#religious sweatshirt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spookyserenades · 1 year

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Six

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; 20.9k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Happy June my darlings! This is an update I've been eager to share with you all for quite some time, and there's a lot that goes on in it. This chapter is tamer in respects to the paranormal, and delves more into interpersonal relationships between the hybrids and Y/N herself. There is indeed another scenting scene in this chapter, which is certainly heated, reader discretion advised! This chapter ends on a critical plot twist and cliffhanger, and I hope you all find it both shocking and entertaining. The taglist is open still (shoot me a message or comment to be added), and as always, I adore hearing back from readers; whether it be questions, reviews, theories, submissions, or gushing over the hybrids together <3 Enjoy, lovelies!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N’s vision only faded to black for mere seconds, feeling like she was floating and the only anchor tethering her to reality were the arms wrapped around her waist. Quivering as she came down from what she could only describe as blissful euphoria, she blinked, eyes focusing on a painting of pink peonies nailed to the wall above Seokjin’s dresser. At once, remembering where she was, she jolted on Seokjin’s warm thighs as he nuzzled his nose against the tender mark he had made, murmuring too quietly for her to make out the words– or was he purring? Y/N’s entire body flushing at her position, straddling the jaguar hybrid’s lap, her arms limply hanging off of his broad shoulders, she squirmed in his arms, his hands fisting in the material of her sweatshirt.

“J-jin?” Y/N breathed, another shiver rolling through her body as Seokjin pressed his face further into the crook of her neck at the sound of his nickname. “Are you alright now?”

Humming in assent against her skin, Seokjin nodded, the damp strands of his blue-black waves tickling her cheek with the movement. Weakly, Y/N chuckled with relief; the image of him curled up on the floor moaning in pain when she returned home frankly scared the wits out of her. Unable to help herself, Y/N reached up to toy with Seokjin’s hair while he exhaled slowly into her neck, her fingers running through the silky waves and carefully avoiding his sensitive ears.

Pulling away from the crook of her neck, Seokjin’s hands dropped from her waist down to her hips lightly, rearing his head back so he could dopily smile at Y/N with his teeth. Overwhelmed by both the action and viewing his gorgeous face from inches away, Y/N swallowed nervously, squeaking when Seokjin squeezed her hips playfully.

“You probably want to shower after your long day out, hmm?” Seokjin mused, cocking his head to the side lazily as he scanned her flustered expression. Biting her lip, she returned his gaze suspiciously.

“Is that you subtly trying to tell me I stink?” Y/N teased, shock settling over Seokjin’s beautiful face.

A growl rumbled from the back of his throat, getting a better hold on her hips as he bent his knees and got to his feet, scooping her up in one graceful moment. Scrambling to get a hold around his muscular neck, Y/N cursed, instinctively hooking her legs around Seokjin’s waist as he began to walk out of his bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye and amongst the overwhelm, she caught her copy of Lord of the Rings laying open on his bed.

“No, you could never stink,” Seokjin insisted, Y/N thankful that he couldn’t see her iron-hot face while he carried her down the stairs. “The water will soothe your marks,” Seokjin continued softly, Y/N not missing the way he had included Namjoon’s bite with his comment.

Thinking of the wolf hybrid sent a strange shock of pain down her spine, Y/N was saddened by the fact that he hadn’t come out of his bedroom to say goodbye to her that morning. She considered the possibility that Namjoon was feeling embarrassed with how he came into her bedroom the previous night, though he had nothing to be bashful about in her book. Even as Seokjin passed by Namjoon’s bedroom door shut-tight, Y/N’s heart sank, somehow knowing he was locked away in there rather than enjoying the last of the sunny afternoon outside.

Once reaching her bedroom, Seokjin gingerly lowered Y/N to her unsteady feet, seemingly reading her conflicted expression. Moving his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, Seokjin offered her a half-smile.

“You’re worried about Namjoon,” Seokjin murmured, his orange eyes flickering to the bruised spot on her neck the wolf hybrid had made, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone comfortingly. Leaning into the touch naturally, Y/N sighed, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come around, don’t worry,” Seokjin encouraged, his voice dulcet as he dropped his hand from her cheek.

Nodding, Y/N perked up a degree, not wanting to make Seokjin uncomfortable with her excess of worry. Perhaps he was right, maybe she was reading too much into Namjoon’s absence– he could have been absorbed in the books and his paranormal theories.

“You’re right, it’s probably best to just leave him be for now,” Y/N agreed, subconsciously brushing her fingers over the wolf hybrid’s bite. To her surprise, the wound was painless, and she was desperate to change the subject under Seokjin’s scrutiny.

“Jesus, it’s already Wednesday evening… I’ve done almost nothing to prepare for the cookout,” she lamented quickly, all at once recalling how her mother had badgered her about place settings earlier in the day.

“We’ll all help out! Yoongi mentioned earlier that he wanted to talk to you about cooking the food, and even Taehyung has expressed some excitement about it out of the blue,” Seokjin grinned, Y/N completely taken aback by how quickly he had recovered from writhing on the floor in pain by simply biting her.

“You guys are Godsends…” Y/N muttered under her breath, thankful that she’d have several pairs of hands to assist her in all of the tasks she had saved to the last minute. “Alright, I’ll wash up and come find you all in a bit. I know you wanted to watch more Masterchef today, so we can do that too.”

Smiling at her fondly at her remembrance, Seokjin nodded once, shyly heading towards her door with his rounded ears fluttering the whole way. Y/N didn’t know where his shyness was coming from all of a sudden, when he had just carried her down the stairs as if she were a sack of flour. Shutting the door behind him, Y/N hurried to the bathroom, steam filling the room as she prodded at both painless marks on her neck.

Snorting at herself in the mirror as she mentally compared them to vampire bites, she thought to do a little more research on the act of scenting itself. At the very least, she could arm herself with information; about potential cues for when hybrids should scent before discomfort, primarily. Thinking back to the stupefying sensation that she felt after each bite, Y/N felt that she should read a forum about that, as well, considering she had no rational explanation as to why that sensation would occur. Stepping into the shower with haste, Y/N scrubbed at her skin harshly, eager to catch up with her hybrids after her day without them.

By Thursday morning, Y/N was hoping that the panic she was experiencing wasn’t registering on her face and filling the room with negative energy. She had a mile-long grocery list after consulting with Yoongi the previous evening about the menu, unable to resist indulging his every whim as he came up with dish ideas. The staircase was still unfinished– Y/N worried it would get scuffed if guests wanted to explore the house and see her newest renovations of the second-floor bedrooms– she had to hit the liquor store for booze and pick out her outfit. Then there was the preparation of the backyard by stacking wood for the fire pit, dragging out chairs to put around it, and cleaning off the picnic table. Additionally, she had to take the hybrids to the mall, forgetting she had scheduled haircuts for them a while back, and she figured they could pick up outfits of their own while they were there.

Stirring her coffee by the slider door in the kitchen, her eyes glazed over as she gazed out at the backyard, wondering why the hell she didn’t move the cookout to the following week after all that had happened recently. Y/N supposed that it was too late to cancel it, Ben already texting her about how eager he was to meet the hybrids in her group chat with him, Laura, and Alice– the other two reacting to his message with emphasized thumbs-ups. The hybrids themselves were practically bouncing off the walls as well, or at least the ones present in the kitchen.

“Yoongi, you’ve been sharpening that knife for five minutes. I think it’s sharp enough now to cut through bone,” Hoseok complained from his seat on the barstool, rubbing his temples as he slumped over his coffee mug, drooped ears and all. Y/N noticed Hoseok wasn’t exactly a morning person over the past few days.

Turning, Y/N watched Yoongi put the knife-sharpening steel down on the granite island, his upper lip curled up in a snarl at the fox hybrid’s comment. She knew Yoongi was secretly anticipating cooking for such a large amount of people; he had even got up early to make several soup stocks in large pots, the herbal concoctions simmering away on the stove. Jeongguk, lounging on the breakfast nook booth, was totally wrapped up in reading something on his phone, his feet kicked up on the seat so no one else could sit with him.

“Yeah? Using a dull knife is a surefire way to A) do more work, and B) slice off a finger,” Yoongi calmly shot back, returning the knife back to the block by the stove.

Hoseok grumbled something Y/N could not hear from her spot by the door, eyeing Jeongguk sideways to see if he was listening to the antics. One of his tapered ears flickered in her direction, though he did not tear his eyes from whatever was holding his attention on his phone. Swirling the remnants of her now-empty mug of coffee, Y/N slouched her way to the carafe, knowing that she’d need to be sufficiently caffeinated to get through her long day.

In the middle of pouring another healthy mug of dark roast, Y/N caught movement from the entrance to the kitchen from the foyer, Taehyung shuffling into the room sleepily in his black hoodie, hands in his pocket and hood pulled over his head, mouth dropped open mid-yawn. Delighted to see him so early, Y/N pulled out an additional mug for the Kodiak hybrid, the one with Sailor Moon on it, filling it generously as Taehyung dragged his feet to her side.

“Morning, Tae,” Y/N greeted gently, the knowledge that he liked the nickname she gave him so much tucked in her back pocket. Nudging her hip with his own, he accepted the mug quickly, adding cream to his coffee with a small smile on his lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Slept well. You?” Taehyung’s sleep-thickened voice struck her like static shock, even while the sleeves of his sweatshirt were slipping over his hands as he sipped his coffee.

“As well as I could, today is pretty packed so I was tossing and turning throughout the night,” Y/N answered truthfully, leaning against the coffee bar as her to-do list haunted her mental space. Humming throatily at her response, Taehyung bent down to face her, trying to get a good look at her face.

“Don’t stress. You have help,” Taehyung replied simply, sending her a wink. Blushing, Y/N nodded, noting how often Taehyung seemed to get in her face these days.

After a drawn-out breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Jimin and Seokjin joining her and the others in the kitchen eventually, Y/N waited by the front door for everyone to get ready to head to the mall. Her spirits were somewhat dampened, considering she had only caught glimpses of Namjoon the previous night sneaking into the kitchen for a package of chips and a water refill, wondering if he’d even bother coming along with her to the mall. Part of her wanted to march into his locked-up bedroom and demand to know what was going on with him, but the larger part of her was still very much intimidated by the wolf hybrid. The longer the stretch of time went on since he had scented her, the more awkward she felt about confronting him again. Still, she ached to see his face, to hear his deep, rich voice responding to her inquiries.

It was another sunny day, the skylight bathing the foyer with dusty sunshine. The house was pretty warm, and Y/N remembered she could turn on the new A/C units since they had been installed the day she picked Namjoon up from the shelter, so she did so promptly to keep her hands busy as they all idled by the door. Adjusting her thin tee shirt uncomfortably, she scanned the grocery list in her other hand as she listened to Hoseok and Seokjin bicker by the stairs.

“Jinnie, you’ve barely put a dent in that book even though you’ve been carrying it around everywhere. Are you trying to pick up girls at the mall?” Hoseok teased, staring pointedly at the copy of Lord of the Rings tucked under Seokjin’s arm.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seokjin spit through his teeth, using his free hand to punch the fox hybrid on the bicep with enough force to send Hoseok stumbling back a step. “I told you to stop calling me ‘Jinnie’, are you becoming hard of hearing?”

Jimin, from beside her, rolled his eyes so hard Y/N was worried they would fall out of his skull, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive by the door so they could leave. Taehyung, too, was leaning against the door with a bored look painted across his features, unimpressed by the noise coming from the two across the room. Jeongguk stomped down the stairs with a heavy tread, eyes still glued to his phone and almost missing the last step before catching himself on the wobbly banister.

She was just waiting on Yoongi and Namjoon, the former bravely knocking on the wolf hybrid’s bedroom door and slipping inside, mentioning that he’d ask Namjoon if he was going to the mall for Y/N, which warmed her heart dangerously. After a few painstaking moments of burning a hole through Namjoon’s door, Yoongi emerged, the wolf hybrid reluctantly in tow. Finally getting a good look at him since he had scented her, Y/N choked on her intake of breath, Namjoon looking better than ever in light wash jeans and a navy tee shirt Y/N had ordered for him.

Thankfully, Jimin had encouraged everyone to the car, Y/N stiffly sliding into the driver’s seat next to Namjoon, who was fastidiously ignoring her by sticking his face into the library copy of Wuthering Heights and his ears flat against his skull. Not exactly expecting such a chilly demeanor from the wolf hybrid, Y/N switched on the radio, doing her best to ignore him right back. It was difficult, an almost gravitational-like pull begging her to reach out and grab a hold of his hand resting on his thigh. Gritting her teeth, Y/N set her navigation for the mall a town over, feeling Taehyung from behind her fiddle with a lock of her hair through the gap of the headrest. She temporarily forgot about the wolf hybrid brooding beside her, Taehyung’s curious touch distracting her as she began to drive down the street.

Forking over a fistful of cash at the Auntie Anne’s counter, Y/N shook her head with amusement as Hoseok noisily slurped a Salted Caramel Chocolate Frost beside her, his tail brushing her leg as it swished back and forth happily. The others were similarly enjoying pretzel dogs, nuggets, and large slushy drinks, clumped around a bench nearby the counter. Taking a bite of her own cinnamon-sugar dusted nuggets, Y/N sat beside Jeongguk on the bench. The elk hybrid had a bit of hot salsa cheese dip on the corner of his mouth, chewing his roasted garlic and parmesan pretzel quite ravenously. Giggling, Y/N wanted to wipe his face for him, but didn’t want to risk the possibility of him running away to the opposite end of the mall.

The mall was fairly empty, considering it was a Thursday afternoon, much to Y/N’s relief. There was still some time before the haircut appointments, Y/N surveying the salon beside a Victoria’s Secret several yards away. Munching thoughtfully, Y/N considered buying some new undergarments while everyone was getting their hair done, but shivered at the thought of any of them catching her pick out panties. A hand snuck in between her and Jeongguk, a pinched-off piece of a classic pretzel being waved in her face. Craning her neck upwards, Seokjin offered her a goofy, affectionate grin as Y/N accepted the piece from his fingertips, trading it with one of her cinnamon-sugar nuggets.

“So, your appointments are in about ten minutes, I suppose I should check you all in,” Y/N tossed her empty pretzel cup into a garbage can by the mall fountain, accidentally interrupting a conversation between Yoongi and Jimin while they sat on the ledge of the fountain. Both hybrid’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice cutely. “Where the hell did Namjoon go,” Y/N muttered, scanning the immediate area for the wolf hybrid.

Tapping her shoulder lightly, Taehyung pointed a little ways away from the pretzel counter, Y/N spotting Namjoon reading the mall directory map while sipping on his lemonade. Without Y/N saying anything to him, Taehyung took off in Namjoon’s direction, and after several moments the wolf hybrid followed the former towards the salon with great distaste painting his features. Namjoon really seemed to dislike Taehyung, Y/N thought. The others trailing behind her into the humid salon like students to a teacher on a field trip, Y/N caught Hoseok sniffing the hairspray-scented air with a slightly nervous expression.

The young woman working at the reception desk assessed the large number of people crowding her waiting area with poorly disguised shock, scrambling for the appointment book.

“Good afternoon, I’m sorry… Did you make an online appointment? And for whom?” The woman pulled her eyebrows together, squinting at the appointment book with a flush settling over her cheeks.

“Stacy, you have to start recording the online appointment requests in the book. It’s a good thing all of the stylists can check the online bookings too. These are the seven hybrid cuts, the appointment was made over the weekend,” A tough-looking woman came around the corner leading into the main part of a salon, her rockstar-style pixie cut dyed a vibrant purple. Spluttering, too busy staring at Taehyung beside Y/N unabashedly, Stacy didn’t seem to hear the other woman.

“Mm-hmm. I’ll start doing that,” Stacy responded dreamily, moving on to ogle at Seokjin with equal admiration.

Grinding her teeth, Y/N watched the woman with the purple hair, presumably a stylist judging by the apron tied around her waist, roll her eyes at Stacy. Y/N knew all of her hybrids were extremely handsome, but something about Stacy’s excessive coyness all of a sudden bothered her, even when she offered them all coffee sweetly.

“Alright gentlemen. All of the stylists are ready, we scheduled a good block of time to do your cuts since we didn’t have too many details about styles on the form. Fault of the form, of course, not you, hun,” the purple-haired woman assured Y/N quickly. “We really need a new online system. I’m Karlie, by the way.”

“Karlie, nice to meet you. Is it alright if I mill around the mall while they’re here?” Y/N asked, not keen on cramming her ass into one of the stiff-looking plastic chairs in the waiting room for an extended period of time. She also had a side mission: looking around for gifts for both Jeongguk and Namjoon’s upcoming birthdays.

“Go right ahead, we’ll send them on their way once they’re done and I’ll shoot you a text, since you’ve already paid for the cuts online beforehand. I’m sure they’ll be able to find you,” Karlie waved her hand, motioning for Jimin, who was closest to her, to shuffle into the main room of the salon. Jimin stalled, staring at Y/N with wide eyes.

Each hybrid looked a tad bewildered that Y/N was leaving them there, Karlie and Stacy giving them a moment in the waiting room before their appointments. Even steely Namjoon had his jaw set in trepidation, looking entirely out of place in the flowery salon.

“I’ll stay on the first floor, so you won’t have to worry about me straying too far from the salon here. It’ll be nice, I promise– they’re all trained to work with hybrid’s hair, you’ll feel fresh and relaxed after. I think they do hot towel treatments here, I read it online,” Y/N patted Jimin’s back gently, trying her best to comfort them all earnestly. “And afterwards you guys should pick out some clothes, too. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to get things in your own styles.”

“Ready, gentlemen?” Karlie popped her head around the corner, Y/N getting the feeling she was listening in the whole time. “You’re in good hands, several of the stylists themselves have hybrids at home.”

Still looking somewhat unconvinced, Y/N watched her seven hybrids disappear around the corner into the salon’s main room, Karlie attempting to make small talk with Jeongguk cheerily. Rocking on her heels, Y/N felt remorseful as an intrusive thought popped into her head– perhaps they thought she was going to ditch them at the salon and return home without them. Of course, that would never happen in a million years; Y/N already couldn’t picture her life and future without any of them in it.

Circling the first floor a couple of times in search of a store to look for gifts, Y/N mumbled to herself, nothing quite striking her as uniquely Jeongguk or Namjoon. She put down the pack of sparkly silver earrings that caught her eye for Jeongguk in an accessory store, deciding they were a bit too flashy for him. Usually, she was quite good at picking out birthday gifts for her loved ones, but the two she was shopping for at the moment were tough nuts to crack.

She found herself in a shoe store across from the salon, searching for a new pair of slippers for herself since her current pair had a hole by the big toe. Waiting for the sales clerk to ring up the pair she selected, Y/N checked her watch, not believing such a little amount of time had passed. It was startling how much she missed the hybrids even after less than a half hour, Y/N trying to peer into the large door of the salon as if she’d be able to catch a glimpse of them. All she saw was Stacy at the desk, talking on the phone and twirling a lock of glossy brunette hair around her finger.

Swinging the bag with her slippers around in her hand, Y/N strolled into the bookstore one door down from the shoe store, hoping she could pick up something in there for Namjoon at the very least. Unsurprisingly, as she had zero impulse control in a bookstore, Y/N filled up her basket at lightning speed. Towards the back of the store, Y/N located the slim shelf with the occult books, sliding her finger along the spines as she read the titles. She had many of the books, but some of the titles were from new occult authors she had never heard of before. Scooping up a thin paperback of protection spells, Y/N promptly dropped it into her basket without much of a thought. She picked out a couple other occult books she thought Jeongguk and Namjoon might like– The Paranormal Investigative Field Guide and Spirits, Entities, and Cryptids: a Comprehensive Collection of the Supernatural.

Inching towards the journals, Y/N spotted a beautiful black leather one sitting on the shelf, with carved filigree on the front and an elegant clasp to keep it shut. The paper was almost linen-like in texture, the whole journal practically screaming Jeongguk, whose current journal was looking a little worse for wear. Grinning to herself, Y/N selected a set of inky pens to go with it, happy with her choices so far. She was thinking about heading to the electronics store the following week for a video camera, thinking a whole “paranormal investigation” theme for the elk hybrid would be perfect for him.

As for Namjoon, with just one book for him in her basket, Y/N knew she’d have to think about what else to get him for a few more days. She simply didn’t know enough about him yet, she concluded, with a pang of sadness. Part of her wanted to call her mother for any ideas, but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of hearing Y/N admit she knew less about her hybrid than she did. The thought of her mother bragging about how wonderful the wolf hybrid was, or scolding Y/N for not being more observant of Namjoon’s interests, sent a shiver down her spine.

After having the cashier carefully wrap up the books, Y/N lugged the heavy bag to her car, moving as quickly as she could from the parking lot back into the first floor of the mall, praying that none of them had been looking for her within the five minutes she had popped out. Settling a palm over her racing heart, Y/N checked her phone for any messages from Karlie, discovering nothing from the stylist, but instead a single text from Hoseok.

Curiously, Y/N tapped on the notification, snorting loudly at the attached image the fox hybrid sent. It was a somewhat-blurry candid of Jeongguk, sitting grumpily in a styling chair with a cape velcroed around his neck, under a hair dryer with a shower cap stretched over his conditioner-caked hair. The shower cap had several holes cut into it to accommodate his antlers and ears, his eyes downcast as he stared at his phone with clear annoyance. Saving the image, Y/N sent Hoseok back several laughing emojis, amused that the hybrids were getting so pampered at the salon. It made her want to return to Stacy at the front desk to schedule a haircut for herself.

Trying to find a comfortable place to sit for a bit, Y/N wandered by the food court, spotting a new boutique that must have opened recently, boasting an end-of-summer sale on a window sign. Intrigued, Y/N breezed into the store, the bright interior still holding a lingering paint smell in the air. Leafing through the sales rack, Y/N stopped at a beautiful lavender sundress marked half off. Pulling it off the rack, Y/N admired the simplicity of the patternless fabric. Likely falling mid-thigh, the waist fitted and skirt flared out, the dress was held up by spaghetti straps and had a sweetheart neckline with ruching and a bow holding the fabric across the bust together. Delighted, the tag reading that it was, in fact, her size, the material wispy and soft, Y/N knew she had found her outfit for the cookout, having the perfect sandals at home to go with the dress.

With her outfit in hand, Y/N’s spirits were soaring, finally looking forward to having an opportunity to dress up and have fun with all of her friends. Perhaps she was being a little bit cynical earlier in the day dwelling on all of the things she had to accomplish before she could enjoy herself at the cookout, but as Taehyung had said, she now had help.

Sitting at a large table in the food court by herself, Y/N gently set down the two trays of boba milk tea she was able to score from the counter that usually had a line wrapped around the food court. Again, part of her felt like she wasn’t really encouraging healthy choices as far as food and beverage, but she wanted to get the hybrids an extra treat for enduring such a lengthy appointment while she twirled around the mall by herself.

Scrolling through her Twitter feed, Y/N hummed to herself, simultaneously stabbing the wide straw through her boba lid. Her phone buzzed in her hand while she watched some sort of mindless Tik Tok on kitchen organization, grumbling as she opened up the message. It was Karlie, letting her know that a couple of her hybrids were all set and on their way. Straightening up in her seat, Y/N scanned her surroundings, trying to remember what everyone was wearing as she squinted at a passing group of elderly women power walking in sneakers. As she drummed her fingers against the table, Y/N checked her watch– over an hour had passed since she had left them at the salon. She wondered if they’d return with highlights, with all that time.

“Y/N, my darling! There you are, did you get me another sugary drink? Is this your way of apologizing for subjecting me to an hour of hairspray inhalation?” Hoseok’s loud voice came from her right, Y/N whipping her head around as he slid into the booth next to her with a wry grin on his face.

His mahogany hair was neatly trimmed now, cropped in the back and around the sides in a sort of bowl-cut manner, his waves parted down the middle and gleaming brilliantly even under the unflattering fluorescent lighting of the mall. Her mouth had dropped open to accuse him of teasing her again, but her tongue turned to stone now that she could see his face so clearly. Winking at her speechlessness, Hoseok pried one of the boba cups out of the paper tray, diving in promptly. The metal screech of the chair across from her had her squeaking, tearing her eyes from Hoseok to land on Yoongi standing over them, eyes narrowed at Hoseok with peevishness.

“Stop bitching. I was sure you were going to start moaning when they put that hot towel over your head, Foxy,” Yoongi countered, his silky black hair still long and beautiful, but the sides above his human set of ears were shaved neatly, offering a more edgy look than when it was entirely overgrown.

“Are you picking a fight with me Yoongi?” Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, though didn’t seem particularly bothered by Yoongi’s comment. Hoseok, Y/N had noticed, tended to let things glide right off his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yoongi scoffed, tilting his head contemplatively as he accepted a cup from Y/N.

Y/N caught his eyes zeroing in on the sides of her neck as she leaned away from him, where the lilac bruises were watercoloring the skin where Namjoon and Seokjin had scented her. Flushing violently, Y/N tried to maintain eye contact with the leopard hybrid, his irises like a kaleidoscope of greens and golds, and it was hard to dissect the thoughts behind them.

“So it went well? Any hiccups?” Y/N cleared her throat, breaking her eyes away from Yoongi’s feline stare with difficulty by swirling around the boba in her cup.

“You mean, did anyone cause a scene? No,” Hoseok replied through a mouthful of tapioca pearls.

“Come on, Hoseok, you’re putting words in my mouth,” Y/N nudged him with her shoulder softly, though he did see right through her pretty accurately. “I was wondering more along the lines of if anyone ended up with a shitty haircut.”

“I don’t know about that. Jeongguk got some weird shaved style, but I guess it’s all about preferences. My tastes are more classic,” Hoseok puffed out his chest, always taking an opportunity to make fun of the elk hybrid when he could.

“Yeah, Foxy. The salad bowl cut is very classy,” Yoongi teased, crossing his arms over his hoodie-clad chest. Hoseok called Yoongi ‘Fabio’ under his breath, Y/N’s head spinning as she tried to keep up with the antics.

“Oh, Seokjin is close by,” Hoseok perked up, chin tilted towards to the right as he gazed off into the distance. Brow cocked, Y/N tried to see whatever it was that he could, but only caught a glimpse of the elderly women lapping around the first floor again.

“Jimin and Taehyung, too,” Yoongi added, his tone disinterested as he picked at his nails.

“How do you kn–” Y/N began, Yoongi chuckling at her, making the words die on her tongue before she could finish.

“Their scents, silly girl. How do you think we found you, in the first place?” Yoongi drawled, a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth. Appalled, Y/N gawked at Yoongi with disbelief, wondering when he had gotten so bold. She preferred when she made him flustered.

“Stop teasing her, Yoongi, she got you a drink, after all,” Hoseok chided distractedly before waving his hands in the air enthusiastically, spotting Seokjin several feet away with Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Pot calling kettle, Y/N thought with minor amusement.

From where she was sitting, it appeared that Seokjin had gotten a very similar haircut to Hoseok, though his curls were tighter than the fox hybrid’s and his bangs were longer, skimming right under his eyebrows. He hurried over to the table once he saw Hoseok’s exaggerated arm flailing, Y/N placing the bag with her new sundress on the floor to clear the spot on her other side. Seokjin predictably slid into the booth as soon as it was vacated, bringing a light floral scent coming from his hair when he shook it out with a content sigh.

Jimin was next to arrive at the table, Y/N hoping her eyes weren’t bugging out of her head when he smiled at her brightly, his honey-blonde hair cropped short neatly and styled in a slicked back way, a single strand falling on his forehead like Clark Kent. Nearly choking on a tapioca pearl, Y/N couldn’t believe how much Jimin looked like a model, the entirety of his sculpted face perfectly visible now. She felt Hoseok’s shoulders shaking with laughter next to her, which she actively ignored when Taehyung took his seat beside Yoongi.

“What is this?” Taehyung asked curiously, inspecting the drink Yoongi passed to him warily. “What’s the stuff at the bottom?”

Taehyung cocked his head at Y/N, apparently speaking to her, his curly dark hair bouncy and trimmed now to frame his face, the bulk of it that clung around his neck shaved to expose the elegant column of it. Even his ears were more visible now, they were rounded and small, and it made her want to squeal upon seeing them. Y/N was completely overwhelmed; perhaps she should have just allowed the hybrids to walk around like mountain men now that she saw them with runway styles.

“It’s milk tea. The stuff at the bottom is tapioca pearls, they’re soaked in a sweet syrup, I think you’ll like it,” Y/N answered as succinctly as she could, cringing as she watched him try to peel the plastic off the top of the cup.

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi snatched the cup away again, stabbing a straw into the plastic lid for Taehyung before returning it like an impatient parent. The whole table watched the Kodiak hybrid take a tentative sip, his garnet eyes narrowing at the taste contemplatively. Y/N gave him a thumbs-up, which he returned after a moment, draining the cup about a quarter of the way– she thought it was safe to say he was enjoying it.

“The other two are almost done, Miss Y/N. I think it was a little difficult for the stylist doing Jeongguk’s hair to navigate around his antlers and piercings,” Jimin volunteered helpfully after a few beats, leaning back in his chair comfortably. Hoseok nodded in agreement, a smirk ghosting his lips as he processed Jimin’s subtle condescending tone towards the elk hybrid.

“Okay, as soon as they get here we’ll head up to the second floor. There’s a huge hybrid clothes store up there– so you all can pick out clothes for yourselves, you know, express your personalities and whatnot,” Y/N fiddled with her straw while she spoke, trying to conjure up images in her mind of what styles they might all gravitate to.

“I already have more clothes than I’ve ever had,” Seokjin started to giggle from beside her, apparently making a joke. Trying not to react to another clue into Seokjin’s past, reminded of his time at the shitty circus company he had been sold to, Y/N shook her head sadly.

“Jin, I’ll help you pick out some things. You definitely don’t strike me as someone with a developed fashion taste,” Hoseok reached behind Y/N’s back to pat Seokjin’s shoulder with excessive force, the jaguar hybrid grumbling with agitation.

“Do they have shoes? I’m probably going to need some boots when I work outside…” Jimin traced a fingertip over his chin in thought, one of his sandy ears twitching.

“They do, but if you don’t find anything you like, there are other shoe stores around,” Y/N replied, noticing that Yoongi’s ears had perked up in the same direction as Jimin’s. She had a feeling Namjoon and Jeongguk were due at the table at any moment.

“Here come the gray clouds,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, Y/N resisting the urge to kick his shin from under the table.

Y/N placed her hands on Hoseok’s arm to push him out of the booth so they could get a move on, keeping in mind that they still had to hit the grocery and liquor stores before they went home. Hoseok leaned into her touch, grinning cheekily as he hauled himself off the vinyl seat, Seokjin graciously handing Y/N her almost forgotten shopping bag containing her new sundress.

As she turned around after thanking Seokjin, Y/N almost slammed face-first into a broad chest directly behind her, stumbling backwards to prevent the collision somewhat inelegantly. Reeling, Y/N registered Namjoon in front of her, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His ears were turned downwards against his skull, his silvery strands swept up to reveal his forehead for the first time with the shorter cut he had opted for. Dazzled, Y/N forgot all about how he had been ignoring her, a stupid smile stretching across her face as she took in how lovely the wolf hybrid was.

“Hi Namjoon,” Y/N offered him one of the final milk teas with a cheerful expression, encouraged when he took it without hesitation, craning her neck to peer around his shoulder to greet Jeongguk.

The elk hybrid, looking the most dramatically different compared to when he had arrived at the mall with a head of shoulder-length shaggy hair, appeared both a touch exasperated but mostly smug. The sides of his head were shaved into an undercut, the tops and back of the style maintaining some of the length of his chestnut locks. The style almost emphasized the way his antlers encircled his head like a crown, Y/N barely even recognizing him with the shiny gel holding the strands in place– he was holding a jar of gel in his hand that he had purchased from the salon.

Holding out her bag with her sundress in it, Y/N urged Jeongguk to drop the jar inside of it, trying her best not to shrivel up under his cocky, confident expression directed right at her. Luckily, Jimin extended an olive branch by giving the elk hybrid the last milk tea, and they were all on their way to the second floor without much fuss.

“My stylist was so nice. She told me she had a calico cat hybrid at home, named Ruby,” Seokjin, from his spot in front of her on the escalator, announced. “She said I had ‘pretty eyes’.”

Chuckling, stepping off of the escalator with care, Y/N took the chance to admire Seokjin’s vibrant orange eyes rimmed with thick black lashes in appreciation. His stylist wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, it was actually relaxing. I didn’t know what to expect, at first. I thought she was just going to shave my head,” Yoongi commented, his fingertips brushing Y/N’s wrist as she led the way to Hybrid Outfitters. “My old barber on the North End never listened to me. I always walked out of there with something crazy… he was like eighty, not like I could say anything to him.”

Reaching the front of the store, Y/N scratched her head, making sure everyone was present. Growing hot all over, she felt like she needed to check the original appointment booking to see if she had over generously tipped considering how beautiful all of their haircuts had turned out. Swallowing hard, Y/N shifted from one foot to another as they walked into the shop in one big huddle. Everyone was looking at her expectantly when she didn’t tell them to split up, her nerves getting the best of her as she revealed part of her inner monologue impulsively.

“All I can say is… you all look very handsome,” Y/N blurted, half wanting to pay a compliment and half unable to hold herself back. “Go ahead and pick out anything you like, I’ll just hang out near the fitting rooms!”

Cringing from her lack of a filter, she sped further into the store without waiting for the hybrid’s reactions to her comment. Thankful that none of them had chased after her, Y/N let out a ragged sigh as she sunk into the worn cushions of the sofa next to the fitting rooms. Gritting her teeth, she glued her eyes to her phone to temper her embarassment, trying to read the long thread of messages in the groupchat that she had missed.

Ben Alpin: Just picked up the cupcakes. The boxes barely fit in the back of the Lexus

Alice Santos: Is it necessary to mention the fact that your car is a Lexus each time you’re in it

Ben Alpin: Yes, it’s in the manual

Laura Santos: I picked up some outdoor toys for Kai and Daisy today, bubbles and chalk mostly. Y/N, do you still have that kiddie pool in the garage?

Ben Alpin: Laura, you’re an angel!

Alice Santos: That kiddie pool must be from WWI, didn’t we throw it out when we helped clear out your grandma’s hoard of old shit?

Ben Alpin: It has Barney on it, for Christ’s sake Al. It can’t be older than me

Y/N: I think it’s still in the garage, I’ll check when I’m back at home. Took the hybrids out for some new clothes, and to help with the grocery shopping

Alice Santos: Oh, so you haven’t been killed by the seven men living in your house?

Laura Santos: Al, tone it down!!!

Y/N: NO!! I told you, they’re sweethearts. See for yourself tomorrow. BTW – they heard the whole phone call from the other day :(

Ben Alpin: Did you guys have another Facetime without me

Alice Santos: Yes

Laura Santos: I’m sure they knew we were just concerned, Y/N!

Y/N: That’s what I explained to one of them. He has a bit of a penchant for interrogation

Ben Alpin: We don’t even know their names yet, care to enlighten

Laura Santos: Or what TYPES of hybrids they are! Ben told me they were ‘exotics’ ??

Taking a deep breath and crossing her legs, Y/N tried her best to keep up with the constant stream of text messages rolling in, deciding it was only fair to give her friends a little bit of background instead of having them come to the cookout flying blind.

Y/N: Ok, ok

Alice Santos: ???

Y/N: There’s Seokjin, a jaguar hybrid, Taehyung who’s a Kodiak bear. Hoseok, a red fox, and Jimin is a coyote hybrid

Ben Alpin: Holy shit. Like those giant bears from Alaska???

Alice Santos: Which one has the ‘penchant for interrogation’

Y/N: That’s Namjoon, he’s a Northwestern wolf hybrid.

Laura Santos: And the other two?

Y/N: The youngest, who’s about the same age as me and you girls, is Jeongguk. He’s an elk hybrid. The last is Yoongi and he’s a leopard hybrid… though I swear, I feel like I’ve met Yoongi before, it’s the strangest thing. He used to work at some bar under the table in Boston before I adopted him

Ben Alpin: Maybe you tried slipping him your number during a blackout bar-tour one Friday night in grad school. You DO love your cute bartenders

Laura Santos: LOL very possible for her

“Y/N? Does this look alright?” A quiet voice in front of her distracted Y/N from sending an expletive response to Ben’s dig at her.

Looking up, Taehyung was standing next to a fitting room, trying on silky ruby colored short-sleeved button down and a pair of baggy black cargo pants, his fingertips tugging on the hemline of his shirt contemplatively. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Y/N got to her feet, approaching Taehyung, motioning with a finger to have him turn in a circle. He did so obediently, holding his arms out wide, a playful smile on his lips as Y/N assessed the look.

“Looks very nice. Maybe tuck in the front of the shirt into your pants? Do the pants fit right, or are they too big?” Y/N tilted her head, wondering if they sold belts.

“No, they’re supposed to be loose. Should I wear this tomorrow?” Taehyung tucked in his shirt as she suggested, casting a look into one of the full-length mirrors behind him.

“Yeah, why not? That shirt brings out the pretty red in your eyes,” Y/N replied, ignoring her phone buzzing a hole into the back pocket of her jean shorts.

“Pretty!” Taehyung exclaimed, surprise coloring his features as he turned back to stare at Y/N with shock. “You’re bold today, aren’t you?”

Placing her hands on her hips, Y/N shook her head, unable to deny the accusation.

“Just speaking my mind. It’s not like I can lie to you all, now that I know you can sniff it out,” Y/N teased, poking him on his shoulder with a smile. Taehyung was fun to tease; his cheeks flushed brilliantly and it was an opportunity to see his cute toothy smile.

“That’s right. No more secret-keeping for you,” Taehyung leaned down to level his face with her’s, Y/N almost rearing back before Taehyung poked the fleshy apple of her cheek in retaliation. “I have a few more things to try on. You should help the wolf, he looks lost.”

Spluttering, she watched Taehyung’s shoulders shake as he turned and disappeared into his fitting room, shutting the door behind him and leaving Y/N to place a hand over where his fingertip had been. Remembering she was in public,Y/N frantically made sure no one was staring at her, spotting Hoseok holding up a thin sweater against Seokjin’s chest with a contemplative cocked brow towards the front of the store. Nearby, Jeongguk was sifting through a pile of black tee-shirts on a table.

Trying to locate Namjoon, Y/N weaved her way further into the store, waving to Jimin and Yoongi by the jeans, finally finding the wolf hybrid by the sales racks at the back of the store. Humming, Y/N watched Namjoon’s ear twitch while his back was turned to her, Y/N running her fingertips over a caramel-colored crew neck sweater, the thread impossibly soft. Plucking it off the rack, Y/N held it up, noting that it was in Namjoon’s size.

“This would look nice on you,” Y/N commented nonchalantly, watching the wolf hybrid’s shoulders stiffen out of the corner of her eye.

At a glacial pace, he shuffled over to her, assessing the sweater with narrowed eyes. Reaching out to grasp one of the sleeves, he ran a thumb over the material, his eyebrows lifting in what Y/N perceived to be consideration.

“It’s my size,” Namjoon mumbled, taking the sweater from her gingerly. “How did you know?”

“I pretty much have all of your sizes memorized. They were on your information sheets back at the shelter, and I wrote them down on my phone so I could place that online order of clothes over the weekend,” Y/N explained, brushing off the fact that Namjoon’s tone was on the side of accusatory. Namjoon grunted in response, returning to pawing through the section with his sizes, seemingly gravitating towards earth tones as he piled up a couple of items in his arm.

Y/N suggested a few more items, and Namjoon surprisingly accepted each one, though he didn’t reply to her verbally any further. It was like she was back to having a one-sided conversation with him in the shelter while he was still shifted into wolf form, Y/N feeling remorse flood through her body. She thought she had been making progress with cracking through his tough exterior, but it seemed they had taken one step forward and two steps back. She missed his insightful responses to her questions, and most painfully of all, she noted that he took extra care to avoid physical contact with her– always standing a good two feet away from her proximity.

After a while, Yoongi and Jimin sought her out after paying for their clothes, each with large bags swinging from the crooks of their elbows. Thankful to have two hybrids that actually wanted to speak to her, Y/N watched Namjoon make his escape to the checkout line, where all of the others were waiting to pay for their armfuls of clothing.

“Did you find some boots Jimin?” Y/N asked the coyote hybrid, walking between him and Yoongi, to wait outside of the store for the others. Yoongi was so close to her, she could feel his body heat as the three of them leaned against the railing overlooking the first floor of the mall.

“I did, they had some real nice ones, too. They’re not roper boots, but they’ll do,” Jimin shook one of his shopping bags lightly, his closed-lip smile making his eyes scrunch up into slits.

“That’s good! And you both found some clothes, that makes me happy,” Y/N sighed, muscles melting into the metal railing they were leaning against. Her back was killing her, and her day wasn’t even halfway over. “Two more stops to make, the grocery and liquor stores. Then we can go home.”

Yoongi inched even closer to her, if that was even possible, as she spoke. Eyeing him, she watched him pick his nails again, noting he was particularly fidgety that afternoon, as well as sharper of tongue. Thinking that it would be wise to do her extensive research on scenting later, Y/N wondered if Yoongi was beginning to feel the discomfort of not doing so. Leaning her shoulder into his upper arm, Yoongi looked down at her curiously, a strand of his inky hair falling forward into his face.

“Our piano lesson is tomorrow,” Y/N reminded him excitedly, enjoying the soft smile that bloomed across his face. “You think we’ll be able to squeeze it in between cooking and the actual cookout?”

“For sure. I’ll just teach you some basics to get a foundation, after we get some of the prep done for the food. We’ll do the lesson earlier in the morning, after breakfast,” Yoongi replied after a few moments, drumming his fingertips along the metal banister of the railing. “I’m sure if you delegate certain tasks to the other guys, they’d be more than happy to help out. Hey Jimin, can you chop wood?”

Jimin made a choked noise, his reverie of watching a clump of young children race each other on the first floor interrupted, apparently not listening.

“I can,” a voice from behind had the three leaning against the banner turn, Taehyung emerging from the store with his lengthy receipt and three shopping bags. “That was pretty much my whole job before I got here.”

“There you go. Taehyung, won’t you help Y/N with the firewood for that old firepit in the backyard?” Yoongi urged, Y/N shrinking in embarrassment against Yoongi’s arm as Taehyung’s eyes shifted from her to the leopard hybrid with confusion.

“Of course,” Taehyung returned without hesitation, stiffening as Hoseok and Seokjin appeared, flanking his either side.

Embarrassed to even ask for help in the first place, Y/N wanted to step on Yoongi’s foot when he asked Taehyung to perform a task for her, even though she knew the leopard hybrid was trying to get everything to run smoothly for the next day’s event. She refrained from stamping down on his toes as she stared at the floor, not wanting to risk him backing out of teaching her piano in the morning. Most of all, Y/N didn’t miss the way Taehyung had accidentally given her a clue into his past workplace, making her wonder when exactly she’d learn more intimate details.

When Jeongguk and Namjoon finally joined the rest of them, Y/N chatted with Jimin and Hoseok on the way back to the car about some of the guests they’d be meeting. She summed up the list of people as best she could, glaring at a middle-aged woman rudely gawking at the group of them in a judgemental manner in the parking lot. Catching the interaction, Hoseok gave her a gentle pat on the back, his lips pressed into a ‘what are you going to do?’ smile, opening her car door for her.

Clambering in, she thanked Hoseok as he gently shut the door, starting up the car as everyone piled in. Once again, Namjoon returned to his book beside her, though Y/N could feel his eyes on her every so often as she drove to the grocery store. One step forward, two steps back.

The rest of Thursday passed by in a whirlwind. Grocery shopping was a breeze with eight people to scatter around the store for specific items, and hauling crates of liquor into the house was even easier– no one allowed her to carry in a single bag, apart from a carton of eggs. Taehyung and Jimin immediately went to the backyard with the keys for the garage, milling back and forth with lawn furniture, wood from the woodshed, and axes.

After a while, Namjoon went outside to help with the furniture and hosing off the picnic table with Jimin to avoid too much contact with Taehyung, only after reading a large chunk of Wuthering Heights in the breakfast nook. To her great astonishment, Namjoon must have been listening to her talking about dragging the kiddie pool out from the garage on the way home, settling it on the grass and filling it with the hose. After Y/N watched them for a bit, Hoseok and Seokjin volunteered to help her with applying a quick-drying varnish to the staircase. She was hoping that it would dry before those who slept on the second floor went up to bed.

Y/N spent the evening with most of the hybrids in the kitchen, eating leftovers, prepping vegetables with Yoongi and and to her great surprise, Jeongguk. Somewhat begrudgingly, the elk hybrid offered to scrub potatoes. Y/N was merry, enjoying her company while they listened to a playlist Hoseok created on the portable speaker she couldn’t locate earlier in the week; she found out he had it in the basement the whole time. Everything she was worried about that morning had pretty much been taken care of, Yoongi’s methodical approach to prepping and cooking leading her to believe they’d be enjoying themselves outside with the guests the next day sooner than she thought.

On Friday morning, Y/N woke up with the sun. Nerves awoke her more than anything, but the promise of Yoongi’s piano lesson after breakfast brightened her mood significantly. After her shower, Y/N shimmied into her new sundress, shocked to see how good it looked on her in the full-length mirror as she did a little twirl. Taking some extra time to style her hair to cover the fading injury on her forehead and apply some makeup, Y/N grinned at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection staring back. It had been a while since she dolled herself up, between long hours at the veterinarian hospital and lazy weekends spent renovating. Slipping on her sandals clumsily while she fastened earrings into her lobes, Y/N gave herself a spritz with a light perfume before skipping out of her bedroom.

Noises in the kitchen gave away the fact that she was not the first one up and about, even Namjoon’s bedroom door wide open and empty as she passed by. The cookout wasn’t until 12:30, but apparently the hybrids were keen on getting an early start, as Y/N heard Hoseok’s cheerful whistling from the kitchen. The third beautiful day– weather wise– in a row, Y/N enjoyed the light flooding into the house, following the scent of toasted everything bagels to the kitchen.

To her great surprise, everyone was already in the kitchen still dressed in pajamas, the chaos of seven different male voices clashing at once. None of them seemed to notice her as she hesitated at the threshold of the kitchen, Seokjin and Hoseok arguing loudly by the toaster oven, Yoongi by the stove with Jimin lurking behind, and everyone else glued to their phones at the breakfast nook.

“Morning!” Y/N waltzed into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee bar.

Immediately, all noise ceased in the room, Y/N cringing as a loud clatter of a knife was dropped onto the granite countertop cut the sudden silence. Hand stilling against the coffee carafe, she turned abruptly, trying to make sure no one lobbed off a finger. Heart plummeting to her stomach, the blood drained from her face as Y/N was met with seven pairs of eyes boring holes into her in various expressions of astonishment, each hybrid frozen in space like they were carved from marble. As if she was transported back into high school, Y/N wondered if the skirt of her dress was tucked into her panties, her fingertips brushing the circumference of the hemline automatically. Clearly not the issue, as she felt the skirt flow freely against the tops of her thighs, Y/N chuckled nervously.

“What?” She blurted, feeling extremely self-conscious that all seven of them were staring at her so intensely, tugging on the material of the sundress. “Oh fuck, is the dress hideous? I thought I had decent taste without Ben being there to help me, Jesus. I should have sent him a picture before I bought it.”

Scrambling for the dropped knife, Yoongi attempted to resume chopping the mound of peeled potatoes beside him, Hoseok hissing by the toaster oven as his hand landed on the hot grates of the rack. Several voices piped up at once in the meantime, frantically.

“N-no, it’s pretty–” Jimin started hoarsely, fumbling with the potato peeler he was gripping with white knuckles.

“Who’s Ben?” Came Taehyung’s voice urgently from the breakfast nook simultaneously.

“You look beautiful,” Seokjin blurted from the toaster, all three responses taking her off-guard.

Forgetting about the coffee, Y/N felt her confidence bump up exponentially, standing up a bit straighter. Namjoon’s library book was dropped clumsily by his feet, finally making widened eye-contact with her for the first time since the night he scented her, his mouth dropped open a fraction. Even Jeongguk’s dark eyes trailed her form from head to toe, not unlike when he had assessed her the day she had picked him up from the shelter.

“Stop r-really– I mean, thank you,” Y/N corrected herself, reminded of her mother scolding her for not accepting compliments. “I guess I forgot to tell you about Ben, universe forgive me. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, and he’s actually the reason I came to adopt you all in the first place. I went with him and his fiance to adopt their daughter Daisy the night I found you guys at Gerry’s,” Y/N explained, attempting to pour herself coffee normally in order to distract herself from being watched so closely.

Wanting to break up whatever energy that had manifested with her arrival in the kitchen, Y/N brought her coffee mug over to Yoongi’s free side, balking at all the work he had already done. It was still so early in the morning, but she felt like she had overslept, seeing that Yoongi had already made two vegetable sides and had a chili simmering away on the stove.

“Yoongi, did you get up at three or something? I’m not going to have anything to do at this point!” Y/N complained, her lower lip jutting out as she realized the leopard hybrid had already made the salad dressing recipe she showed him on her phone the day before, the jar sitting on the island all sealed up.

“I got up once I heard your shower running,” Clearing his throat roughly, Yoongi trained his eyes on the potato he was cutting, the knife shaking with his unsteady grip.

Nodding, Y/N bent low, trying to catch the leopard hybrid’s eyes to convey a sense of gratitude playfully, but he remained stonily focused on his task. Growing uncomfortable with the eerie silence in the kitchen, Y/N began to nervously hum to herself while starting on a fruit salad, picking up a strawberry draining in the colander in the sink and cutting it on a smaller board next to Yoongi.

“Hoseok, is your hand alright, honey? Do you need some burn cream?” Y/N paused her strawberry-slicing, the fox hybrid looking like a deer in headlights as she addressed him.

“Oh, uh no thanks, I’m fine,” Hoseok answered, his voice a pitch higher than normal as he inspected his left hand.

“Okay, good. Why don’t you put that playlist back on, I really liked it,” Y/N scraped a pile of sliced strawberries into a large bowl with the flat of her knife, hoping that a bit of music would cut the tension.

Maybe they didn’t like her perfume, or she had interrupted an important conversation by her arrival in the kitchen? Whatever it was, each and every one of them were behaving strangely; even Jeongguk, who had migrated from the breakfast nook to the barstool directly across from where she was slicing fruit, watching her with rapt interest. She perked up a degree as Hoseok switched on the speaker to a punchy 80’s song, grateful for the noise.

To her great relief, Seokjin struck up a normal conversation with her from his spot next to Jeongguk as he munched on his bagel, asking all sorts of questions about her friendship with Ben. She didn’t mind filling Seokjin in on her childhood spent running around the backyard with Ben, seeing it as an opportunity to describe her best friend to the hybrids before they met the fiery lawyer that afternoon. Y/N knew Ben would have a bulleted list of queries for each hybrid when he got there, the thought making her bite down on her lip. She hoped Ben wouldn’t be too hard on them, worried that he’d meet his match when it was Namjoon’s turn to be grilled.

Taehyung excused himself from the kitchen to shower and change shortly after she had finished mixing the fruit salad, only after the conversation about Ben turned into a discussion of Laura and Alice. Y/N wondered if she was losing it or if she had detected a jealous spark in his eyes when she was talking about her friends– or perhaps it was something else entirely, Taehyung could definitely be difficult to read at times. Shortly after Taehyung left, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jimin cleared out similarly to get showered and dressed, each of them scrambling from the room like they saw the Babadook.

“I think we’ve done everything we can until people arrive,” Yoongi announced, skimming a palm over the sparkling granite Y/N had finished wiping down, all of their hard work either chilling in the fridge or gently simmering away on the stove. “What’s everyone else bringing?”

“My dad makes a ‘famous’ mac and cheese– it’s very good, but don’t say anything, it gets to his head. My parents will bring the meats and the black bean burgers for the grill, too. Laura and Alice have this family sangria recipe that they always make for the cookout, but I’m warning you now. Don’t have more than two glasses,” Y/N shook her finger at Seokjin, who definitely had a weakness for wine-based cocktails. “Sal’s family will bring some pizza or ziti, the neighbors usually bring wine. Oh, and Ben ordered a ton of cupcakes.”

“Okay, so nothing we already made… that’s good,” Yoongi leaned against the refrigerator, his face flushed. It must have been from standing over the stove for so long, laboring over a giant batch of the most delicious mashed potatoes Y/N ever tasted.

“How long does this… thing usually last?” Jeongguk asked somewhat indelicately, pushing up the sleeves of his sleep shirt to his elbows, Y/N once again trying to make out the forms inked onto his skin. She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to look at them more closely.

“Well, it goes on until nightfall, and for a while after that,” Y/N met Jeongguk’s dark eyes, the sweet rounded shape of them contradicting his entire demeanor. “You don’t have to be around for the entire thing, at all, you can hang out and watch movies in the parlor if you want. Just grab some food, and maybe say hi to a few people… I’m not going to force you to be out there all night or anything.”

Seokjin grimaced as she spoke, shooting the elk hybrid a reproachful look. At that point, Y/N was more than used to Jeongguk’s cynical way of speaking, truly unfazed by it, especially with the toothpaste stain he was sporting on his sleep shirt. Besides, Jeongguk’s question didn’t really bother her. The last thing Y/N wanted was any of the hybrids to feel pressured into doing something they didn’t want to, no matter what. Whether she could find the words to express that in a future conversation was another story entirely.

“Okay… I guess I’ll just see how it goes,” Jeongguk muttered, pushing himself off of his barstool with a grunt, his forearms flexing as he used the granite countertop as a brace. “See you in a bit, then,” he added, a touch more gently as he locked eyes with Y/N a final time before he left the room.

“Insufferable kid,” Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, one of his ears twitching in annoyance as he watched the elk hybrid slink away. “Every time he opens his mouth, I’m worried you’re going to start throwing punches, Yoongi.”

Darkly chuckling by the fridge, Yoongi used his shirtsleeve to dab at his dewy hairline, Y/N beginning to grow concerned that he was coming down with a fever with how pink his cheeks were.

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Yoongi sighed, earning a snort of laughter from Seokjin as the latter began to get up from his seat. “It’s a shame, too. We’d match up pretty well in a fight.”

“I’d prefer if we kept the fighting to a minimum,” Y/N placed her hands on her hips as she walked the two hybrids to the staircase, Seokjin’s thick lower lip jutting out into a pout. “I’d hate to have to patch up those pretty faces of yours.”

“Y-you!” Seokjin choked, tripping over his own foot trying to ascend the first step, his tail going ramrod straight in surprise. “You–”

“I’d say the chances of an actual fight breaking out are slim to none, so you don’t have to worry about our ‘pretty faces’,” Yoongi cut Seokjin off abruptly, lightly shoving the jaguar hybrid up a few steps so he could ascend them as well. “Give me a half hour, and I’ll meet you at the piano, silly girl.”

Tutting at Yoongi’s preferred nickname for her, Y/N watched the two hybrids hurry up the stairs, Yoongi nudging the still-reeling Seokjin along with gritted teeth. The leopard hybrid was certainly feisty that morning, Y/N wondering if the late nights and early mornings were getting to him, or if anticipation for the cookout was setting him on edge– or as she had speculated at the mall the previous day, he was beginning to feel the discomfort of not yet scenting her. Worrying her lip with her teeth, Y/N tried not to read into it too much, remembering that Yoongi had promised her he’d tell her when he’d need to scent. Shaking her head, Y/N began to head upstairs herself so she could take a few moments to herself in the music room.

Y/N spent some time organizing the chaos in the music room, sliding vinyls into a shelf neatly when she found them strewn around the table with the dusty record player. She discovered that Taehyung had made a trip to the garage to check out her uncle’s old records, after all– tucking a frayed Pink Floyd album into place with a small smile. From down the hall, she could hear Seokjin singing in the shower, his voice deep and sweet.

Perching on the worn leather sofa by the record player, Y/N scrolled on her phone for a bit, deciding to take a few minutes to do some more investigating on scenting. This time, she went on a forum, those who posted on it being hybrid owners, experts, and researchers. Finding the drop-down menu, she scanned through multiple topics: predator hybrids, understanding behavior by species, scenting– bingo. A rather long post was pinned to the top of the page once she tapped on it, written by a person who studied hybrid behavior.

Many new hybrid owners often ask the question: what exactly is scenting, and why do hybrids do it? The answer to the second query is not clear as of yet, though there have been several theories. Scenting itself is the act of a hybrid displaying a sense of ownership over their adoptive human. Depending on species, the hybrid will likely initiate the act of scenting within days, sometimes hours, within their adoption. In some cases, hybrids ignore their urges to scent their adoptive human for a multitude of reasons; the most common is the fear of being abandoned after the scenting process, as many hybrids are returned to shelters for not living up to expectations for people unfit to adopt hybrids in the first place.

If a hybrid ignores the instinct to scent for too long, it will affect them physically. First, behavior becomes agitated, quick-tempered, and the hybrid will display jealousy towards others around their adoptive human. Other hybrids may become increasingly clingy, seeking out physical contact whenever possible. Second, the hybrid will begin to feel ill, the symptoms ranging from a feverish temperature, intense headache, and decreased control over their strength. It is important to monitor these kinds of reactions in your hybrid, as the discomfort can become dangerously overwhelming for them.

The act of scenting allows the hybrid to “claim” their adoptive human. Hybrids have incredible olfactory senses, and will become extremely sensitive to their adoptive human’s scent. When the hybrid scents, they often search for a spot on their human where the scent is most concentrated– the neck and wrists, for example. The actual ritual includes a bite, usually painful for a moment, before it is soothed by an enzyme in the composition of the hybrid’s saliva and the mark will become painless almost immediately.

Hybrid canine teeth coat themselves with yet another enzyme once the skin of the human is punctured, which enters the bloodstream, which is the true purpose of scenting. This particular enzyme will live in the bloodstream of the human for a certain amount of time, infusing the human’s scent with the hybrid’s. While the mark is soothed and healed by the enzyme in the saliva, the enzyme coating the hybrid’s teeth is the one that does the actual scenting. After soothed, the mark will become painless. After a stretch of time (length of time depends on species), the ritual will have to be repeated.

Often, I receive questions about the sensation humans experience during the ritual of scenting. The sensation is most commonly described as euphoric, leaving the human giddy and their muscles becoming lax. The soothing enzymes in both the hybrid’s saliva and the coating of their teeth are both to blame for this. I am led to believe, based on my research of hybrids the past forty years, that the enzymes attempt to calm the human’s natural fight or flight instinct. It would only be natural for a human being to withdraw from such a ritual, so I believe that this is an evolutionary result in hybrids to set their humans at ease. The sensation is harmless, and wears off after several minutes.

“What are you reading?” Yoongi’s gravelly voice frightened her enough to flinch upwards to her feet, dropping her phone on the leather couch with a flop. “Whatever it is, I’ve never seen you so concentrated.”

The leopard hybrid was leaning against the threshold into the room, eyeing her with mild interest, the damp strands of his long black hair neatly combed back. He was wearing a brand-new outfit; a satiny black button down patterned with red roses, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of black slacks, and shiny, new black loafers. It was unbelievable how good he looked, Y/N getting the feeling he knew it, too, with the cocky arch to one of his brows.

“Just some article!” Y/N blurted, smoothing the skirt of her dress down nervously, watching Yoongi stifle a chuckle as he made his way towards the grand piano, spotted tail curling languidly behind him.

As he got closer, Y/N noted that his cheeks still had a pinkish tint to them. She watched, rooted to her spot, as Yoongi placidly lifted the fallboard to reveal the sepia toned-keys on the ancient piano. His elegant fingertips skimmed the ivory with reverence, Y/N almost feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

“Let’s get started,” Yoongi began, tucking a stray lock of his hair behind his ear that had fallen onto his cheek. “Come here, take a seat,” Yoongi motioned towards the piano bench with two fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, settling himself on the edge of it.

Shyly, Y/N joined him, trying to give him enough space on the bench as she sat beside him, the warmth of his leg through his pants as it pressed against hers sending goosebumps over the bare skin of her thigh. Apparently unaffected, Yoongi began to flip through pages of the beginner’s book he purchased at the music store, eyebrows pulled together in contemplation. Nervously, Y/N twiddled her thumbs in her lap, praying that she wouldn’t totally suck and let Yoongi down.

“Here, we’ll do this one first,” Yoongi nestled the booklet on the shelf above the keys, Y/N curiously scanning the page before scoffing in disbelief.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? Seriously?” Y/N whined, Yoongi snickering at her bewilderment.

“What, did you think we were going to start with Chopin? I’ve gotta establish a baseline with you somehow,” Yoongi replied, his right hand moving to play the simple, short melody.

“Fine, so how do I play it?” Y/N studied the way his fingers danced on the keys, trying to memorize the sequence at which he pressed down on them. Humming, Yoongi pointed to a particular key.

“This is what we call ‘Middle C’. Think of it as the halfway point between the higher and lower notes on the piano. The song starts with two C notes. Go ahead and hit them,” Yoongi requested, an encouraging expression on his flushed face.

Doing as she was told, Y/N cringed as her fingers plunked the key a little too harshly, making Yoongi flinch into her shoulder with a hiss. Shaking his head, Yoongi placed his hand over hers, using his index finger to apply the correct pressure to use.

“The keys are weighted. The more pressure you apply, the louder the sound. You don’t have to hammer down onto the keys, unless the score calls for it,” Yoongi explained patiently, a tone of amusement coloring his raspy voice.

“How will I be able to tell? Sheet music looks like hieroglyphics,” Y/N felt Yoongi draw his hand away, staring at him with exasperation. She didn’t expect to be such an impatient student, but Yoongi was a more than obliging teacher– he didn’t seem to mind her brattiness.

“You’ll learn, not today though. If we can get through this melody, I’ll teach you some music theory next week,” Yoongi murmured, scanning the pout on her face thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s keep going. The next note is G.”

For about half an hour, forbearing Yoongi answered Y/N’s every question, demonstrated how to play the melody over and over, and even indulged her request to play a favorite tune of hers. Eventually, Y/N could play the melody all the way through, albeit a tad clumsily. The first time she finished the song without mistake, she was nearly vibrating with excitement, Yoongi passed his hand over her back with pride, squeezing her shoulder with a grin on his face.

“Against all odds, I did it!” Y/N leaned into Yoongi, practically ready to throw her arms around him for being patient enough to teach her.

“You did, I’m very proud of you. You’re an exemplary student,” Yoongi declared, Y/N clocking the sweat that began to dew around his hairline, and the way his arm had moved down to encircle her waist firmly. Feverish. Clingy.

“Don’t butter me up too much, Yoongi. What if I get lazy and don’t practice enough because you’re too easy on me?” Y/N leveled her face close to the leopard hybrid’s, his pupils dilating from her proximity, throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. Assessing him, she continued gently. “Yoongi… are you okay? You’ve been flushed all morning.”

He didn’t answer, holding intense eye contact as Y/N moved her hand to brush hair out of his face, using the back of her hand to press against his forehead to check his temperature. Exhaling through her teeth sharply, his flesh practically sizzled under her touch, Yoongi’s eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. In the back of her mind, she knew what was wrong with him, an animalistic noise beginning to rumble from the back of the leopard hybrid’s throat. Y/N was spellbound by how her touch affected him, the grip he had around her lower waist tightening as his fingertips wound themselves into the fabric of her sundress, appearing to make an attempt at controlling his breathing pattern.

“I–” Yoongi’s hoarse voice shot a lightning bolt through her, his free hand reaching up to snatch her wrist before she could pull it away, his eyes snapping open. Freezing, Y/N felt her own eyes widen, his grip delicate but unyielding. “I know you know. You’ve been eyeing me like that all morning… yesterday, too.”

A light gasp escaped her lips as Yoongi adjusted his grip, closing his eyes once more to run the tip of his nose against the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist. He shuddered, pulling her flush into his arms as he inhaled deeply, Y/N’s wrist limp in his hand as she processed his words dripping with meaning. She practically melted in his embrace, something sounding close to a purr coming from Yoongi’s chest as she found herself bracing her uncaptured hand on his thigh.

“You n-need to–” Y/N began, stiffening as she felt the soft petals of Yoongi’s lips brush over her pulse point, the skin tingling in response, unable to break away from his lidded gaze.

“You smell so good,” Yoongi groaned softly, nuzzling her wrist against his face distractedly. Stomach flipping over, Y/N felt her knees turn to jelly, thankful that she was seated and supported upright in Yoongi’s arms. “Hell. ‘s driving me crazy.”

Her breath began to quicken, barely recognizing the dangerous look in Yoongi’s hazel eyes as his lips brushed her skin with every word. Gripping his thigh with urgency, Y/N pressed her wrist closer to his mouth eagerly, feeling utterly possessed as her heart hammered around in her chest. A dark chuckle coming from the leopard hybrid had a shiver rolling down her spine.

“Yoongi,” Y/N heard herself whine as if she was a third party looking on, anticipation filling every cell of her body. At the sound of his name, Yoongi moved his hand from her waist to cradle her cheek, cooing at her.

“I know, sweetheart. It’ll only hurt for a second,” he whispered, Y/N leaning into his rough palm as she felt the hot brush of his tongue lave over her pulse, sending her heart rate galloping.

Discovering it impossible to tear her eyes away from the leopard hybrid’s attention on her wrist, Y/N held her breath as Yoongi pressed an open-mouth kiss to the tender area, once again moving his hand away from her cheek and back to around her middle. It was almost all too much, his tail mindlessly curling around her lower back as he gently traced his incisors over her skin. Still, she was reeling from the pet name he used on her, even as he started to quiver with the heady concentration of her scent overwhelming his senses.

As his sharp teeth pierced her skin, more gently than Namjoon or Seokjin had done so, Y/N still couldn’t stop the small yelp from escaping her lips at the sting. Protectively, both Yoongi’s arm and tail curled tighter around her waist. Y/N became completely boneless, her body sagging into Yoongi’s chest as the cloudy haze descended onto her. Dazedly, she watched a drop of her blood dribble down the length of her wrist, Yoongi pulling his teeth from her skin urgently to collect the trail of blood with a drag of his tongue. It was almost erotic, watching him shiver with relief as he soothed the aching bite with a series of soft kisses and small swipes of his tongue, Y/N trying her best to squash down the thought as best as she could while her head began to swim.

Sighing dreamily, Y/N closed her eyes as Yoongi’s grip on her wrist softened, the feeling of either his eyelashes or the tips of his hair tickling the fresh, painless bite. With his slackened grip, Y/N felt herself free to move, curling herself further into Yoongi, loopily threading her arms around his waist once he freed her wrist, nuzzling her face into his collarbone. His chest vibrating with a soft purr, Yoongi allowed Y/N to hug him in her delirious state, using one hand to card through her hair fondly.

“Take it easy for a minute to come down, sweetheart,” Yoongi murmured against her hair, Y/N giggling as she pressed her cheek into the satiny fabric of his button down. He smelled sweet, like vanilla and cloves. “I tried to be gentle… I don’t think you’ll bruise.”

“Hmm… that’s okay even if I do. You were gentle,” Y/N limply attempted to lift her head from her chest, not wanting to make the leopard hybrid uncomfortable with her prolonged clinging.

Still feeling dizzy, Y/N used the piano as a brace, three clashing notes ringing out as her palm pressed into the keys, snapping Yoongi out of his reverie of twisting a lock of her hair around his index finger. He wasn’t flushed anymore, the crease between his eyebrows that had appeared 24 hours ago gone completely. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Y/N broke eye contact, pulling the cover over the piano keys to prevent herself from smashing any more keys in her slight stupor.

“Come on, I’ll help you downstairs. There’s a few more things you wanted to do before people arrive, no?” Yoongi urged, getting to his feet with one of his hands stretched out towards her. Taking his hand shakily, Y/N allowed him to pull her up and support some of her weight with his arm slung around her upper back.

“Mmm, yeah. Gotta set the table, start up the fire, turn on the backyard lights,” Y/N slurred, descending the stairs at a snail’s pace with Yoongi’s assistance. “But the cooking is done. Thank you for helping so much. You really are quite the chef.”

Yoongi belly laughed, his eyes scrunched up in half-moons as he led her down the last step, arm sliding from her body as she became more stable on her feet. Thankfully, she had regained feeling in her knees, though now that she had a clearer head, looking Yoongi in the eye was difficult. A wave of bashfulness washed over her, Yoongi seeming to sense it as he smiled at her softly, linking his pinky finger with hers to pull her to the kitchen.

“Oh, what did you two get up to?” Hoseok was coming in from outside at the kitchen slider, the plastic wrapper of the tablecloth Y/N got at the grocery store crumpled up in one of his fists, his eyes narrowing at Yoongi.

“Don’t ruin my good mood, Foxy. Did you put out that tablecloth?” Yoongi broke the link of their fingers, making his way to the glass slider to peer outside. Hoseok frowned at Yoongi, one of his ears twitching with agitation.

Hoseok looked fantastic, somehow pulling off a colorful aquamarine Hawaiian short-sleeved button down and white shorts, his shirt hanging loose to reveal a white tank top under it. Almost immediately, his chocolatey eyes focused on Y/N’s wrist as she approached him to peek outside, Y/N pretending not to notice as the fox hybrid stared at Yoongi’s mark.

Outside, Jimin and Namjoon were busy carefully placing cutlery on the long wooden picnic table, the string lights already illuminated. The grill was on, waves of heat coming off of it and tools placed on the side burner. And by the firepit, Taehyung in his outfit he picked out yesterday was prodding at the beginnings of a bonfire with an iron stake, adding a split log with practiced ease.

“Wow, you guys did everything! What did I do to deserve you all, seriously,” Y/N exclaimed, genuinely taken aback with the sheer amount of work all of them did to help her host a party with many guests they hadn’t even met yet. “Ah, we’re going to have so much fun. I’m going to fill up that old tin basin out there with ice for the beer and seltzers.”

Both hybrids beside her had gone stoically silent with the first half of her statement, appearing a touch taken aback. Tearing her eyes from Jimin, clad in a pair of very well-fitting blue jeans, Y/N attempted to make haste to the freezer for the ice bags, Hoseok promptly catching the crook of her elbow.

“Way ahead of you. I already took care of it,” Hoseok cocked his head, his dimples appearing cutely when he grinned at her. “You know, while you were tackling the complicated melody of Twinkle Twinkle.”

“Hey! I tried my best, Hoseok,” Y/N lightly shoved Hoseok with her hand on his forearm, finding it impossible to be insulted. She was beginning to think that Hoseok could read her mind, or at the very least he shared a brain cell with her. His humor was something she genuinely enjoyed, reminding her of Ben in many ways. “Thanks, by the way. I guess I should ask what else should be done, even though it seems you all have it under control.”

“What time is it, anyways?” Y/N wondered, checking her watch distractedly. Shit. “Christ almighty. We have like forty minutes!” “Relax, darling. Almost everything has been taken care of, we’re just waiting on the two still primping upstairs. Want a drink, or something?” Hoseok strolled over to the island, where someone had set up a sort of DIY cocktail bar. “How about a French 75? First cocktail I ever learned to make. Although, it might not match up to Yoongi’s bartending skills.”

Yoongi scoffed from beside Y/N, rolling his eyes peevishly. Giving Y/N a squeeze on her shoulder, Yoongi slid the glass door open to head outside, scooping a Budweiser out of the ice bucket on the patio before checking on the grill. Jumping as she heard the loud pop of Hoseok uncorking a champagne bottle, Y/N brushed it off as she skipped over to the fox hybrid.

“Okay, I’ll have one, but only if you have one too,” Y/N helpfully placed two fluted glasses in front of the fox hybrid, his shoulders shaking with amusement. “It’ll take the edge off. Don’t let my mother corner you tonight, I’m worried she’ll scare you away.”

Hoseok’s hands stilled while he was peeling a twist of lemon with a knife, staring at her incredulously. One of the traditions of the annual cookout was her mother pulling out tarot and oracle cards by the fire, guests able to get small readings from her if they wished. Y/N’s fear was that one of the hybrids would get trapped into a reading, especially if both their and her mother’s inhibitions would be lowered by the flowing alcohol. The last thing she wanted was her mother creeping them out with her startlingly accurate predictions.

“Your mom is sweet,” Hoseok replied simply, vigorously shaking the metal cocktail shaker. “It’ll take a lot more than her telling me about your awkward teenage years to scare me away.”

“Hoseok! You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?” Y/N exclaimed, refraining from smacking him on the arm with a scowl as he strained the liquor into the flutes.

“Just a little. You make it too easy,” Hoseok topped off each cocktail with champagne and his lemon twists, gently handing her one of the glasses with a sly smirk. “Cheers!”

Muttering, Y/N clinked her glass with his, watching him take a small sip with narrowed eyes. The drink was sweet and refreshing as it hit her taste buds; perfectly balanced. She found it easy to forgive his teasing.

“Okay, let’s bring these outside. I’m going to set up the lawn games, unless that’s been taken care of too,” Y/N dragged Hoseok by the elbow to the slider, the fox hybrid playfully putting up a bit of resistance as she towed him to the door.

The lawn games had not been set up yet by the hybrids, much to her relief. With a task she could finally accomplish on her own, Y/N let Hoseok and Jimin follow her into the rickety garage for the bin containing everything she’d need. Sneezing upon entry to the dusty building, Y/N fumbled her way through the darkness to yank on the metal chain attached to an ancient lightbulb, illuminating the space with amber glow. Distantly, she contemplated whether or not hybrids had some kind of night vision as many animals did, considering none of them bothered to turn on any lights while they dragged furniture out of the garage all day.

The French 75 coursed through her bloodstream potently as she stacked hand-stitched bean bags beside a weathered cornhole board on the lawn, listening to a playlist she had sent Hoseok to stream onto the outdoor speakers. She was beginning to feel jittery knowing that people were going to be arriving any moment, even though everything was in place exactly how she pictured. Earlier in the week, she couldn’t have imagined that she’d be in such a good position; plagued by worries about the hybrids getting along, tasks being forgotten. Y/N didn’t know if her seven hybrids were putting on a front to help her out with the event or avoiding conflict between each other, but regardless she had never felt more excited to introduce them to the circle of her closest loved ones and friends. Truly, she believed the event would further loosen them up, and maybe break down some of the walls most of them had put up– not that she could blame them.

“Are we the first ones here? Oh, Y/N, help Grandmother,” Y/N’s mother made her grand entrance from the backyard gate propped open by Taehyung, with her father and grandparents in tow. Her mother was in a whimsical, drapey maxi dress, her willowy elbow interlocked with Y/N’s grandmother’s.

“Grandmother, I’m so happy you’re here,” Y/N rushed to the tiny elderly woman’s side, genuinely tearing up at the sight of her– in the backyard of the home she once commanded.

Y/N hadn’t seen much of her grandparents for the past month, an uptick of emergencies at the animal hospital preventing her from making visitations with them at her parent’s house. Her grandmother, a woman of incredible wit and strength, was amongst Y/N’s favorite people. While she was quite old, age never dimmed her brilliance, her round eyes brimming with that probing all-knowing. Y/N could only assume that her mother had filled her grandparents in on her adoptions after their excursion at the shops on Wednesday, as neither of them seemed jarred at the sight of seven hybrids milling around the backyard awkwardly.

Hooking her elbow with her grandmother’s, she happily received a kiss on her cheek from her easy-going grandfather, watching her mother and father hurry towards the kitchen slider with their bags full of provisions. Promptly, Jimin sprung into action, relieving her father of two bags as they stepped into the house. Her mother trailed behind more slowly, Seokjin approaching her hurriedly to grab her woven purse hanging from her wrist precariously. The jaguar hybrid looked positively heavenly, like a Jane Austen hero in his loose-fitting white button down and straight leg black slacks, grinning at her mother politely.

“So, these are the hybrids you’ve adopted, my dear. All men?” Her grandmother murmured slowly, Y/N grimacing as she caught Namjoon’s eyes by the picnic table, his long fingers poised between leaflets of the pages of Wuthering Heights.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother… I should have told you sooner,” Y/N felt her cheek burn in both shame and embarrassment, aware that her hybrids could hear every utterance. “It all happened so quickly, but I think you’ll like them all once you get to know them.”

Snickering throatily, her grandmother sat comfortably in a cushioned lawn chair with Y/N’s help, her spry grandfather wandered off nearby to check on his clump of rose bushes he had planted beneath Namjoon’s bedroom window decades ago. Pulling her light blue cardigan tightly around her body, her grandmother grasped Y/N’s hand with purpose.

“The house looks very nice. You’re caring for it well, my love,” her grandmother remarked, stroking the back of Y/N’s hand with a weathered thumb. “It’s about time all those bedrooms got some use again.”

“I agree. It’s been a long time since the house has been this lively,” Y/N smiled softly, smelling her grandfather’s minty aftershave as he settled into a chair beside her grandmother, his white handlebar mustache curling up when he grinned at her benignly. “Can I get you two a drink? The usual?”

“WhistlePig?” Her grandfather brightened up, grasping a hold of her grandmother’s hand.

“I picked some up yesterday,” Y/N winked, straightening up. “You haven’t met him yet, but one of the hybrids, Jimin, loved that bottle of Farmstock Rye you brought on the 4th. I got a few more bottles of it just for you two.”

“Very good, my dear. You send that Jimin my way, he sounds like an alright fellow,” her grandfather rasped in response, Y/N spiriting away to make her grandparents drinks quickly, knowing that more people would be arriving at any moment.

“Now, Seokjin, dear… do you like to read? I host a book club with hybrids at the Boston Public Library bi-weekly! Sweet Namjoon has been a part of the club for a couple of months, so you’d already have someone you know there. The next meeting is on Monday, you’re more than welcome to join, We’ll be starting a new book the meeting after next,” her mother rambled while pouring a healthy glass of white wine for herself and the jaguar hybrid, while her father and Jimin nursed bottles of Budweiser as they slid packages of hamburgers into the fridge.

“Yes, ma’am, I love reading. Is it really okay to join the book club? Will I be behind?” Seokjin replied somewhat timidly, gingerly accepting his glass of wine as he caught sight of Y/N standing nearby mixing up a gin martini.

“Of course it’s alright, sweetheart. You won’t be behind at all! Our meeting Monday will be to discuss the book we finished, and you can get a feel for how the club is set up. If you enjoy yourself, you can check out a copy of the next book we’ll read for the following meeting and you can truly participate next time,” her mother explained, Y/N marveling at how much of a liking her mother had taken to Seokjin. Truthfully, Y/N thought the book club would be a good thing for Seokjin; an opportunity to make friends and perhaps get closer to Namjoon.

“If you’re up to it, Jin, I’ll drive you into the city with Namjoon on Monday. The three of us could pick up dinner takeout afterwards,” Y/N added, her mother perking up with Y/N’s encouragement. Seokjin’s cheeks rounded out with his small grin, his tail curling around behind him in response to all of the attention.

“Okay, that sounds nice,” Seokjin agreed shyly, sipping his wine with a pleased expression. He was really too sweet for his own good, Y/N thought.

“Oh, you’re going to restore that old stable? I wish I had better carpentry skills, I could give you a hand, Jimin.” Y/N heard her father lament, the coyote hybrid shaking his head with his signature heart-stopping smile.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I’ve done a fair share of work on stables before. Not much needs to be done in order to have it suitable for boarding,” Jimin leaned back on the countertop by the fridge, Y/N’s eye catching a bright glint from the gold belt buckle threaded through the loops of his blue jeans.

He was wearing a simple sky blue fitted tee shirt, tucked into his jeans and showing off his lean figure. Trying not to stare, Y/N tore her eyes from the coyote hybrid’s form, balancing the two drinks in her hands. From outside, she heard her grandfather exclaim in delight, cutting off both of her parents' separate conversations with Jimin and Seokjin so they could peer out the window. Where her grandparents were seated by the firepit, Taehyung had added more wood to the dying bonfire, grinning ear to ear as her grandfather clapped with glee.

Startled that Taehyung had taken it upon himself to introduce himself to her grandparents, as he was usually so avoidant when it came to speaking to people other than Y/N herself, Y/N made a beeline outside with the drinks so she could witness the spectacle. On her heels, Seokjin trailed after her, ditching Jimin in the kitchen with her parents. Y/N had the feeling the coyote hybrid could hold his own against them.

Taehyung, kneeling beside her grandmother and poking the bonfire with an iron rod, was nodding along with something she was saying, Y/N unable to process the words as she approached the clump of chairs. Gingerly, she handed her grandfather his tumbler of whiskey, the large ice cube clinking around in the cup as he took it with a shaky hand. Placing her grandmother’s gin martini on the table beside her, Y/N cocked her head at Taehyung, who blinked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“So you’ve met Taehyung,” Y/N raised her voice a decibel to accommodate her grandfather’s dim hearing, giving Seokjin an appreciative rub on his arm as he appeared at her side with an open can of vodka seltzer for her. “This is Seokjin!”

“What did you say? Tae-hyung? The young man introduced himself as Tae,” her grandfather croaked loudly, confusion coloring his face. Snorting, Y/N felt her insides warm, Taehyung looking at the ground bashfully as her grandfather repeated his nickname. “Nice to meet you, Seokjin, why don’t you take a seat, son.”

Cheeks red, Seokjin obediently plopped down in a chair beside her grandfather, tracing his fingertips over the condensation coating his wine glass. Taking a sip of her seltzer, Y/N scanned the immediate area, spotting Jeongguk at the edges of the untrimmed hedges smoking, his hair slicked back with the new gel and predictably dressed in all-black. Squinting, Y/N made out the material of the complicated pants he had on, straps circling his legs; was that leather? Thinking it was far too hot to be wearing leather, Y/N smirked, perching herself on the armrest of Seokjin’s chair.

Hoseok was filling up a second basin with ice he had located in the garage by the picnic table, apparently having an urgent conversation with Yoongi as the leopard hybrid placidly handed him bottles of Corona from a box set on the table. Again, Y/N wondered where Namjoon had wound up, not able to locate him in the vicinity.

Feeling Seokjin flinch behind her before actually hearing a familiar car honk, Y/N got to her feet, knowing it was Sal and his family, getting ready to haul trays of ziti into the house.

“Dear, is that Sal? Was little Tony coming this year?” Her grandmother perked up, directing her attention to the gate into the backyard.

“Yeah, he said he could make it. Though, he’s not little anymore, Grandmother, Tony’s in high school now. He’s on the football team,” Y/N explained, grasping Seokjin’s hand to drag him to the gate for assistance, motioning Taehyung to follow as well.

Making a noise of surprise, Seokjin swiftly set his wine glass down before she could pull him away, adjusting his grip so he could intertwine his fingers with Y/N’s, the action triggering butterflies to flutter around in her stomach. His thumb skimmed Yoongi’s mark accidentally, a strange tingle shooting up from her wrist to her elbow. Taehyung unlatched the gate, Y/N inspecting the slightly excited expression that had appeared on his face. Y/N was hoping Taehyung could become friends with Anthony, considering he hadn’t quite warmed up to any of the other hybrids enough yet.

“Oy, give us a hand here, Y/N?” Angie called, standing by the back of the van with a big stack of foil trays. Hurrying to her aid, Y/N let go of Seokjin with a touch of remorse. “Pretty dress, hun. So happy to be here.”

Angie made air-kissing sounds as Y/N took a couple of the trays from her, Y/N quickly introduced the two hybrids to Angie, Sal Jr., and Sal himself as they handed them tray after tray. The passenger door of the van swung open, Anthony hauling himself out while precariously balancing a large box of what Y/N presumed to be cannolis.

“Hey Tae, man! How you doin’?” Anthony greeted the Kodiak hybrid, after he smoothly said hello to Y/N with a cute kiss on her cheek. “Sick outfit, bro.”

“Thanks, you too,” Taehyung replied, his tone on the side of unsure. Anthony always dressed well off the clock, though Y/N thought the kid took a little too much inspiration from The Sopranos with the colorful striped button downs.

With equal excitement, Anthony began to introduce himself to Seokjin while the clump of people filed into the backyard, Y/N grateful that Anthony now had so many guys to chat with during the cookout. In years past, there were often a larger number of women at the cookout in comparison to young men, mostly her mother’s friends.

After carting all of the food from Sal into the house, things had already become pretty noisy with the Italian family’s arrival. It set her at ease now that the attention wasn’t entirely focused on her own family, thankful that they had shown up and breathed life into the afternoon. Finally, she had located Namjoon: he was sitting in the grass under a large tree beside the picnic table, though hidden from view from others in the backyard. Breaking away from Taehyung and Seokjin for a few moments as they were preoccupied with whatever Anthony was explaining to them with wild hand gestures, Y/N made her way to the wolf hybrid once she had spotted the silvery fur of his tail beside the tree.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Y/N blurted, as Namjoon immediately put his book down upon hearing her approach, his eyebrows raised in expectation. “Just checking on you. Here.”

Wordlessly, Namjoon accepted a Corona from her, Y/N purposefully picking out a lighter beer for the wolf hybrid. He looked impossibly handsome, with hunter green drawstring pants and a tan short-sleeved shirt with tortoiseshell buttons clasping them shut, his moonlight hair swept off his forehead and the sun reflecting the iridescence of the strands. Carefully, Y/N lowered herself down beside him, noting the way he stiffened a degree at her proximity, watching her peer down at the open book on his lap. He was almost finished with Wuthering Heights, Y/N registered as she took a sip of her seltzer.

“What do you think about the book?” Y/N attempted to initiate conversation once more, quite frankly sick of not being able to speak with him like she could before. She could only pray that he responded, as he popped the cap off of the beer and sniffed it with mild interest. Several emotions played across his features, Y/N almost able to see him sorting through his thoughts.

“Hmm… I remember your mother saying it's one of your favorites, correct?” Namjoon murmured, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a sip contemplatively.

“That’s right. You won’t offend me if you hate it, if that’s why you seem so torn,” Y/N giggled, biting her lip as she brushed off an inchworm that was mapping a path up Namjoon’s forearm. “I’ve been missing your insight on things.”

Y/N admitted the last part of her sentence nonchalantly, though she was surprised she was able to confess that so easily. Namjoon was startled, either by her words or the fact that she’d touched him, fiddling with the pages of the book as he processed.

“It’s not that I hate it. The characters, Cathy, Heathcliff, they’re all insufferable, sure. The whole time I’ve been reading it, I was struggling to understand why you like it so much,” Namjoon answered after a few moments, Y/N nearly fainting with relief that he was actually speaking to her with more than just a short, forced sentence.

“Well, it’s just that. None of the characters are particularly likable, Nelly as the narrator is incredibly biased, following the timelines can be confusing especially because there are two Cathys. I think that for a young woman to write a book so vulgar and brutal all those years ago is an impressive feat. The inherent darkness of the story is what hooked me in the first place, and it keeps me coming back. I’ve probably read it five times over the years,” Y/N attempted to sum up her reasoning for loving Emily Bronte’s masterpiece, but found it difficult with Namjoon’s rapt attention on her face while she spoke.

“So you like stories with darker subject matter,” Namjoon mused, seeming to recover from her earlier comment. “It’s beautifully written, I just didn’t expect so much moral corruption from the characters. I’ve read Jane Eyre by Emily’s sister, which has its fair shares of thematic shock and darkness, so I half-expected this novel to be similar. I was pleasantly surprised, I’ve never read anything like this.”

Delighted, Y/N gave Namjoon the brightest smile she could muster, thrilled to have someone she now lived with to discuss some of her favorite novels. Eyes widening a fracture at her enthused reaction to his words, Namjoon took a swig of his drink, diverting his eyes back to the pages.

“They made a decent Jane Eyre movie adaptation back in 2011. We could watch it sometime, if you’re interested,” Y/N offered, beyond pleased that he was speaking to her again.

It was like she had entered a little bubble with just her and Namjoon in it, the chaos of the cookout behind her temporarily forgotten. She was taken aback further when Namjoon nodded and chuckled airly, a dimple appearing in his cheek with her idea. Resisting the urge to poke the crater in his cheek, Y/N giggled with him, taking his response as agreement. A cool breeze rolled by, ruffling Namjoon’s silky hair and carrying the scent of honey with it. He stopped laughing when his bitten ear fluttered, leaning forward to look over Y/N’s shoulder curiously.

“I think more of your guests have arrived,” He whispered due to his close proximity, Y/N able to feel the heat coming off of his body.

Straightening up, Y/N could hear the babbling of a child’s voice from the driveway, suspecting Ben and his family were about to join them. Wobbly, she got to her feet, Namjoon peering up with her with an expression softer than he had afforded her in days. With a happy sigh, Y/N extended her hand to help Namjoon up, the wolf hybrid tentatively sliding his palm against her’s, standing up to his full height with ease.

“Could you come with me and help out with getting all of the cupcake boxes out of Ben’s car please? You can go right back to reading after, promise,” Y/N asked, releasing his hand as soon as he had his footing.

“Sure. I think I’ll save the ending for tomorrow,” Namjoon acquiesced, his dimples still indenting his cheeks cutely. While Y/N was learning that Namjoon could be moody, she didn’t mind, especially if she got to see those dimples every now and again.

“Jesus, Y/N. You really don’t realize what seven hybrids look like until you see them all clumped together back here,” Ben muttered in Y/N’s ear, setting a bag filled with children’s toys down on the grass by the kiddie pool.

After a slightly awkward exchange between Ben, Namjoon and herself hauling boxes of cupcakes into the garage refrigerator, Ben assuming his stony lawyer disposition and Namjoon being his usual chilly self, Namjoon had escaped to get himself another beer while Y/N and Ben caught up for a moment. Roy, who had broken up the awkward tension a degree by parading Daisy around on his hip, was introducing the little rabbit hybrid to enthusiastic Hoseok and Jimin, the former who was talking to her in a silly voice.

“Yeah, there’s quite a few of them, each of them special in their own ways,” Y/N leaned into Ben’s side, grateful that he seemed to be so tame that day. Tutting, Ben pointed across the yard at Jeongguk reading something in his journal, drinking from a Red Solo cup with a cigarette burning between the fingertips grasping the glass.

“I’ve never even seen an elk hybrid, who was that again? He looks like a manager at Hot Topic,” Ben remarked, a hand on his hip.

“Hush, Ben, I don’t want you ticking any of them off,” Y/N managed, though it was incredibly difficult to stifle a laugh crawling up her throat. “That’s Jeongguk, the youngest.”

“Okay, well so far I like the two being nice to my daughter. That wolf hybrid was a little, uh. Unfriendly,” Ben scratched his close-cut red beard, squinting at Namjoon shuffling towards Yoongi for a word.

“He’s not. They’ve all been through a lot, I think it’s only natural for them to have cautionary walls up,” Y/N reminded Ben, watching him swirl his cocktail around in his glass.

“Look at you, Y/N! I feel like you’ve finally matured in a matter of a week, maybe this was a good thing for you, after all,” Ben snorted, used to Y/N’s petulant behavior when with him.

“Wish I could say the same about you. Daisy looks so cute, by the way. I remember when you bought that sundress,” Y/N slowly circled towards the gate with Ben, watching her neighbors flood in, ushered by her mother and father.

“She was so excited to come today. I actually stopped by Laura’s earlier this week to introduce her to Kai. They get along well, even though Daisy is a bit older. She couldn’t stop talking about the ‘hybrids from the gray place’ too, which I’m assuming are your guys,” Ben confessed, waving at Daisy chasing after Hoseok, who was running away from her slowly so she could catch him by his tail, laughing wildly. “Alright. I’m going to make my rounds. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the questioning to a minimum, I want to have a good time and that includes not pissing you or Roy off.”

Left by herself, Y/N watched Hoseok and Jimin joyfully play with Daisy, giving Roy a break to chat with her grandmother. Downing the rest of her second drink, Y/N fished out another seltzer from a nearby ice bucket, jumping in surprise once she stood up and registered Jeongguk in front of her, the scent of smoke coming off of him powerfully.

“Hey, Jeongguk, how’s it going? Did you meet some new people?” Y/N pressed her free hand to her irregular heartbeat, Jeongguk adjusting the neckline of his new band tee shirt with The Cure on it. He really did look like a manager at Hot Topic, though it worked on him, Y/N thought.

“I said hi to your parents, and the dude with the little bunny. Your mom started pulling out her tarot cards, she’s roping Yoongi into a reading,” Jeongguk replied, eyes on the open gate. “More people here than I thought, the jaguar seems a little overwhelmed.”

Making a noise of exclamation, Y/N scanned the backyard for Seokjin, finding him hanging back by the tree Namjoon had been earlier pulling at his shirtsleeves. Calling his name gently knowing that he could hear easily, she motioned for him to come to her, his ears flattened to his skull anxiously. Jeongguk, shockingly, stayed with her as Seokjin approached, a neutral expression on the elk hybrid’s face. She’d never tell him, but she thought it was pretty sweet of him to tell her about Seokjin’s unease.

“You alright, honey?” Y/N asked, running her hand down his back soothingly. Seokjin’s broad shoulders sinking down a bit at her touch.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just have to get used to the crowd, sometimes I get a little overwhelmed,” Seokjin flashed her a little smile, ears perking up at some sound she could not hear. Jeongguk, too, was focused on a spot behind her.

“If it gets to be too much, you can always go in the house and relax. I’ll sit with you for a bit, too, if that makes you feel b-better,” Y/N encouraged, stuttering when Seokjin pulled her in for a side-hug.

“Thanks, sweets,” Seokjin’s voice was muffled by her hair, his lips pressed into it comfortingly.

Blushing furiously once he released her, Seokjin smiled at someone behind her, a series of surprised gasps coming from the guests. Spinning on her heel, Y/N couldn’t stop the squeal coming from her lips, Alice strolling through the gate in bell-bottom jeans and a white ruched crop top, and a large bucket full of icy sangria in her arms. Close behind was Laura, her thick braids skimming her collarbones as she shifted Kai in her arms, his tiny fists full of the material of her green polka-dotted sundress, followed by her husband Tyler carrying a comically large box of Truly seltzers.

Immediately dumping the sangria on the table with the ice bucket, Alice flung herself into Y/N’s arms, her caramel perfume wrapping her in a warm hug. Laura joined in on the embrace as soon as Tyler’s arms were free to hold Kai so he could bring him over to Daisy and Roy, all three girls squeezing the life out of each other. It had been far too long since she had seen them, Y/N thought tearfully, Laura stroking her hair gently as they pulled away. Jeongguk cleared his throat uncomfortably, Alice’s eyebrow shooting up into her hairline once she realized the two hybrids were standing there.

“Oh shit. Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” Alice quipped, Jeongguk turning pale at the title and taking a sip of his drink to hide it. Snorting into her hand, Y/N realized she probably should have warned the hybrids a bit more about the twins. “Let me guess. Jeongguk?”

“H-how? Did you know my–” Jeongguk choked on the sip of his drink, Seokjin’s shoulders shaking with laughter as Alice held up a finger.

“Y/N debriefed us of all your names already, it was only fair,” Alice cut him off, eyeing the elk hybrid from head to toe. “Hmm… and you. You’re either Yoongi or Seokjin, kitty,” Alice redirected her attention to Seokjin, amusement vanishing from his face to be replaced with astonishment.

“That’s Seokjin! Cool it, Al,” Y/N spoke around a gasp of laughter, trying not to enjoy the mortification washing over Jeongguk and Seokjin’s glazed-over eyes.

“Nice to meet you boys, hope you’ve been nice to our Y/N,” Laura extended a hand, assuming her motherly tone of voice as Seokjin robotically took her hand to shake it.

“Laura,” Y/N whined, cringing as Jeongguk shook her hand with white knuckles.

“Are the Santos twins here? Come here, my girls!” Y/N heard her father shout from the picnic table, bouncing Kai on his knee with glee.

Giggling, Y/N felt herself get dragged to the table by Alice, Seokjin close behind as they left Jeongguk reeling by the gate. As she caught up with the twins and her father, Yoongi approached them, politely introducing himself to the twins, both of whom immediately took a liking to. Similarly, Jimin seated himself across from Y/N’s father, sipping on some whiskey as he joined the conversation. Between the group of them, it was pretty amicable, Y/N blushing when Yoongi pulled her close to brush an eyelash off of her face.

Y/N kept a close eye on her mother doing readings by the fire, performing a couple on her neighbors before moving onto Anthony followed by Taehyung, who hadn’t left each other’s sides since the former’s arrival. After a while, Alice pulled Y/N away, asking if she could show her the cupcakes Ben had brought.

Once they were in the dark garage, Alice began to laugh uncontrollably. Confused, Y/N shut the door to the fridge, staring at Alice with confusion. Alice pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to stop the onslaught of laughter rippling through her.

“Okay, now I get it. They’re all hot,” Alice gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. Heart plummeting to her stomach, Y/N lobbed a cocktail napkin at Alice that was wrapped around her newest French 75 Hoseok delivered to her with pink cheeks from chasing Daisy around.

“Alice! That is so not the reason why I adopted them! As a matter of fact, they were in their animal forms when I happened to find them at the shelter,” Y/N whisper-yelled, praying to the sky none of the hybrids could hear her between the walls of the garage, the music from the speakers outside, and the commotion from all of the guests.

“Whatever! Regardless, you failed to mention they were so handsome. I like that one in the Hawaiian shirt, the fox hybrid… good with kids. Hoseok, I think?” Alice calmed down, watching Y/N’s face carefully. Y/N knew when Alice liked to read her expressions, though she had become a master at concealing them from her.

“Yeah, Hoseok’s great. You two would really get along, both of you get off on making me squirm,” Y/N followed Alice back outside, her friend’s bouncy curls shaking with laughter as they stumbled back out into the bright sunshine. Several drinks in, and Y/N was already feeling a tad loopy.

“You know Laura and I were just worried about you with all these guys in your house. Especially when we found out they were all men… but they seem like really sweet hybrids. Rough around the edges, but I think they found the right home,” Alice declared in a sobering tone of voice.

Pulling Alice in for another hug with the relieving sensation of one of her closest friends approving of her hybrids, Y/N could hardly believe how different her life was compared to exactly a week ago. Then, she was preparing to eat a hummus wrap on her lunch break, thinking about her home renovation schedule, and was very much alone. Now, she was enjoying herself with friends and family on a beautiful August afternoon, with seven hybrids that would still be with her even when the party was over.

Only a tad tipsy, Y/N hooked her elbow with Alice’s, ready to follow the path into the backyard from the garage with glee. She had been meaning to check on Seokjin, even though he seemed much more at ease since he had sat in a lawn chair beside her grandmother, striking up a conversation while they sipped their beverages together.

“Y/N, honey. Can I have a word?” Her mother interrupted Y/N’s inner monologue, Alice blowing both of them a kiss before skipping into Hoseok’s direction in the backyard.

No idea how her mother had slipped away from the clumps of people waiting to get their cards read by her, Y/N presumed whatever she had to say was important. Hoping that it wasn’t an announcement that she had forgotten to prepare something for the cookout, Y/N allowed her mother to pull her closer to the driveway and completely out of earshot– Y/N could hardly even hear the playlist Hoseok had made for the cookout.

“Honey, I received messages for you. I know you hate when I do this, but it's important,” her mother rushed out, taking a hold of Y/N’s forearms firmly, a serious glint in her eyes. “I was just reading cards for our guests, your hybrids, and I had a strong vision.”

Swallowing, Y/N began to sweat, more than well aware her mother’s visions came true ninety percent of the time. Possibilities raced through her mind’s eye as she registered her mother’s words; did she see an upcoming conflict, a new ‘love match’, or something darker– was the entity that Jeongguk and Namjoon banished still lurking? The way her mother’s face was pinched indicated that whatever it was, the message wasn’t pleasant.

“Mom, what is it? You’re scaring me,” Y/N whispered, her mother’s hand curling around her forearm urgently. She appeared disturbingly conflicted, eyebrows pulled together and mouth twisted into a grimace.

“Honey, I was just reading cards for Taehyung,” her mother began, her eyes unfocusing, Y/N recognized that she was receiving another vision. “Oh my G-!”

“Hey, hey! Oh, are you alright? What happened? Is Tae okay!?” Y/N steadied her mother, feeling ice-cold panic flood through her. Shuddering, her mother regained her strength after a few beats, Y/N biting her lip raw. Finally, she was able to articulate, her voice misty and eyes faraway.

“Taehyung, you need to be careful around that man. Full of vengeance, bitterness, betrayal,” her mother dug her fingernails into the flesh of Y/N’s forearm desperately, Y/N getting the feeling it wasn’t entirely her mother alone speaking to her at the moment. Y/N could sense the presence of something else. “Though, I don’t think he’ll hurt you. But he has secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N pressed desperately, trying to pry off her mother’s ironlike grip on her forearms, her next response causing Y/N to still, frozen in utter horror.

“That young man… Taehyung. He hides many things, shares with no one. The seven of swords, a knife. Always on the run, he’s found his place to hide. He’s killed before– he’s killed a man.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @molshole

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

811 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 2 years

Text

summary: in which christmas is upon us and jungkook just wants to say that he loves you.

> fluff / wc: 3.4k

> warnings: poor baby is sick so he’s on vocal rest :( oc loves snow but is scared of slipping on it, a littleee suggestive with an allusion to a hard-on

note: just to be clear the bold texts are the lines jungkook says to you using his phone ^^ + the first scene is inspired by this ask !!! + i had a nap after my finals then started writing this lol my brain is still fried. happy holidays my dear friends <3 stay warm and healthy <3

—

jungkook plops down on the bed, about to slide his sweatshirt over his head until it gets forcefully ripped away from his hands. a yell of his dog’s name dies down on his tongue as bam’s fast paws slide all the way across the living room floor. releasing yet another crestfallen sigh, he follows after his stolen piece of clothing.

however, the path gets blocked by you, standing infront of him with a hand over your waist.

“and why are you walking around only wearing boxers?” you ask him quizzically, raising your eyebrows. “baby, please don’t get sicker than you already are.”

he pouts sadly, pointing at the couch where bam stands tall, his two-weeks-old sweatshirt hanging from the dog’s teeth.

“bam!” you turn to look at bam, and he tilts his head to the side innocently. “come here. give it back to your dad.”

jungkook scratches his head when bam drops the sweatshirt on the floor, stepping on it as he jumps off the couch to jog towards you. he can’t even point out the fact that it was just fresh from the laundry because he left the whiteboard in the kitchen and his phone is in the bedroom. oh my god, he can’t even complain about how much he fucking hates being on vocal rest.

well, he did try once this morning, using the whiteboard. with eleven exclamation points and the sad emoji drawn with extra details to be exact. okay, maybe twice. he erased the sad emoji to replace it with a crying one when you caught him making coffee, which the doctor told him he isn’t allowed to drink until his throat heals because it can dehydrate and irritate it. to be fair, having coffee every morning has been a part of his daily routine. he didn’t even realize he was making coffee until you started scolding him.

due to the cold weather and his intense recording sessions for the past week, he woke up with a sore throat and hoarse voice yesterday morning. aside from taking the prescribed medication, he was advised to go on a vocal rest, too. what makes it absolutely hellish for him? it’s not difficult to obey doctor’s orders. because it’s not like he could actually use his voice even if he wanted to. almost nothing comes out when he tries.

this gloomy situation reminded him why he religiously drinks vitamins and takes good care of his voice in the first place. it’s one thing to take a break from singing . . . but to completely abstain from talking? the last time he said ‘i love you’ was almost two days ago. he wants to curl up into a ball, cry, and scream.

and just like what he’s been doing since yesterday to express his misery, he sighs, lazily draping his arms around you. bam ends up lying down on the floor behind you when he realizes he won’t be getting any attention.

“oh, my poor baby. i love you.” you coo, tenderly rubbing his naked back, hoping it provides him a little more comfort and warmth. “you’ll be better in no time. just give your voice the rest it needs, hmm?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder. his embrace becomes tighter as he slumps, leaning more of his weight on you. you plant your feet firmly on the ground to prevent the two of you from falling, and you allow him to hold on to you for however long he needs.

“are you sure calvin klein hasn’t offered you guys a deal yet?”

and that’s when he pulls away. he stares at you for a second before shaking his head, fluffy hair bouncing as he does so.

“maybe it got lost in the mail?”

he shakes his head again, a bunny smile creeping on his face because of how adorably serious you’re being over such a random topic. how do you possibly miss a mail from the calvin klein? your teasing touch travels down to the curves of his waist, until your fingers trace the waistband of his boxers, sparking tingles in his abdomen and all the way down there. only then does he realize that he’s still half naked.

your nose scrunches as you smile innocently. what a minx. you never give his poor heart a rest. “then i guess you’re for my eyes only.”

body, heart, and soul— for your eyes only. but he wouldn’t say it even if he was able to speak because it sounds too cheesy outside of the song he hasn’t played you yet, so he kisses your cheek to say i am.

you pat his butt twice, urging him to head back to the bedroom. “go get dressed now, or i’ll change my mind and leave alone.”

he narrows his eyes at the sweatshirt left lying on the floor, and you click your tongue when the realization dawns on you.

“i’ll wash it later. it just had to be the white one, huh?”

—

“oh, baby, wait! forgot your scarf!” you rip your hand away from the doorknob, bolting back to the bedroom.

jungkook waits by the door, holding up his phone in landscape view, the words ‘but i don’t have a scarf?’ flashing on the screen. he only sees this at concerts, having done it himself before— a fan using their phone as a makeshift banner. and here he is, using it to his maximum advantage in his daily life.

“well, i do!” you enthusiastically respond to his message when you return, holding up the two scarves you managed to find in your cabinet. “pink with black checkered pattern or indigo? it’s shibori.”

he points at your right hand, and his heart flutters inside his ribcage when your face evidently lights up. you drape the pink scarf over his nape, wrapping the longer end twice around his neck to make it even with the other end. you take a quick step back to check him out, and it matches perfectly with his all-black outfit.

“nice and warm.” you say sweetly as you stroke his shiny hair.

he types on his phone before showing you the screen: ‘it’s so cold outside wear a scarf too :(’

you wear the indigo scarf without tying or wrapping it around your neck, leaving both ends draping down almost the same length as your jacket. this makes your boyfriend tut. he mimics your actions from earlier, making sure it’s warm but still breathable. you hide a pout. this scarf doesn’t match your outfit at all, but just like how you also ate soup for dinner last night so he wouldn’t feel sad and lonely about eating bland food, you do it anyway.

you look down when you feel a poking at your thigh. “oh. hi. be a good boy, bamie, okay? we’ll be back before dinnertime.”

despite the dirty white sweatshirt in the hamper, jungkook gives bam his good boy head pats before locking the front door.

—

you hum along to the christmas songs playing in the stores you pass by, restraining yourself from skipping along the pavement so you won’t slip on the unswept snow that fell almost the entire evening. jungkook is holding your hand firmly as you share a heating pad. his free one is tucked in the pocket of his padded jacket to shield it from the cold. you made sure that he was leaving the house as warm as possible, even stuffing earmuffs in your bag incase he starts complaining about freezing ears, too.

you pull back the khaki knitted bucket hat a little over your head so it won’t block your vision. he can’t see the rest of your face, but the way your eyes crinkle as your cheeks rise beneath the mask makes him copy your smile. you’re not usually happy with walking crowded streets, but the holidays seem to be an exception.

you always marvel at the giant christmas trees they display in the middle of the cities. you watch hanging christmas lanterns in awe, the swirling colors dancing in your dilated pupils. you gush about the christmas sales, and the discount bundles. you insisted on owning two christmas trees, green and white, to use them interchangeably. and by insisted he means you went home one november night hauling a giant box without him having a single clue what was inside . . . and he was afraid to find out.

you tend to decorate a little late because you’re both usually busy by the end of the year, but you leave it up until you’re reminded that valentine’s day is nearing.

this year, it’s the white tree’s time to shine again. it was jungkook’s idea to go with the theme of pantone’s color of the year, very peri, a shade of periwinkle. you already decorated it with a purple star on top and christmas balls all around, with light blue flowers and candy canes as the accent. now you’re on a hunt for lights to wrap around it, and hopefully also toss in some of those little gift box ornaments you just can’t seem to goddamn find online. (spoiler alert: you fail to find them in person too)

“ah! they have all the colors.” you giggle as you grab the first box of lights you saw, which is green.

jungkook is walking to the other end of the shelf as he inspects the boxes of lights he brushes past, until he finds something you’d definitely love. he takes out the first two boxes to grab the one behind them, because well, many other people most probably already touched those.

“baby, please help. should we get white? or green? or pink?” you ask without looking at him, squinting at the three boxes infront of you in serious contemplation.

he catches your attention by bumping his arm against yours, proudly presenting the item he found with the words ‘this one has a remote control with twelve colors ^_^’ flashing on his phone screen.

of course, it goes to say that you feel sad about your sweet boy having a sore throat, because this man’s life literally revolves around his voice. you were anxious about how you were going to comfort him when you found out that he needs to be on a vocal rest. but you didn’t expect that it would end up with you being hopelessly endeared by his written communication and cute little emoticons.

you beam at him excitedly, taking the box from his hands. “i like these round bulbs better. i didn’t think they’d have this type of st-”

you flip it over to check the price, and the amount of numbers comically make your shoulders drop. “aaand that’s also twelve times the price of the regula- jungkook!”

you yelp in surprise when he tightly wraps his arms around you from behind, whisking you away before you can convince yourself not to get it.

after the employee tested out if the product is working well, you finally made your peace with the price tag. you can choose the colors for the lighting modes and patterns? sick.

it doesn’t come as a surprise when you find long lines extending past the belt stanchions that separate the two counters. jungkook glues himself to your back again, resting his chin on your shoulder. the beeping of the barcode reader sounds too loud for him, and he wishes they would turn up the speakers so he can hear the jazzy christmas songs better.

he behaves for the most part, gently swaying you back and forth to the music. at some point, he almost falls asleep on your shoulder while resting his eyes. he regrets not wearing his glasses today. when he opens them again, you’re already fifth in line. jungkook estimates that a good 10% of your relationship is spent waiting on cash register lines, and it may sound tiresome if you put it that way, but oddly enough, he doesn’t hate it at all.

he pulls up the notes app in his phone, and you instantly look down at the screen knowing that he has something to say to you.

‘i’m thirsty :( my throat is getting dry again’

“aw, my love.” you coo at him sadly, rubbing his forearm. “want chamomile tea with honey again?”

you feel him bob his head, his cheek brushing against yours as he types his response. ‘yes. it magically makes me feel better ㅠㅠ but the pain still comes back ㅠㅠ’

“it’s gonna be fine. just let me take care of you, okay? drink your tea at the bakery we passed by, then let’s cuddle when we get home.”

jungkook briefly pulls down his mask to press an appreciative kiss on your temple, a small smile forming on his lips because you taking care of him makes him feel significantly less shitty. about generally everything, really. but you just get extra fussy over him when he’s in pain and he adores it.

your cheek kisses? addicting. asking him how he’s feeling every hour with your sweet, nurturing voice? brings him to tears. scolding him about being stubborn? makes him feel loved. religiously refilling the humidifiers? he must marry you. burning his midnight oatmeal because you had to help him look for his whiteboard marker? funny.

“oh wait, it’s already 4pm. so you should eat dinner and take your meds first before cuddles.”

the medicine makes him drowsy, and considering that he is already drowsy, he knows he’s going to pass out to sleep as soon as his body gets tangled with yours. having a sore throat fucking sucks, but he’s kind of excited to get his longest sleep of the year yet.

—

jungkook heads straight to the table beside the window, letting you order alone so he doesn’t get charmed by the wide array of christmas-themed desserts displayed by the counter. the seductive smell of sweets permeate through every corner of the room, and it’s more than enough to have him drooling, really. but if he eats sugar, his voice’s time in prison will be extended.

he takes off his jacket, scarf, and mask to enjoy some warmth without the heavy layers. while he waits for you, he distracts himself with checking his inbox. he giggles quietly as he scrolls through the conversation between his members that took place earlier this noon. he was taking a nap at that time, courtesy of the medicine he took after breakfast. however, his attention gets torn away from the phone when he hears a gasp from another table.

it’s snowing pretty heavily again, engulfing the vibrant street in thicker piles of pure white. winter can sure be a nuisance, but god, is it breathtakingly magical. it’s fascinating how ice falling from the sky can transform a daily scenery into a wonderland of unadulterated joy. to jungkook, the human’s ability to breathe life into earth��s many natural processes gives him the enthusiasm to live through another cycle of the four seasons.

“snow is so pretty.” you sigh dreamily as you sit down beside him, sinking on the (personally, too) soft couch. “here’s your tea, babe. be careful. it’s still hot.”

mesmerized by what he calls his magic potion, he carefully picks up the cup by its handle. as he blows on the piping hot beverage, his gaze falls upon the saucer infront of you. it’s a blue donut with a snowflake intricately drawn on it— too pretty, he would feel bad about eating it.

“stop watching me. i feel bad.” you whine halfway through your donut, wiping the corners of your lips with a tissue paper.

your boyfriend feigns innocence, making a confused face before taking another sip of his tea.

“what do you want for dinner?”

with that question, he goes back to scrolling through his phone to look for a restaurant. craving to feel his warmth, you hold his waist as you rest your cheek on his toned bicep, curiously watching him navigate the food delivery app.

he shows you the chicken noodle soup from the family restaurant you’ve ordered from several times in the past. “yeah, that should be fine. as long as the meat and veggies are soft. put it as a request in the notes.”

he does as you told, explaining that he’s sick so he can only eat easy-to-swallow food. before he can proceed to the payment, you sneakily tap the plus sign beside the quantity to make order two servings. he look at you in question, because you always prefer rice over noodles.

“i’ll eat it with you. i want something warm in my tummy.” you smile sweetly, gesturing at the snow-covered street to reiterate your point.

you finish the rest of your donut while singing along to jingle bell rock, thighs bouncing along to the beat. your boyfriend watches you in amusement, laughing to himself when you mumble gibberish then sing louder when you know the lyrics again. after sending in the order, he shows you that it should arrive at your doorstep by 6pm.

he picks up his cup to finish the rest of his tea. he takes a small sip to find that it’s already at the perfect temperature. “mhmmm, so good.” he moans, eyebrows knitting in sheer delight as the warm liquid soothes his sore throat.

“jungkook!”

oh shit. right. he has a sore throat. that hurt.

his hand flies to cover his mouth, ‘oops!’ written all over his face.

you release a sigh. it’s the first proper sound you hear from him since the other night, so you can’t say that you’re mad. “is the tea that good?”

he snaps a thumbs up with a wink to confirm that ‘it’s the best!’ as he usually says. you conclude that the tea here is better than what he has at home, and so, you decide to secretly go here early tomorrow morning. his throat hurts the most after sleeping, and you’re hoping it would help put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

jungkook wears his jacket again, and then the pink scarf. as it’s snowing harder and it’s getting colder, you take this opportunity to put the earmuffs on him.

“so cute.” you mutter quietly, kissing his cheek because it’s impossible not to shower him with love when your heart is overflowing with it. you roll your eyes when your boyfriend leans closer to wordlessly ask for another. nevertheless, you cup his face with your warm hand, kissing the mole on top of his cheekbone.

jungkook opens the umbrella the moment you step out of the bakery, and the sound of chimes get muted when the door closes on its own. the green eco-bag where the christmas lights are in gently swings as you walk back to the car parked three blocks away. parking was full almost everywhere so you had no choice but to go with whichever empty spot you saw.

you make a noise of confusion when jungkook suddenly grabs your arm to stop you from walking. he dishes out the phone from his pocket and begins typing using only his thumb. you remain standing there, motionless, waiting for him to communicate.

he pushes back his earmuffs a bit before showing you the screen. ‘baby do you want a pasta maker?’

“why would i want a pasta ma- do you want a pasta maker?”

‘they’re on sale at the store we went to :D’

you fail to hold back a laugh when you realize that he’s probably been thinking about it since you were waiting in line back at the store. “want to go back and let me buy it for you?”

‘i love you <3’

you hide a stupid grin under your mask, shyly pushing down the screen to hide it. “yah, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk.”

jungkook only giggles, stubbornly raising the screen to show it to you once more. you pull him over to the side when you see a big group of people about to walk by, accidentally stepping on a pile of snow that makes you an inch taller.

“i love you more.” you brush off the snow that fell on his hair, and you share a sincere smile that can be recognized even only through the eyes. “you promise that you’ll use it more than once?”

he replies with a fervent nod. and it’s his eyes again . . . it’s always those wide eyes shimmering with love and optimism. they make you feel as though you are capable of moving mountains and parting oceans and turning dust into gold. and as long as it’s for jungkook, those might just be true.

“alright. let’s go then.” your boyfriend takes that as the green light to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he excitedly tugs you back to the opposite way.

“walk slowly! i’m scared of slipping!” you whine in panic as you and jungkook leave behind footprints on the snow, temporarily carving the memories of today into stone.

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

fortheloveofwonderland · 2 months

Text

Rusty | Chapter 20 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this chapter gets dark. Spencer is suffering from a full on break and grows suicidal. Please proceed with caution. This one ends on a cliffhanger, sorry not sorry.

Summary - While you set out on a mission to help Spencer, despite the personal risk, Spencer spirals further into darkness.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - extreme dissociation, swearing, drinking, mentions of past rape, brief mention of oral (m receiving), vomit, blood, self harm, suicide attempt.

WC - 6.4k

Nearly two hundred and fifty some miles and four sweaty buses later you found yourself in a nondescript alleyway sandwiched between a bodega and a dry cleaners on the outskirts of Las Cruces, New Mexico.

Despite the heat you pulled the hood of the sweatshirt you’d purchased higher over your head, obscuring your face as much as possible. The wanted posters were everywhere, you couldn’t be too careful.

You’d bought supplies and treated your arm wound as best you could and it had at least stopped bleeding. It was one less thing to worry about.

It was some eighteen hours since you’d watched Spencer, or whoever he was at the time, leave the barn in the middle of the desert that you’d been hiding in to continue his hunt for you.

You could have kept running, you no doubt should have kept running. But you knew leaving Spencer this way would result in his complete and utter spiral into the blackest depths of destruction. You couldn’t just leave him to his own demise.

Despite it all, you loved him. It wasn’t his fault these things were happening to him, it wasn’t a testament of who he was as a person. It was a manifestation of a lifetime of trauma and you needed to get him some help.

And there was only one person for that job.

It wasn’t until you were almost an hour outside of Tombstone that you even realised you had Spencer’s phone. There were only a handful of numbers saved to the device and one in which you knew could be the answer to his problems.

However, if you were to help Spencer you would ultimately need to sacrifice yourself.

You’d weighed up the pros and cons religiously on one of your bus journeys. You’d known for some time you would do just about anything for Spencer, the fact you’d stuck around after he hit you was proof enough of that.

But did you love him enough to put him before yourself? Because in order to help him, you were effectively ending your own life.

In the end the decision had been a relatively easy one. Spencer would no doubt end up dead at his own hands if you left him like this and no matter how far you ran you would never outrun that kind of guilt.

And so here you were now, ready to surrender yourself in return for Spencer’s well being.

At first when you’d called that number in his phone it hadn’t rang, simply beeped each time you’d hit the call button. After a few attempts you realised the number had been blocked.

Once you’d gone through his settings and unblocked the number it rang five times before a frantic voice answered.

“Spencer? Oh my god Spence!”

“Uh, not exactly…listen I need your help and I don’t know who else to ask. I'm a…friend of Spencer’s and I think he’s come off of his meds. He’s in a bad way. I need your help.”

You hadn’t had to go into detail, hearing Spencer was in trouble was enough for them to come running.

You’d chosen Las Cruces as a meeting place as it was far enough away from Tombstone that should they not help you and you managed to get away, you wouldn’t compromise the little safe haven.

Their flight arrived an hour ago, they’d text you on Spencer’s phone and you’d given them the meeting spot. They should be here any minute.

You held the revolver in your hand, hoping to not have to use it but knowing you’d need some leverage. As soon as they saw your face, the one plastered on wanted posters across the country, they’d be ready to drag you in.

But Spencer was the priority here, you needed them to hear you out before slapping you in cuffs.

You heard a car roll past and soon come to a stop. Then the sound of a car door opening and closing. You held your breath when the sound of footsteps entered your ears and levelled the gun towards the entrance of the alleyway.

He appeared like an apparition, shrouded in an almost ethereal glow from the sunlight streaming in behind him.

His footsteps were heavy on the ground as he started towards you, back stiffening when he saw the gun in your hand.

Your face was obscured by the hoodie, pulled closely round your head. You needed to make a few things clear before he knew who you were.

His hand went to his holster, palming the butt of his own firearm but not drawing it. He dared to step closer, out of the light and his image came into view.

Luke Alvez stepped towards you, his brow furrowed deeply and his lips puckered. He stopped a few feet in front of you, eyes trained on the revolver in your hand.

“You called me,” he spoke, one hand still on his holster, the other in the air in surrender. “Do we need the gun?”

“For now, yes.” You replied stiffly. “I need you to make a deal with me before I can put it away.”

“What kind of deal? I’m here for Spencer.”

“I need you to promise me you will help him first and arrest me later.”

Luke’s frown deepened as he tried to focus on your face beneath the hoodie to no avail. He gave you a cursory once over before his eyes landed back on the gun.

“Why would I arrest you? I don’t even know who you are.” Luke shrugged.

“Yes, Agent Alvez, you do.” You took a step closer, using your free hand to finally tug down the hood of your sweater and waited for Luke’s reaction.

It happened almost instantly. His eyes widened, almost bulging out of his head. His mouth fell open and the colour seemed to drain from his face. He drew his gun now, pointing it back at you in one swift move. You noticed his hand was shaking a little.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he croaked, absolutely dumbfounded. His mind travelled back to Spencer’s Bandera ranch as he stared at you in disbelief.

“Is this the woman? I only saw her from the back. She coulda changed her hair? Is this her? She escaped from a max security facility a few weeks ago. Phil called me.”

“No. I’ve never seen this woman before.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spencer? Because this woman is dangerous, and if you’re lying to me, that’s harbouring a fugitive. I don’t need to tell you that comes with a prison sentence.”

“I’m telling you Luke, I don’t know this woman. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Right, I’m just being paranoid I guess.”

Your lip twitched up at the corner in a wry smile and you stared him dead in the eye, not allowing him to see your fear. You swallowed down your nerves over all the ways this could go wrong and when you spoke, your voice held nothing but conviction.

“Hello Agent Alvez,” you clicked your tongue. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

***

Spencer Reid had finally lost his mind, of this he was certain. The last thing he remembered before finding himself in his library surrounded by hundreds of trashed books, was standing in the stable opening Luke’s gift.

He was bleeding, there was no surprise there. His shotgun was on the floor and there were three bullet holes in the wall.

His books had been torn from shelves, pages ripped from their spines and shredded to confetti. He found Copper in the bedroom and he cowered away from Spencer when he entered the room.

But you and his cell phone were nowhere to be found.

Judging by the time he’d been out for over half a day, his longest dissociation by far. Images came to him in flashes but he wasn’t sure if any of it was actually real.

A sprawling desert. Shotgun blasts. An abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere. Blood.

But the most disturbing part was the extremely distinctive voices of the ghosts in his head conversing with him as though it was perfectly normal.

“It was God’s will boy, don’t you ever forget it.”

“We were just protecting you, Spencie. She’s no good for us.”

“You were too weak to protect her, just like you were too weak to look after your mother.”

“You couldn’t save Maeve from me, what makes you think you can save her from yourself?”

“She would have made a much better sacrifice than you. Cyrus would have loved her.”

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” He yelled, hands flying to his head and eyes closing against the onslaught.

“She was cute, I’ll give you that. But she’ll never be me. Does it make you sick that after everything I put you through you’d still fuck me given half a chance? I saw it in your eyes when you had me up against the wall, it turned you on.”

“No, no! That’s not true. You make me sick, I’d never-”

“He would have let me too, if he thought it would save his previous Maeve. He let me kiss him, I always wondered what else he’d let me do.”

“That’s not true. I would not have crossed that line. I loved Maeve, I was just trying to protect her!” He rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed, clutching his head tightly.

“But you couldn’t protect her, the same way you couldn’t protect Y/N. Because you’re a goddamn weakling, Spencer! It’s why I left, I couldn’t stand what a pansy of a son I had.”

“Fuck you, dad. I’m not weak, not weak. You were the weak one. You left because you couldn’t handle moms illness.”

“You were pathetic and weak just like Tobias. It’s why Charles and I had to teach you a lesson. Both weak and both sinners.”

“No! You’re wrong! I’m not weak and I’m not a sinner! I’m nothing like Tobias!” He screamed to try to drown them out.

“Cyrus was so wrong about you.”

“No, please. Just leave me alone, please!” He whined, opening his eyes to a barrage of tears cascading down his cheeks.

“You did this to yourself, son. You’re just like your mother, thinking you know better than the doctors, coming off the medication that is meant to help you.”

“What have I done? Fuck, Spencer you’re supposed to be a genius!” He threw himself to his feet, ignoring the ache from the open wound in his thigh he’d yet to address.

He stormed back downstairs to the upturned library and the bottles of whiskey he kept in a hidden cabinet in one of the shelves. He grabbed one and unscrewed the lid.

“Once an addict, always an addict. Just like Tobias.”

“I’m nothing like him.” He whimpered, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a long sip.

“Just replacing one vice for another. Do you feel it, Spencer? Do you feel your cells dying as you decide to give up? You’re only proving my research.”

“I don’t want to die. And even if I did, your research was flawed. You used your parents as test subjects, your sample was biased.” He took another swig.

Where is Y/N? What happened and where did she go?

“She left your sorry ass just like everyone else.”

“Fuck you dad!” Spencer screamed into the void. “And fuck you Cat, Diane. Fuck you Merva. Fuck you Raphael, Tobias, Charles…whoever you are. Fuck you all! I need to find Y/N.”

“She’s never coming back, you scared the life out of the poor thing, Spencie.”

“I didn’t do anything! That was all you. What did you do to her?”

“We drove the devil away.”

“She wasn’t the devil!” Spencer spat, taking another, longer sip of the whiskey in the hopes that if he was drunk he wouldn’t hear their constant assault upon him. “Why is this happening? Why is this happening to me?”

“You’ve never been strong enough. You weren’t strong enough to fight me off were you?”

The new voice entering the fray caused Spencer to still, his heart skipping at least several beats. This voice was a thick Spanish drawl, husky from too many smokes. That particular voice haunted Spencer’s dreams and most of his waking moments too.

It was the voice of the ringleader, the aggressor and instigator in Spencer’s prison rapes.

Spencer’s whole body trembled, almost dropping the bottle on the floor as more tears scored harshly down his cheeks.

“P-please,” he whimpered. “Please not you too.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy what we did to you. We all saw how much you enjoyed it, cariño.”

The use of Luke’s old nickname in the voice of his rapist caused Spencer’s legs to buckle. He collapsed on the shredded paper on the floor, the whiskey bottle rolling from his hand and spilling its contents across the ripped pages.

“D-don’t call me that.” He cried, on his hands and knees in the destruction of books. “Please don’t c-call me that.”

“What’s the matter cariño? You always liked it when he called you it.”

“Because I loved him. Because when he said it, it was caring and kind and not evil.”

“What would you prefer, cariño?” The voice was overwhelming, casting all the others away. “Mi corazón? Mi Vida? Querido?”

Spencer sobbed, his whole body quaking. At some point or another Luke had called him all of those things and hearing them from the mouth of the man who destroyed that relationship was causing Spencer to spiral further than before.

“Te amo, Spencer.”

“No, no please stop it. It’s not fair!” Spencer wailed. “I loved him so much but I couldn’t be with him because of you! Because of what you and your goons did to me!”

He was crawling around on the floor with no destination. The voices all started talking at once, muttering and mumbling to each other, to him, and he couldn’t keep up.

The voices weren’t just in him, they were him. And he was them. Spencer was no longer a singular entity. He carried pieces of his ghosts, his abusers, his tormentors. He was one with them now.

There was no coming back from this. He may as well just lean into it.

***

When Luke Alvez’s phone bleated for his attention that morning he’d assumed it was the BAU trying to drag him away from the first blissful day off he’d had in weeks.

He’d been in the midst of receiving one of the most earth shattering blowjobs of his entire life, swaddled in the plush goose down duvet on Grant’s unnecessarily comfortable mattress.

His boyfriend - yes that’s what he was - lived in a little apartment a few blocks from Luke’s own although they spent all their free time together. It may have only been six months but Luke was already considering asking Grant to move in with him.

As long as he brings this stupidly comfy bed.

He’d been moments away from his orgasm when the ringing device rudely cut through his haze of pleasure.

It wouldn’t be the first time the BAU had demanded his attention while he’d been in the middle of sexual euphoria with Grant.

His head had been so foggy with his impending release when Grant came off of him with a little pop he had to blink a few times at the phantom name on his phone screen.

For a moment he was so bewildered by the sight of the ghost's name displayed in front of him that his whole body froze in abject horror.

Grant watched him curiously from the other side of the bed while his boyfriend paled a sickly colour. He knew it wasn’t the BAU.

“Spencer?” Luke breathed as he put the device to his ear. “Oh my god Spence!”

“Uh, not exactly…listen I need your help and I don’t know who else to ask. I'm a…friend of Spencer’s and I think he’s come off of his meds. He’s in a bad way. I need your help.”

The stranger using Spencer’s phone had gone on to ask him to come to Las Cruces, New Mexico, practically begging for his help. When he hung up he didn't know what to think. He’d ended the call by saying he didn’t think he could get involved.

Grant had moved to DC for him, Grant had moved to DC because even after one night together he’d decided Luke was worth that to him. But Spencer had easily been able to toss him aside after two years together.

He’d made a decision after Grant came to the east coast that he was finally done with Spencer. He was giving himself over entirely to his new fledgling relationship and he was going to stop pining over Spencer once and for all.

But then some mystery woman called him and he found himself thrown into turmoil.

Grant had been incredibly understanding and if it wasn’t for his insistence, Luke might not have gone.

But Grant had pointed out that it would only play on his mind and he would never forgive himself if something happened to Spencer. And although Grant wasn’t thrilled about him springing into action to help his ex, he knew it was something Luke needed to do.

So he’d called Spencer’s phone and spoke to the mystery woman once more saying he’d be on a flight as soon as he could. And then he’d called Emily.

Emily was equally as understanding as Grant, letting him take a few days to go and check on Spencer.

And so now here he was, in New Mexico, face to face with a woman he’d been obsessed with catching.

“You need to put the gun down right now. Come quietly and maybe I’ll see if I can cut you a deal for handing yourself in.”

You had your guns pointing at each other, neither of you relinquishing.

“I’ll be the one making deals, Agent Alvez. I need your help. Spencer has come off his meds and his brain is fracturing. I’m fairly certain he’s dissociating into multiple personalities. You are the only one who can help. Please?” You begged and you saw Luke falter a little.

“Why should I believe you?” He corrected himself. “This could just be some kind of trap.”

“What on earth would I have to gain by drawing you out like this? You didn’t know how to find me, you had no idea where I was. Why would I put myself in danger like that?” You scoffed.

You saw the cogs turning in his eyes, making sense of your words.

“Why would you put yourself in danger for Spencer?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Because I love him.” You shrugged. “Getting him help is more important to me than my freedom. So if you come with me and you help him, I will go quietly. I will let you bring me in and I will spend the rest of my life behind bars. As long as Spencer is okay.”

Luke narrowed his eyes on you, scrutinising you in disbelief. It was understandable, you expected his scepticism.

“I swear this isn’t a trick.” You continued. “But I need you to help him before I cooperate with you. Let me take you to him, please? I don’t know what else to do.”

He was profiling you, you could only assume. He saw nothing but genuine care for Spencer in your eyes. You were here, prepared to give up your freedom so Luke would help Spencer.

But Luke was bred to be a cynic. If his time in the Rangers and as a fugitive hunter had taught him anything it was to trust no one.

If you did have an angle however, he couldn’t foresee what it would be. If you wanted him dead you would have shot him the moment he entered the alley, before he’d had a chance to draw his weapon.

But if Spencer really did need his aid, and Luke agreed to assist, what was to say you wouldn’t kill him after? Or at the very least make a run for it.

If he wanted to, he could shoot you in the arm, disable you long enough to cuff you and call Phil to help him extract you.

But the begging look in your eyes told him that Spencer really was in trouble. And he’d never be able to forgive himself if he turned his back on him.

“You’d do this for him? You’d really hand yourself over and go back to prison just so I’ll help him?” His hand holding the gun faltered.

“I would.” You nodded. “Luke, you know all about the magic that is Spencer Reid. I have no doubt you would have done anything for him too, am I right?”

“Yes.” He replied without hesitation.

“Then you know what I’m saying is true. He means more to me than my freedom.” As if to prove this point you cautiously lowered your gun.

You hoped the second you did so Luke wouldn’t be on you with cuffs. But the look on his face told you he believed you and you were sure he was going to help.

You tucked the firearm back in your waistband and held your hands up to show you posed no threat. You nodded at his own gun, silently telling him to do the same.

Luke’s jaw clenched, you saw the way it pulsed. His fingers flexed around the weapon before he slowly lowered it, carefully tucking it back in his holster.

For a moment the two of you stared at one another, a quiet understanding passing between you. You were both willing to put aside this forced vendetta between you for the sake of Spencer. For a brief window, the two of you were on the same side.

“Okay,” Luke huffed out after a few minutes of silence. “Where is he?”

“Tombstone.” You rolled your lip between your teeth.

“Arizona?” He baulked.

“You really think I was going to bring law enforcement to our doorstep before I knew I could trust you?” Your lip twitched at the corner.

“Ay dios mio.” He muttered under his breath. “I guess we better get going, that’s a long drive.”

“About four hours.” You nodded.

“Mierda.” He spat with a roll of his eyes. You could only assume given the conviction for which he said it that it was a curse word.

“I don’t speak Spanish but, sure.” You shrugged. “Shall we?”

Luke nodded his head, motioning for you to pass him first, probably so he could keep an eye on you in case you tried to run.

He led you to a black Escalade parked a little ways up the street which he unlocked from the button on the rental keys. You slid into the passenger's seat and Luke in the driver's side.

He started the engine and nodded his head towards the GPS display in the middle of the dash. You leant forward in your seat and tapped in the zip code of the ranch in Tombstone.

“This better not be some kind of trap.” Luke grumbled as he put the car in drive.

“Agent Alvez with all due respect, please just fucking drive.”

Luke huffed out a breath, hands clenching around the wheel but he did as you said, flicking the blinkers and checking his mirrors before pulling out onto the sleepy street.

You fell into silence and he switched on the radio to combat the awkward quiet. You stared out the window, only partially wondering what the fuck you were doing.

***

The thick and heavy scents of vomit and blood assaulted his nostrils before he’d even opened his eyes. He didn’t remember falling asleep, or being sick for that matter.

He peeled his face off of the floor, a rogue book page stuck to his cheek which he removed and tossed aside.

He blinked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and taking in the annihilated library around him. His memory came in broken flashes but he couldn’t decipher what was real and what was imagined.

What he did know was there was a puddle of dried vomit near where he’d been laying, mostly bile as he hadn’t eaten much of anything since…well he had no idea how long it had been.

He wore only his boxers and t-shirt, his jeans were crumpled nearby in a pile of books of torn paper. Pulling his legs out in front of him he noticed several cuts of varying sizes littered all over his left thigh, covered in crusty blood.

The way his head throbbed told him he’d drank a lot, again, no surprise there.

And then he remembered with startling coherence that you were gone. He’d let his demons out to play and they’d driven you away.

A shotgun. A dry desert. Glass shards. Heavy breaths and violent heartbeats.

“I will find you princess, mark my words. I will find you.”

Silence hung heavy around him and for that he was grateful. The rush of voices were quiet for now, for the moment at least he was alone.

He’d kept a lid on those monsters that lived inside of him for so long but he knew now that they’d escaped they would be back sooner rather than later. He’d dealt with so much evil in his life but those six hellions were the ones with whom he’d suffered the most.

William. Tobias. Diane. Cat. Benjamin. And the man who had incited his prison rapes, who’s name he couldn’t even say inside his head.

He’d become them, and they him. They were so deeply sewn into the fabric of who he was as a person that they were now coming to life. He’d given them life. He fed them, nurtured them and he couldn’t just let them go. He’d brought this on himself.

It was an inevitable outcome of years of trauma combined with suddenly withdrawing from his meds and heavy alcohol consumption. He’d given them the tools to break free and he couldn’t be surprised that they’d done just that.

For now all he could do was relish in the quiet before they all came back at him full throttle.

Eat. Shower. Try and clean up this fucking mess. And then…

Then what? The obvious answer was to try and find you, figure out where you’d gone and if you were ever coming back. But how did he go about that? He couldn’t find his phone and you could have gone anywhere.

One thing at a time, Reid. Clean up the vomit. Clean up yourself. Food. Cleanse. Before they return.

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his new cuts howled as he moved. He forced himself towards the kitchen for cleaning supplies.

He barely made it to the sink before he felt an itching in the back of his head. No, not his head…his brain.

And then the voice made itself known, although he struggled to ascertain exactly what voice was assaulting him this time. He supposed it didn’t really matter.

“You can’t run from us, Reid. We’re a part of you now. We all took pieces from you that you’ll never get back. This is your life now. You’re stuck with us. Until the bitter end.”

***

Luke drove at a frightening pace, his foot hugging the accelerator. His hands held the wheel in a white knuckle grip, monopolising the far left lane and overtaking almost every car on the road.

Aside from the radio station filtering into the car, the two of you were silent. You could see the internal battle waging within Luke, the good versus evil debate.

You were evil, you knew that’s how he saw you. But you were trying to do good by Spencer and because of this, Luke didn’t know how to feel towards you.

You felt bad for dragging him into this. From the little you knew of him he seemed like he was a nice guy, a guy who would clearly do anything for the love of his life, who was also the love of your life.

But he would get his reward in the form of getting to take you in, he would be the one to arrest you once Spencer was safe from himself. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make to keep him from harm's way.

After miles of highway landscape zooming before your eyes, you sucked in a breath and turned to Luke in your chair.

“So, uh, how are things with your cowboy?”

Your words caused him to stiffen more so than he already was. His fingers somehow gripped tighter against the wheel.

“Grant. His name is Grant.” He replied, his voice monotone.

“Right,” you smiled to yourself. “My question still stands.”

“Why do you care?” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“We’re gonna be stuck in this car for at least another three hours, maybe less given the speed you’re gunning it. But I thought I’d try and make conversation.” You shrugged.

Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, weighing up his options. He knew you were right, as much as he didn’t want to engage you. It would be an incredibly long journey trapped in silence.

“It’s, uh, it’s good. He’s great, he makes me feel like I might finally be able to get over Spencer.” He confessed, unsure why he was telling you this.

“And, ya know, he’s super easy on the eyes.” You chuckled, only just refraining from saying what a good kisser he was. That would have no doubt caused Luke to swerve off of the road if he found out that tidbit of your past.

“He really is.” Luke relaxed a little, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I only know the bare bones about your break up with Spencer, but for what it’s worth I know he still thinks about you. I know he loves me, but I also know a part of him will always love you.” You sighed.

Luke tensed again, his jaw set and his back stiffened against the chair once more. He squared his shoulders like he was gearing up for a fight.

“I don’t think I needed to know that.” He huffed. “I’m crazy about Grant but if Spencer told me tomorrow he wanted me back I would drop everything for him. Kinda like I did when you called and said he was in trouble.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” You spoke softly. “He’s a force unto himself. He’s magnetic, irresistible. Hell, I’m willingly letting you arrest me when this is all over just to ensure his safety. It’s kinda infuriating how he makes it so easy to fall in love with him.”

“It kinda is.” Luke agreed with a wry smile, giving you a sidelong glance again. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Twelve times.” He swallowed. “You shot him twelve fucking times.”

“I did.” You nodded, rolling your lip between your teeth. “And I’ll tell you something, Agent Alvez, I’d do it again too. I’ll admit twelve shots was excessive but if I hadn’t killed him, he would have killed me. He put me and my mom through hell and he deserved what he got.

“Tell me something, Agent. If you could get your hands on the men who abused Spencer in prison, would you hold back? Despite the oath you took, would you be able to steal yourself if confronted by them? Because I don’t think you could. They hurt someone you love and I think, like me, you’re fiercely protective of the people you love. So tell me, would twelve bullets even be enough?”

He felt your eyes on him, heavy and imposing. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his flesh. He didn’t owe you the truth but he gave it to you anyway.

“There wouldn’t be enough bullets in the world if I ever came face to face with them.” He confessed, his jaw tight as he did so.

“I know you hate me, I know I’m some kind of thorn in your side. But I think that animosity stems from the fact that you understand why I did what I did, and it pains you to think that way because you’re an officer of the law. You vowed to protect and serve, to uphold the laws of this country and ensure justice. But justice isn’t always rewarding.

“I could have called the cops on Sayers, I could have testified and had him put in prison. But as long as he was breathing it would never be over. The same way that while Spencer’s rapists are still alive it will never be over for you. I get that you have a job to do and as promised, if you help Spencer I will go quietly into the good night. But you know you agree with what I did, and that’s why you’ve let my escape consume you.”

You were right and it was proven by the tight pulse of his jaw and the squeezing of his hands against the leather wheel. He didn’t speak to confirm it, he didn’t need to.

The truth was, and Alvez knew it well, that we all harbour a darkness inside of us. He’d kept his well hidden for the most part, but it had come clawing to the surface after Spencer’s incarceration and his face off with Mr Scratch.

When he found out of the true horrors of Spencer’s time in prison, it was impossible to swallow it down again. Ever since it had ebbed just below the surface, ready to be unleashed at any moment.

The very same way yours had when you’d confronted your step father.

As much as he wanted to blame you for what you’d done, he couldn’t because that would make him a hypocrite. You’d taken your revenge on the man who’d hurt you in the same vein Luke wished to seek justice on the men who had raped Spencer.

Of course, he didn’t admit as much out loud. Instead the two of you fell back into that terse silence as you continued on your way to find Spencer.

He only hoped the younger man hadn’t succumbed to his demons in a way that would make it impossible to cloy him back from his own treacherous darkness.

***

The gentle caress of the too hot water tingled his fraught limbs and provoked his open wounds. His sensitive flesh groaned beneath the heat that threatened to encompass him.

The weightlessness of his body sunk deeper in the watery folds, allowing it to rise above his ears in an attempt to cast himself into silence.

It didn’t work. You couldn’t quiet the voices that lived in your head.

“This is a coward's way out. I always knew you were weak.”

“What’s the matter, Spencie? Can’t handle a few little ghosts?”

“And to think we thought you’d be our ultimate sacrifice.”

He descended deeper, the water covering his eyes, barely reaching his nose. He took a few breaths, readying himself for the end.

“Ohh you think Maeve will be waiting for you on the other side? Pur-lease. You’re a sap, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”

“We broke you good, didn’t we? Shame really, even under duress you gave great head.”

“Shut up, just shut up.” He whined, his own voice distant in his water logged ears.

He slid lower with one final breath, letting the scalding water submerge him, maybe even cleanse him. Little bubbles formed on the surface as he instinctively tried to breathe.

Don’t fight it, Reid. Just let it happen. Death has got to be better than this.

He opened his eyes beneath the water, blurry visions of his ceiling would be the last sight to meet his eyes.

His uncontrollable breathing forced water into his lungs, burning his chest, like a flame ripping right from within him. It was shredding, tearing him apart as his brain instinctively fought for a breath he wouldn’t allow.

“Sinner, I told you so. Suicide is the ultimate sin. You will endure his wrath, boy.”

It was a similar breathlessness he’d grown all too accustomed to in his life. When his dad left and he became responsible for his mothers care. When Tobias literally killed him only to bring him back to life.

When Diane Turner took her life and Maeve’s in one single bullet while Spencer could do nothing but stare in abject horror. When he came face to face with Cat again after his release. When Merva held his blade to his throat, readying Spencer to be his three hundredth victim.

When that man and his cronies crept into his cell and forced him to his knees time after time.

The oxygen was fleeing his brain rapidly, everything was becoming hazy around the edges as though looking at the world in soft focus.

Thoughts and voices coalescing, drifting, fading. Soon it would be dark, soon the sounds would disappear entirely and he would finally be alone.

You won’t win, I won’t let you. I would sooner die than walk among you for another second.

An eerie yet peaceful smile pulled at his lips. Any minute now and it would all be over.

“You think killing yourself makes you a martyr? You think this means you win? Jeez for a so-called genius you really are dumb, huh Spencie?”

“Are your cells giving up? Can you feel it?”

“Walk towards the light, join us in our sacrifice.”

“And you said I was the weak one? What the fuck would your mother think of this?”

“The one who sins is the one who will die. The child will not share the guilt of the parent, nor will the parent share the guilt of the child. The righteousness of the righteous will be credited to them, the wickedness of the wicked will be charged against them.”

Ezekiel 18:19 verse 20. I told you I could recite the bible.

“Such a shame to waste such a skilled and pretty mouth.”

Shut up. Shut up. God-fucking-damnit you can all just shut the fuck…

His consciousness was waning, his brain cells dying. It wouldn’t be long before he suffered irreversible anoxic brain damage. Death was upon him, his fiery talons reaching from the depths to come and take him away.

Yes, please. P-please. This has to e-end. I’m ready for t-the end.

Seconds before Spencer Reid surrendered to the ethereal glow of death, something flickered in his blurry field of vision.

Moments before everything turned dark he swore he saw a figure appear above the haze of water. But before he could register it, the lack of oxygen closed in around him and he let himself fade away into the abyss.

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling @pleasantwitchgarden@ @djsjjsjsjsjsnsnsns @bringitonhomejohnb

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

62 notes · View notes