the others at all costs. Even now, it looked like Taehyung wanted to say something to her as he watched her and Hoseok at the sink, but with the fox hybrid and Seokjin flanking her sides, he wouldn’t move an inch.

Flinching as the glass door of the slider screeched open, Y/N took a deep breath bracingly as her mother came in from outside.

“Honey, I need the hot sau– my goodness!” Her mother exclaimed upon seeing the kitchen filled with the five hybrids, pressing a hand to her mouth with glee. “Oh, honey– honey! Watch the burgers, I’ll be there in a few moments,” she shut the door, shooting Y/N a pointed look as she scanned all of the hybrids with a thoughtful face.

“Mom! Uh, let’s see,” Y/N panicked, waving her hands around, gesturing to Seokjin, “This is Seokjin, and Hoseok and Jimin… Yoongi is on the stool here, and over by the coffee pot that’s Taehyung,” Y/N blurted, each hybrid’s ears fluttering at the sounds of their names.

“My, you’re all such handsome young men, something my daughter neglected to tell me,” her mother crossed her arms with a playful expression, a choked sound coming from Hoseok’s throat next to Y/N. Heart falling to her ass, Y/N immediately felt heat shoot up her neck and pool in her cheeks, mouth gaping in horror at her mother’s audacity.

“Mom!” Y/N squeaked, wishing the floor would open up and suck her into the Earth’s core. Yoongi was laughing, eyes scrunched up in mirth as he watched the mortification bloom across Y/N’s features, and Y/N couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with any of the others.

“Relax, honey, could you get me that hot sauce?” Her mother waved her off, apparently not noticing Y/N’s distress. Numbly, she fumbled for the bottle in the fridge, Seokjin opening the door for her with an amused smile smugly set on his lips.

“Oh! Another one,” she heard her mother say, Y/N whipping her head around to see Jeongguk stalking into the room, eyes wide as he stared at her mother. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows, exchanging a bracing look with Y/N as she hastily brushed past him to shove the hot sauce in her mother’s hand.

“Um… Jeongguk…” the elk hybrid replied warily, trying to nonchalantly tuck the pack of cigarettes in his hand into his sweatpants pocket. Forcing herself to laugh lightly, the sound coming out more chopped up than she had hoped for, Y/N patted her mother on the back, urging her towards the patio again.

“Y/N, honey, I need another spatula too. Stop trying to shoo me away,” batting Y/N’s hand away, her mother winked at her knowingly.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll get it for you,” Jimin pulled a metal spatula off the wall hook by the stove, saving the day as he spoke up bravely. Mouth hanging open, Y/N stepped to the side as Jimin handed her mother the spatula, sliding the glass door to the outside open. “Do you need any help on the grill?”

“Oh, dear, that would be just wonderful…my husband is dreadful on the grill. Are you a Libra? You’re so polite,” her mother hooked a hand around Jimin’s elbow, the coyote hybrid’s bright smile as he led her out the door ever-blinding, but his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“A-a Libra?” Y/N heard Jimin stutter, leading her mother out to her father. Head in her hands, Y/N felt a migraine coming on.

“Jesus Christ. I’m sorry about her, she can be a little forward,” Y/N mumbled, too embarrassed to turn around and face the remaining hybrids. After that show, she wasn’t even worried about her father saying something vaguely silly to any of them.

“She’s funny. I’m going out there,” Hoseok returned confidently, giving Y/N’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he breezed past her and outside. Scoffing, disbelief flooding through her, she watched the fox hybrid saunter out to the grill, giving her father a firm handshake with a dimpled grin.

“Are we sitting out there?” Seokjin inquired suddenly, next to her with the stack of plates and silverware. Nodding dumbly, he too exited the kitchen in pursuit of the picnic table outside, tail swishing languidly behind him. Apparently, Y/N was the only one feeling the embarrassment of the whole situation.

“Well, at least Namjoon isn’t here, that’s all I gotta say,” Yoongi piped up as Y/N crawled to the coffee bar. Barking out a short laugh, Y/N pulled a fresh mug from the shelf to pour the dregs of the coffee pot into it, taking it like a shot. Watching her carefully was Taehyung, putting the bag of coffee beans down he had occupied himself with studying during the entire exchange with her mother.

“Fair, I suppose. Ugh, it’s just like her to ask Jimin about his zodiac sign, I mean seriously… oh shit, I should hide the tarot cards in the library before she gets an idea,” Y/N complained, dropping her mug into the sink with dismay. Yoongi simply chuckled, tucking a lock of his long hair behind his ear and rising from his seat.

“Should we go out?” Yoongi jabbed a thumb towards where the others were, Jimin appearing to be manning the grill with her father, Seokjin cornered by her mother at the picnic table. Gripping the countertop with unease, Y/N nodded as Yoongi looked at her quizzically, taking the container of potato salad with him.

“Let’s get this over with,” Y/N muttered to herself, Taehyung underfoot like a shadow as they marched outside. The last to trudge out, of course, was Jeongguk, who kept a good distance between himself and everybody else, eyes narrowing across the backyard towards the one of the trails further out into the property. Y/N wondered if he was planning his escape route, not that she blamed him.

“Yoongi! You’re a cook, right? Are these done?” Hoseok shouted from the grill, Y/N’s father scratching the back of his head as he hesitantly poked at a burger with a spatula, Jimin checking the propane levels of the tank under the grill. Shaking his head, Yoongi went over to investigate, exchanging the potato salad for the spatula with her father with an encouraging look.

“I brought these out, too,” jumping at Taehyung’s deep voice beside her, he lifted the napkins and glasses balanced in his arms. Despite his build being less muscular than Jeongguk’s, Taehyung had demonstrated considerable strength in the past couple of hours– especially with the stack of nine water glasses he was currently holding up with three fingers.

“Oh, good, thank you Taehyung! Let’s go rescue Seokjin and help set the table, shall we?” Y/N eyed her mother, who had somehow managed to get Seokjin to sit down on the bench while she perched on the table in front of him, explaining something with wild hand gestures. Seokjin looked extremely confused, ears turned backwards.

“Hi, everything alright over here?” Y/N interrupted her mother, who was actually giving Seokjin a history lesson on the grounds. Seokjin’s eyes softened as he saw Y/N peek over her mother’s shoulder.

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be my silly girl? Don’t worry so much, Y/N, I was just telling Seokjin here about the pond over by the old stable back there,” her mother smoothed a hand over Y/N’s back comfortingly, her spicy perfume suddenly making her nostalgic. Y/N was just glad she wasn’t inquiring about a betrothal between Seokjin and herself.

“I didn’t know there was so much land back here,” Seokjin straightened out a plate beside him, curiously watching Taehyung place the glasses and napkins and brushing leaves off of the table.

“Well, that’s because Y/N hasn’t started clearing all the brush out of here, honey. When I was a kid living here, my father and uncles were meticulous with the landscaping,” her mother informed him, irking Y/N as she reminded her of all of the things she had yet to accomplish with the family home.

Lowering herself onto the dampened wood of the picnic bench across from Seokjin, Y/N grimaced at the slimy feeling, all too familiar from summer's past. Taehyung made himself comfortable next to her, not noticing her mother studying the side of his face as he lowered an ant crawling by his plate onto the grass.

“You’re Taehyung, right sweetheart?” Standing, her mother found her spot next to Seokjin, whose cheeks were turning rosy as she used his shoulder to lower herself down. Taehyung nodded, twiddling his fingers, evidently not keen on speaking to her mother, either.

Y/N could hear Jeongguk and Yoongi bickering from all the way where she was sitting, but she sensed no malice in the words yet. Her father was laughing with Jimin and Hoseok, deep in conversation. Y/N had a suspicion earlier that her father would like Hoseok; they were pretty similar in certain ways Y/N had observed in the fox hybrid so far. Jimin was nothing but perfectly pleasant in general, so it was no surprise that he was able to charm both of her parents.

Starting to relax a little bit now that she had her eye on her mother, Y/N felt the caffeine start to make her crash a little. There were so many things she wanted to do later in the day with the hybrids, namely gifting them all of their new clothes and maybe going for a nice evening walk around the trails in the backyard. She wasn’t too sure if she could fit in a nap that afternoon, but she was determined to make the most of the energy she had left in order to make everyone feel at home, safe, and entertained– perhaps to make up for the spontaneous dropping in of her parents, as well.

As she was lost in thought, she hardly registered her father, ambling over with the potato salad and a frosty jug of iced tea from the fridge, setting it down on the table and snapping her out of her reverie as he took his spot next to her mother. The latter had gone back to chatting with Seokjin about the house, his attentive listening actually quite adorable. Melting a tad, Y/N poured a glass of tea for Taehyung and then herself, sliding the jug across the table for Seokjin. In the middle of all of this, Jeongguk had found his way to the table, sitting at the farthest part of the table on Y/N’s side.

“Here we go,” Yoongi carefully approached the table, perfectly cooked burgers nestled on the platter on his arm making Y/N’s mouth water. He had tucked the spatula in the waistband of his sweatpants, Hoseok right behind him with his own plate of buns.

“Ah, look. Yoongi even toasted the buns,” Hoseok pointed out excitedly, setting them down in front of her father and taking his seat next to him. Yoongi was a little pink from standing in front of the grill, clutching the platter tightly as Jimin danced around him to grab a seat beside Hoseok. Everyone still seemed to be avoiding both Taehyung and Jeongguk, Yoongi reluctantly sitting in between them with his lips pursed.

“Thank you for taking over, honey. I think you cooked them better than I could have,” her mother gushed to Yoongi, already helping herself to a bun and burger. Yoongi ducked his head in embarrassment, taking a sip of some iced tea Seokjin had kindly poured for everyone else at the table.

“Yoongi said he worked at a bar in the city, cooked there, too,” Hoseok said around a mouthful of potato salad, swatting a mosquito that was buzzing around his twitching ears.

“What bar? My husband and I have been to almost every bar in Boston,” her mother inquired, putting a bun and burger on Seokjin’s plate for him. Clearing his throat, Yoongi’s hands stilled while slathering ketchup on his bun, an odd look crossing his face.

“The Black Lodge,” was all he said in response, quickly taking a bite of his burger to prevent him from having to speak further. The name rang a small bell in Y/N’s mind, but she had no memory of actually spending time at a bar by that name– it certainly wasn’t one on the streets of her old stomping grounds, perhaps it was closer to Cambridge, or tucked away in a corner street she and her friends didn’t venture out to. Her mother and father exchanged identical shrugs, apparently they hadn’t patroned the bar either.

Her father was extremely interested in Jimin’s time as a rancher, perhaps because he was a fan of old western movies. Thankfully, he didn’t bring this fact up, as Y/N recalled Jimin’s recoil from Hoseok’s cowboy comment. Taehyung remained quiet as a mouse next to her, his elbow occasionally brushing her’s when he reached for his glass of tea. She’d have to do some brainstorming on how to get him to open up a bit more to the others; Y/N was just counting her lucky stars he was even speaking to her.

“Y/N, honey, remember Mrs. Khan’s hybrid when you were little? Keaon, the white fox… they moved away, our old neighbors– to Maine. Well, anyways, don’t you remember him? You always loved when he’d shift, and play with you in the yard,” her mother suddenly brought up, both embarrassing and puzzling her. She shrunk a little under the gazes of most of the hybrids, their expressions piqued with interest.

“Yeah, I remember Keaon, why do you ask?”

“Well, I noticed Hoseok is a fox, too! You know, foxes have always been Y/N’s favorite animal ever since she was a kid,” her mother said matter-of-factly, Y/N flinching in her seat with her statement.

“I–” she started, words dying on her lips as Hoseok began laughing boisterously.

“Oh, is that true?” Hoseok chuckled, thankfully not sending a wink her way as the table all turned to look at him.

“Yes, yes! There’s a picture framed in the library of her and Keaon, we took it at the cookout before they moved away. Oh, poor Y/N– she was devastated when he left,” her mother pouted sympathetically, Y/N wanting to bolt into the house and lock her bedroom door. So much for her mother backing down on the humiliation.

“Alright mom, come on! I was like ten when they moved!” Y/N groaned in exasperation, her appetite vanishing as she poked some potato salad on her plate with a fork. She hadn’t thought about Keaon in years, and was surprised that her mother had made the connection to Hoseok before she had. In addition, she felt eyes boring into her from all directions, increasing her discomfort tenfold.

“Dear, did you know that Jimin worked at a national park?” Her father changed the subject, picking up on Y/N’s embarrassment, the table breaking into a new conversation with Jimin at the center of it. Breathing a sigh of relief, she happily sunk into the background, her father clearly favoring both the coyote hybrid and Hoseok. Her mother continued to fuss over Seokjin, piling more potato salad onto his plate, before considering Yoongi’s empty plate and reaching over the table to do the same.

Jeongguk had smuggled his little journal to the table, Y/N noticed him hiding it on his lap, flipping through it almost frantically and periodically checking his surroundings like he was being surveilled. Raising an eyebrow, Y/N wondered what exactly the journal contained – he didn’t seem like the diary type.

The sun had come out by now, warming Y/N’s skin pleasantly and evaporating the gloomy mist that was hugging the brush in the backyard. The light shone on pretty strands of crimson in Hoseok’s dark auburn hair as he teased Jimin, who looked more relaxed than ever conversing with the fox hybrid and her father. While the lunch had its hiccups at Y/N’s expense, it brought her happiness that her parents seemed to like all of the hybrids so much, and the latter didn’t seem to mind their questions or antics.

Now that she thought about it, perhaps she was overestimating her mother’s matchmaking tendencies. While she was certainly aggressive about it in college, over the last couple of years her mother had backed off significantly with the blind dates and nudging her towards handsome strangers at the library whenever she helped out with the book club. She hadn’t even offered Y/N a love reading in quite some time. Y/N started to feel a bit bad for thinking that her mother would try and set her up with hybrids she would be living with, painting such a bad picture of her in her head when in reality she seemed to truly be determined to make the hybrids feel welcomed.

“Cookout?” Seokjin’s voice had her re-focusing on the flow of the conversation.

“I guess she hasn’t had the time to tell you all yet. This Friday, Y/N is going to host our end-of-the-summer cookout here. We have a bonfire, lots of food, and you’ll get to meet the neighbors!” Her mother cheerily exclaimed, collecting dishes from people in her immediate surroundings. Seokjin cocked his head, looking at Y/N for confirmation. He had a little bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah! It’s always a lot of fun, and you can meet some of my friends, too,” Y/N encouraged, knowing that her weekly three-way video call with Laura and Alice was coming up, creating the perfect opportunity for her to break the news of the adoptions and the upcoming cookout. Laura wasn’t able to come the year before, her son coming down with a fever the day of the event, so Y/N knew that she’d be extremely excited to introduce her son to the hybrids; kids loved them, and it would be very sweet to see the hybrids interact with a child, Y/N thought.

Y/N hadn’t seen her two friends, the twin sisters Laura and Alice Santos, who she had met in elementary school – in months. With her hours at work, Laura’s packed schedule with little Kai and her husband Tyler taking up much of her time, and Alice’s newly appointed position at the newspaper she wrote for, all three girls passed each other by like ships in the night. Gone were the days of spending the weekends at new tapas bars and trendy brunch spots once the pace of adult life really began to pick up. Y/N was desperate for time with her girlfriends, the thought of a sleepover watching 90’s rom coms and eating greasy pizza with them almost brought a tear to her eye. She was determined to make more plans with them for the future with her newfound free time, once she actually saw them at the cookout, not planning on letting them leave without at least one adventure in the books.

Y/N began to help everyone clear away the plates, noticing Jeongguk sneaking away towards the side of the house, nose in his notebook and cigarette burning at his fingertips. Shaking her head, Y/N sped into the house, trying to avoid Hoseok in case of the likely event he’d begin to tease her about the fox conversation. Yoongi was hard at work at the sink already with gloves, scrubbing grease off of the spatula and handing Jimin utensils to place in the dishwasher.

“Oh dear! What time is it, honey? I have to get to the library for the book club by two!” Her mother suddenly gasped as she lugged plates into the kitchen, snatching her father’s wrist to get a look at the time on his watch. A frown settled over her features, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders in dismay.

“If you want to be on time, we should probably get going, darling,” her father noted calmly, giving Hoseok a pat on the back as he picked up a fork her father dropped in the chaos.

“I’m sorry, sweets, we wanted to stay a bit longer and get to know you all some more, but I suppose it’ll have to wait until Friday,” her mother rubbed Y/N’s arm mournfully while she put the jug of iced tea back in the fridge, her head turned to speak to the hybrids. Snorting at her mother’s affection for the hybrids already, she walked her parents to the door, Seokjin and Taehyung evidently competing to see who could stick to her more closely on the way. She thought she felt a light tug at the back of her tee shirt, but chalked it up to her wild imagination.

“By the way, honey. I talked to Judy the other day; she’s looking for help at her shop in town. Something to think about, while you figure out what’s next,” her mother suddenly offered, pausing on the porch. Judy, her mother’s friend from high school, owned a metaphysical store in the town square, selling candles, books, and herbs. Not exactly similar to what she was doing at the animal hospital, but a possible source of income nonetheless.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. Bye mom, dad,” Y/N pulled her parents into a group hug, grateful for the book club’s meeting cutting their visit short. Her father ruffled her hair once more, lugging the wooden wagon that was carrying the food earlier down the porch steps. Waving to Seokjin and Taehyung hanging by the threshold of the front door, her mother spirited away down the street, her father trying his best to keep up in her haste.

Y/N let out a long, ragged breath of relief as they disappeared from view, making a mental note to check in with Judy sometime during the week. It was highly likely that her mother told Judy that Y/N would be able to start right away, and it wasn’t the worst job she could land while figuring out where her career would take her next. Besides, she definitely needed an income to cover future expenses in order to provide for her new housemates.

Turning to the two hybrids waiting for her at the door, she gave them a grateful smile, hoping it would convey her sympathy for putting up with her parents for so long. Seokjin, with his sweet disposition, had gotten the brunt of her mother’s fussing and doting. At least Taehyung’s silence saved him from some cheek-pinching. Seokjin stepped to the side, allowing her through the door, closing it as soon as Taehyung scampered out of the way. Y/N stopped short at the stairs, the big box of clothes sparking a happy excitement for the first time that afternoon.

“What’s in there? I noticed it this morning, did you order a refrigerator or something?” Seokjin wondered aloud, nudging the box with his sock-clad foot. Y/N heard the sound of the dishwasher kicking on, and the hushed voices of Jimin and Yoongi in the kitchen.

“I got you guys some clothes, just to last you until we can get to the stores and you can pick out stuff yourself. I felt bad you only had that one set from the shelter, but I hope you like some of the things I picked out… I don’t know your personal styles, yet, of course,” Y/N replied, using her thumbnail to slice open the tape on the box. A soft exclamation came from Seokjin as he stood behind her crouched form, curiously watching her peel the flaps of the box open while Taehyung plopped down on the stairs to do the same.

“You got us clothes? When?” Seokjin breathed, Y/N pulling out all of the sock packs piled on the top of the order and setting them to the side. Humming a tune, she happily made piles for each hybrid, checking the sizes on the packs of boxers to make the piles accordingly. She hadn’t noticed Taehyung turning pink at the sight of the underwear, turning his face to stare at the basement door.

“Last night! I found a great online site, overnight delivery. I wrote down all your measurements on my phone yesterday morning so I could get things that fit properly.”

“Huh? What’s all this?” Hoseok strolled out of the kitchen, eyes round in surprise at the rather large stacks of underwear, socks, and pajamas Y/N was still adding to. She was amazed at how small the items were folded in order to fit inside the box, it seemed practically bottomless.

“Y/N bought us some clothes!” Seokjin was now crouched down next to Y/N, eagerly glancing into the box as she unpacked it. Hoseok whistled, plucking up a pair of slides that Y/N placed on top of Jeongguk’s pile to examine.

“Oh, no, Hoseok, these ones are yours,” Y/N pointed to the pile by his foot, Hoseok promptly setting Jeongguk’s down and trying on his own pair of slides, flexing his feet and taking them for a lap around the foyer.

“Wow, these are comfy,” Hoseok commented, running in place. Giggling, Y/N pulled out a cobalt blue v-neck long sleeve, checking the tag to recall who she had gotten it for. The material was much silkier and softer than the picture on the website gave justice for, and she had to suppress the urge to press it to her face.

“Taehyung, this is for you,” Y/N sang, placing it gently in his lap instead of his pile she had been stacking on the step next to him. He ran his fingers over the shirt, holding it up to his chest to check the fit.

“You didn’t have to get all of this, you know,” Hoseok tutted, hesitantly accepting the sage thermal from her outstretched hand. Seokjin grumbled from beside her, shooting the fox hybrid a dirty look. Scoffing, she added the black satin button down she had purchased for Yoongi into his heap.

“And what? Let you all stroll around in a single set of sweats for a week? Come on, Hoseok,” Y/N scolded, spotting Jimin and Yoongi slinking into the room in search of the commotion. Hoseok was effectively clammed up with her response, scratching the back of his head, his lips pressed together.

“Whoa, is it Christmas?” Yoongi shouldered past Hoseok, the front of his white tee shirt wet from washing dishes at the sink. Hair falling forward, his ears turned back as Y/N gestured towards his stash of clothing, eyebrow raised. “So that was what was in that huge box.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should leave Namjoon’s things in this box?” Y/N pondered aloud, folding the dusty rose thermal she had gotten for him, the fabric cozy to the touch. She could place his toiletries in there, too, so he’d have everything in one place when he arrived. Judging by his measurements, Namjoon was the biggest of all the hybrids, only piquing Y/N’s curiosity over his appearance, as well as her intimidation towards him already.

“Where’s the elk?” Hoseok peeked into the kitchen, his slides making a slapping sound against the marble tile of the foyer. “He’s going to give himself lung cancer at this rate.”

“Ah, just leave him, Foxy, it’s nice without the storm cloud he brings along with him,” Yoongi complained from his spot on the floor he had dropped to, throwing his head back in annoyance. Snorting, Y/N finished sorting out all of the clothing, partly regretting stacking everything on the floor because it would be difficult for the hybrids to carry so many items to their rooms without making multiple trips; and she only had two hands to help one at a time.

“Your parents were so nice,” Jimin commented out of the blue, Y/N almost forgetting he was there leaning against the staircase banister by Taehyung. A noise of surprise ripped from the back of her throat, recalling her mother’s arm looped through Jimin’s when he went outside to help at the grill, like he was walking her through a homecoming promenade. “Although, I felt bad that I didn’t know what your mother meant by being a ‘Libra’,” he trailed off, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Y/N giggled, tucking away Namjoon’s things for later. Seokjin was busy admiring the lavender shirt she offered him, his tail flicking back and forth in a pleased manner, the appendage occasionally brushing her calf from where she was crouched.

“It’s a zodiac sign, there’s twelve of them, and they’re given according to your birthday. Funnily enough, you are a Libra, Jimin – October 13th, right?” Y/N had all of the hybrid’s birthdays on her phone already, noticing the night before that Jeongguk and Namjoon’s birthdays were coming up quickly. Y/N loved celebrating birthdays, and had to come up with a scheme to get close to the two hybrids somehow so she could plan a nice celebration for the both of them.

“How did she even guess that?” Yoongi scoffed, hauling himself to his feet with some of his clothes slung over his arms.

“My mother has a bit of a knack for knowing, if that’s what you want to call it,” Y/N shrugged as she almost teetered over trying to stand, electricity zapping through her as Seokjin’s hand slid into her’s, gently hoisting her onto her feet. Unfortunately for her, her foot caught an old floor tile that was sticking up a little, making her stumble back directly into Seokjin’s broad chest– a small oof coming from the jaguar hybrid at the contact.

Though Seokjin was the one she knocked into, it felt like she was the one with the air punched out of her, his hands coming around to grip her waist to right her upwards and away from his chest. Squeaking out an apology and a thank-you, she couldn’t bear to turn and get a look at his face. Horrified, she made awkward eye-contact with Hoseok, who had an eyebrow raised at Seokjin’s hands still around her waist. Quickly stepping away from Seokjin, his hands sliding from her body, she gathered up some of Jimin’s clothes, eager to flee the scene with the coyote hybrid who was surreptitiously looking out the window by the front door.

“I’ll help you guys carry this stuff to your rooms, okay? Just gonna start with Jimin, his room’s the closest,” Y/N rushed out loudly, halfway down the hall already. Her heart was racing, seeing the smug look on Yoongi’s face and feeling Taehyung’s eyes bore into the side of her skull when she fell into Seokjin. She really had to work on the clumsiness.

Rushing into Jimin’s room, Y/N laid down the clothes on his impeccably made bed. His window was cracked open, a beat-up copy of Play It as It Lays sitting on the blue velvet chair next positioned next to the window. It wasn’t her copy of the book, but she was pleasantly surprised by Jimin’s taste in literature. The book must have been one of the items in his knapsack from the shelter garbage bag.

Jimin scuffed into the room shortly after her, Y/N busy placing folded tee shirts into his dresser so she could avoid his eyes. Clearing his throat, he knelt beside her to stack his socks into the drawer. Peeking at him through her peripherals, there was a smirk curling up the corner of his mouth. Huffing, Y/N tucked a pair of pajama pants into the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Okay, go ahead and laugh,” Y/N insisted, Jimin’s shoulders shaking with his suppressed chuckling. Shaking his head, he allowed a small laugh to escape, golden eyes squinted with glee.

“Miss Y/N, you’re pretty clumsy. If it gets any worse, it may become worrisome,” Jimin remarked matter-of-factly, swatting away the tank top Y/N had tossed at his face. Sighing, she couldn’t help but agree with the coyote hybrid as she was more jumpy than ever since they all had arrived at the house. That, and she could still feel the weight of Seokjin’s hands on her waist, adding to her feelings of jitteriness.

“I have to work on that, don’t I?” Y/N sighed, leaning against the door to the hallway. Jimin worked quickly putting all of his clothes away, humming contentedly as he went, still shaking his head with amusement. “Maybe I should start using that gym downstairs…”

“You could work out with Hoseok, he has great balance,” Jimin encouraged, ear twitching at some sound Y/N couldn’t hear. “I think Jeongguk just came in from the backyard.”

Straightening out, Y/N peered down the hall, nervously grinding her teeth. She’d might as well go out and help Jeongguk with his clothing, as Jimin was pretty much all set with putting his own things away. Cocking his head, Jimin looked at her with sympathy, settling himself on his chair by the window.

“I’m gonna go check in on him. See you in a bit?” With a nod from Jimin, she left his room, setting off down the hall to search for the elk hybrid. She followed her nose, the scent of smoke clinging to Jeongguk as he stood with his back to her, dumbstruck, in the foyer. The other hybrids had cleared out and already lugged their share of clothing away; all that was left was Namjoon’s box and the everything she had left by the stairs for Jeongguk.

“Hey, you’re back?” Y/N skipped up to his side, deciding not to be intimidated by his looks or sharp tongue anymore, it was unlike her anyhow. Besides, killing with kindness was her specialty. Jeongguk flinched at the sound of her voice, hurriedly tucking his journal into his pocket and craning his neck to peer down at her by his side. Somewhere, he had found an Anchor Animal Hospital pen Y/N had stolen from the office, tucked behind his heavily pierced ear. Narrowing his eyes at her, he crossed his arms over his chest, nodding towards the clothes.

“I’m assuming these are for us?” He ignored her greeting, not-so-subtly scooching a few inches away from her. Smirking, Y/N brightened up a bit, loving the potential challenge of getting him to crack.

“Mm-hm, that pile over there is for you. Left everything for Namjoon in that box,” Y/N confirmed, gathering half of his garments up in her arms to help him up the stairs. “Come on, I’ll help you bring it all up to your room.”

“Wait,” Jeongguk choked out, scrambling to grab the remainder of his clothes and jog up the stairs behind her. Muttering curses, Jeongguk followed her towards the end of the hallway to his room, the wallpaper peeling on the walls outside of the bedrooms. Y/N had yet to get to the second floor living spaces for restoration purposes, and to be frank, the whole floor gave her the creeps. She was saving the task for last, once she finished working on her bathroom and the staircase, but now that she had the hybrids living there, she felt it was more important to make the space most of them were occupying less Amityville Horror-esque.

Passing by Taehyung’s room, she caught a glimpse of him shrugging on his new hoodie in the full-length mirror by his closet. Grinning, she continued to Jeongguk’s bedroom, a cool breeze coming in through the little door out to the balcony he had left open. While the bedroom was newly refinished, it still set her on edge, mainly due to the memories of her cousin chasing her out of that very bedroom in a Ghostface mask as a kid. Y/N gently laid Jeongguk’s clothes on the velvet bench in front of his bed, the elk hybrid awkwardly standing in the doorway with his arms full of packs of boxers and socks. She wanted to get a better look at him, especially his tattoos and the antlers encircling his head, but found it hard to stare at him for too long.

“Did you walk around the back yard a bit? It goes back pretty far,” Y/N opened up his empty wardrobe, the deep scent of hickory smacking her in the face. Jeongguk grunted in response, shuffling over to her side to push the folded clothes into the wardrobe with haste. Snorting, Y/N continued to put his clothes away, smoothing out the materials so they laid flat. As they worked side-by-side, she studied the red iris tattooed on his forearm with minor interest.

“How are you planning on getting the wolf back here? From the looks of it, he doesn’t like you at all,” Jeongguk said after a few moments, taking Y/N by surprise. Frowning at the pajama pants she was sliding into the wardrobe, she considered his statement– while rude, he wasn’t wrong at all.

“I’m still thinking about that, honestly. I’m not sure what I can say to get him to trust me just enough to get him out of that shelter, but I really don’t want to have him deal with Gerry much longer. That guy is an asshole,” she admitted, self-consciously squeezing her eyes shut. Jeongguk said nothing, the sound of him traipsing over to the balcony door making her sneak a peek at his form.

Leaning out the window, Jeongguk spoke with a cigarette poised between his lips, “Well, there’s not much you can say to convince him to trust you; trust doesn’t work like that. He either has to suck it up and get in the car with you or rot in that shelter,” he lifted his pierced brow at her, sparking up his lighter, not bothering to ask whether or not he could smoke in the house. Y/N didn’t have the courage to dissuade him, especially when he was seemingly attempting to help her with the Namjoon situation in his own way.

Shutting his wardrobe, Y/N considered his words as he leaned over the balcony to smoke. Perhaps she was going about getting Namjoon home the wrong way; Jeongguk was right, trust has to be earned over time, not with perfectly strung together pretty words to convince. Y/N didn’t think that pointing out to Namjoon the following morning that he would have to continue enduring life at the shelter unless he came along with her was wise, either. She supposed in the end, all she could do was keep persisting and returning to the shelter until he was comfortable to leave with her.

There was also the ordeal of Hoseok’s fear of wolves– something Y/N understood as she had a few phobias of her own– which didn’t make things exactly easier. Y/N felt fortunate that Hoseok was so kind to her right off the bat and her affection for him was already growing steadily, so introducing a hybrid into the house that would make him feel on edge was borderline heartbreaking to her. There would have to be a conversation between her and Hoseok in the near future surrounding the issue, which was another thing she had no idea how to go about. Consulting Seokjin would be a likely solution for tips on how to dance around the subject of Hoseok’s wolf phobia.

Realizing that she was staring at Jeongguk, leaning lazily over the balcony with his eyes roaming rapidly over the landscape of the backyard, Y/N awkwardly shuffled her feet, snapping out of her internal monologue.

“So… I’ll leave you to it. I’m gonna check on the others and clean up a bit downstairs. Um, thanks for your advice, by the way,” Y/N made her way to the door, Jeongguk humming in response, not sparing her a glance as she slipped from the room. She shut the door behind her, hoping it would block out most of the smoky scent coming from the room, trudging down the hall deep in thought.

Jeongguk was a bit of an interesting character. Clearly, he wouldn’t be warming up to her as quickly as say, Hoseok and Seokjin. However, the latter two painted such an unflattering picture of him for Y/N the night prior, and she had yet to experience much from Jeongguk to back that up. Sure, there was the exchange at the shelter, but Y/N could understand where he was coming from with his speculation of her intentions, especially when Ben made similar points in nicer words. With time, Y/N had a feeling that Jeongguk would come around; she was just hoping there would be less fights between him and the others now that they had the space to distance themselves.

“Hi,” a soft greeting had Y/N nearly jump out of her skin, clutching her chest as she whirled around to face the voice– Taehyung, in his new black hoodie, standing outside of his bedroom. She had to get used to people living with her if she didn’t want to have a heart attack every time one of the hybrids sought her out, pronto. Dropping her hand from her chest, she found herself melting under his garnet eyes.

“Hey, Taehyung, that sweatshirt looks nice! What’s up?” She leaned into the banister by the stairs, hearing Yoongi and Seokjin’s voices from the room down the hall with the piano.

“Oh, um, thank you… it’s comfortable. I was just wondering what you were doing,” he murmured while shoving his hands in the hoodie pocket, his voice quite low so Y/N had to strain her ears to hear him. Truthfully, she was on her way to clear out her old wardrobe in the green room on the off-chance Namjoon decided to claim it, as there were plenty of other rooms he would get to choose from. She just didn’t want to be caught with her pants down.

“I was going to pack up my clothes from when I was a teen, and bring them down to the storage closet in the basement,” Y/N swiped a finger over the banister, collecting a thin layer of dust from the wood with a pout. Looks like she had neglected her cleaning duties during the past few months of mayhem at work.

“Can I come?” Taehyung quickly asked, shooting a glance down the hall at a peal of laughter coming from Seokjin. A noise of surprise came from Y/N involuntarily, delighted that she would have some company during her task, and even more excited that she could potentially get to know Taehyung better. Grinning, she nodded enthusiastically, motioning to follow her down the stairs. He synched up in her stride, hair curtaining his face in soft curls, almost completely covering his rounded ears just barely peeking out above the dark curls. Taehyung definitely looked the most human compared to some of the other hybrids, apart from the redness in his eye color.

“Taehyung, I’ve been meaning to ask… what kind of bear hybrid are you? It didn’t say on your information sheet at the shelter, and I’m curious,” Y/N wondered as they descended the stairs, a few out-of-tune notes from the piano floating from the billiard’s room as she spoke.

“Kodiak, I’m from Alaska, originally,” Taehyung answered after a few moments, Y/N having to lean closer to him to hear.

“Alaska! I’ve always wanted to go there, it’s a beautiful state,” Y/N gushed, part of her wondering how he had made it all the way to Boston. Jimin, too, was from far away, and she still didn’t even know where the others had traveled from besides Yoongi, an apparent Boston native.

“Yeah…” Taehyung murmured, evidently not keen on elaborating on his former home.

Again, like when her parents were leaving earlier, Y/N felt a tugging sensation on her shirt hem. Bewildered, she peered at Taehyung– whose hands were still buried in his pockets. A chill crept up her spine as Taehyung cocked his head quizzically, waiting for her to lead the way to the green room, as she felt unease worm its way into her chest.

For a long time, Y/N had shut out her connection to the supernatural elements of life. Y/N, picking a career path that was based in science, logic, and method, had done so in an attempt to distance herself from her childhood and the way she was raised. Her mother, a witch, filled her youth with the beautiful aspects of all that the occult can be; reverence of nature, how to identify friendly house spirits, card reading and spiritual cleansing. But as her mother had once told her, something that she had always kept in the back of her mind: once you open yourself up to the spiritual world, there is no turning back.

There were instances growing up where she had encountered frightening things within her grandparent’s house, and had that recurring nightmare with the terrifying creature pursuing her off and on for years. Spirituality she had once so gleefully embraced had turned into the source of her constantly looking over her shoulder, seeking the owners of whispered words and fingers tugging a lock of hair. She loved the house, but it was full of secrets. Y/N had hoped by the time she had moved in after years of being away from the house, and apart from her dabbling in the supernatural, she could live there with her newly forged skeptic’s mind without a problem. With the return of her nightmare, and the uptick in brushes from an unseen force in the last few days, Y/N saw those hopes dashed and divided.

Unnerved, she sped into the green room, Taehyung following closely behind. It might be time for her to get back into working some protective magic, she didn’t want things to get to the point where spirits were bothering the hybrids. Spirits, hybrids– these weren’t the sort of things Y/N thought she’d be dealing with months ago, so much for the plan of living a semi-normal life.

“Alright, I think this will fit everything…” Y/N tabled her worry over the ghost matter, dragging her old duffle bag out from the closet. Taehyung had made himself comfortable on his side, laying on the bed with his head propped up on his arm. Chuckling, she felt a lot better that there was someone with her while she turned over some of her anxieties in her mind. Flinging open the wardrobe, she cringed at the amount of black tee shirts about to tumble out and drown her, most of them stuffed in there without being folded. She shoved her arms in the wardrobe to pull out a big stack, bringing them over to the bed to place in the duffle bag.

Taehyung sat up, reaching for a tee shirt to fold without a word. Footsteps from upstairs made the tips of Taehyung’s ears flutter, to which he pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt upon noticing Y/N’s eyes on them. Strange.

“Hmm. Alice In Chains, nice,” Taehyung commented after a few moments, smoothing out the tee shirt on his lap with a smirk. That was one of her favorite shirts in high school, and one of the less embarrassing shirts of the bunch compared to the Green Day crop top she was hurriedly stuffing in the duffle bag.

“Grunge fan?” Y/N asked with a smile, dumping another batch of baggy garments on the bed beside him.

“Definitely. Wish I could have seen some of the bands in concert in the 90’s,” he replied with a tone of melancholy. If Taehyung was a classmate of hers in highschool, Y/N would have had an embarrassingly huge crush on him. Nodding in agreement, she wondered if busting out a MTV Unplugged DVD would be a nice bonding moment between them.

As they worked in comfortable silence, Taehyung would occasionally snort with amusement, lifting up a blink-128 tee shirt to Y/N’s humiliation, but it was all in good humor. Leafing through some of the relics of her past usually made her quite sad, but with Taehyung there, and his thoughtful comments on certain artists she used to love, it was actually an enjoyable experience.

“Oh, did you know that Mad Season was–” Taehyung began, but was immediately cut off by the sound of the door creaking open and a newcomer barreling into the room.

“Hey, I was looking for you!” Seokjin exclaimed, his cheeks flushed as his eyes narrowed in on Taehyung before softening at Y/N’s slightly-startled gaping mouth. “What are you guys doing?”

“I’m cleaning out the wardrobe here, just in case Namjoon wants this bedroom. Taehyung’s helping out, too,” she explained, noticing Seokjin’s damp hair and change of clothes. He had donned the lavender tee shirt she had selected for him, which looked unfairly good on him, picking up the sunset in his eyes perfectly.

“Could you use an extra set of hands?” He made his way to her side, picking up a pair of baggy jeans. They were almost done, but Y/N had no right to deny his help when he was so eager to assist.

“Thanks, Seokjin. You’re so helpful,” Y/N praised, giving him a fond pat on his shoulder. Seokjin straightened out his back at the praise, fingers fumbling to fold the denim properly. Taehyung fell into his usual silence again, as he normally did when another hybrid was around, much to Y/N’s disappointment. She’d have to ask him later what he was going to say about Mad Season.

“So, I think tomorrow afternoon, we could all do something fun! We could walk around town, maybe go to the bookstore, get some ice cream before the shop closes for the season. Anything you want to do in particular?” Y/N tucked a plaid pair of pants into the bag, getting it out of her sight as rapidly as possible. After a couple days of mayhem, she thought it would be nice to spend a day out relaxing and getting to know one another.

“Is there a music store around here?” Taehyung mused, Seokjin dropping the lacy tank top he was holding in shock. Y/N, too, was surprised he spoke in front of the jaguar hybrid, but was more overjoyed that he came out of his shell a little bit to do so.

“Yeah, there’s a vinyl shop in the town square. They sell instruments, equipment and offer lessons, too,” Y/N zipped the last of the clothes into the duffle, admiring the empty wardrobe with glee. With some of her new free time, she was considering taking up some piano lessons, so the trip to the music store would be a worthwhile venture in tandem with making Taehyung happy.

With a sweet smile, Taehyung nodded, slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder before Y/N could grasp the straps. Seokjin was still gaping at the Kodiak hybrid, blinking rapidly and nudging Y/N’s ribcage with his elbow. Shrugging, she grasped Seokjin’s wrist to tow him along, hurrying after Taehyung’s path to the basement door. The heavy weight of Seokjin’s wrist in her hand felt grounding, and ever since Seokjin had awoken from his fever the previous day, Y/N couldn’t help but want to be near him, to reach out and touch him in some way. He didn’t seem to mind being pulled along, head hanging bashfully as he tried to match her stride exactly.

“Here?” Taehyung pointed at the bottom of the basement steps, to a little alcove tucked under the stairway where Y/N stashed her winter jackets. She gave him a thumbs-up, reluctantly dropping Seokjin’s wrist she was still cradling, watching Taehyung heave the bag down and push it under the stairs.

Peering around the basement in search of her fox hybrid, Y/N poked her head into the bathroom, twirled around the gym, and even stepped into Hoseok’s room to find it empty. Disappointed, as she was already missing him regardless of his incessant teasing, she pouted, returning to Taehyung and Seokjin already bounding up the stairs. Even with the basement being beautifully and cheerily refinished, she didn’t want to be left alone down there, especially with whatever kept tugging at her shirt all day long.

“Hey Seokjin, you know where Hoseok is?” Y/N gasped as she made it up the stairs, more out-of-shape than she cared to admit. Running after the hybrids was harder than it looked, considering their inhumane speed and strength. Seokjin’s chest wasn’t heaving like her’s from the effort, and Taehyung was even yawning into his elbow.

“Watching TV with Jimin, last I heard,” as if on cue, she heard Hoseok’s laughter ringing through the halls in the direction of the parlor. Y/N nearly fainted at the thought of sinking into the couch for a couple of hours, hoping to marinate in her thoughts about bringing Namjoon home.

“I think I might join them, if you two want to come as well,” she pressed her hand over her heart, the rate slowly going back to normal as she admired the way Seokjin’s curls had dried over his face, silkier now that they were clean. Again, the two clung to her like glue as they followed her to the TV room, sandwiching her so closely she could heat coming off of their bodies. She felt like she had bodyguards, which was a pretty silly thought but at the same time made her feel protected from whatever may come her way.

“Jinnie!” Hoseok sang from the recliner, where he had nestled himself cozily in a throw blanket and an extra pillow. Seokjin cringed next to Y/N, his fingers brushing her arm as he curled them into a fist. Jimin was sitting criss-crossed on the couch close to Hoseok, a glass of iced tea in his hands, an episode of Hell’s Kitchen on the TV.

“Hoseok, I told you I hated that nickname, I’d rather be called cupcake,” Seokjin grit his teeth, looking about ready to throttle the fox hybrid. Y/N snorted at the utter shock registering on Hoseok’s face, a split second from blossoming into hysterics.

“Alright, then, come here, cupcake,” Hoseok managed through fits of laughter, Seokjin fuming as he plopped down on the couch as far away from Hoseok as possible. Jimin was rolling his eyes, turning up the TV a notch to rise above Hoseok’s giggling, scooching over with a soft smile so Y/N could settle down next to him.

Taehyung was left lingering in the doorway, only budging when Y/N patted the open spot between her and Seokjin. As he walked, the hood of his sweatshirt dropped, his hair just matted down enough so his ears were truly visible for the first time. They were positively adorable, rounded and small, and Y/N had to suppress her urge to squeal upon seeing them. Taehyung wiggled in his seat, inching closer to Y/N rather than the grumpy Seokjin muttering under his breath. Jimin smelled delicious next to her, the lavender shampoo she had left in his bathroom for guests coming off of him in tantalizing waves as he raked his hands through his silky honey-colored strands. Getting comfortable, Y/N put her feet up on the ottoman, laughing heartily at Gordon Ramsay calling an unfortunate chef a muppet.

After a couple of hours, Y/N shook out her stiff limbs, suddenly alert after nodding off while watching TV. She had caught her head lolling over onto Jimin’s shoulder, which is what had woken her up, drowsily murmuring an apology with a pat on the back of his hand as she righted herself. Jimin simply smiled softly, his posture adjusted towards her body, telling her she likely was taking a cat nap on his shoulder all this time. Flushing scarlet, she looked around the room, noticing Hoseok had also fallen asleep on the recliner, his lips parted slightly, ears drooped against his head and blanket pulled up to his chin. Taehyung had gone, judging by the way Seokjin had stretched out his legs over the space the Kodiak hybrid had once occupied, the jaguar hybrid still watching Gordon Ramsay roast a team of contestants.

“What time is it? How long was I out? Where’s Taehyung?” Y/N rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. Damn, she hadn’t even thought about her plans for the following morning while she was sitting there, like she intended. Sorry Namjoon, she thought.

“It’s 5 PM, two and a half hours, and he went upstairs shortly after you fell asleep,” Seokjin answered completely, not tearing his eyes away from the television as he spoke. He still looked a little ticked, even though the incident with Hoseok was hours ago, and the fox hybrid was fast asleep. Y/N wanted to go and pinch Hoseok’s rosy little cheeks as he snoozed, looking way too precious for his own good.

“You alright, Jin?” The nickname slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, her drowsiness getting the better of her. Seokjin sat up ramrod straight, ears fluttering furiously as he finally stared her down with a hard-to-read expression. Swallowing thickly, Y/N tried her best not to shrink back into the safety of Jimin’s proximity, painting on nonchalance.

“Uh, I’m fine? Great, I like this show! I’ve never seen it before,” Seokjin floundered, suddenly trying to mask his emotions as best he could. All of that just because she had used his nickname, Y/N noted that for future purposes. Still, she didn’t buy his excuses, because the way his broad shoulders were tensed up, something was obviously still bothering him. She supposed she couldn’t force it out of him if he didn’t want to disclose.

“Miss Y/N, Yoongi came in a while ago. He’s making dinner,” Jimin informed her quietly, his husky voice sending a shiver down her spine. All of these hybrids were completely lethal to her nerves. She was pleasantly surprised, though not without a twinge of guilt that Yoongi was cooking while she slept away on the couch drooling on Jimin’s shoulder. Now that her senses were becoming a bit more sharpened as she came back to the land of the living, she could smell a spicy, herbal, tomato scent in the air. God, she hoped Yoongi was making pasta.

Jimin had switched to whiskey while she was out, and Seokjin had his glass of white wine resting on the coffee table. Shaking her head at the thought of alcohol, she wondered if that was why Hoseok passed out so soundly in his chair, but it seemed there was no drink glass near him. The events of the day must have worn him out – she did make him get up extremely early.

Struggling to her feet, she set off to find Yoongi, assuming Jeongguk was still shut away in his room as Jimin nor Seokjin had mentioned him. Jimin waved her off with a grin, Seokjin ducking his head as she passed by. Man, was he easily flustered.

Following the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, she was nearly blinded by all of the lights Yoongi had turned up, compared to the dimness of the parlor she had come from. He was by the stove, his hair tied back with what looked like a rubber band that came from a bundle of vegetables, stirring a large stockpot serenely. He even had a glass of red wine on the island as he worked, and used dishes soaking in soapy water in the sink. Impressed, Y/N skipped into the kitchen, his spotted ears swiveling in her direction, but his face remained trained on the pot he was stirring.

“Hi, Yoongi!” Y/N greeted, seeking out a glass of water for her dry throat. Reaching by his head for the cabinet containing the glassware, she peeked into one of the pots he had going, a decadent looking tomato sauce simmering away.

“Good morning, sleep well?” Yoongi replied, setting down the slotted spoon he was using to stir spaghetti on the spoon rest. Cringing at the vaguely suspicious look on Yoongi’s face, she figured he must have caught her napping on Jimin. How embarrassing.

“I had no idea I was even going to doze off, I swear. The amount of caffeine I drank today was enough to choke a horse,” Y/N raised her hands in defense, Yoongi’s carefully constructed disapproval crumbling into minor amusement. Going back to stirring the pot of pasta, Yoongi used his other hand to bring a sip of wine to his lips, eyes narrowing at the fettuccine dancing in the boiling water.

Pouring herself some water from the dispenser on the fridge door, Y/N hoisted herself up on the countertop beside the stove, studiously watching Yoongi cook. He simply lifted a brow at her as she drank her water and occasionally sniffed the air, detecting something else that was being cooked. It was a few moments before she realized the oven was on, as she was peering at the floor and swinging her legs happily.

“What else are you making?” She couldn’t stop her query, excited that the kitchen was getting some use after all that time after the renovations her and Roy had worked so hard to complete. Yoongi hummed, hefting the pot of pasta over to the sink to drain it with her flowery pot holders, his tail flicking like an agitated cat. She hoped she wasn’t bothering him.

“I roasted some veggies on a sheet pan, put them in the oven. Chicken, too, with some of those herbs in the fridge,” Yoongi returned the pot to the stove, lobbing a giant hunk of butter into the mound of pasta. Mouth watering, she couldn’t believe he had done so much while she snoozed away, and the guilt from earlier returned tenfold.

“Wow, Yoongi, thank you so much for cooking… lunch, too,” Y/N murmured sheepishly, ashamed that he was picking up slack already in the meal department, mere hours into coming to the house.

“I like to cook,” Yoongi started after a beat of silence burning a hole into the side of her face with his feline stare, putting a lid on his simmering sauce. “It’s relaxing, brings me peace. You don’t have to feel guilty about me taking it upon myself to do something I enjoy.”

Snapping her head up to lock eyes with him, she wondered how he could possibly read the emotions flooding though her, squirming in her spot on the counter as he dissected her with his eyes.

“H-how–?”

“Silly girl. Don’t you know hybrids can pick up on scents better than humans? We can smell your shifts in moods, what they are,” Yoongi turned his back on her, tossing a bowl of salad with a pair of tongs Y/N hadn’t seen before. Dread flooded through her, because no, she did not know that. “I guess you’ve got some research to do.”

Y/N gripped the lip of the granite countertop with panic, realizing the hybrids had been able to smell her vastly extreme range of emotions all this time. Her embarrassment, her fluster, the annoyance, even the frustration was all perfectly legible to them; and there was no way for her to mask it at all. Even with dropping this bombshell on her, Yoongi appeared as though he had said nothing out of the ordinary, apparently ignoring her distress on the countertop as he dressed the salad. He could smell it, anyways.

“Uh, is there anything else I should know right away? Can you read my mind?” Y/N squeaked, Yoongi’s ears dropping flat to his skull as he shot her an unimpressed grimace.

“Who do you think I am, Edward Cullen? No, we can’t read minds,” Yoongi grumbled, although there was a twinkle in his eye that exposed the mirth towards her reactions. “We have better hearing than humans, too. Heart rates, breathing, whispers that you thought we didn’t catch– we can. There’s the scenting, too–”

“Yoongi? Did you make chicken?” Seokjin interrupted, bounding into the kitchen with his empty wine glass. Reeling, Y/N processed all of the new information Yoongi had offered her; the fact they could hear every time her heart skipped a beat, and “scenting”? What on earth was that?

Yoongi shooed Seokjin over to a barstool, claiming that he was “in the way”, although Y/N was seated right in front of the spice cabinet he had to squeak his hand by every so often while she was sitting there. Seokjin smiled at her widely, his cheeks bunching up roundly as he did so. Y/N could only weakly return the action, turning over hundreds of burning questions in her mind distractedly.

“Foxy up yet? It’s almost time to eat, I could use some extra hands to bring everything outside to eat,” Yoongi leaned across the island, filling Seokjin’s empty wine glass with the red he had been drinking. Y/N sprung into action, eager to not look like Yoongi had pulled a carpet from under her feet. Easing herself off the counter, she willed her heart beat to stay steady as she slinked towards the hallway. Seokjin opened his mouth to say something, watching her try to escape the room, but she halted him by speaking first.

“I’ll round everyone up,” Y/N offered, nearly smacking headfirst into Jimin as he entered the kitchen. So much for keeping that heart rate down, Jimin grinning at her like the cat who ate the canary. Shaking her head, she hurried by him, feeling his yellow eyes on her long after she made it to the parlor where Hoseok was.

Tiptoeing to the recliner, Y/N turned off the TV, cooing softly at Hoseok curled up with the throw blanket. His face was so serene, it felt wrong to have to poke him awake, one of his ears twitching slightly as she got close.

“Hoseok?” Y/N whisper-shouted, not wanting to startle him awake. His nose and ears twitched simultaneously, but all he did was pull the blanket closer around his body with a curled fist in the knitted material. Snorting softly, Y/N leaned across his body, tentatively placing her hand on his shoulder and shook. “Hoseok!” She murmured with more volume, squeezing his shoulder.

All at once, his eyes snapped open, his hand shooting out from under the blanket to wrap around her wrist with alarm. Y/N realized just how close her face was to his, able to detect the flecks of gold in his irises, swallowing thickly as his nails dug into the flesh of her sensitive wrist harshly. Wincing, she found herself unable to free herself, stuck hovering over him with her heart hammering around in her ribcage.

As soon as he realized it was her, Hoseok’s eyes widened with disbelief, immediately releasing her wrist with shock. Bringing the sore skin to her chest, she rubbed the crescent-shaped marks with her other hand dazedly. Hoseok scrambled out of the chair, cursing and spewing earnest apologies so quickly Y/N could hardly understand them. She wasn’t frightened by his reaction to being woken up; she couldn’t even imagine some of the ways it could have happened to him in the past– but she was admittedly a little startled at the sheer strength he held in his hand alone. Y/N could hardly move under the vice.

“Shit, shit. I’m so sorry, let me see,” Hoseok held out his hand, eyebrows pinched in concern. Y/N slowly lowered her wrist into his outstretched palm, trying to avoid making him feel worse than he already was. Hoseok sucked in a breath, his fingers curling over her arm and turning it over to grimace at the marks he had left on her, his other hand coming up to brush his fingertips softly over skin erupting in goosebumps at his tender touch.

“I’m okay, Hoseok, It’s my bad for startling you,” Y/N assured softly, his thumb rubbing slowly over the deepest well his middle fingernail had created. Her words did little to melt the guilt festering over his fine features, corners of his mouth turned down in distress. He hadn’t even broken skin, for crying out loud.

“You didn’t… fuck. Seokjin won’t like this,” Hoseok muttered to himself, passing his fingers over her wrist one more time before removing his hands to pull them through his mussed hair. Y/N wasn’t sure what he meant by bringing Seokjin into the situation, but decided to let it go.

“Hey, no harm, no foul! I’m fine. Dinner’s almost ready, that’s why I came to wake you. I should probably grab Taehyung and Jeongguk from upstairs, too,” Y/N nodded towards the kitchen, prompting Hoseok to trudge behind her, tail literally between his legs.

“Let me go get them,” Hoseok pleaded, the apologetic droop in his eyes almost too much to bear.

“Sure, thank you, Hoseok,” Y/N smiled encouragingly, holding his eyes just long enough for him to hang his head briefly and dash up the stairs. By the time he had disappeared up the landing, so too, the marks on her wrist faded significantly. Poor Hoseok, she thought, making her way back to the kitchen.

Shaking off her scattered nerves, she made her way back to the kitchen, Yoongi pulling the tray of chicken and vegetables out of the oven with a grunt. His hair was tumbling out of the flimsy hold the rubber band offered, getting in his eyes as he set the hot pan on the stove. Seokjin appeared to be outside setting the table, his pastel shirt visible by the large willow tree over the dining table. Jimin was with him, two bottles of wine in his arms while he poured several generous glasses for the table. If there was one thing for sure, the hybrids liked to drink.

“What can I take, Yoongi?” Y/N hid her arm behind her back, not chancing the leopard hybrid spotting anything amiss with her. He was poking the chicken with an extended index finger to check the doneness fastidiously, and Y/N thought to herself all he was missing was a cute apron.

“Here, you can take the salad out,” Yoongi approached her after ditching a dish towel he was using to wipe his hands clean, salad bowl in hands. Taking it carefully, she inspected the greens dressed with sliced citrus and shaved parmesan. She couldn’t have made something as elegant in her recent frazzled haze if she tried.

“This looks so good,” she mumbled, mouth watering as she peeked around his shoulder at the sizzling chicken on the cookie sheet. Yoongi smiled slightly, his teeth peeking out adorably, leading her to the door to the patio with a guiding hand hovering over her mid-back. She could feel the warmth of his palm through her shirt even though he wasn’t touching her, grateful for the cooling evening air rushing into her lungs as he urged her outdoors. He assured her he’d be right out, leaving the door open to retrieve the chicken.

Y/N trudged through the overgrown grass with the salad, hoping Hoseok wasn’t still beating himself up. By now, the marks on her wrist were gone, and it truly was an involuntary reaction he had to being woken up. At the table, Jimin was still filling a glass with a hearty pour of Cabernet, a covered casserole dish with the saucy pasta sitting at the center of the table next to a basket of bread rolls and a dish of butter. Yoongi had gone all out.

“Hi guys, I brought the salad,” Y/N plopped down at one of the center seats, noting that Seokjin and Taehyung would likely be flanking her either side. She slid the bowl next to the pasta, grinning as Jimin offered her one of the glasses of wine. Y/N felt the wine coat her throat like liquid velvet, trying to avoid smirking at Seokjin immediately scooting onto the bench next to her.

“Yoongi told me he liked to cook, but I didn’t expect this,” Jimin made himself comfortable across from Y/N, sounding deeply impressed at the spread of food in front of him. Nodding in agreement, Seokjin leaned back on the bench on his palms with his eyes closed, trying to catch rays of the orange sunset on his face.

“Did you get Hoseok up? He can be pretty grouchy when he wakes up,” Seokjin mused, eyes still closed as he sucked in a deep breath pleasantly. Y/N didn’t feel the need to solidify the truth in that comment by relaying the earlier sequence of events.

“Mm-hmm. He’s getting Taehyung and Jeongguk,” Y/N confirmed, expertly disguising her glazing-over of facts with another sip of wine. Speaking of the devil, Hoseok had found his way outside, Taehyung close behind.

“Wow, Yoongi made all this?” Hoseok exclaimed, all evidence of anything amiss with him completely unreadable on his face. Damn, he was good, Y/N thought to herself, as he shot her and Seokjin a cheeky grin. She didn’t miss, however, the way his eyes swept over the skin of her wrist, exposed as she was toying with the stem of her wine glass. The tiny crease between his eyebrows Y/N picked up on disappeared once he realized the marks were gone.

“Out of the way, Jeongguk,” Y/N heard Yoongi shout from across the yard, the elk hybrid appearing to be blocking the way to the table with his leisurely strides. Yoongi stepped around the taller hybrid, making haste for the table with the pan he was holding. As expected, Taehyung slid into the empty spot on her other side, eagerly grasping his filled wine glass.

Everyone settled in pretty quickly, praises for Yoongi’s hard work coming from every direction as they tucked into the meal. Seokjin piled spaghetti on Y/N’s plate for her, reminiscent of her mother filling his plate for him earlier in the day, the memory filling her with warmth. The food was absolutely delicious; down to the pasta sauce Yoongi had admitted was from scratch as well. Y/N inquired about how he had learned to cook so well, his answer being working on the line at the bar and watching the cooking channel on his days off.

“What else did you do at the bar, Yoongi?” Hoseok asked, taking a deep sip from his wine glass, a blush settling over his cheeks. He had avoided eye contact with Y/N for much of the dinner, Y/N distracting herself by lowly speaking to Taehyung beside her about their trip to the record store the next day.

“I told you, I pretty much did everything. I worked on the line making food for a bit, did some bartending. For a while, I helped out with security, bookkeeping… I played piano often during the weekend,” Yoongi pierced a slice of grapefruit from his salad with a fork, pushing it around his plate.

“Oh, a piano bar? How fancy,” Hoseok remarked, nudging the leopard hybrid with his elbow. Yoongi looked peeved, inching closer to Jimin, who was minding his business by munching on a buttered roll.

“Y/N said she’s going to take us to an ice cream shop tomorrow,” Seokjin announced proudly, chest puffing out in excitement. Jimin and Hoseok brightened significantly, Y/N remembering how much they had enjoyed the ice cream bars from their lunch yesterday. Jimin voiced his approval of the plan, smiling fondly at Y/N in a way that made her melt a little in her seat.

“Oh boy, like we’re twelve?” Jeongguk suddenly quipped, filling his wine glass up while rolling his eyes dramatically. Frowning, Y/N began to feel insecure– maybe she was treating them a little childishly.

“Will you just shut up? Why complain when you could just be quiet?” Yoongi barked, fed up with the younger hybrid’s never-ending bitching. Besides, it was uncomfortable to watch the shadow of doubt cross over Y/N’s face, her excitement turning to worry at the drop of a hat.

“Shut up? Maybe you guys are twelve, seriously. I can’t stand it,” Jeongguk shook his head in disgust, pushing his plate of half-eaten food away from him. Hoseok looked positively livid, staring at the elk hybrid so intensely that it made Y/N shiver. Jimin, similarly, had his jaw set in annoyance, however he held his tongue.

“The rest of you might be okay with being nothing more than a domesticated pet, but I’ve had just about all I can stand for today,” Jeongguk rose from his seat and tossed his napkin on his plate, his words hitting Y/N like he had thrown knives at her, visibly flinching into Taehyung’s shoulder.

Yoongi calmly got up from his seat, harshly catching Jeongguk’s wrist as he began to storm into the house. While Yoongi was slight, he must have had considerable strength in his grip, yanking Jeongguk to a halt as the leopard hybrid’s lip curled back.

“You know, you could be a lot worse off right now, elk. You have a lot to be grateful for right now. You have clothes on your back, food to eat, a roof over your head– and most importantly, someone who gives a shit if you’re living and breathing,” Yoongi spat, each word enunciated clearly through his teeth. Hoseok was gripping his fork so tightly it looked like his knuckles were about to come through his skin. Jeongguk yanked his wrist from Yoongi’s grasp with a repulsed expression, stalking into the house with an agitated stride. Y/N flinched again as he slammed the glass door into the house, half expecting it to shatter from the impact.

“He’s such a prick,” Hoseok ground out, appetite vanishing as he read the sadness enveloping Y/N like a heavy shroud. Yoongi returned to his seat, draining his wine glass with measured movements. The scent of guilt was thick in the air, and it made him feel ill.

“Don’t listen to him, Miss Y/N. He’s young, jaded. It doesn’t make what he said right, though,” Jimin rushed to comfort her, hating the way Jeongguk had ruined a perfectly good meal with his thoughtless words. Y/N offered a weak smile, her lips shaking at the corners. To be honest, she felt like crying, but she wasn’t about to break down into tears in front of them.

Seokjin had stayed silent during the entire altercation, but Y/N could see in her peripherals how stiff his posture had grown. He was gripping the bench so hard, his fingernails were scraping wood shavings from the seat.

“It’s alright, Jimin. Um, I’m gonna clean up the kitchen, put away the leftovers… again, thank you for the food Yoongi. It was delicious,” Y/N managed, trying to keep her voice steady, collecting the bowl of pasta, her plate, and Jeongguk’s abandoned setting to dash into the house.

She knew she had to flee before the first tear fell, harshly scrubbing the plates with a sponge while she used her shirtsleeve to hastily wipe away a pathetic tear rolling down her cheek. Y/N was more upset that Jeongguk was under the impression that she intended to reduce them to pets, rather than the fact that he had said it out loud in front of everyone else. Humiliated, she didn’t know how to face the others, let alone go through with the plans for tomorrow’s outing now that what he had said wormed its way into her brain, convincing her she was treating the hybrids frivolously.

Watching red sauce from the pot Yoongi used swirl down the drain, she was thankful the tears had stopped as quickly as they came, anxiety over the hybrids walking into her weeping over the sink preventing any more drops from spilling over her lash line. Part of her wanted to peek at the slider to check if they were on their way in, but she was too afraid she would come face-to-face with Jimin’s sympathetic expression or Hoseok’s barely-contained anger. Sniffling, she dried her hands off, quickly wiping down the counter and stuffing the leftovers into the fridge. She knew it would be polite to go back outside and tough it out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. A few moments to collect herself was in order.

In her bedroom, she sighed deeply, head pounding from everything that had occurred that day. She’d abused her body by drinking so much coffee, not getting enough sleep, and running around like a crazy person for days. Numbly, she pulled pajamas out of her dresser, leaving them on her bed and making her way to the shower. Being rained on earlier made her feel sticky and her hair smelled of earth, and a hot shower would be nice to drown her sorrows for a bit.

Steam filled the bathroom as Y/N stripped down, tossing her raggedy clothing into the hamper with a little more force than necessary. She had dealt with many men like Jeongguk before; quick to anger seemingly from nowhere, rude, and reactionary. Normally, she wouldn’t take anything a man like that would say seriously, in fact, she’d often give their acidity right back. Never before had they affected her the way Jeongguk did, every icy word cutting her deep. In a way, it made her want to try harder to prove him wrong, that she simply wanted to share a nice life together, not treat them as pets. It would be hard to do, considering how much he already disliked her and his current situation.

She boiled her skin in the shower, using a calming shampoo to make herself feel better. The water was scalding, but she still felt a cold draft coming through the shower door. Frowning, she turned the water up even higher, promising herself to take a screwdriver to her bathroom window tomorrow and fix the draft problem.

As she rinsed her hair, Y/N’s eyes shot open as she heard a thud from above her, making her frown. Seems Jeongguk was out on his balcony for another smoke break. She felt a touch guilty for buying them for him, considering the intensity of his habit so far, but she was too pissed at him to care enough at that moment.

Turning the shower off after the remainder of the chamomile body wash suds were rinsed from her skin, Y/N wrapped her body in a thick towel, cursing at the frigid temperature of the bathroom. She didn’t remember it being so cold when she had come in to start the shower, and the temperature of the steam should have heated the room significantly. Pulling the towel closer around her body, she could have sworn she could see her breath in front of her, but blew it off as being completely ridiculous and impossible. Moving to the skin vanity, she reached into the mirror cabinet to retrieve her lotion, mumbling under her breath as goosebumps rose on her arms. The room was deathly quiet, not even the crickets outside that usually kept her awake were chirping.

Shutting the mirror cabinet distractedly, Y/N set her lotion down, moving to comb her hair, her eyes catching a shape behind her in the mirror. Looking more closely in the fogged-up mirror, she realized it was her, from her childhood, the old woman. Comb clattering to the floor, Y/N shrieked involuntarily, the ghostly sight of the creepy elderly woman scaring her out of her wits. She hadn’t seen her since she was a girl, and had no idea why she had made her presence known. Shaking, she turned around, feeling sick to her stomach, but all at once the apparition was gone.

Screaming again at the sound of her bathroom door being blasted open, Y/N fell to the floor, clutching her towel so closely to her she thought she’d lose circulation. Seokjin and Taehyung barreled into the room, Seokjin’s eyes blown out in concern as he saw her cowering on the floor. Taehyung’s chest was heaving, head turning in every direction to scope out the bathroom for the source of her fright.

“What happened?! Are you alright?” Seokjin exclaimed with urgency, kneeling down to collect one of her hands quivering on the floor to brace herself. She was absolutely not alright, the old hag who followed her around the yard as a kid was back, this time inside her house. But there was no way to express this to the jaguar hybrid, smoothing a thumb over the back of her hand with a deep crease of worry etched in his brow. To do so would risk him calling her crazy.

Taehyung had made a lap around the bathroom, opening up the closet to the towels to check for any intruders, hands on his hips as he came up with nothing.

“I-I… um,” Y/N stuttered, heart threatening to break free from its cage, “I s-saw a spider, huge one. Crawled into the sink drain,” she lied, hoping her anxiety would cover up the absence of the truth. There was no way she was telling them about the hag just yet, especially since they had barely just arrived. A new anxiety was crawling down her spine: she was simply in a towel, and she tried as best she could to stay covered up in front of the two men in her bathroom.

“A spider?” Seokjin confirmed softly, gently helping her to her feet and never averting her eyes from her face. Nodding, she glanced at Taehyung, who was cocking his head at her inquisitively, eyes on her damp hair. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.

“Sorry I worried you guys,” Y/N mumbled, feeling humiliated that she was standing like a drowned rat in front of them, lying to their faces. What would she do if they saw the ghost as well?

Seokjin shook his head, guiding her out into her bedroom. To her surprise, the rest of the hybrids, including Jeongguk, were standing in her bedroom, various expressions of concern across their faces. Jeongguk was close to the door with his eyes narrowed at the window looking out to the yard, and upon seeing that Y/N was unharmed, he nodded and disappeared from the room. Feeling more exposed than ever in the damp towel, Y/N wasn’t sure how to usher everybody out as quickly as possible. Clearly, the remaining hybrids needed extra reassurance that she was alright.

“I’m sorry, guys. I’m okay, just got spooked by a spider,” Y/N explained, Jimin brushing a finger over his lip as he considered her excuse. Half of the room seemed not to buy it, Hoseok frowning as he gripped her bedpost, Yoongi’s eyes roaming over her skin. She chalked it up to him checking for injuries, but the weight of his gaze made heat rise up her throat in embarrassment.

“We thought there was someone who broke in, or you fell, so I guess a spider is a lot better than those two fates,” Jimin replied, politely staring at the floor while he spoke. Y/N didn’t think he was used to seeing a woman in such a state of undress, his cheeks pink.

“Come on, everyone, let’s give her some privacy so she can get dressed,” Taehyung suddenly spoke, shocking everyone in the room as he waved his hand to coax everyone out. Y/N didn’t really want to be left alone in the room, but she had to get out of the damp towel before she caught a cold.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seokjin asked her once more, as the others filed out of her room. Y/N could definitely tell he did not buy her spider cover-up, but he was too kind to say otherwise. Placing a hand on his bicep, Y/N gave him her best encouraging smile.

“Yeah, thank you, Seokjin. It’s nice to have people here to check up on me,” she answered truthfully, feeling a whole lot safer now in the home than she ever did as a child with her grandparents. Seokjin smiled at her, telling her to come out and watch TV with them when she was done.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Y/N shakily got dressed, eager to get out of her bedroom for a bit and be around some living people before bed. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to sleep that night, all she knew is she definitely had to do some protective magic in the days to come. With a house that size, it would take her a long time, but it was worth it if she could banish the spirit that had been bothering her all day. As soon as she pulled her pajama top over her head, she set off to the parlor to the hybrids waiting for her.

Y/N wasn’t sure how she had fallen asleep in her room that night, but thanks to watching several episodes of Twin Peaks late into the night, she had no problem sinking into the mattress and knocking out, regardless of the possibility of a ghost hovering over her while she snored into her pillow. Her alarm shocked her out of her sleep in the morning, her wake-up call to go pick up Namjoon, potentially. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she resolved to tackle all of her obstacles today with positivity.

She hadn’t asked any of the others if they had wanted to join her to the shelter that morning. For some reason, she felt it would be best to attempt to bring Namjoon home by herself, perhaps he was wary of the others, and she needed to stop by the library to speak with her mother afterwards anyways. Before bed, she texted her mother about getting her some of her black salt for the protection magic, to which her mother sent her a vague reply about retrieving some from her while she was at the book club the following morning. To Y/N’s relief, her mother didn’t push the subject of Y/N beginning to pick up her spiritual practices again. Y/N had a suspicion her mother knew a little bit more about her current situation than she was letting on.

Y/N threw on a knitted sweater and an old plaid skirt she had gotten from her cousin, pulling on a thick pair of tights to combat the chill of the morning. She wanted to look more presentable than she had the past few days, hoping it would stave off any more concerned looks from not only her hybrids but also her mother, who would definitely comment on the perpetual nervous smile on her face. She had to get rid of that ghost today.

Turning on the coffee pot in the kitchen, Y/N yawned as she listened for any movement in the house. She couldn’t hear anything, however, it was quite early and they had gone to bed pretty late. Y/N was beginning to think some of the hybrids, like Hoseok and Yoongi, were nocturnal in nature. Filling her to-go container with the hot coffee, Y/N hesitated before pulling out a second cup, filling that one as well. If Namjoon came with her, the least she could do was bring him something to warm his belly. Upon further consideration, she put a couple of protein granola bars and a ripe apple into her bag for him as well. She was crossing all of her fingers that he’d be willing to leave the shelter that morning.

She wrote a little note to the hybrids letting them know her whereabouts and stuck it to the fridge, confident they would be able to scrounge up their own breakfasts especially with Yoongi there. The draftiness of the house made her shiver, pulling a cozy beret over her head as she loitered by the front door. Autumn seemed to be rolling in quicker than normal, and she worried about reinforcing all of the windows and doors in the house before the winter months as she made her way to her car.

The drive into Boston had her squirming in her seat. If Namjoon was anything like Jeongguk, she was in trouble. She’d prefer if he was closer to Taehyung’s version of “strange”, as the other hybrids had coined him, but honestly she didn’t know what to expect at all. The weather that morning was clear of rain, the sky a light gray and the scent of briny ocean on the highway filtered through her windows. It was a lovely day for walking around, no humidity, and pleasantly cool. Getting over the fiasco of last night’s dinner, Y/N resolved to go ahead with her plans to take everyone out for a day in the town, even if that meant leaving Jeongguk at home to smoke himself into oblivion in the backyard. While the rest of them were watching TV after her encounter with the spirit, Jeongguk had spent at least an hour on the grounds, nose buried in his notebook. More than ever, Y/N itched to see what was in that notebook of his.

Traffic was light and Y/N got to the shelter as soon as it opened. Gerry wasn’t there, as she pushed open the glass door; she assumed it was his son, a younger, still gray-looking man in his thirties. Brushing a stray yellow leaf from her sweater, Y/N approached the man counting the register, squinting through the darkness as there was only half of the fluorescent lights turned on in the shop. The man looked up at her when she tapped her fingers on the tin desk, somewhat set at ease she didn’t have to see Gerry’s stupid face for the third morning in a row.

“Are you Y/N? Here to pick up Namjoon?” The man peered at her over his rectangular glasses, closing the register discreetly.

“Yes, sir,” Y/N nodded, surprised that he had referred to Namjoon by name. His nametag read Robert.

“You can go ahead and get him. I think he’s ready to leave now, after I convinced him last night. My old man’s tired of getting snapped at with those teeth of his, and he came down with a cold last night. Wanted him out of here by the time he came back,” Robert explained, handing her the keys to the cells during his speech. Simultaneously enthralled by Robert’s persuasion skills and disgusted with Gerry’s impatience, Y/N started towards the back room without a word.

She fidgeted with her skirt as she went, nervous now that she knew Namjoon had shifted for sure. At last, she might be able to have a two-sided conversation with the wolf hybrid who caught her eye the most that night she discovered all the hybrids. The heavy metal door was left ajar, Y/N shouldering into the room with a huff to steel herself. Immediately, she headed towards the last remaining occupied cell, eager to get a look at Namjoon.

He was seated on the edge of his bed, staring straight at her. And of course, like the others, he was absolutely gorgeous. Eyes warm like a thick amber honey, golden skin beneath his green tee shirt, and shining silvery hair swept off his forehead as if he was running his hands through it all morning. Upon making eye contact with her, his eyes narrowed, full lips pursing as he sucked in his cheeks thoughtfully.

“Good morning,” was all Y/N was able to manage lamely, wrapping her hands around the bars of his cell. He was a large man, even seated, his mass was intimidating– and even shifted, he held all the danger in his eyes of his cautious wolf form. Namjoon stood, walking towards her, his height towering over her as he assessed her attitude, hopefully reading cheerful and friendly from what Y/N was trying to put off.

“You didn’t bring any back-up today? Not even the fox?” Namjoon’s voice was deep, melodic, the authority dripping from his tone enough to make her want to take a step backwards. She refrained from doing so, in order to stand her ground.

“Back-up? No, no one came with me today. We stayed up late watching TV, I wanted everyone to get some proper rest,” Y/N laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. Namjoon didn’t crack, lifting an eyebrow as he appeared to consider her answer.

“Are you ready to come back with me today?” She asked after a few moments, unable to break free from his gaze. Something about his eyes was so familiar, and looking away felt impossible.

“Do I have much of a choice? Robert said they’re going to stop feeding me,” Namjoon grumbled, the ear that had a piece missing fluttering just so. He shifted from one foot to another, eyeing the key ring in her hand. Y/N hastily unlocked his cell door, eager to free him.

“Not that they were feeding you much, anyways, the bastards. One of the others told me you only got ham sandwiches twice a day,” Y/N fumed, pulling his door open with great effort. The iron bars were incredibly rusted and heavy, and Y/N was relieved she never had to set foot in the disgusting shelter again after Namjoon and herself got in the car.

To this, Namjoon didn’t reply. He took a step out into the open room, a little shaky in his stride, like he hadn’t walked on two legs in weeks. It took him a few moments to stretch his legs out, gritting his teeth in annoyance. His incisors were particularly sharp, Y/N noted, and she couldn’t decide if that was cute or concerning.

“Let’s go,” he grunted finally, after reaching the door to the hallway with more stability. She moved before her mind could catch up, following him briskly down the hall. So far, so good.

When they reached the front of the store, Robert caught up with the two of them, giving Namjoon a slight nod. He handed Y/N a thick manila envelope, to which she accepted with puzzlement.

“These are the official adoption papers, I fetched them from the State House myself instead of sending them through the mail. Pleasure doing business with you,” Robert shook her limp hand, Y/N startled by the word “business”. However, she was pleased to have the official documents right away, thoughts turning to the database where she could look up the hybrid’s pasts. Namjoon scoffed from behind her, impatiently tapping his foot.

“Thank you,” Y/N painted a fake smile on her face, finally ridding herself of the forsaken shelter as she led Namjoon out to her Land Cruiser. Namjoon slowly got into the passenger seat, staring at Y/N as she started the engine and straightened out her hat.

“Here, Namjoon, I brought you some coffee. I have some granola bars and an apple in my bag, too, if you’re hungry,” Y/N held out the to-go cup that wasn’t smudged with berry lip gloss, adjusting her rearview mirror with her other hand nervously. Namjoon’s stare was much more unnerving than gentle Jimin’s, whose gaze was soft around the edges, while Namjoon’s was probing and steely.

“Hmm… thanks,” Namjoon muttered, breaking free from eye contact as he accepted the coffee with both hands. Bringing it to his lips, it was Y/N’s turn to stare at him as he took in the street surroundings. Namjoon was truly beautiful– devastatingly so. His hair was like starlight, and his side profile was stunning.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I have to make a short stop before we go home,” Y/N pulled out into the street, navigation to the library playing out in her mind. Traffic was still light for a Monday morning, so she’d get there in no time at all.

“Do whatever you have to do,” Namjoon replied easily, fidgeting in his seat. He opened the glove box, immediately diving into the CDs to Y/N’s great surprise. “Have any tapes?”

“Tapes?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. It was rare to have anyone these days to even know how to operate a tape, but she could have sworn that her dad had left a tape or two in the glovebox. The Land Cruiser did, in fact, have a tape player as well.

“You have a Rolling Stones tape,” Namjoon relayed matter-of-factly, Y/N cringing. The thing probably had hair on it with age. With practiced ease, Namjoon carefully popped the tape into the player and rewound it.

“Wow, I’ve never met someone who knows how to play tapes under the age of 50,” Y/N joked, internally scolding herself as soon as the words left her mouth. She had to remember not everyone was Hoseok.

“I like them, they have a unique sound. You can hear what time does to the tape,” Namjoon said simply, thankfully not taking offense to her joke. Typically, old tapes hiss and fade with age, and she had never considered it as a charm before.

With an elegant index finger, Namjoon pressed play, the tinny sound of the tape pressing through the speakers instantly. Similarly, Namjoon began to relax, sitting back in his seat and taking another sip of his coffee. Unfortunately, Y/N already found it impossible to relax around him.

They enjoyed three songs on the tape until Y/N pulled up by the library, throwing the vehicle in park. She was planning on letting Namjoon stay in the car, but he was checking his surroundings in disbelief, already unbuckling himself to get out.

“I know somebody in here,” Namjoon stated, an interesting edge to his voice. He almost sounded fond. Perhaps Namjoon was a Boston native, but his accent was closer to Jimin’s rather than Yoongi’s. Cocking her head, she hurriedly got out of the car to follow Namjoon rushing into the library. He was pretty fast, all of a sudden, busting through the front doors.

“Crap,” Y/N muttered, losing Namjoon immediately in the labyrinth of the bookshelves. Dreading having to go find someone to call for him over the intercom system, Y/N thought her best bet was seeking out her mother. Trying not to panic, she remembered that her mother had told her to meet her at the reference desk rather than the book club room, before the meet started. That’s where she’d have to go for Namjoon’s bat signal, anyways. Making a wide circle around some hungover-looking college students, Y/N speed walked to the reference desk, spotting her mother’s mustard yellow shawl of the day.

“Mom!” Y/N exclaimed desperately, her mother scanning a returned book and dropping it in surprise.

“Honey! You’re early! Here, I’ve got your salt,” her mother pulled a large mason jar of black salt out of her patchwork satchel, handing it over gingerly. Taking it impatiently, not caring at the moment that a young couple standing by the desk was staring at the two of them with confusion, Y/N tucked it into her bag, crushing one of the granola bars.

“Mom, I need you to call a name over the intercom. The hybrid I picked up this morning disappeared as soon as we got in here,” Y/N breathed, worried sick that Namjoon might already be halfway to Fenway Park.

“Oh, Christ, honey, I can do that. What’s his name?” Her mother grabbed the mic to the system, frowning with worry. Before Y/N could say anything, her mother looked past her, face splitting into utter shock and recognition. Turning urgently, Y/N spotted him just behind her.

“Namjoon? Where have you been?” Her mother gasped, blood draining from Y/N’s face.

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svndaysaweek · 8 months ago

Text

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”