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drenix004 · 3 days

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LOVING THIS

house of addams (1)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4.3k

— 🍄 summary: hired to look into the mysterious deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, you soon meet a certain gang of oddballs who help you connect the dots. and NO, you are NOT taking a liking to them.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader, cozy small town mystery/addams family vibes, botanist!yoongi, magical absurdity, bookshop owner!namjoon, barista!jin

— 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! directly influenced by this fic on ao3 by tinyratthief, which is loosely based on the addams family.

series m.list/schedule → next chapter

chpt. 1: new digs

september 16, 2004

If this job has taught you one thing, it’s that the laws of truth can and will be bent by anyone with enough concentrated effort. People come to you to find very specific truths; birth parents, cheating spouses, the details of shady business deals.

But if this job has taught you one thing, it's that the truth will also reveal itself to anyone with enough concentrated effort.

Though, there's always a handful of cases that force you to delve deep into things you’d rather leave buried. Like the person in Oregon who didn't show up in any photographs. Or the small town in Maryland with the strange, centuries-old secret society.

You’ve seen sides of human nature that have left you cynical, distrusting. Some have called you “dead inside,” but you’re not here to brag. Naturally, you are excellent at your job.

And when the Mayor of Farrow’s End, a sleepy town with enough missing persons cases to warrant a Netflix documentary, contacted you about a possible case, you accepted almost instantly.

Even her first correspondence and initial offer were strange. She stated a preference to discuss the finer details in person and in person only, which to you immediately suggested that the entire investigation would be a matter of confidentiality.

You were proven right when you met with her a week later. And while being proven right is usually one of your favorite things, you didn’t exactly expect this.

The offer: investigative services regarding (but not limited to) local missing persons/homicides, ecological disturbances, environmental chemical imbalances. etc.

In exchange for: monthly salary, rent support, covered business expenses.

And above all, everything must remain off the books.

The salary along with the rent support is very generous considering what you're used to, but you don’t tell the Mayor that. You do inform her that, while you wear many hats, you are not an ecologist, nor a chemist.

Mayor Summerbee, a middle-aged Asian woman with a sweet smile and even warmer eyes, informs you that you will have access to the local University’s college of natural sciences. She gives you the contact information for one Min Yoongi, a botanist who works in the school's research department.

Then she gives you the contact information for one Kim Taehyung, the town coroner and pathologist. Apparently, both of them will be available for consultation.

She is eager, maybe even desperate, smiling at you with an urgent sheen in her eyes.

When you accept her offer, shaking her hand with your usual firm grip, she seems to exhale in relief.

You move to Farrow’s End by the end of the week. It’s not as if you have much to move, just a trunkful of books and a handful of duffel bags. You’ve always moved around for work, and even if you didn’t, staying in one place for too long makes you nervous.

Your bags hit the pavement beside your boots as you survey your new home. It's a small, quaint house. The paint is faded but the architectural structure is sturdy. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room. The whole place is in a slight state of disrepair, but you can't complain.

You spend the next day cleaning and unpacking, which doesn't take long since you leave most of your books in the trunk. You're exploring the town by the end of the afternoon.

The town square, though full of shops and businesses, is nearly barren. A few civilians putter around, their faces weathered and reflective of the gloom in the air. They stare at you as you pass by, a cocktail of curiosity and slight suspicion.

The next thing you notice is the posters. They're everywhere, on the crumbling brick walls, stuck on lampposts, taped to the windows, all displaying a variety of subjects. Events at the University, local night markets, antiques for sale.

But there are a few that stick out. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE LAKE! Sign the petition to restrict land access →

HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? You're not alone, contact a psychic today!

BEWARE! DO NOT FEED LOCAL WILDLIFE.

Though, what's more strange to you is what you don't see. There are barely any missing person posters, and the few that you do see appear to have been ripped away.

Work begins now, you think to yourself as you snap some photos of several posters, flapping in the cold wind.

You pop into the general store to pick up some essentials, and the store clerk immediately recognizes that you're not a local.

He asks where you're from, you reply with the standard answer: a city not too far but not too close. He asks what you're doing here, you reply with the standard answer: you're a journalist. You add in the suggestion that you're working with the University about a story, and he doesn't question any further.

You're not sure if it's because he takes the hint or because he loses interest.

During the drive home, you notice something looming in the distance. Atop the highest hill is a dark house, with spires and towers rising from the tops of spindly trees. Even from here, you can see that the architecture is old and ornate, almost ancient in a hypnotic way. You're fairly certain you can see a murder of crows circling above.

An unusual feeling hangs around the house, like there's some kind of aura surrounding it. Welcoming some, yet blocking others.

Very strange indeed.

You spend the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace, using the flickering orange light to skim over newspaper clippings.

No, the house does not have a heating system. But you don't mind too much, you have plenty of wood and warm clothes.

Five missing and three dead in the last year. Local law enforcement has done everything they could with what they had to work with, which apparently wasn't much. Scattered locations, no visible connection between the victims, and an alarming lack of evidence.

Eyelids heavy, you leave the papers scattered across the floor and head to bed, already looking forward to tomorrow's first coffee.

september 17, 2004

The University appears to be just as old as the rest of the town. Original wood, aged stone, curved iron accents. The brick walkway is slick with morning rain, and the sky is swirling with fog.

Perfect weather, it makes you ready to get to work.

The directory stated that Min Yoongi would be in Montgomery Hall, the natural sciences building, either in the greenhouse or in one of the labs, according to the TA you talked to earlier on the phone.

It takes some wandering, but what you like about this place is that people don't seem to notice your presence as much as they do in town. Out there, you're an easily identifiable outsider. Here, you're just another passerby with a purpose.

You find him in one of the lab rooms, tucked into a little nook that's encased with plastic sheeting, dotted with beads of moisture. The small space is crowded with greenery, big pots of tall plants with fanning leaves, draping vines from wall planters, seedlings in little trays.

Through the condensation dripping down the plastic walls, you can see that he's spraying the plants down with water, wearing a classic white coat.

You're indulging in your bad habit again. Your footsteps are notoriously quiet (you've been told), and you (apparently) have a tendency to sneak up on people and observe them for several minutes before they notice that you are there.

But it's a skill you delight in.

The man is of average height, thin, black hair, delicate features. You notice that the soles of his boots are caked with mud, and his skin is dewy from the humidifiers pumping moisture into the room.

"You already know my opinion on this," you hear him say, muffled by the spray of the water.

For a moment, you think he's talking to you, that he's rejecting your case before you've even presented it to him. But he isn't facing you, and his tone is decidedly casual, like he's talking to an old friend.

"It's bad for the others, anyway," he continues. "Don't wiggle your trigger hairs at me like that."

A pause, the water flow stops. Then a sigh of defeat.

"Fine, one puff. Then you quit pouting, got it?"

There's the sound of shuffling, then the fwick of a lighter being ignited.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step forward to peer through the slit in the plastic sheeting.

There's a Venus fly trap on one of the shelves, and between the jaws of one of the trap mouths, is a lit cigarette.

The man's head piques up when you enter his field of vision. Eyes widening, he looks like a cat that's been caught off guard.

He looks between you and the plant several times. You're fairly certain you see the tip of the cigarette glow ember, as if the plant were actually inhaling.

The man snatches the cigarette away and crushes it beneath the wet sole of his boot.

"Nasty habit," he finally says with a nervous chuckle. An awkward, straight-mouthed smile crosses his face, making his cheeks puff out slightly.

"Min Yoongi?" you ask.

"Yes, ma'am," he responds politely.

"I'm ______," you say, holding out a hand to shake.

He shuffles forward, his cold slim fingers meeting yours.

"Ah, the mayor mentioned that you'd be around."

That throws you a bit, because from what you've gathered about this case, you assumed that the mayor didn't want to be associated with it.

"Yes, would you mind filling me in on some of the ecological disturbances that have been going on in town?"

It's as if the question sends ants crawling down his spine. His neutral smile dissipates into an anxious twitch of his lips. He turns the hose back on and resumes spritzing the plants.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, a new tension in his voice.

Odd.

"Well," you start, "The mayor tells me that locals have been complaining about strange mushrooms invading their yards, increased acidity in their soil. Would you know anything about that?"

His eyebrows are knitted as he dampens the leaves of a spiraling fern.

"Mushrooms are really just the fruit of fungi, they bloom like flowers when the conditions are just right. Moisture, shade, an abundance of organic material, stuff like that. When it comes to the acidity, there's a variety of factors. All the rainfall recently leads to leaching, and the increased use of fertilizers causes nitrification. It's pretty standard."

You raise an eyebrow. He's deflecting.

"People have been saying that these mushrooms have been particularly hard to get rid of."

Yoongi 's brows furrow as if he's thinking hard.

"Fungi are tricky like that. We don't know much about them, really. They're their own class of life form. It could be a particularly stubborn strain."

"There's also been some unusual plant growth, creeping vines or the like. Very resistant to herbicides, apparently."

He pauses, considers it.

"Hmm," he mutters, the nozzle of the hose going lax in his hand.

“Also,” you continue, trying to further engage his curiosity. “There's been several cases of strange root rot?”

You add a questioning tone to your voice, gauging his reaction. Apparently, he hasn’t heard about it, because he looks up at you with the same question in his eyes.

“Root rot? In household plants?” he asks.

“No, in residencies.”

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“I would benefit a lot from your knowledge, if I could just bring you a few samples, maybe go out and do some fieldwork—”

“You wouldn’t like working with me,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m very…particular.”

You have a feeling the word is meant as a substitute for something else.

“Wonderful, so am I,” you reply, digging one of the many notebooks out of your bag. Flipping to the calendar, you click open your open your pen and start scribbling.

“Mornings are best, get the most out of the daylight. Make sure to bring your equipment and something to write on, and a camera if you have one.”

“Wait, I just don’t know if I’m going to be much use to you,” Yoongi says a little nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You pause your scribbling to look at him. He’s pale in the fluorescent light, but not just physically. He has pale mannerisms and pale expressions, the countenance of a person that doesn’t feel as if they belong.

You know the feeling well.

“Coffee is always on me. How do you like it?” you say instead.

“Does Wednesday work?”

september 18, 2004

Three dead and five missing in less than six months. First, Michael Bradley, aged forty-two. Cause of death: chronic poisoning/exposure to toxic chemicals. He was found in his garage surrounded by household cleaners and herbicides. Apparently he’d been trying to get rid of the same strange mushrooms in his yard.

For now, all you have to work with is what they’ve published in the newspapers, and it seems that all that's come out of it is a public service announcement warning homeowners to be careful around toxic chemicals. His wife, Mary Bradley, hasn't commented on the circumstances of her husband’s death. And no one else has inquired any further into the matter.

Until today, obviously. Mrs. Bradley didn't answer her phone, and when you knocked on her door earlier this morning, she seemed less than pleased.

You opened with the standard introduction: I'm a journalist working on a story, would you mind consenting to an interview? Mrs. Bradley narrowed her eyes and scanned you up and down with barely concealed suspicion.

She asked what a journalist would find interesting about a common, accidental death in a small town. Apparently, the citizens of Farrow's End are very perceptive to outsiders.

You mentioned that fact that although Bradley's death appeared accidental, it's not common for people to die at the hands of household chemicals from prolonged exposure. Chronic poisoning is rarely without symptoms, why didn't he go to hospital?

She didn't have anything to say to that. You asked if she'd be comfortable divulging some of the details of his death, maybe even giving you access to the autopsy report. But she just grimaced at the mention, insisting that she had nothing to say about the matter and that you should leave right away.

She slammed the door in your face, but luckily it wasn't the first time people have resisted your questions. Unfortunately, a significant part of your job involves being a pain in the ass.

You linger in the front yard, where it's impossible not to notice the gnarled tree stumps and large rings of mushrooms scattered across the lawn.

You're not a mycologist by any means, but even you can tell that these mushrooms are strange. They seem to be multicolored, red and orange and brown, changing depending on the light like a hologram, but without any of the shine. They aren't bulb-shaped like many other mushrooms, but twist in tendrils this way and that, stretching.

And a smell hangs about them. You can't really describe it, something like damp and musk and old meat. Standing there, breathing them in, for too long makes your head spin.

And the trees, or rather, what's left of them. Nothing but stumps now, but you can tell that they were old when they were cut down. There's that same multi-colored effect to them, except it runs in veins throughout the tree's bark, spiraling into the rings.

You'll have to ask Yoongi about it.

Curiosity nips at you like a non-venomous snake even after you're home. It's not deadly, but it sure as hell is annoying.

What kind of disease infects fungi and trees? Why would the mayor care about privately investigating such a thing? And a thousand other questions.

You shove your boots on and enter back into the chill. You remember seeing a bookstore in town.

The Magic Shop: Books and Oddities

The front window glows with warm light, crowded with displayed volumes and curiosities (a stuffed raven, a jar of yellowing teeth, insects encased in amber).

The door swings open with the ring of a bell. Someone calls out "Welcome in," in a deep-velvet voice.

The smell of parchment and aged leather envelopes you like a familiar hug. You can't help pausing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. No matter what city you're in, places like this always feel like home.

It's everything that a bookstore should be: crowded, mysterious, and slightly dusty. The shelves are tightly grouped and arranged like a labyrinth few are privy to, and stacks—no, towers—of books occupy every corner.

You enter into the space, feet padding on the braided rugs, eyes drinking in the details. There are labels on the shelves, haphazardly spaced. They start normal enough: gardening, self-help, adventure.

But then you realize that they branch off into even more labels, or rather sub-labels. There's nocturnal gardening, gardening under the influence, Faerie gardens and goblin gardens. Each labeled sub-genre branches into even more specific sub-categories, creating a seemingly endless array of subjects.

You could explore this place for hours. In fact, you intend to over the course of your stay in Farrow's End.

You spend an indeterminate amount of time exploring all the labels and categories. The shelves twist this way and that, creating little nooks where the occasional armchair is tucked into.

Eventually, you come to a more open area with a wide-sprawling desk. The man sitting behind it is tall and tan, glasses perched on his nose, with short chestnut hair that shifts golden in the candlelight.

He's deeply focused on the book in his hands: A Comprehensive Guide to Navigating Parallel Universes and Pocket Dimensions.

Typically, you hate to bother people in a bookstore, especially if they're already reading. It's supposed to be a space for quiet reflection, for self-exploration and uninterrupted browsing. But you still have a job to do, and it's clear that you won't be able to navigate the complicated system yourself. At least, not in a concise period of time.

So you square your shoulders and prepare yourself to address the (handsome, you notice) man at the counter.

"Excuse me," you begin in a hushed voice.

The man's head whips up, as if he completely forgot there was another person here.

"Yes?" He says in that same deep voice, friendly and eager. "Do you need help finding something?" It sounds like he can't quite believe the fact. This place must not get many customers.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

His face lights up as if nothing would delight him more.

"Do you have anything on unusual mushrooms?" you ask.

The man sets down his book and slips out from behind the desk. "Hmm..." he mumbles to himself, expertly weaving between the shelves while you hurry to catch up.

"Let's see here..." he says, passing a wall draped with vines from a hanging planter, like the ones in Yoongi's lab, you notice.

"Fungi," he mutters, fingertips ghosting over the shelves. The sections under Fungi are vast and wide-ranging. Poisons & Antidotes, Moss & Lichens, Carnivorous, Aberrations.

He pauses at that last one, eyes flitting between the volumes.

"Anything specific?" he asks.

You debate on how much to disclose, but with the several cases of strange fungi in people's yards, it's probably common small town knowledge by now.

"Anything about an unusual fungus with...tendrils?" You can't help the hesitation, you're not sure if it's a common feature among mushrooms.

Apparently, it's not as unusual as you thought, because the man only nods and shifts his attention to one of the lower shelves. His slim fingers finally land on an old cloth-bound book with a red toadstool on the spine. There's no title on the cover, but the man seems to be familiar with it.

"Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in this one."

He says it with the confidence of someone who's read every book in the building front to back. A very specific part of your brain tells you that this fact is almost certainly true.

"Thank you very much," you say, turning the book over in your hands.

"My pleasure," he replies, and means it.

"How much?"

He guides you back to the counter and rings it up for a very good price.

You're itching to ask questions, but you're not sure where to start.

The man places the book into a brown paper bag printed with Magic Shop Books and Oddities and hands it to you with a warm smile.

You lose your nerve and take the bag in silence. Then, as if he could smell the fragmented thoughts darting around in your skull, he says, "Be careful in the woods."

You look at him. There's the same friendly smile, but now with a hint of good-natured curiosity.

"If you're going mushroom hunting, I mean," he adds.

You stare at him for perhaps too long.

"Thanks," you say, dropping a generous tip into the jar next to the register.

"Hope to see you again," he calls out as you exit through the front door.

A moth to flame, bees to honey. Insert: you to coffee shops with perfect ambient lighting. You spot it just as you're leaving the narrow alley that leads to the bookshop.

Turning the corner onto a cobblestone walkway, you catch sight of the cafe windows, slick with the recent rain. But from what you can see through the glass, it looks like a warm, cozy place.

Glancing at the front door, you notice an OPEN sign, even though it's quite late. You're opening the door and stepping inside before you're even conscious of it.

The interior reflects the same aged aesthetic as the exterior, dark wood and brick and brass accents. But the kitchen area houses clean chrome appliances, and there are shelves stacked with white dishes behind them. Golden light warms a glass case fully stocked with a manner of pastries, breads, and other nibbles, all of which still seem to be steaming hot.

You immediately decide that you like this place.

"Good evening," a pleasant voice calls, though you can't yet identify the speaker.

The smell of steam and freshly-ground coffee beans becomes richer as you approach the counter. You can hear someone puttering around in the back room.

You glance at the menu's wide selection, and when you look back at the counter, a man is standing right in front of you.

You don't scare easily, but it's enough to make you jump a little.

"What can I get you?" the man asks cheerfully. He's tall and slim, wearing a white button-up and black slacks under an apron. Brown hair, dark eyes, and a full smiling mouth.

You order a coffee and a pastry.

"What time do you close?" you ask, wanting to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere but also not wanting to be the asshole that settles in just before closing.

"On Wednesdays we close at noon, otherwise we're open twenty-four hours," he replies, sounding delighted by rather than annoyed by the fact.

A twenty-four hour coffee shop? You really like this place.

He must see your eyebrows raise in surprise, because then he proudly adds, "Only one in town."

Pleasantly surprised, you look around the shop to assess the seating options. There are booths tucked along the walls, a few tables and chairs, and a few plush-looking armchairs near the windows.

"Please, have a seat and make yourself at home. I enjoy the company," the man says as he makes your drink.

You take him up on it, settling into one of the chairs by the frosted glass of the window. It's then that you take a closer look at the book the shop owner recommended.

A fraying cloth-bound cover, a red toadstool instead of a title. Inside, a table of contents. First, a bit of basic mycology, which you greatly benefit from. Immediately after, a range of mutations, circumstances, and environmental factors that caused the direct disturbance to said mycology.

You get lost in it quite easily, sipping your drink (which is expertly brewed) and nibbling your pastry (which is almost too delicious for words). You know that you'll be spending a considerable amount of time here throughout your stay in Farrow's End.

The book cites several case studies, all suggesting that a new strain of fungus is not only spreading rapidly, but infecting all other strains it has access to.

You read on, only momentarily distracted by the occasional customers that enter into the establishment. Like the group of students, most likely from the University, who order a large batch of espresso to-go. Or the old man who orders a sandwich and black coffee and sits outside despite the late-night chill.

You don't realize it, but you read on until the early morning. The first few faint, pale rays of sunlight stretch across your current page through the window, and you jerk to attention when you realize what time it is.

Not that you have somewhere in particular to be today. But you've always liked to get a jump on things early on in the investigation. And you have better luck getting interviews during the day.

You had no idea that time was passing so quickly. This place seems to have an air of particular tranquility, the kind that only a handful of coffee shops are able to achieve. It's the feeling of finding a quiet place after being overstimulated for hours.

You take your dishes to the counter, drop a tip into the jar, and step into the morning chill.

Exhaustion sets in on the journey home, and you crash moments after your head hits the pillow.

The dreams start that night.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! love to hear any of ur thoughts 👉👈

NEXT CHAPTER RELEASE: 05/08/24

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drenix004 · 9 days

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The rabbit himself

Behold the boy

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drenix004 · 9 days

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Loving this ♡♡♡♡

Bite The Hand

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, dog motif, kind of some fluff, no use of y/n. RE6 era Leon.

Words: 2,155

Part one

It was a month before that familiar knock came to your door, you had almost started to think he wouldn't come back. Not that he hadn't been gone this long before, but things just felt different when he left, the air in your house had shifted, like all of his things were leaking toxic gas into the air, poisoning you with a desperation for him to come back.

You had to drag yourself from your bed to the front door, you had been waiting for him, but a fear of seeing him again was now building in your bones. You didn't know how things were going to go.

"Hey." His voice seemed softer than last time, he wasn't asking to come in with flattery and sweet words like he typically did. He was just here. Acting as if there was far more keeping you apart than the threshold of the doorway. Maybe there was.

"Come in." You opened the door wider for him, he stepped inside like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"I brought you juice, your favorite kind." The sweetness in his voice didn't reach the rest of him. He couldn't look you in the eyes, he didn't slip off his shoes, or take off his jacket, he was just carefully holding out the juice for you to take. If he left again now he wouldn't come back.

Carefully you took the juice from him, setting it down, it was the expensive organic kind, the kind you never got growing up. "Thank you." You helped him with his jacket, slipping it off of him and hanging it up, an invitation to stay, which he seemed hesitant to accept.

He still wouldn't look at you, by now he'd typically be all over you, on your heel or begging for something. But he wasn't. He was shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, as if avoiding the situation he put himself in.

The silence was tense, like he was battling with himself. "Did you miss me?" He tried to be coy, trying to be playful, a wolfish grin on his face, but his eyes couldn't even land on your figure, not even your silhouette. Like you were something blinding to him, something so radiant he couldn't even lay eyes on you.

You didn't know how to approach this, he seemed so nervous, anxious to even be around you. "Always." You chose honesty, all you wanted was for him to stay, to choose to be with you, have a domestic life. But he wasn't that kind of person, not with his work. "You know I worry for you, right?"

Each time you'd say something it was like he couldn't hear you, visibly tensing at just the sound of your voice. Leon's eyes finally met yours, but they still held some distance. His hands clenched at his sides, as if he was restraining himself. Like they were physically tied.

His eye's seemed to be all clouds today, lacking that warmth they typically held, even on bad days. His eyebrows were tight knit, he was biting his cheek, making him look like he had a pout. He had built himself a barrier between him and you, he wouldn't touch you.

"You look nice." His voice was soft, strained. He seemed unusually tense in your presence, like he was backed into a corner. But he wasn't, he was in control here, you'd let him do anything he needed to. He just didn't understand that.

His sweet words and actions didn't match his demeanor, his behavior.

You took a small step closer to him, he was putting on an act for you. Trying to be an 'ideal' version, but he was failing miserably. "I don't. Stop pretending." How could you even explain you would take him as he is? How could you tell him he didn't need to be a perfect creature, that he didn't have to distill out the best parts of himself to give to you. He was fine as he'd come to you.

As you moved closer Leon leaned in, moving towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pawing at you a little. He had a more genuine need to be around you in him now. "But you do." He spoke it like a promise, an oath or testament to his belief that you looked nice.

You tested the limits of his touch, gently grabbing ahold of his face in your hands, wanting him to melt into your touch like he sometimes did, or waiting for him to pull away.

He stayed, letting you hold him, looking into your eyes. You'd been warned not to look a dog in it's eyes, its like a challenge of dominance, but maybe your stray would let you have him today.

He was stiff for a moment, before conceding. He seemed conflicted, but gave you a soft smile, it didn't fully meet his eyes, if anything it was sad.

Leaning more into you he brought his lips to your forehead, testing your waters. When you didn't pull away he moved to kiss your lips. It was soft and gentle, featherlight, like he was afraid he'd hurt you, or accidentally devour you whole. You couldn't help but lean into him, deepening the kiss, searching for more, searching for a love just out of reach. Pulling him into you as if you were gravity itself.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. You were suddenly afraid you'd gone too far, asked for too much from your skittish stray. "I can't love you how you want me to."

"What are you so afraid of? What do you think would happen if you just let yourself be loved?" You couldn't stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat cutting you off from being able to say more.

"Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am? What do you wanna say? What do you think will change?" He pulled away from you, barking his questions at you, his face showing irritation and sudden disdain. "You know how I am."

"What is so wrong with me that I'm enough to be used, but not enough to stay for?" You finally got the words out, balling your hands into fists at your sides, trying to hold back your tears by digging crescents into your palms with your nails.

"Maybe I'm..." He paused, trying to find his words. His face softening towards you, understanding your insecurity and why you'd believe yourself to be the problem. You were always like that. Like him. "I'm afraid of you."

He was scared you'd leave him, abandon him to wander the streets, looking for something else to devour, something other than your love. That you'd see him for what he really was, a stray, an unwanted dog, chained so tightly to a leash he'd killed all the grass under his anxious feet, trying to get just another inch to move, another inch of freedom.

Some men are just dogs.

But you already knew he was a stray. You knew he could be ravenous, be driven to bite the hand that feeds him.

"I'll hurt you over and over again, I can't be changed. Not anymore. You don't get it, just being around you puts you in danger. There's people who, if they knew I cared about you, they would try to use you against me, anything to keep me following their orders." He wanted you to understand, to understand he wasn't a violent dog. He was trying to keep you safe. Safe from him.

"Leon, I don't actually give two shits about any of that. I don't care. I just want you in my life, to make sure you're taken care of." You didn't dare move closer to him, he already felt cornered.

"I care! I don't want you getting hurt." He yelled at you, his hair getting in his eyes, making him look angrier than he was. "I can't love you how you want me to. I wouldn't if I could." His voice went cold.

You stopped at his words, really pausing to think about them. Letting them tear into you, sink deep into your skin. "Why?"

"I don't deserve you. I never have. I wasn't made to be able to hold something as nice as you." He looked away from you, no more bite in his voice.

"Who told you that?" You stepped closer to him, challenging every bit of trust you two held for the other.

"Life did. I'll tear you apart if you let me, you can't let me. I'm not someone who gets good meals, a warm home, or enough love to fill myself full, to be satiated. I was made for scraps. I don't want to devour your love, but I'm too starved to receive it without becoming ravenous for more, I'll consume you whole if I'm not careful." He let you come closer, not snapping or snarling at you.

You couldn't stop yourself from grabbing him, pulling him into you and hugging him. "I don't care if you do, you deserve all the love I could ever be able to give you. You should never have to search for scraps. You never should have been left outside on a leash too short for you. Leon, you're not the beast you think you are. You weren't made to destroy, everyone was made to be loved by someone."

Leon was stiff in your arms for a long time. Before he slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, breaking down in tears. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering softly as he cried.

"You're not mean by nature Leon, you're actually very sweet, hell, you're awkward. And it's adorable, and funny. Stop believing yourself to be bad, see yourself how you let me see you sometimes. I love you Leon, and you don't have to love me, but please just let me love you. Let me be someone who can be here for you, support you, and let me feed you." You pet his hair as he nuzzled his face into you, sniffling softly.

"I don't know how." He admitted. "Not anymore. I wish you knew me before all the hell, when I was young and all too eager to lap up any love I could, dying to love others and receive their approval."

"Is that not what you do with me every time you come to my door?" You kept holding him, letting him pull away if he needed, but he stayed. He chose to stay.

"I was different when I was young." He held you tighter, lifting you and carrying you to your couch, laying you down before crawling over you, sandwiching himself between you and the back of the couch, laying his head on your stomach.

"So was I. Who wasn't?" You asked softly, slowly feeling him relax. "You can come and go as you need, I'm not trying to suffocate you, and I'm not trying to change you or pull you away from things. I just want to love you."

"I want to love you too." He rested his chin on your stomach so he could look up at you, he looked more like the Leon you saw underneath everything now. His eyes that more familiar blue that you loved so dearly. His eyes that showed him, all of him. Everything he's been through.

He could still leave tomorrow, and you'd still let him go, because you knew he'd come back. He always would. "I'm glad we talked, we don't do a lot of that. Maybe we should talk more."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'll work on not doing that." He promised you. "I want to be the one who keeps the pain away from you, not causing it. I want to keep you safe, and see you smile. I have to leave sometimes to do that. But I'll come back. You know how I am."

"I know how you are." You pet his head, playing with his hair, brushing it out of his face to see him better, repeatedly running your hand through his thick blonde hair, scratching his scalp softly. "I changed the sheets in the spare room you use sometimes, you're welcome to stay if you want to."

"You're sure you want me around?" He was more relaxed with you than he'd been in a long time.

"Of course I am." You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Wishing he'd stay, stay for you. Stay with you. "I'd do anything to keep you around for as long as I can."

"Then I'll stay." He agreed. He'd stayed the night so many times, taking the couch, or the spare room. Sometimes even daring to follow you to your bed. But this was the first time he said he'd stay. "For a glass of juice and some more of your cooking." He added playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him, ruffling his hair. "Fine, a glass of juice and a warm meal just for you."

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drenix004 · 13 days

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Loving this ♡♡♡

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Five – Panther Down}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin: Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

Words: 3.3k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter contains extreme BDSM practices, degradation, violence, shooting, and slight blood.

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

3rd Person's POV

Heaven dressed in her black wide-legged pants, a sleek red strapless top, and a matching black suit coat.

Her hair was meticulously styled in a tight bun, her make-up adding a touch of mystery and allure to her determined expression.

Today marked a pivotal moment in her life, the day she had been preparing for - the day she would stand up for the hybrids, the marginalized and oppressed group that had long been ignored and mistreated in the shadows of society.

This was her chance to make a difference, to show that someone was willing to fight for their rights and freedom.

However, as she made her way to carry out her plan, a shadow loomed over her resolve. Black Eagle, the formidable leader of the opposition, had caught wind of her intentions and had dispatched his men to thwart her efforts.

But what he didn't realize was that Heaven was not an easy target. Behind her elegant facade and delicate appearance lay a sharp mind, unwavering determination, and a reservoir of strength that made her a formidable opponent.

Black Eagle had underestimated her, forgotten the true nature of the person he was facing.

Heaven was no ordinary human being, she was a force to be reckoned with, a blend of beauty and power, grace and resilience.

Her outward appearance belied the complexities of her character, the depths of her convictions, and the lengths she was willing to go to achieve her goals.

As she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, Heaven knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers. But she was ready, prepared to face whatever obstacles came her way in her quest to save the hybrids and make a stand against injustice.

Black Eagle's mistake was assuming she was just a pretty face, unaware of the fierce spirit that burned within her, ready to ignite a revolution and change the course of history for those who had been marginalized for too long.

Heaven's POV

As I stood in my suite, facing the group of boys who I had vowed to protect, a feeling of determination surged through me. I knew that bringing justice to them and every other hybrid in the building would not be easy, but it was a cause I was willing to fight for.

"Okay, guys, I hope you're ready," I began, my voice firm but with a hint of warmth.

"This will not be pretty, it might be traumatizing, but I want you to know that I won't let anyone touch you."

I looked at each of them, their expressions a mix of fear and gratitude.

"Once we leave this place," I continued, "remember that you do not belong to anyone. You shouldn't bow your head or avert your eyes when you make eye contact, understood?"

The boys, dressed elegantly thanks to my efforts, nodded in unison. I smiled at them, trying to convey reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Min-Soo entered the room. He bowed his head in respect, but his demeanor quickly changed when he caught sight of the seven men before him.

His reaction was unsettling, the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes made my blood boil. I watched as his cheeks reddened, and he awkwardly tried to hide his reaction.

The realization that Min-Soo was also complicit in the exploitation of hybrids added fuel to my already brewing rage.

"If you are done checking out my hybrids," I said coldly, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "I would appreciate it if you led the way."

The embarrassment on Min-Soo's face was evident as he fumbled with his words and gestured for us to follow him.

As we made our way to the event, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air.

Despite the obstacles ahead, I was determined to stand up for what was right and protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The road to justice might be long and arduous, but I knew that with each step we took, we were one step closer to making a difference in the lives of hybrids everywhere.

As we exited the suite and ventured down a different hallway this time, Min-Soo took the lead, guiding us further below the building into what seemed like an underground showroom.

The atmosphere was eerie, and my instincts told me to be on high alert, so I discreetly stationed all my guards and Hit-men strategically around us, ready for any unforeseen circumstances.

Upon entering the large room, I couldn't help but gasp in horror at the spectacle before us.

The room reeked of sweat and primal desires as humans engaged in vile forms of intimate activities with hybrids.

The scene was overwhelming, with individuals indulging in not only intimate acts but also harsh BDSM practices like Knife Play, Fire Play, Electrostimulation Play, Breast Torture, Blood Play, and more.

The sight was deeply disturbing, especially seeing the hybrids submit with a mix of fear and resignation in their eyes. They bore the scars of trauma and abuse, and it fueled a fiery rage within me.

I made a mental note of each perpetrator's face, vowing that they would face justice for their heinous acts against these innocent beings.

Despite the seething anger boiling inside me, I knew that acting solely on emotion would not serve justice.

Suppressing my emotions, I maintained a composed facade as I led the group towards a secluded table, with the seven men following closely behind.

In that moment, a sense of grim determination settled over me, knowing that justice would prevail, even in the face of such darkness.

As we strolled through the dimly lit hall, I couldn't help but notice the astonishment in the eyes of the people around us.

There was a certain tension in the air, and I could sense it wasn't because of me. It was the hybrids walking alongside me that seemed to be causing a stir.

I had to fight the urge to lash out at the staring onlookers and instead focused on keeping my composure, avoiding any signs of superiority towards my boys.

Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, despite being in a familiar and hostile environment, barely showed any signs of fear but what caught me off guard, however, were Taehyung, Jimin, Jin, and Yoongi.

They appeared relaxed and unaffected, almost nonchalant, yet there was something unsettling about the dark and dangerous energy they exuded.

I could read the emotions playing across their faces like an open book. While the other three showed some signs of apprehension, it paled in comparison to the simmering anger and resolve I saw in the gazes of the rest.

Just then, a man who appeared to be in his thirties approached our group, flashing a crooked smile. I could sense his approach from the way his steps echoed on the floor, and I prepared myself for the forthcoming encounter.

“Heaven-” he began, but I cut him off, asserting my position with a firm tone, “It's Ms. Valentino, to you,” I interjected, already feeling my annoyance building towards the man.

“Urhm- yes, Ms. Valentino, it's an honor to finally meet you. My name is Gil-O Park. I own Park Enterprises,” he proudly introduced himself, as if assuming I held a vested interest in his business endeavors.

I regarded him cooly, silently urging him to get to the point of his approach.

“I think you've heard of it; we own a chain of five-star hotels across the country and internationally-” he continued, and I decided to interject once again, uninterested in his self-promotion.

“Okay, and so… what's that got to do with me? Just cut to the chase and tell me what it is that you want,” I stated bluntly, my impatience shining through.

He seemed momentarily taken aback by my directness, but quickly composed himself,

“Uh, haha, you're pretty straightforward, huh,” he muttered under his breath, though I caught his words clearly.

“I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me,” he finally stated, a glint of confidence in his eyes as he addressed me. Internally, I couldn't help but scoff at his presumptuousness, evident in both his tone and stance.

Who does he think he is? My mind raced with indignation at the man's audacity.

Before I could say anything, I felt a hand on my thigh, and my ire escalated as I heard a deep, low growl emanating from the Hybrid seated beside me.

Jimin's protective stance sent a shiver down my spine.

“This woman here is mine, so I suggest you walk away from here before I do something terrible,” Jimin's growl reverberated with authority, catching me off guard yet not entirely surprised by his fierce reaction.

Gil-o's disdainful gaze met Jimin's, and with a scoff, he unleashed a string of degrading words, belittling the Hybrid before him.

“Ha, pesky Hybrid, how dare you speak to a master with such insolence. I could end you with just the snap of my finger,” Gil-o's arrogance oozed with condescension, provoking a sense of unease in the air.

"You're one of those perverse ones, I think I need to teach you a lesson, you filthy piece of-" Gil-o's threatening words were cut short as I swiftly intercepted, seizing his wrist in a forceful grip, twisting it in an uncomfortable angle that elicited a piercing cry of pain from the man.

“Continue talking, I DARE YOU,” venom laced my voice as I maintained the pressure on his wrist, his pained expression urging me to retaliate further.

“C'mon, say something. Cat got your tongue or what?! Huh?!” My voice rose, drawing the attention of onlookers, as I held Gil-o in a vice-like grip, asserting my authority.

“This is for thinking you could say whatever the hell you felt like saying to my Hybrid,” my tone was laced with unwavering resolve as I broke his wrist, compelling a cry of agony from the man writhing in pain on the ground.

“This is for thinking odious thoughts about me and my hybrids,” my voice remained firm as I snapped a bone in his arm, his wails filling the air with anguish.

“And finally, this is for thinking you could put your filthy hand on my Hybrid, especially without his consent,” a surge of protective fury coursed through me as I crushed his fingers one by one, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body, rendering him helpless and humiliated on the ground.

It was a tense moment in the room as my men escorted the wailing man out.

The atmosphere was thick with fear and everyone's eyes avoided meeting mine. I took a seat calmly, not fazed by the commotion I had just caused.

As I settled back into my chair, I turned my attention to Jimin, who appeared visibly shaken by the events that had unfolded.

With a soft tone and a hint of concern, I addressed him, trying to comfort him amidst the chaos surrounding us.

"Hey, sweetie, are you okay?" I inquired gently, hoping to alleviate some of the distress he was feeling.

Jimin's wide-eyed stare and gaping mouth indicated his shock, leaving him at a loss for words in the face of the unexpected situation.

Despite the tension in the room, I attempted to maintain a sense of composure and control, showing a softer side in my interaction with Jimin.

Jimin's POV

In that intense moment, emotions surged through me like a ferocious storm. My heart pounded with a mixture of adrenaline, gratitude, and disbelief at what had just transpired.

As I braced myself to confront the man who had instigated the unsettling situation, an unexpected twist unfolded before my eyes. The woman by my side, in an act of unparalleled courage and solidarity, shielded me from harm.

The sheer audacity of her actions left me speechless. It was a rare experience to have someone go to such lengths to defend me, reminiscent of the unwavering support I had only known from my own brothers.

Every fiber of my being was touched by the depth of her loyalty, and it was a struggle to maintain composure amid the overwhelming wave of emotions that washed over me.

Her gaze bore into mine, overflowing with genuine concern and kindness. Despite the chaos that had just unfolded, her words resonated with warmth and reassurance, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

It was as if she had effortlessly transitioned from a delicate, nurturing presence to a fierce, unstoppable force, leaving me in awe of her unwavering strength.

In that poignant moment of connection, I found solace in her unwavering support. With a silent nod of acknowledgment, a silent understanding passed between us.

Her smile held a promise of unwavering loyalty, a silent pledge to always stand by my side and protect not just me, but all of us who stood united in the face of adversity.

Her touch on my thigh sent a jolt of comfort through me, a physical reassurance that mirrored the depth of her unwavering commitment.

The gentle pressure of her hand, the rhythmic motion of her soothing gesture, conveyed a silent message of solidarity and support.

In that fleeting yet profound moment, I felt a sense of security knowing that I was not alone, that her unwavering presence would be a beacon of light in even the darkest of times.

As I absorbed the depth of her actions and the sincerity of her words, a newfound sense of gratitude and respect blossomed within me.

In a world where strength and compassion are often seen as conflicting, she embodied a rare balance of both, serving as a guiding light in the tumultuous sea of emotions that enveloped us.

In her simple yet profound gesture, I found a glimmer of hope and a renewed faith in the power of human connection.

And as we faced the unknown together, I knew that her unwavering presence would be a constant source of strength and solace, a reminder that in the face of adversity, we are never truly alone.

Yoongi's POV

Observing her since the moment she purchased us for that exorbitant sum has been an intriguing experience, to say the least.

Initially, my perception of her was tinged with a hint of skepticism, as I entertained the notion that she might be one of those individuals harboring unconventional and perhaps questionable desires, particularly in seeking out seven rare predator hybrids.

There was a certain air of ostentation surrounding her, leading me to speculate that she might be someone enamored with displaying affluence that wasn't entirely earned, a characteristic often observed in those who revel in the ostentatious flaunting of wealth without a second thought.

Despite these initial reservations, I must admit there was an undeniable allure about her upon our first encounter. A mysterious pull that hinted at a deeper complexity beneath the surface, one that I hesitated to acknowledge openly.

As time passed, my perceptions began to shift. Witnessing her assertive and uncompromising demeanor as she asserted her dominance over someone of her own kind in defense of a species considered inferior by societal standards, I couldn't help but be drawn to the darker, more enigmatic facets of her character.

In stark contrast to the superficiality often associated with affluent social circles, she exuded a sense of depth and intrigue that set her apart from the typical affluent elite or individuals who merely squandered inherited wealth.

There was an inherent sense of danger and unpredictability that accompanied her every action, a quality that both thrilled and unsettled those in her orbit.

Unlike the vapid materialism of her counterparts or the insatiable cravings for fulfillment seen in disenchanted spouses or privileged youths, she embodied a multifaceted persona that defied easy categorization.

Beneath her formidable exterior lay a veil of mystery, hinting at secrets and unknown truths waiting to be unveiled. It was this enigmatic quality that set her apart, shrouding her in an aura of intrigue and unease that captivated the attention of all who crossed her path.

Reflecting on the way Heaven's presence has affected me and the others, I find myself in a state of both intrigue and caution. The magnetic pull towards her is undeniable, a force that tugs at my instincts as a hybrid.

While I strive to maintain a sense of wariness, I concede that she has proven herself to be a figure of safety in our midst.

The recent discussions among our group have shed light on the complexities of our possessiveness towards our assigned humans. It is a natural inclination for hybrids like us to exhibit possessive tendencies, a primal instinct rooted in our genetic makeup.

However, the intensity of Jimin's protective aura towards Heaven has brought forth a heightened sense of vigilance and curiosity among us.

The peculiar aspect of Jimin's behavior lies in the fact that his possessiveness extends beyond the usual boundaries observed among hybrids.

Typically, such displays serve as a signal to other hybrids that a human has been claimed, but in this case, it seems to transcend such norms, piquing our interest and triggering a sense of impending change within our group dynamics.

As I observe the dynamics unfolding within our circle, it becomes apparent that the manifestations of possessiveness vary among us.

While Jimin and Taehyung exhibit more overt signs of attachment to Heaven due to their frequent interactions with her, the rest of us navigate this uncharted territory with a degree of restraint and contemplation.

The enigmatic allure of Heaven Valentino remains a source of fascination for me, a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. Her presence evokes a sense of curiosity and intrigue within me, prompting a desire to delve deeper into the mysteries that surround her.

In the midst of uncertainty and evolving dynamics, I find solace in the prospect of unraveling the enigma that is Heaven.

Despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, I am drawn to the challenge of understanding the depths of her essence and the profound impact she has on all of us.

3rd Person POV

The lights in the room suddenly went off and the sound of a gun being fired was heard. The entire room was filled with the smell of gunpowder, creating an eerie atmosphere.

The sound of people screaming and heavy footsteps echoed through the room, heightening the tension in the air.

“Let the show begin,” Heaven said with a malicious glint in her eyes, sending shivers down the spines of those around her.

The men all swiftly got into position as Black Eagles' men lunged at them, a chaotic battle unfolding before their eyes.

Heaven calmly removed her coat and assumed a fighting stance, her movements fluid and precise.

As one of the men threw a punch in her direction, Heaven effortlessly dodged it and counterattacked, throwing him over her shoulder and onto a nearby table with a loud crash.

Seemingly unfazed, she then faced two other men wielding knives, a devious smirk playing on her lips.

With impeccable agility, Heaven swiftly maneuvered out of the way, performing a backflip that caused the two men to collide with each other, their own weapons piercing through their bodies with a sickening squelch.

Rushing to the side of the room, Heaven activated her earpiece with a sense of urgency.

“Jay now!” she ordered, her voice commanding and authoritative.

More men flooded into the room, engaging in fierce combat with the initial group as the tension escalated. Heaven wasted no time and sprinted towards her hybrids, who were holding their own in the chaotic confrontation.

“Joon, cover me!” she directed, pulling out her gun to provide support. Namjoon quickly sprang into action, coming to her defense and skillfully dispatching the assailants in his path with calculated precision.

A sudden, piercing growl of pain echoed through the room, causing a momentary freeze among the hybrids and Heaven. Their heads turned in unison towards the source of the sound, dread settling in their hearts.

Jungkook had just been shot, his body sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey there, gorgeous readers!🥰

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of our story. Wasn't that ending just a rollercoaster of emotions?

I know, I know, poor Kookie getting shot broke all of our hearts! Writing that scene was just as heart-wrenching, but hey, that's what makes a good story, right?

But hey, no worries! Things will definitely start looking up in the next chapter. Trust me, I've got some exciting twists and turns planned that will send you on a wild ride.

So buckle up and get ready for the next part of our adventure!

And hey, don't forget to leave your comments and a like.

Your warm thoughts and feedback mean the world to me and keep me inspired to keep churning out more chapters for you all to devour.

Your support is what keeps me going, and I can't thank you all enough for being the best readers ever!

Sending all my love to each and every one of you! 🤭😜

Your cheesy Author-nim.

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004, @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud

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drenix004 · 15 days

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Me:

American Mate - (4)

First Case of Alpha Space

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4132

Work count for Story: 16,244

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises.

You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. The external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them.

Things would be difficult for a while because you are right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some kind of compliance from your award left hand.

Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better writing than you did. Dictation software to save the day!

Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than Evie. Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both.

“Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.”

You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.

“Thanks Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”

“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor.” Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.

”Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.

“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.”

Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate explains.”

Derek opens the break room door to face Hosek, Teahyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, who are all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”

Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously.

“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”

“그 사람 괜찮아요?”

“Why does she still smell hurt?”

“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop.

“I do not know Korean for one and for two Mr. Min has gone into full non-verbal Alpha Space and I am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation and she needs to talk with Director Johnson.”

At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.

The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.

“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment dealing with the playmates, corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” Namjoon apologizes as he enters the room.

He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly.

They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.

They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws.

Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space.

“Namjoon-hyung, Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door.

“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I have to talk with the Director.”

A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls, as if you vex them more than you humanly possible.

“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste.

“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs. It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment, he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.”

“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”

“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic.” Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare.

“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother.”

At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”

“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious.” He smiles and shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door.

“Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”

“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good Luck.” Derek bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.

Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room.

As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr.Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”

“Our human? So you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.

Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. “At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha space. It would be hard to miss.”

“The other two?” someone asks.

Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three. “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”

“Meanwhile I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run away with her.” Derek leaves the pack to mull over the new information.

“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates.

“Should we stay out here? Miss y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hosek adds.

Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift.

He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.

“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group.

“I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin says, feeling relief that no one seems to be fighting this. “Namjoon is in with the rest of the pack and Miss Y/n, we should go in. From what Mr. Gulley says, Miss y/n does not seem to understand the situation to the fullest. I just hope that Namjoon can clear some things up.”

“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut.

He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols.

Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.

Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?”

At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound at what you said.

Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.

Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”

With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.”

Thinking to himself, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’

“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta packmember. As an Alpha, Yoongi instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.”

Watching as you seem to sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”

“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated? I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”

You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity that would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?

Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer.

Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively.

Taehyung starts to purr softly, hoping that the sound will comfort you.

Jungkook, on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg.

The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others.”

“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoogni ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too.”

“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?”

Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha.

A soft chuckle escapes Namjoons as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you.”

Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”

“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” The door opens slightly to reveal it’s him.

At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside.

“Did you contact everyone?”

“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.

Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor.”

Glancing at the boys surrounding you closely, his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.

Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”

“Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”

“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”

“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”

Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our AirBnB would be best.”

You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain. They cannot all fit in your flat; it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.

They don’t seem to like being here. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick.

“Okay. If it is best for the pack, then I will go with you to the AirBnB and see Dr. Blackwell.”

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath.

“Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor.

Jungkook stands and curls into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains near. His body is more relaxed and his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.

After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the Jaguar kneeling with expectant but questioning eyes.

“Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things and then you can take me to the pack house?”

Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly handsome rapper look so adorable?

He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave.

“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?”

“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.

Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”

Making it to your desk is more complicated than one would think.

Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then you have the rest of BTS trailing behind like some kind of posse.

You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile.

“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”

Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you, “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time and she will be treated at our temporary pack house by our doctor.”

You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated.”

“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates I will let you both know?”

Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself still.”

Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here. We can handle it while you heal.”

Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.

“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain.

Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”

“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger.

“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he slowly approaches you.

“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor.”

His eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.

As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.

A soft whisper in your ear, “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you,” with one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk.

“Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”

With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing, your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon, waiting for a clue as to what to do next.

“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hosek-hyung, and Jimin also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator.”

“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.

“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Junkook says while inching towards the office doors.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I have everything. Lead the way.”

You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass.

You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?

Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate towards you.

Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall.

That added to the embarrassment for now and when you return to work.

Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next.

However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you.

The energy calms down as the doors close. The four Alphas relax now that they surround you and will start taking care of you.

Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them.

As the doors part, you're greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards.

Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space, “Take home. Keep safe.”

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drenix004 · 16 days

Note

Me:

Hello, i see that you're now taking requests, if i may ask, could you continued your human reader x hybrid COD men, please? I dont have any specific idea about the lore, i just want to see more of their interactions. If you're not mind or bussy of course, regardless, thank you!

Only Human pt.4

Pairing: Monster TF141 + Horangi & König x reader

Cw: wound/injury, fussing, overprotective behaviour, sneaking out, drinking, hangover, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2,9k Note: I wrote this on and off so some parts might not make any sense… just uh.. sorry in advance. And I’m sorry for taking so long!!

Only Human masterlist

You were ashamed to admit it, but you liked their attention, the fussing and careful scurrying around you. You liked having them put their best into caring for you, big hands gentle and small hands meticulous for you, every aspect that made them so big and dangerous mellowed down to the danger of a small pup, harmless and adorable —they clung to you like bright-eyed and lost pups anyway, especially Soap, tapping into his inner wolf and acting as one more often than he did as a man when you got soft and cuddly. They were careful around you when you were wounded, you were human while they were hybrids with strength rivaling an army. You were slightly bothered that you couldn’t treat yourself, having a fellow medic patch you up with skilful and steady hands.

You shot her a pained smile, bordering on a wince, and she laughed, her whole body wracked with laughter when you told her your supposed embarrassing story about how you got shot by sheer chance from people who didn’t even know how to hold a gun correctly. She was like an older sister to you, more experienced and face wrinkled from exhaustion and stress, long nights in the infirmary did little for the complexion. She talked you through the process despite you adamantly swearing that you knew it by heart from reciting it over and over for the men you worked with (she knew, but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth when the occasion to tease her younger coworker?).

König sat you through all the hissing and teeth grinding you did, biting your lip until it bled to stop yourself from making too much sound, it graced König with little whimpers and groans that he wished were from another occasion. He held your hand, feeling your smaller one wrapped around his palm, fingers slipping between his and your dull nails sink into his knuckles, the skin dried and cracked from his lack of care. And when you started grumbling lowly about knowing how to care for the few stitches she gave you and making sure you didn’t get an infection or pull them, but she pushed on, ignoring both your annoyed grumbling and König’s amusement.

When she was done, you were free to leave when the drip emptied it’s saline into your body, a little boost or recharge depending on how you looked at it until you showered and went to bed. Saline might help tide the nausea and confusion, but without true rest, you wouldn’t heal properly. You gave it half an hour or so until it stopped, giving you ample time to relax into König’s broad figure, his body moulding to fit yours. You slumped into his chest, back melting into the warm arms that wrapped a round your, careful about the needle and your freshly-wrapped thigh. He was warm and tender, a hand smoothing circles on your good thigh, coaxing you to close your eyes in exhaustion and pain. Your body burned despite the numbness and heaviness in your limbs, your nerves fried by the lingering effect of adrenaline, hungover from it and a throbbing wound.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to rest your eyes a bit, seeing that König had no intention of moving from his spot as your big, big teddy bear. Afterwards, you’d get something to eat after a relaxing and cleansing shower, it was well deserved at this point. You wondered if Horangi or Rudy cooked you something, they’ve always had such a meticulous hand in cooking, your rumbling stomach agreed with your thoughts, mouth almost salivating at the though of food.

“We’ll get you something to eat after, ja?” You felt his shoulders shaken with quiet laughter, hearing your stomach growl embarrassingly loudly for a room without any audience.

“I’d like that.”

Price gave you the next few days off, letting you spend your hours of rest doing whatever you liked, be it read, laze around or sleep. You couldn’t do too many physical activities without affecting your wound, too much pressure or movement could aggravate it, break your stitches and force you into a longer down time when you could get fixed up faster and get back in action much faster if you didn’t play with it.

You used your first day following whoever you stumbled into first, limping your way around the base until you found them running drills, once through an obstacle course with it’s walls, car tires, mud-covered crawls, the ropes and the many poles they had to scale or slide. It was a separate course built for hybrids, who’s bodies were more resilient that any of their parents, built for battle and triumph, but it was placed away from the others, the instilled fear of hybrids still so present in modern days. Despite being human, you liked training with them, passing the same course they did, you did so in need of being thought trustworthy, reliable and strong.

And since you sat out on the drill, they got competitive, snarling and growling at one another, teeth snapping and butting heads in a show of strength. It reminded you of bucks showing off their broadness, the strength and power they had over other bucks —competitors to breed. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer hilarity of seeing them hiss and snap at each other without touching or sabotaging, like little puppies fighting for one toy, which you figured would be you at the end of this squabble.

You couldn’t remember who bested the rest, but it was amusing to watch them run through the obstacle twice, sweating, panting and gasping, knowing full well that there were other things to do after this course. You limped along them, Gaz’sarm wrapped around your waist on the way to the shooting range where you’d - once more - watch them train their aiming and work out the kinks of a new rifle. He sat you against the wall and left you to the others while he got his rifle from the armoury, asking for a second pair of earmuffs to cover your ears.

You watched on in amusement as they scramble to best the others, testing the new rifle they were given. The knock back on the weapon was worlds stronger than the usual one, but the shot was proportional to it, stronger and packing more power that dented the cement behind it with each blow. It was a powerful gun that would be used by hybrids and monsters operators like TF141 and KorTac, used as powerful breaching weapons or in higher case scenarios. To balance the strength of it, the sound was as loud as an explosion, a booming sound that rang in your ear despite the plugs that sat protectively over your ears. Fortunately, this session lasted much shorter than the prior one and you were left to do whatever you wanted while they did their weights.

Every day was a repetitive cycle, watching them train and doing something to spend your time. On the first day, you spent the time resting, body lagging behind the others and sloppily limping around the base with your eyes drooping on occasions and your body heavy with exhaustion. You figured that you’d watch any show on the rec room’s flat screen, mindlessly watching scene fly by without absorbing it in and hoping you’d fall asleep after a while. And you did, your lids closing when you felt something heavy cover you and warm bodies wrapped around you in a strong and comforting hold.

When König went to search for you, he found you cuddling up with Ghost and Alejandro, their bigger bodies slumped into you to cover you in their warmth. Alejandro had his arm over your shoulder, wrapping around Ghost’s back, and Ghost gripped his waist, arm slipping under you to touch Alejandro, one man pulling the other closer to squeeze you between them. It looked so cozy that König was almost jealous that he couldn’t join in, but he wouldn’t wake you up from your slumber, the dark bags beneath your eyes screaming your exhaustion.

You had more energy the next day after spending many hours sleeping and catching up on it. You were practically on your toes the moment König knocked on your door, here to pick you up before breakfast. He stared at your wide smile and jovial expression, slightly confused about your unending mirth. While he wanted to stay with you, he had to leave you under Gaz and Rudy’s care, hoping that the two could help you spend that accumulated energy.

There weren’t many things you could do with a limp, anything labourous or physically draining was impossible wihtouthurting your leg. That left them watching you play around with Rudy’s cadejos after you begged so prettily, flashing him an adorable pout and big, doe eyes until he caved. You were rolling on the carpeted floor, laughing and cackling at the dogs, fingers carding through the white cadejo’s mane, scratching the sensitive spot behind his floppy ears. You switched between the black and white dogs, giving them an equal amount of affection, making kissing faces and ridiculous sounds that had Gaz and Rudy chuckling softly, smiles bright on their lips.

König was glad to see you less animated, resting your head on Gaz’s lap, nuzzling against his warm hand, nosing the calloused crease of his palm, and your feet crossed over Rudy, toes occasionally curling when his fingers skimmed over a sensitive patch of skin. You grumbled in your sleep, falling in and out of consciousness, lashes fluttering until they settled, arms swung around Rudy’s cadejos like you would with plushies, but with big and dangerous monsters. König thanked them for watching you, eyes softly admiring the trio before him, petting the dogs’ perked up heads, running over their ears and ruffling their fur. When he went to pick you up, you let out the smallest whine, unhappy about being moved from your comfortable spot between everyone.

The next two days were spent cuddling in a restless pile of wolf and tiger, stuck between two attention seeking shifters, Soap loudly whining and demanding attention, his tongue lolled out and panting loudly, unlike Horangi’s calm and subtle way of getting your affection, rubbing his body against yours and wrapping his tail around your forearm. It was a push and pull, one bark here and one hiss there, two big bodies pushing and backing up around you while they rubbed heads and pawed at your good leg. König and you got a good laugh out of it before he had to leave, his desk calling his name and the mounting load of paperwork needing his signature.

You eventually found yourself unable to move, limbs locked between those of striped and brown paws, their tensing and flexing arms, thick cords of sinewy muscle locked together in a mess they called a cuddle pile. Pulled from whatever you could have done and stuck in a warm and soft pile that shook and shuddered, Horangi’s soft purring and Soap’s low growls coaxing you to sleep. Eyes closing under the gentle vibration and watchful gaze, you dozed off without, blissfully unaware of two big, blinking pair of eyes that glared at anyone who made too much noise (poor Rudy got the scare of his life) when they wanted to get a drink or a quick snack from the room.

You woke up on someone’s back, slumped shoulders moving in a slow trot, furred paws choking out every step to your room with a Tiger beside you and König right behind you, his blue eyes squinted gleefully. It was all you could see of the smile that certainly curled the corners of his lips beautifully, a tender curl of scarred and jagged tissue to show his affection. You snuggled further into the mass of warm bodies, slept comfortably under caring and protective gazes that kept you safe - safer - that night.

Finally, seemingly missing the guiding presence of your captain, you had cheekily convoluted a day to sit in Price’s room with König’s help, leading you with a hand on your lower back after you insisted on walking. You were adamant that you could walk, frustrated and bored out of your mind that you couldn’t even walk around the base when all that you felt was a harsh pinch, stretch and ache of the stitched wound, the skin around it swollen and tender, and a bit of numbness in both your legs from the lack of use, being swiped off your feet and carried around for days. You limped your way into Price’s office, wearing a grin so wide it almost hurt before you thanked König with a hug, wrapping your arms around his and struggling to the couch pushed against the wall, all under Price’s arched brow and inquisitive gleam.

“Company for the old man,” was all you’d given him, trying your luck with the grouchy captain that was often glued to his desk signing papers and pushing plans through.

While he made calls here and there, you helped read through the many reports he received from this base and the others working alongside him for the international ground, summarising them in shorter and informative pieces, a quick read of a few dozens of pages down to one or two. While working all day, you both managed to shrink the pile to half it’s original size, leaving him things only he had jurisdiction to sign and write up and you the more trivial affairs. König helped you around the base to supper, a solid arm for you to lean on when your thigh pained you too much to keep going, hissing under your breath at the stinging pain. He fussed about it, quick to pick you up and rush you to the infirmary to have it check despite it being mild and dry, stitch still intact and swelling smaller.

Then you got sick of it, tired even, of all the fussing and overprotective behaviour. The constant looming over your shoulder, the fretting tone when they spoke to you and the constant strain on their face to not frown or wince at your grunts and hisses, it all annoyed you to the point of exhaustion. You felt as if the tables were turned, where you used to chase after them, med kit clipped to your hip and reminding them of their weekly checkups with you, you were now on the receiving end, stuck limping away from eight big and very worried hybrids.

It almost made you feel bad for being so insistent as their medic, but they had this horrid habit of hiding away to lick their wounds despite the need of sutures or cleaning, seemingly gaslighting themselves about the severity of it. You took it better, letting them pamper and spoil you until the end of the third week: being picked up rather than walking, being fed rather than eating and being entertained rather than left alone. You were always - always - under watch in case you —what? Reopened the now closed wound? Ripped yourself a new hole when the skin had nearly closed completely?

It was sore and sensitive, it was neither bleeding nor gaping. While you understood their concerns - as the medic of the TF- you hated the ceaseless surveillance. You’d ranted about it with your nurses, other medics that stayed on base and worked under you as aids and spare hands, and they listened feverishly whenever you were left alone, trusted by the hybrids who were acquainted by the many visits to keep you company on their own times.

And their solution to your plight? To sneak you off base and into the familiar pub you spent your days. The girls helped you move around without your crutch, all huddled around the back of the pub with drinks and fries, chatting and laughing loudly in your drunken haze. The first round went down as easily as the second and third one, jumping from one subject to the other, random quips here and funny remarks there. You were a chatty crowd, and it didn’t help that most of you were drunk, already having your fifth or sixth beer, stumbling around and slurring your words.

Their quickly made escape hadn’t lasted long though, perhaps an hour or two before any of the men started worrying and launched a search for you; and eventually, they did. They found you fumbling with your stuttered words, lids heavy as you stared back at Price’s exasperated frown. He sighed and mumbled lowly, the crowd around you parting as he moved in, his hands pulling you against him to leave. His hands were warm, soft despite the coarseness of his pads, lulling you to twist and turn against his chest, arms wrapping around the corded muscles of his back and nuzzled the ashy scent that lingered under his jaw with a sleepy groan.

You swore and damned the world. The lights were too bright, every sound too loud and your body too sluggish to do anything but slump against the soft couch of the TF’s rec room, stomach down and face buried between your arms. Someone was laughing - two or three voices - at your spitting words, hungover from last night and mind feeling heavy. Price was berating your for your reckless act, mindful of the loudness of his voice, keeping it low and quiet, nearly a whisper to your clogged ears.

“Never doing that again,” you groaned, eyes squinted to keep any light out of your pulsing eyes, “Fuck.”

Price sighed. You somewhat regretted sneaking off, the guilt adding pain to your headache for worrying them so much.

“Sorry, Cap. I’ll just- ask next time.”

“If there’s a next time.”

He was angry.

“Yes, sir.”

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drenix004 · 16 days

Text

Loving this ♡♡♡

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes

Summary: Things have returned to normal, or at least they seem to have. Nothing can ever go your way, though, can it?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7925 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex, face sitting, grinding, spanking (it's like once and not even on the ass), Kyle is definitely a munch, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, reader is a little shit, angst, PTSD, nightmares, trauma, mommy issues, family issues, language, the author's bias showing just a tad.

A/N: Have you ever cried while writing smut? I have. Had two mental breakdowns during the course of this chapter, the worst of the two during the smut scene. Sobbing while writing the reader getting her back blown out? That's a new one for me. But, I did it. I finished Chapter 16 this week. I'm feeling significantly better than I was, at least physically. Giving it to you a day early because I feel bad about not posting last week. The events of this chapter pick up pretty much where the previous one left off. Timeline wise, this chapter is spread over roughly a week-ish. And special thanks to the battle rattle anon for inspiring part of this chapter 🫶

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(This is my all time favorite gif of him I swear I stare at it way too much)

You’re clawing at the door frame, desperately clinging to the last thing you can hold on to, the last shred of your life as you know it. You fight the hands pulling at your arms, threatening to pull you away from the comfort, the warmth, the safety of your home, of your pack.

Your mothers grief-stricken sobs reach your ears, her cries of desperation as they rip you from her, your father’s hate filled gaze directed at you over her shoulder as he holds her back. She loves all her children, but you were always her favorite. The bond between you two was always the strongest.

Now you know why.

The arms rip you from the doorframe seconds before the door slams closed. It’s like a gavel strike declaring your fate, cutting you off from everything you knew. You’re pulled back from the door, from the house that had become your safe space, from the pack inside.

They’re not your pack anymore. The thought is like a sharp knife, severing the lifelong bond in your mind. You’re not a part of them anymore. You’re alone in this world, cut off from what you knew, and it’s all your fault.

If only you could have presented as an alpha, like you were supposed to.

You’re sobbing, breaths coming in choking gasps. Your chest feels tight, your body tense and aching as you fight against the constricting hold around you.

“Easy, easy.” A deep voice murmurs in your ear, your senses beginning to return. “Yer alright, kitten.”

Your breaths continue to come in shaky gasps as you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re in Johnny’s room still. His arms are wrapped tight around you, your own pinned against your chest. You had fallen asleep before you even realized it, exhausted after your night with Johnny.

“Ye were havin’ a nightmare.” He says, projecting his natural beta scent in an attempt to get you to relax.

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the scent start to numb your brain. The tears continue to slide down your cheeks, but slowly your breathing begins to normalize. Johnny begins to loosen his hold around you, not letting you go, but enough that you don’t feel like you’re being constricted anymore.

“Si gets them too.” Johnny continues, speaking quietly. His breath is warm as it fans your ear, reminding you that you’re awake now, and your nightmare is behind you. “Woken up tae elbows and fists in my face many times.”

You keep your eyes closed, taking in deep breaths as Johnny lays with you in silence, his fingers gently stroking your arms. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to have a nightmare. Not in front of them. You knew it would happen eventually, but you had hoped you could avoid it as long as possible.

You don’t want to reveal your weakness, your pain, your inner struggle to them. They have enough of their own, they don’t need to know how broken you are too.

You lay there, slowly calming your breaths and the slight tremble in your limbs as you wait for Johnny to begin questioning you. He’ll want to know, he’ll want to hear what it is that’s plaguing your mind. You’ll have to tell him, you’ll have to explain everything and then he’ll want to know more. He’ll want to unearth the brokenness and the pain that you’ve buried so deeply like an archaeologist looking for the secrets of an ancient civilization.

You don’t want to reveal it, you want to bury it again, lock it back in the recesses of your mind where it can’t hurt you. You want to compress it back down until you feel safe again without the threat of the past hanging over your head.

Johnny continues to relax his hold around you as you begin to calm down again, the tears finally slowing to a stop. You take deep breaths, trying to match Johnny’s even breathing behind you. You wait for it, the inevitable question, the prodding, the digging. He’ll want answers, he’ll want to know what plagues your mind, how much it’s been happening, why you haven’t said anything.

You’re not sure how much time passes as you lay there, counting breaths. It’s silent in the room, in the barracks. Even outside it’s quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting patiently for the shoe to drop, for the truth to get revealed.

You can't wait any longer. The tension is too thick, the thought of waiting for the question to break the silence is too much. You'll rip the bandaid before he can try and force it from you. “I don't-”

“Ye don't have tae tell me.” He cuts you off before you can even start, the words slicing through yours, stopping you from spilling your darkest, innermost thoughts. “We all have them sometimes. No shame in that.” He tightens his grip on you for a moment, pulling you closer against his chest. “Simon doesn't even tell me all of his. Thinks he might scare me off, or somethin'. I'm no’ gonnae force ye to tell me anythin’ if ye don’ want to.”

You're taken aback by his words. You suppose they all have to be plagued by nightmares of their own, with the kinds of things they have to see when they're in the field. Ghost had told you a bit about the nightmares that haunt him, and that had only been one tragedy, one mission. You suddenly feel silly. The kinds of things you’re afraid of, the nightmares that terrify your mind suddenly seem inconsequential to the things they must dream about at night.

You wiggle in Johnny’s arms until you’re facing him, his eyes half closed as he stares down at you. You shift forward, pressing your face against his bare chest. His head tucks so his chin rests against the top of your head as he holds you, his breathing slowing just slightly as he drifts back to sleep. You don’t sleep, laying there awake as you listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of Johnny’s heart.

He’s snoring quietly, breath fanning across your hair as he sleeps peacefully. You let your fingers trail over his skin as you wait for his early alarm that will signal the end of your quiet moments of bliss, snapping you both back into your realities. You trace the scars lining his skin, all of them with their own stories, just like John’s.

He makes a garbled, snorting noise as your fingers brush over his ribs, his entire body twitching. His hand moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Tickles.” He murmurs, lifting your arm so it’s draped around his neck. He's asleep almost immediately, as if he hadn't woken at all from your tickling.

You continue to lay there as he sleeps, your mind drifting between sleep and your racing thoughts until Johnny’s alarm goes off. He groans, reaching across you to turn it off. He lays still, breath still fanning over the top of your head. For a moment you’re worried he’s fallen asleep again, but eventually he moves, rolling on top of you.

He presses his face against your neck, letting out a quiet groan. He’s heavy, but a solid weight above you. It’s comforting, the weight of him like a blanket keeping you safe. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, his fingers trailing across your shoulder before brushing over your mark. You let out a whine, arching against him.

“Screamin’ Jesus.” He curses, getting hard against your thigh.

“Don’t you have to go work out?” You ask as he begins to grind against you.

“Would rather stay here with you.” He growls against your throat.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” You gasp, bucking up against him.

“Worth it.” He grunts, kicking the sheets off the end of the bed.

“Someone missed the morning workout.” Kyle says as you and Johnny sit down at the table for breakfast. You’re the last ones there, despite Johnny skipping his early morning workout.

You take your normal spot between Kyle and John, sitting gingerly on the hard bench. There’s still a distinct ache between your thighs from Johnny’s enthusiasm and intense stamina last night and this morning.

“Aye, don’t worry. I still got a good workout in.” Johnny says cheekily, winking across the table at you.

You’re afraid you may combust as the other three pairs of eyes at the table look at you. It’s no secret what you were doing last night, or this morning. Johnny, as in most aspects of his life, is loud in bed. Kyle had known you were going to, and so had Simon, but you find your gaze turning to John as your face warms.

You’re not quite sure what you’re expecting as you look at him. It’s not like he had forbidden you from pursuing relationships with the others, or even shown any distaste at the idea. You were open to love the other members of the pack, just as they did one another, just as he did.

His face is stoic as he stares at you, before it begins to lighten, a gleam shining in his eyes. “Did he take good care of you?” He asks, the corner of his lips twitching.

You swallow thickly, your face getting warmer as you nod. “Yeah.”

“Good.” John grins. “ Then I suppose I can forgive him for sleeping in this morning, so long as it doesn’t become a habit.” He casts his glance across the table.

“I’m a bad influence.” You say, spooning porridge into your mouth.

“Certainly worth the trouble, though.” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Especially when you do that thing with your tongue-”

Johnny’s words are cut off with a pained yelp as Ghost kicks him under the table. “Don’t go spilling all her tricks.” He grumbles, eyeing the tables around you.

You think your face might be permanently warm at the thought of anyone nearby hearing the topic of your conversation. Of course they know, but hearing about it was something entirely different.

Kyle walks you back to the barracks after breakfast, your hand in his, fingers laced together. His thumb rubs the back of your hand absentmindedly, shoulders brushing as you walk. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t have to. Unlike Johnny, Kyle is happy to exist in silence. They’re so very different, despite both being betas.

Your brothers had often joked about betas being boring, and how glad they were that neither of your parents were betas. You’d disagree now, after spending some time around betas. They’re just as complex as alphas and omegas, in their own ways.

Boring was the last thing you’d describe Johnny as last night.

Kyle holds the door for you as you enter the barracks, following you down the hall. You stop in front of your door, your hand pausing on the knob as Kyle leans in close to you.

His chest presses against your back, breath fanning your ear as he speaks. “Can’t wait to find out about this trick you do with your tongue.”

Your face warms again, your heart thudding in your chest as you turn to look up at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You could find out right now.”

Kyle’s lips lift in a smirk as he leans in closer, trapping you against the door. “I’d love to, but I don’t think the Captain would be quite so forgiving if I skipped out on this training.”

You stare up at him, lost in his big brown eyes. “Soon?”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. “Of course. Just say the word.”

He leaves you there with your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach churning in excitement. You’d be more than willing to go that extra step with Kyle right at this very moment, but the subtle ache between your thighs thanks to Johnny is a good reminder why you should wait. You want to enjoy your time with Kyle.

You know it will be worth the wait.

“How have you been?”

You shrug, sinking back into the plush chair. It’s warm in the office, a stark contrast to the cold downpour outside. “Fine.” You answer, running your hands over your jeans. “Tired.”

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises an eyebrow at you. “Have you not been sleeping well?”

“I’m...having a hard time falling asleep.” You say. It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth.

“Why do you think that is?” She asks, writing something down.

Your palms begin to sweat. You hadn’t planned on going into too much detail about this with her, but you knew she’d likely notice and remark on your tired appearance. “Been thinking too much.”

“About what?” She probes, staring at you.

You know you don’t have to tell her anything. What you share is up to you. Yet, you can feel the words bubbling up, threatening to spill over before you can stop them. “My family.” You say, releasing some steam from the boiling pot inside you. Tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall as you continue. “Especially my mom. I miss her a lot sometimes.”

“You had a close bond with her.” Dr. Keller says. It’s not a question.

You nod. “The closest out of all of my siblings.” You snuffle, wiping the tear trailing down your cheek. “Makes sense why.”

“Sometimes we have traits or behaviors that show before we present that hint at our possible status. Having a stronger bond with one parent over another, especially in mixed status packs, can signal what one might present as.” Dr. Keller says. “Were you the first omega to present in your pack?”

You nod. “Yeah. My older brothers were alphas, and I don’t know about my younger siblings.”

“That could all contribute to a strong bond with your mother.” Dr. Keller leans back in her seat. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with them since the institute.”

“Not since I was taken from home. The institute didn’t support keeping those connections with previous packs and...I don’t think they would have reached out anyway.” You say, picking at the fabric of your pants.

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Keller asks.

You pause, not sure you want to open that bag of worms. If anyone is safe enough to do it with, you know it’s going to be Dr. Keller. She won’t judge you, she won’t think you weak or silly for having such thoughts, such fears. She doesn’t care how broken you are. You’re not part of her pack. She’s an outsider, a doctor above all.

“Well, they did send me to the institute, didn’t they?” You finally say.

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she drops her gaze to her notebook, writing something down. “I suppose you have a point there. Hypothetically, if you were given the chance to, would you want to talk to them again? It’s not uncommon for omegas to seek out their previous packs and families after they leave the institute.”

Your stomach twists at her question. Even if it is only hypothetical, you had existed for years in the institute thinking you’d never get to see or hear from your family again. They were behind you, lost to you. They wouldn’t accept your attempts to reach out to them, even if you knew where they were. Even after leaving the institute, you knew the chances of seeing them again or even just hearing from them was almost none. You have a new pack now, your old one doesn’t matter.

That’s just the life of an omega.

Would you want to? In this hypothetical world where this question exists as a potential option, would they even answer if you called? Would they accept an invitation to see you again, if they were given the chance? Could your father feel regret after all of these years for what he did to you?

“I...” You frown, tears pricking your eyes again. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s a complex situation. If you ever wanted to, though, I’m sure they could make it happen.”

Your gaze snaps to hers, the shock at her words clearly written on your face. Of course they probably could. It was their job to hunt down hard to find people, and with the CIA at their backs, you’re certain they could track down your family easily. Would they do it for you, if you asked? Would they allow you to have that connection with your old pack while still being part of theirs?

“Most people keep some form of contact with their family, even after they move on to their own pack.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s not unusual, even among omegas. Just something to think about.”

“Do you still talk to your family?” You ask her, partly out of curiosity.

“I do.” She smiles. “I talk to my parents pretty regularly, and my older brother occasionally. He’s involved in this world too. He was in the Army originally, but now he does whatever it is he does.”

You’re surprised by her answer. Not so much that she still talks to her family, but that she’s familiar with this world. It makes sense, how easily she existed in it, beyond just being a professional. “Do you think it had something to do with you being chosen for this position?” You ask.

“Most likely.” She grins. “Laswell probably wanted someone who is at least a little familiar with this world, but also someone she knew would work well with you.”

“I think she made the right choice.” You say. It’s the truth. You like Dr. Keller. You trust her. You’ve grown comfortable in her presence and you look forward to your appointments with her. It almost makes you feel bad for withholding the truth from her.

“Good. I think so too.” She says. “So, did anything exciting happen this week?”

You chew on your lip nervously, your hands disappearing into your sleeves as your face warms a bit. “Johnny and I...had our first time together.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise. “And that’s something you wanted?”

You nod. “Yeah. I’d like to get close to all of them, well, as close as Ghost will let me get.” You bite your lip again. “Ghost...gave me some pointers on how to handle Johnny. It worked. He...let me take control. I liked it.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Keller says. “I think it’s great that you’ve discovered this about yourself. I know omegas are so used to being controlled in society. I think it’s great that you’ve found a place where perhaps you can take a little control back.”

She’s not wrong. Your entire life has been dictated for you, controlled by someone else. The baton of control was just continually passed from your father, to the institute, to the CIA, and now to John. Though John has granted you the most freedom of everyone that’s held control over you, there’s still requirements for obedience and submission to him. You’ll never be your own person. That’s just the way society works, and you’ve come to accept that.

Yet, you’ve never felt quite so powerful as you did in bed with Johnny, when you’d gripped him by the mohawk like Ghost had instructed you to. When you saw the change in his eyes as you took over, controlling him, telling him what to do. You liked it, exerting control over someone else for a change. He just let you do it. It still sends a thrill down your spine at the thought of the possibilities, the things you can do now that you’ve discovered this part of yourself. You’d never show it in public, but behind closed doors...

The book was right. Perhaps omegas can be powerful.

“What are we doing?” You ask, staring up at John as he straps a tactical vest onto your body.

“We’re doing an exercise, and you’re going to help us.” He answers, double checking the vest before putting a helmet on your head. “Think of it as hide and seek mixed with tag.” He finishes strapping the helmet to your head, taking a step back. “How does it feel?”

“Heavy.” You feel weighed down with the vest and the helmet.

“You’ll get used to it.” He says with a smile, guiding you towards the door of the warehouse.

It’s dark inside, nearly pitch black except for the light coming in from the open door. There’s fake walls set up in front of you, with space just in the middle like a sort of hallway that disappears into the darkness.

“Your job is to get from this side of the warehouse, to the other without getting caught.” John says. “No weapons, just you trying to evade us and get to the other side while we try and catch you,” John lowers the goggles on the top of the helmet, the world coming alive in shades of green around you. “And night vision goggles. Be smart about it. Understood?”

You nod, looking around with the goggles, trying to adapt to using them. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. You have a thirty second head start. Use it wisely.”

He leaves the warehouse, closing the door behind him. You’re left in complete darkness, with no sound but a fan running somewhere, probably to dampen any sounds that might echo. You stand there for a moment, trying not to breathe too heavily, as it might echo in the warehouse. You stare at the door behind you for a second before you begin to move forward, the adrenaline starting to pump. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they catch you. Are they working together or individually? What kind of strategy will they use? What strategy will you use?

You begin to pick up speed, running until you reach the end of the first hallway. It splits off in both directions, and you hesitate for a moment. Be smart about it. You don’t have many advantages in this situation. They’ve done this before, both in training and probably in the field as well. They’re highly skilled soldiers, trained to hunt down people in all sorts of environments, sometimes with nothing more than their scent.

Scent.

Of course.

You take off down the right hallway, following it as it twists and turns like a maze. A giant maze. There’s so many hallways, so many places to run, but not many to hide. That’s not the point, though. You have to get to the other side of the warehouse before they do. You have to track your way through this maze without getting caught by four special operations soldiers.

Simple enough.

You pause at a corner, undoing your vest so you can slip your sweatshirt off. You’re just putting your vest back on when the door opens, bathing the ceiling with light for a moment. It’s started. They’re inside. You can’t hear anything over the hum of the fan, and that’s almost more terrifying to you than if you had been able to hear them. The adrenaline is pumping now as you toss your sweatshirt in the corner before quickly backtracking and heading a different direction.

You try to keep your breathing quiet as you weave through the maze, doubling back and touching the walls every so often to try and leave your scent behind and confuse them. You take deep breaths through your nose as you go, trying to catch any whiff of them, any sign that you might have crossed their path or be getting close to them. They’ll reach the same area of the maze as you’re in eventually, sooner rather than later. You need to start pressing forward. You’re not just evading them, you have to reach the other side before they catch you.

You slip around a corner, pressing up against the wall as something moves behind you. You hold your breath, quiet footsteps passing by your position. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, the instinctual fear of being hunted rising in you. You take a couple of quiet deep breaths, slipping your shoes off to grab your socks before slipping them back on. You peek around the corner, finding nothing.

You toss one of your socks in the corner before doubling back, pausing as you cross one of their scents. Johnny. You recognize the citrusy tang in the air. Christ, you’ve never heard him be that quiet before. You continue on, your heart racing in your chest as you carefully weave around corners, slipping through hallways. They’re close to you now. They could be around any corner.

You pause as you cross the scent of leather and musk, something prickling in the back of your mind. It’s a fresh scent. You pause for a moment, looking in the direction he went before slipping around the corner. You still have your other sock clutched in your hand, knuckles white as you grip it tightly.

You should be nearing the end. The warehouse isn’t that big, even with all the doubling back and dodging you’ve been doing. You toss your other sock in a corner haphazardly as you decide to stop doubling back and go for the exit. You have to try and get ahead of them, as well as find your way through the maze to the exit door.

Simple enough.

Except, you have no idea which direction the exit is, or which direction you’re heading. You could be going backwards for all you know. You weave through the halls, around the corners, focusing on finding the end of the maze.

In your concentration you fail to notice the scent, weaving through the halls mindlessly as you attempt to reach the end of the maze. You pay for it as the sound of boots on the concrete floor rushes up behind you. You let out a startled shriek of surprise as your feet leave the floor, your body ragdolling over someone’s shoulder.

“Got her!” He yells out, weaving around a couple corners before light floods the warehouse, making you wince.

Your squint as your feet hit the ground again, the night vision goggles lifted from your face. Your nose crinkles as you stare up at Kyle’s smug face, his lips pulled up in a smirk.

“No fair.” You pout. “I was so close!”

“You were, but you got sloppy at the end there.” He says, undoing the strap of your helmet to help you take it off. You’re sweaty underneath it, hair sticking to your forehead. You’re glad you ditched your sweatshirt now.

“Not bad.” John says, exiting the warehouse, Ghost and Johnny following. “Nice strategy.” He says, tossing your sweatshirt to you.

You shrug, hugging it to your chest. “Had to think fast with what I had on hand.”

“Running around with no socks on too.” Ghost says, holding up your socks.

“Left you a little present. You can keep them if you want.” You smirk.

“Don’t want your nasty socks.” He grumbles, tossing them to you.

“That was fun.” You say, grinning up at them. “Like being hunted.” You don’t miss the quiet rumble in John’s chest at your words, his eyes darkening just a bit. “Can someone help me out of this now though,” You say, reaching for the velcro straps on the vest. “It’s squishing my boobs.”

The TV is playing some show, but you're not really paying attention. You haven't been, not for a while now. Your adrenaline had still been pumping a bit after your participation in the exercise earlier, putting you on edge the rest of the day. It had been a bit thrilling, the idea of being hunted like that. You can understand now how omegas enjoy being hunted, beyond just the inevitable end.

The thought of that being how the exercise ended, all four of them at once, out where anyone could see you...your skin begins to prickle as heat blossoms in your veins. Kyle would get to take you first because he won, he caught you so easily. Would John go second, or would he allow the other members of his pack to go first? Ghost would be rough, taking you from behind, hands bruising on your hips. Your teeth sink into your lip as you imagine him over you, a position you often found yourself in during your training with him. He's just so big, so strong. They all are.

You won't be able to control yourself during training if you keep going down that thought path.

John would be gentle, piecing you back together after the others have had their way with you. He'd take care of you, like a good alpha, dragging one more orgasm out of you after you think you can't anymore.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your scent. You're stinking up the rec room with your fantasies. You turn your head to look at the TV, trying to focus on what's happening on the screen in an effort to distract yourself.

It doesn't work, the subtle dampness between your thighs ever present on your mind. You have half a mind to get up and seek out Kyle, but like a miracle he appears in the doorway of the rec room. You see his nostrils flare, the lift of his shoulders as he inhales. He can smell your arousal, the spike in the sweetness of your scent. You have no doubt about that. He doesn't say anything, though, instead he approaches the couch silently, kneeling at the end.

He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He lets out a breath as he settles, keeping some of his weight off of you, but he's still pressed against you like a weighted blanket. You fight the urge to shift beneath him, to press your hips up against him, to seek any ounce of relief for the warmth between your thighs.

You're not sure he's watching the TV either as he lays there, relaxed over you. Your fingers trail patterns across his back, gliding over his soft shirt. He's in blue today, one of your favorite colors on him. He looks good in anything, the perks of being pretty, but blue is one of your favorite colors on him.

It's silent between you for a while, Kyle relaxed above you while you fight to relax beneath him. If he’s affected at all by your scent, he hides it well. You have half a mind to ask him to take pity on you, to slip his hand beneath your sweatpants and ease the ache between your thighs. He had said whenever you wanted it. All you have to do is ask.

You shift slightly beneath him, lifting your hand to his head. “Kyle?” You ask, gently trailing your fingers over his scalp. He'd gotten his hair buzzed recently, the curly strands shorter than normal.

He hums in response, the sound rumbling through your body from where his head rests on your chest. When you don't reply right away he lifts his head, blinking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“Kiss me?” You ask.

Your heart starts to race as he pulls himself closer to you, his body dragging against yours. His eyes dart to your lips before they look back into yours for a moment. He leans down, slipping his arms underneath your back as he closes the gap between you. His lips are soft against yours, his kisses gentle and controlled as he holds you like you might break in his grasp.

“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck.

He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you.

“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp again. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

His lips twitch in a smirk before he leans down, pressing his lips hard against yours. It’s a searing kiss that nearly steals your breath away. His tongue prods at your lips, and you part them to allow him in. He tastes like the tea he had been drinking after dinner, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness from the sugar he added. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue flicks against your own, your thighs squeezing around his waist at the thought of that tongue between your legs.

He smirks against your lips as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, his body shifting over yours so he can press one of his thighs between your legs. You move instinctively, your hips grinding against his thigh. Finally you're getting some friction, some relief from the ache.

“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you tighter against his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, pressing his thigh harder against your grinding hips. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.”

You try to muffle your moans as you continue to grind against his thigh, the friction on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Kyle?” You gasp out, gripping the back of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?”

He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. “Fuck, you’re right. Your room or mine?”

“Yours.” You say, hanging on for dear life as he scoops you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He walks you to his room, carrying you the entire way. He kicks the door shut, beelining for his bed. He drops you down on the mattress, your body bouncing as he hastily peels his shirt off, revealing an expanse of smooth skin marked here and there by scars. You immediately reach out, trailing your fingers over his skin. It’s just as soft as it looks, your fingers trailing the lines of his muscles.

His hand flattens over yours as it reaches his chest, pressing it into his warm skin as he leans down, kissing you again. His hands slip under your thighs, lifting you and switching your positions so he’s seated on the bed, and you’re in his lap.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He says, looking up at you.

“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say with a shrug, smiling down at him.

“It’s the truth.” He says, slipping his hands under your shirt. “Deserve to hear it all the time.”

“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.”

“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, smoothing his hands across your back as he presses his face into your throat. “Pretty little omega.”

You shiver as his teeth nip at your skin, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. You arch against his chest, pressing yourself closer. There’s a bulge in his pants, a shiver of pride running through you at the thought that you did that to him. You elicited such a reaction from him.

“I never properly thanked you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“For what?” He asks, staring up at you curiously.

“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind your hips against his, his teeth sinking into his lip as you grind against his bulge. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?”

“Too many to count, love.” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.”

“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap, the wetness between your thighs intensifying from the friction. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Sit on my face.” He growls, pushing you off his lap so he can lay down on the bed.

You shove your pants and underwear down your legs, fighting the urge to be bashful. Kyle has already seen you at your most vulnerable, been up close and personal with your most private parts. Yet, it feels different like this. More intimate, and less of a necessity.

You take his hand as he offers it, letting him guide you to kneel over his face. You grip the headboard as you hover over him, his hands settling on your hips.

“Wait-” You say, before he can pull you down onto his face. “What if I suffocate you?”

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, tugging you down onto his mouth.

You let out a gasp as his tongue drags through your folds, already soaked from his teasing. His tongue flicks across your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. Your hips jerk when his mouth closes around your clit, suckling at it with a lewd smack of his lips.

“Fuck!” You gasp, grinding your hips against his face as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it with his tongue.

You’re close already, your legs trembling around his head. He holds you steady, keeping you still above him as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your knees attempt to squeeze around his head as you cum, soaking his face with a cry. He continues to lap at your folds, licking up every last bit of your release before he finally lets you move off his face.

You drop to the side, staring down at him as you try to catch your breath. He licks his lips, his face shiny with your juices. He reaches a hand over, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your face down to his, kissing you. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and lips, already starting to get wet again.

Kyle wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your back under him. He hovers over you, the bulge in his pants very visible, even from this position.

“Sweet little omega.” He says, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.”

“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.”

“I got you.” He soothes you, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. He drags his fingers through your folds, still just as slick as they had been before your orgasm. “So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed.

You stare at him in awe, his cock just as beautiful as he is. Long and thick, curved just slightly. You can’t help but ogle him as he wraps a hand around the base, squeezing it. He’s hard, raging hard, the tip leaking precum already. He really has been so patient, waiting for this. You almost feel bad making him wait so long, but he had agreed to be patient, if only to keep Johnny from making everyone’s lives miserable with his pouting if he didn’t get to go first.

It’s only fair that you let Johnny go first too, considering Kyle will likely be the one you spend the most time with. It’s only natural, thanks to your bond with John. Kyle’s your beta, just as much as John is your alpha. You’d like Johnny to be your beta too, but you know without that bond with Ghost, it’ll never feel quite the same as it does with Kyle. Regardless, you’ll continue to treat Johnny as if he was your beta.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle asks, watching you as you get lost in thought.

You truly do it at the worst possible times.

You lift your gaze to his, staring into those big brown eyes. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.”

You let out a yelp as Kyle’s hand smacks your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room.

“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.”

Your laugh is broken by a moan as he drags his head through your folds, his hand falling to grip your waist.

“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back.

“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip.

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. You handled Johnny just fine, you can certainly handle Kyle.

You hope.

He finally takes pity on you, sinking his cock deeper into you. You moan at the stretch, flopping back on the bed as you try to relax around him. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper as you open up to him. You reach for him as he sinks even further into you, his body folding over yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he seats himself completely inside you, hips pressed flush against yours.

“Hi.” You breathe, getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?”

You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.”

“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.”

You let out a quiet whine, clenching around him again. The thought of him imagining this, trying to picture what you’d look like, what you’d feel like while he waited patiently for his turn has your body burning hot. You shift your hips below him, causing him to move inside you.

“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.”

“I got you, love.” He smiles down at you, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing forward again.

Your head falls back as he moves, keeping his pace slow and languid. Heat burns through your veins, your very nerve endings alive as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Something thrums in the back of your mind, the mark on your shoulder almost tingling as you stare up at him, your fingers trailing over the mark on his shoulder, a mirror of the one on your own. A shudder runs through him as your fingers brush the scar, his lips parting in a low groan. You clench around him at the sight of such unbridled pleasure on his face, pulling him closer against your body.

He drags your pleasure out as he makes love to you, slow and passionate and deliberate with every movement. You know you won’t last much longer, the sensations beginning to overwhelm you.

“I’m close.” You breathe into Kyle’s ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?”

Your back arches as you cum, pushed over the edge by his words. Your nails bite into his shoulders, but he offers no complaint as he continues to roll his hips into yours, working you through your orgasm as he chases his own. His pace picks up slightly as he gets closer and closer to the edge, your eyes on his face, wanting to watch him now.

“Your turn.” You breathe, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm as you clench around him.

His head tilts back, lips parted in a deep moan as his hips jerk. His cock twitches inside you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. You trail your hands over his back, sinking your teeth into your lip as you watch his face morph into complete bliss. You’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.

He collapses on top of you, just managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing the smooth, sweat slicked skin, only pausing to trace the scars that you find. Kyle presses soft kisses to your face, slowly trailing lower across your jaw and neck. He presses a kiss to your mark, a shudder running through you. He lets out a groan as you clench around him, shifting so he’s face to face with you again.

“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Tired already?” You ask cheekily.

“No,” He says, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.”

You stand outside the door of John’s office, brows pulled into a frown. You have a feeling you already know what he’s going to say, yet your mind keeps reeling, coming up with the most fantastical ideas as to why you were summoned to his office in the middle of the day. It’s weird that he’s in his office in the middle of the day. Usually they’d be off training, but he’d pulled them all into a meeting this morning after breakfast, one that had gone into your usual lunch time, and then they hadn’t gone to train after you finally got to eat.

“Come in.”

Your hand pauses on the handle as you hesitate, almost as if you could prevent what’s going to happen by just not going in. It’s a ridiculous thought. Avoiding this will only likely get you into trouble.

You step into the office, the air inside different from any of the other times you’ve been in his office. John’s face looks grim and focused behind his desk, and it’s not hard to tell you’re not facing John right now, you’re facing Captain Price.

You take the seat across from him at his desk when he motions to it, trying to fight the tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you stare at him. You won’t cry. You knew this was going to happen eventually. You knew going in what was going to inevitably happen. You had been well prepared for this part of your new reality, yet you don’t want to acknowledge it now that you’re staring it in the face.

“I know you’ve likely already figured out what’s going on.” He says, his voice gruff and deeper than normal.

You can see it in his face. He’s fighting his own battle with having to tell you. You hadn’t expected it, to see him struggle with it. He knew it as well as you did. He knew it better than you did, and yet, you can see the turmoil behind that focused gaze.

He lets out a sigh as he continues, hands closing into fists on his desk, his tone almost apologetic. The words sting despite the fact you had known they were coming, despite the fact you had expected them when you walked into the office. “This morning we had a debrief for a new assignment. We’ll be leaving tonight. All four of us.”

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drenix004 · 18 days

Text

Fragile Part 6

😈😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better there than in his lab. He had up a map of the city with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley together.

“Fishing mods are cheating.”

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…”

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest.

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you.

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo.

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you.

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair.

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard.

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it.

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face.

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft.

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit.

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.”

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen.

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from.

The old Sacks Tower.

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard.

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head.

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair.

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at.

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.”

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative.

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave.

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!”

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in.

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you.

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.”

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed.

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open.

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants.

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained.

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser.

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!”

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned.

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor.

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away.

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip.

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch.

You shrieked.

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath.

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him.

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point.

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit.

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip.

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him.

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated.

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked.

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer.

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness.

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door.

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door.

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

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drenix004 · 20 days

Text

Loving this ♡♡♡

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (M)

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; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock.

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her.

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building.

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow.

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit.

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him.

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them.

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him.

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping.

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist.

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound.

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen.

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point.

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression.

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her.

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others.

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long.

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer.

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash.

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch.

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers.

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually.

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone.

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely.

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss.

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews.

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi.

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers.

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously.

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face.

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back.

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there.

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick.

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy.

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction.

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child.

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger.

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face.

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke.

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom.

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”.

“Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips.

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers.

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand.

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom.

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling.

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face.

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz.

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning.

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much.

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere.

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations.

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys.

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin.

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again.

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically.

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text.

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen.

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him.

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back.

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say.

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification.

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer.

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more.

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her.

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip.

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery.

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed.

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?”

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans.

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time.

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply.

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly.

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling.

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper.

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her.

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears.

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round.

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into.

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion.

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid.

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet.

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground.

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone.

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together.

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing.

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?”

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation.

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well.

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding.

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side.

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face.

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away.

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face.

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood.

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting.

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden.

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head.

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture.

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it.

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone.

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly.

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up.

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it.

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs.

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily.

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway.

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall.

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her.

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth.

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor.

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins.

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday.

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor.

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on.

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos.

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one.

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor.

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out.

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing.

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration.

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping.

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink.

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers.

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well.

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat.

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table.

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass.

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently.

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step.

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung.

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose.

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve.

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing.

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction.

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp.

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in.

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?”

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who.

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek.

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch.

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks.

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out.

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable.

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him.

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van.

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home.

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless.

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television.

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times.

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine.

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s.

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway.

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her.

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact.

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them.

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed.

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth.

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering.

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering.

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”.

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions.

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow.

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house.

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately.

“What is your name?”

Nothing.

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again.

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box.

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area.

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded.

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together.

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?”

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face.

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house.

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van.

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up.

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside.

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed.

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard.

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him.

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas.

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes.

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low.

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk.

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap.

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck.

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom.

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it.

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back.

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound.

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her.

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips.

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features.

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace.

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension.

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in.

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment.

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly.

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized.

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog.

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his.

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim.

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest.

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make.

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers.

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey.

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in.

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin.

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again.

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards.

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once.

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane.

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist.

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously.

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail.

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there.

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!”

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane.

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him.

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead.

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt.

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat.

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock.

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw.

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out.

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly.

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh.

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts.

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously.

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush.

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white.

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair.

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself.

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of.

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering.

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together.

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw.

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows.

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly.

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it.

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in.

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows.

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside.

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night.

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk.

“Did Jeongguk listen?”

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar.

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question.

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.”

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked.

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot.

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section.

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play.

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room.

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

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 @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung

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drenix004 · 20 days

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Part five: strap on 🩷 Kinktober Masterlist 🩷

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, strap on, overstimulation, mommy kink, lesbians in love

- Aw, what’s the matter hermosa? Is it too much for you to take? - Valeria tutted at your squealing, her fingers gripping your thighs even harder, blunt nails leaving bright semi-circles on your skin. Her hips snapped hard against yours, 7 inch strap burying deep inside your raw pussy, silicone tip of was nudging your poor cervix, causing a small bulge to appear on your tummy.

- Can’t… Can’t take more mommy, - you whined, writhing in her tight grip. She’s been at it for hours, holding your legs opened wide, fucking you into a babbling senseless mess, wringing one orgasm out of you after another. Your whole body shook with intensity of pleasure, toes curling every time Valeria shoved all of her length in your sopping cunt, your juices covering her lower stomach, causing bronze skin glisten wetly.

- It’s up to me wether you can take more or not, - her stern voice boomed, dominant tone she uttered these words with made your cunny clench desperately around thick shaft, eyes rolling back into your skull as it grazed all the sweetest spots inside of you repeatedly. - Look at you, so pretty on mommy’s strap. You’ve been thinking about this whole day, haven’t you? Sending me those photos like a needy little bitch, just wanting me to destroy you completely.

You only managed to nod your head, too cockdrunk to form a coherent sentence. You did feel needy, thinking that sending Valeria a few nudes in that sexy new set you got recently was a good idea. Well, it worked all too well - her bending you over first flat surface in your house seconds after finally getting back home, nimble fingers scissoring your drooling pussy open before fucking her biggest strap inside of your greedy warmth, making you purr and squeal under your wife’s rough touch.

Valeria reached for your tits, grabbing a handful of soft pudge, cruel fingers twisting your nipple out, mixing slight pain into concoction of pleasure, turning your brain into thoughtless mush. Her other had was busy bullying your swollen clit, each swipe of calloused fingertip against exposed tip sent electric shocks running up and down your spine, setting your nerves alight. Your back arched off soft mattress, hands gripping onto now messy sheets, needing something to hold onto.

- Fuck, mami, gonna cum! Can I please cum? Please… - you wailed, a heavy feeling setting in the pit of your stomach, thick strap ramming in and out of you along with Valeria’s relentless abuse on your clit drew you closer to your orgasm. Your eyes watered with tears of pleasure as you gazed up at Garza, a smug smirk curled her lips as black eyes studied your every smallest feature intently.

- Yes, you can cum, - she said finally, her voice a bit breathy from exertion with which she was fucking you. And with that a dam broke - thick pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, subduing all the colors and sounds around, only leaving place for pure euphoria to ripple through your veins.

Valeria fucked you through your high, prolonging it as much as she could, trying to burn your precious expression in her brain, sexy sounds of your release made her heart beat faster with excitement. As you slowly came back to your senses a satisfied grin made its way onto your flushed face; you puckered out your lips indicating that you wanted a kiss, in which Valeria gladly indulged.

There really wasn’t anything else Valeria needed - all she has ever longed for was here, laying underneath her and giggling at her in post-coital giddiness, causing Garza’s cold soldier heart to skip a beat at intensity of her adoration for you.

But well, maybe pulling one more orgasm out of you would make Valeria even happier?

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drenix004 · 20 days

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Fragile Part 5

Another fluff chapter! Gonna be getting to the juicy angst after this 👀✨

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: wholesome, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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“Of course!!! The somatic consequences of her hyperactive stress caused a delayed growth! Her adrenal glands had been over active the whole time she was in captivity, leading to hypertension and extreme exhaustion.”

“Use real words brainiac.” Raph grunted.

“Well, basically after she had enough rest and worked through all her pent up stress, she was able to control her adrenaline response. That’s how she was able to naturally trigger her mutation gene! Fascinating.”

“So uuuuh, what does that mean?” Mikey added helpfully.

“It means that Stockman’s mutation experiment worked, and we need to ensure that he never finds that out. Who knows what Karai and the Foot would do with that kinda power?” Leo interjected.

“Since Stockman is distilling diluted mutagen from Bebop and Rocksteady’s blood, the effect of a successful animal mutation is highly unlikely. From the information I gathered from his experiments overseas, it appears that only 2% of his test subjects had permanent animal mutations. So the statistical likelihood of achieving the perfect hybrid of human and animal DNA with an impure source of mutagen is less than 0.00001%! It’s honestly a scientific miracle that her mutation appears to be stable in the first place!” Donnie rambled.

At some point the plates were taken out of your hands and you were sat down in a chair at the table next to April. April had her hand on your shoulder while listening to the boys talk about what to do. You had stopped listening a while ago. Your eyes had gone vacant. The sounds in the room felt so far away, like you were underwater. It felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“So what? If it’s that hard to do then we got nothing to worry about.” Raph said gruffly and folded his arms.

“Not necessarily. If Stockman gains access to a form of stable active mutagen, then the success rate of mutation goes up to 40%!!! He could make an army…”

“An army of mutants.” Leo said solemnly.

“Aw man, come on! Bebop and Rocksteady are already a pain in the ass. Stockmans gonna make more of them?” Mikey griped.

“Not if we can help it.” Raph said, fixing the toothpick between his lips.

“So what does that mean for (y/n)?” April spoke up, chair squeaking as she stood up.

“It means, if Stockman gets his hands on (y/n), it’s game over.”

You were barely aware of your surroundings. You were scared. So so scared. Whatever Dr Stockman did to you, it worked. It made you into a weapon. You can’t stand the thought of what he’d do if he ever got his hands on you again. Memories of your time in the lab flashed through your mind. You started to tremble and you felt something wet slide down your cheeks.

“What should I tell the police?” Casey asked from where he stood in the circle.

“Tell them to keep an eye out for any Foot activity and report it back to us. We need any leads we can on where they’re hiding Stockman. And whatever you do, don’t give away (y/n)’s location. We need to keep her out of reach.” Leo ordered Casey.

You felt something warm engulf your trembling hands. It was… grounding. A calm feeling washed over you.

“Take deep breaths.” You heard a voice say next to your ear. You took in a slow deep breath, and a shuttering exhale. Then again. And again. You slowly began to feel yourself coming back to your body. When you finally blinked away your tears into consciousness, you saw Master Splinter standing by you, patient and holding your hands in his own.

“You are safe here. Do not worry about the past. Let my sons handle it, they are strong and will protect you.” The old rat reassured you.

You sniffed a bit and raised your hand to wipe away some of your tears, and nodded. “….thank you.” You said earnestly. Your voice was horse and heavy with emotion.

Master Splinter went to put the kettle on for tea, while the others finished talking and split up into their assigned jobs. Donnie and Leo went to Donnie’s computer station to coordinate what route to take for patrol, Casey got on the phone with the police commissioner to ask about the locations of recent Foot activity, Mikey and Raph were in charge of cleaning up the kitchen for you, and April disappeared to somewhere in the lair.

Splinter returned to you later with a fresh cup of tea, and sat with you quietly at the table while Raph and Mikey bickered over drying the clean plates. He sipped his tea while he quietly kept you company, giving you time and space to fully calm down. Eventually Mikey came over to join you and Master Splinter while Raph went to go help April carry some large wrapped supplies to somewhere in the back of the lair. You relaxed into your seat and enjoyed watching Mikey’s overly animated retelling of his valiant battle in one of his new video games.

“(Y/n)?” Leo came over to check on you a little while later.

“How are you feeling? Do you feel any muscle soreness or headaches?” Donnie was standing behind Leo holding a laptop.

You sighed. “I'm fine. Maybe a little bit of a headache…” You said honestly, finishing the rest of your tea.

Leo and Donnie exchanged a look that you did not miss.

“We…. were wondering…. if you would like to join us for some training?” Leo asked you tentatively.

You looked between the two suspiciously.

Donnie coughed totally inconspicuously into his fist. “Well,… we want to test your mutation’s ability. Strength, speed, reflexes, etc…. O-only if you’re okay with it, that is.”

Splinter sighed and sipped more of his tea. “Perhaps, that would be for the best.”

You looked to Master Splinter with surprise. You had been watching the boys train every day since you entered the lair, but there had never been an invitation to train with them. Splinter’s training looked extreme, and that was only putting it lightly. You knew the turtles had been training since they were little, and it certainly showed in their skill. You were intimidated to say the least.

“Really? Are you sure?” You were hesitant.

Master Splinter answered by setting aside his tea and standing up. “No need to worry, we will start with the basics. Follow me.” Splinter walked past a stunned Mikey, Leo, and Donnie in the direction of the dojo.

You stood up and followed behind him nervously. You passed by Raph and April who had emerged from one of the unused storage rooms. Raph looked surprised as you and Splinter walked into the dojo. He looked over at his brothers and pointed at you.

“Are they….?”

Leo Donnie and Mikey nodded quickly and scrambled over each other to get a good spot in the dojo. Raph and April shared a look and dropped what they were doing and rushed after them, passing a very confused Casey that had just gotten off the phone.

“Raphael. Please wrap her hands. Leonardo, please prepare to teach her the first basic katas.” Master Splinter ordered with ease. His tail flicked as he walked over to take his position in the dojo.

Raphael obeyed without complaint, and grabbed his boxing tape. You looked up at him anxiously, certain this was the closest you had been to Raphael since the night he carried you here.

You looked up at Raph with those big doe eyes of yours and had him feeling nervous. He started to wrap your hands up as gently as he could. He gulped at how small and dainty your hands were in his big steady grasp.

Finishing up, he nodded over to Leo and the leader in blue stepped up.

“Okay, when you’re ready, I want you to try and follow my form as closely as you can.” Leo planted his feet firmly on the tatami and gracefully moved in a form that looked like basic Tai Chi.

You followed Leo’s instructions for a while, did some stretching and warming up, and then your teacher switched. Michelangelo tutored you next on dodging, then Donatello on redirecting an enemy’s attack to use against them, and finally Raphael on how to throw a proper punch.

You did your best to copy, checking to make sure your feet were lined up with your shoulders and that you followed all the way through with the motion. Raph then came over as you continued the motion and made small corrections in your stance and how you held your fist.

“Donatello. Please stand with a plank in front of Miss (y/n).” Splinter ordered.

Donnie scampered over with a small wooden board. He adjusted his tech goggles over his eyes and licked his lips as he took a firm stance holding the board a foot in front of you.

Everyone paid close attention, seemingly excited to see your mutant strength in action again. You looked at him nervously and glanced at Master Splinter for assurance. You were a little scared about what your mutation might do. You took a deep breath, adjusted your stance, aaaaand-

tap.

Your stance crumbled as you moved to cradle your bruised knuckles.

“Oooow…” You hissed, and couldn’t stop the embarrassment showing on your face.

“Well, that was anticlimactic.” Leo deadpanned.

“Huh. I don’t get it, she shattered that plate like it was a cracker.” Donnie said, straightening back to his full height.

“Dude, maybe it only works on dinner plates.” Mikey added helpfully. April elbowed him in his side. “Ow- hey! I said maybe!”

“How about we just…. Try that again. You have to throw your whole weight into your fist. Okay?” Raph patiently adjusted your stance and squared you up to try and punch the board again, Donnie at the ready. Raph held his hands on your shoulders and tried to direct your movement to demonstrate how to shift your weight, when suddenly some movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention.

Before your mind could even register the idea of danger, you ducked.

Raph also stepped back out of the way of a tail whip. Your attention turned to Splinter, eyes wide and alert.

“Good. Your natural instincts are strong, use that to your advantage. Michelangelo, Leonardo, step forward.”

You watched as the four brothers lined up to face Master Splinter, you timidly joined them.

“We are going to play a game to assist Miss (y/n) in honing her mutant abilities. Are you prepared?” He asked you.

You paused a moment then nodded, feeling a bit brave and ready to give it a shot. “Yes.”

“Good. Your goal is to stay out of reach. The boys will try and capture you by stopping your movement. They will be gentle with you, rest assured. But pretend that they are Foot ninja. You need to learn to use your mutant skills to avoid danger.” Master Splinter explained.

You weren’t sure what the trigger was that made your mutant DNA activate, but you were determined to figure it out if it meant staying out of Dr Stockman’s reach. You nodded and took on a stance that Leonardo had taught you, while the boys all moved to different corners of the room.

“Good. Hajime!” Splinter signaled the start of the exercise. First Michelangelo ran over towards you and you ducked out of the way, getting behind him. Donatello tried to sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around you but you dropped to the floor and rolled away. Next, Leonardo swept your legs out from under you and you fell on your back. But you quickly used your momentum to jump back on your feet and backed up to put some distance between you and Leo. You were focusing too much on Leo when you suddenly bumped into Raph, who wrapped his arms around you and startled you enough to make you yelp.

A strange sensation overtook you. You felt a surge of energy fill your body with power and your body started moving on its own. Following the steps of the move you practiced earlier with Michelangelo, you reached up behind you and wrapped your arms around Raphael’s neck, then pulled forward and down with your whole weight, sending Raph curling forward and was flipped onto his back. He laid there eyes wide and stunned, mirroring the expression of everyone else present in the room.

You looked at Raph in shock, then down at your own hands, not fully believing it. Then suddenly the room erupted in whoops of cheer.

“YOOOOO!!! NO WAAAAAY!” Mikey excitedly cheered, grabbing hands with April to jump around excitedly.

Leo relaxed into a cheerful grin, and Donnie was snickering and snorting. Raph sat up with a half grin and you ran over next to him to ask if he was okay.

He rubbed the back of his head tenderly. “Way to go, Tiger.” He smiled at you and you took a sigh of relief.

Master Splinter was stroking his beard thoughtfully with a pleased expression on his face.

“It seems to me that you are at your highest strength when you are caught off guard. But I’m sure with practice you will find a way to harness your power when needed.”

Donnie came over and ruffled your hair while Leo offered Raph a hand to pull him up. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Afterwards it was time to call it a night.

Later that week, one evening you were getting ready for bed in Leo’s room. You heard a knock next to the door.

“Just a moment!” You said while finishing pulling on your sleep shirt.

You walked over to the doorway and parted the fabric to see Mikey standing there with barely contained excitement.

“Come on, I wanna show you something.” He was clearly giddy over something. You thought he might have gotten a new high score on his video game and wanted to show you, but to your surprise he led you down the hallway in the direction of the rest of the boy’s bedrooms. Maybe it was something in his room? But then he walked right past his room and stopped in front of their storage room. You were even more confused now.

A warm glow peaked from underneath the door, and with Mikey’s encouragement, you opened it.

“Surprise!!!”

Everyone was inside waiting for you and with the big reveal. You were greeted by a freshly painted room and a queen sized bed with new sheets and a heavy knit blanket. Fairy lights hung around the walls. A wooden desk and a fuzzy plush chair stood along the far wall with a lamp illuminating a new notebook and an old laptop that Donnie had been working on fixing up. Next to it was a bookshelf with old used books and your favorite salvaged DVDs and games. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Is this… for me?” You asked tentatively.

Donnie stepped forward, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, we figured you would need your own room. Since you’ll most likely be staying with us for quite some time.”

“It was April’s idea. Plus, we figured you’d want your own space, to make you feel more at home here.” Leo said, stepping forward with a grin.

“Yeah!! And I can’t watch late night cartoons with Leo sleeping on the couch all the time!” Mikey complained from beside you earning a jab from Raphael.

“Girls need their privacy. This was the room I used to use when I’d sleepover from time to time, but then it stopped getting used and became overrun with junk. We figured it was time to clean it out and put it to good use.” April said with a happy smile.

“Yeah, and April and I can keep doing grocery store runs for you if you want to keep cooking. God knows it's easier than lugging down 2 dozen pizzas and junk food every week-.” April nudged Casey to shut him up.

Master Splinter stepped forward, holding a small beautiful bonsai tree with vibrant yellow leaves, and handed it to you. “Right now, things may seem new and strange. You have experienced hardships most can never hope to imagine. But you have a home here as long as you wish it. By bond and blood, you are our family, and we will always be there to protect one another.”

Your tears spilled over and ran down your cheeks. You reached out to Master Splinter for an emotional hug. “Thank you… everyone… I don’t know what to say…!” You sniffed.

Raph grunted, “No need. This is our thanks to you for fixing up the place. Just… don’t go flippin’ me no more.” He teased with a grin.

“Nooooo! Don’t say that!! I haven’t gotten it on tape yet!” Mikey complained.

“I’ll send you the video later.” Donatello whispered to him.

“Oh, sick. Right on.”

Raph glared at them.

The next morning, Casey got a call from his supervisor that the Foot Clan had been discovered smuggling stolen chemicals into the Sacks building. But something seemed fishy about it. The Foot were not normally this obvious when moving things around the city. It felt like they wanted to be discovered.

It felt like a trap.

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

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drenix004 · 21 days

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YOU'RE MINE

YOONGI/HOSEOK X READER SOULMATES AU

Summary: “You’re mine”. The man pauses as he stares at the crowd with his sharp eyes.“That’s the first song I’ll be playing tonight. My name is Min Yoongi, and I hope you enjoy your night here”.

Chapter 1 (4.8k words)

Masterlist

Lost in my head, I'm setting my coat and bag into my locker in the back of the kitchen when a tap on my shoulder suddenly reveals Namjoon standing besides me, and I release a soft breath before shutting the metallic door, after which we walk out of the kitchen side by side.

"You got here early today, bun" he comments as we join Jin at the bar, where he's currently polishing the glasses with a smooth towel. He's got that habit of lining them up by the beer taps before his shift begins, knowing that his first half hour will go stress free until he needs to starts the first wash.

"I couldn't sleep that well, so I woke up early and decided to be on my way sooner. Figured I could take it easy with my only friends while we wait until the restaurant opens up" I answer with a little shrug that makes him hum in response.

"Switch the 'only' for 'best', and I won't complain about that sentence you just made". He throws in a wink at my endeared smile before guiding me to one of the stools at the bar counter while he takes the other. "Why couldn't you sleep? Did something happen?".

Jin pushes two glasses of water in front of us while listening in on our conversation, his eyes showing a similar concern as Namjoon when he hears that I've yet to get a good night sleep. It's been happening often, recently.

I met the two men when I got hired at NightSeoul about a year ago, and we've grown very close since then. Then there's also Hoseok, the other bartender and possibly the most handsome man I've ever met, who makes me feel ways I shouldn't. That part's a bit of a mess.

I drink some of the water as I think back to the last few days at Namjoon's question.

"You know, it's the usual. My heart stutters for no reason, like... palpitations. I feel like I have butterflies hatching from their cocoons every single night, except that they're released in my chest instead of outside, and the buzzing keeps getting worse as time goes".

They both look at each other, then at me again. Jin is the one to speak this time.

"Bunny... that could be sign that you're going to meet your soulmate soon. I've heard that it's a new symptom, doctors have been studying it since not too long ago and apparently, within the week, their patients usually state that the feeling has stopped after meeting their other half".

My breath gets stuck in my throat at the words he just said and I look up with round eyes. What?

"He's right" Namjoon insists at my face of disbelief. "I've read about that too, every articles have been backed by the Association of Soul Doctors. They say that the symptoms seem to have evolved, and by consequent, the bonds too. Existing bonds haven't experienced any changes yet, but new ones have been known to include more than the regular first words tattooed on your skin".

"Wait, what are you saying, guys?" I blurt out, this is all so sudden to me that I don't know how to process that new information. What do they mean, the bonds have changed? Are we going through a new era of soulmates? Is that it? How come I didn't see those articles?

Jin sighs as he adjusts his bow tie over the white collar of his uniform.

"It's different for each bonds. Your first words are still inked on the other's skin, but some people have reported being able to hear their soulmate in their mind, feeling their emotions, or even seeing them in their dreams, that kind of thing. The list is being built from scratch since this wasn't a thing before. New bonds are requested to inform the nearest clinic of any unusual details so they can gather more data".

Well, I'll be. "So you're saying that I could be meeting my soulmate within the week" I repeat, just to make sure that I understood that part well, and they both nod at the same time, their eyes showing that they believe that hard as steel.

"When did those symptoms start, bun?" Namjoon asks with a curious tone, now leaning over the counter to have a better look at my face. It shows that he's very interested in my situation, and I'm convinced he'd follow me home everyday just to be first to know any changes if he could.

"It was... four... no, five days ago?" I answer hesitantly, it's hard to put an exact date on it, but it's been a good week where I haven't been able to sleep properly. Is my soulmate stuck in the same boat, unable to have a full night sleep?

"Then you have, today included, three days left where you could potentially meet them" he utters with a look of awe on his face, something I wish I could reciprocate at the moment. This is all so... I wasn't expecting to hear that tonight.

"We'll see, Namjoon. Other case scenario is that I'm dying and we'll find out only once I'm dead".

"Oh, you" Jin scolds from the other side of the counter, a frown on his handsome face as he boops my nose gently. "Don't say things like that so seriously, you'll make us sad, and especially Hoseok. You know he has a feelings for you".

I throw my head back at that. Why did he have to hit me with that argument?

In actuality, Hoseok doesn't have to wait after his soulmate anymore ever since he found out that his bond has been severed, most likely due to his soulmate passing away. He isn't tied to anyone, so he's free when it comes to whom he wants to love.

The problem here is that it's harder to openly reciprocate those feelings when I still have a soulmate.

I feel like I would betray them if I were to choose someone else instead, even if I do have feelings for him, and I can't find it in me to do something like that. It wouldn't sit right with me, like I was doing something very wrong.

"Jin... if I'm going to meet my soulmate soon, the chance that Hoseok and I get together is even lower" I utter softly, then watch as both of their faces soften at my vulnerability.

Jin covers my hand with his while I continue talking, eyes fidgeting between their own. "I can't... I don't want to hurt Hoseok and give him false hope, so I should try to be with my fated one first. After, if it doesn't work out, maybe, if he still wants me. But not before I can meet them".

Lips purse, but no one speaks, knowing that I'm making a good point. It's not fair to Hoseok if I date him, fully aware that there's a chance I might dump him for my soulmate the next day. That would be vile.

There's only one person who doesn't think the same way, and he doesn't fail to let us know as he stops behind our group.

"So you are considering me, then. I wasn't sure anymore until now, that makes me feel better" Hoseok's voice speaks up all of a sudden, making me tense up immediately, and my eyes widen on Jin who sheepishly shrugs, he hadn't noticed that he'd gotten here either.

I turn around to stare at the tall man's athletic and toned body as he walks to the kitchen to put away his belongings like I did earlier, my lips pressed guiltily until Namjoon rubs my back in soothing motions.

I hate this situation, because I'm not indifferent to Hoseok. He's a really good guy and we get along well. He's caring, funny, talented. He makes me feel pretty and loved, and seeing him laugh whenever we joke around is honestly the missing rainbow in my otherwise bare sky.

I would be happy with him, I know that for a fact. He makes me feel good, he makes life shine brighter than ever, but the fact that he is without soulmates doesn't mean I am the same, and who's to say that I wouldn't fall head over heels for them upon meeting?

I can't break his heart, that would feel even worse than rejecting him now. It's just... what if it doesn't click with my soulmate? What if we don't get along?

I let my head fall in my hands, I hate that this is so complicated.

Why did my soulmate take so long to appear in my life? Had it been one year earlier, this wouldn't be happening right now. Hoseok wouldn't have fallen for me, he wouldn't have flirted with me, and I wouldn't be stuck having to say no to someone I have feelings for, someone who deserves all the happiness in the world.

"It'll be okay, bun. Do you want to wait with me at the front desk? It's just you and I working as hosts today, so we'll have the area to ourselves" Namjoon offers with a soft voice and a brush of his fingers over my burning cheek.

"Yeah, let's go" I murmur, thankful that he's offering to keep me company because he could've wanted to stay here. It'll be better if I stay away from where Hoseok works at the bar, it'll make things very awkward for Jin otherwise.

Namjoon and Hoseok have been best friends for years, way before I met them all. I heard from Jin that they went to the same university with a common friend. I honestly come to wonder sometimes, how can Namjoon not be mad at me when I keep putting his friend in that kind of emotional struggle.

I could clearly say no. I'll never date him and that's it. He would give up on me and eventually fall in love with someone else. Simple, right? So why can't I? Why can't I find the strength to make him give up on me?

There must be something wrong with me, I'm broken, or there's a big issue with my head, with my heart. Hoseok deserves better.

We reach the desk in silence, and I watch as Namjoon pulls the low bench closer before sitting on it, after which he pulls me over to sit on his lap with his arms protectively holding onto me, as if doing so could keep my heart from hurting any more.

I melt within his embrace, face tucked against his shoulder where it's warm and safe, and he sighs as we stay like that for many long minutes without speaking a word, uncaring of the other employees who come in for their shift from the entrance.

"The heart is a complicated matter" he eventually murmurs, voice quiet and meant only for me.

"But I believe that... as long as the decision made makes you happy, there is no wrong decision. Having a soulmate... that's not definitive. Some people find their comfort in their fated one, others prefer to choose who they love. There's no right or wrong options there".

I remain silent at first, because what do I say to that?

He makes a good point, but the simple thought of rejecting the one that fate had chosen for me makes my heart ache a thousand times. Have I been feeling like this all week only to reject the soul linked to mine?

Those butterflies... what if they're here to warn me of the feelings yet to come? What if they end up being just as strong as the flurries of wings fluttering within me?

"I don't know what to do anymore, Joon" I whisper. "If my soulmate came up to me and told me that they didn't want me, that they loved someone else, I would be physically, emotionally and mentally crushed. Yet, rejecting Hoseok crushes me too. It's unfair for him, and for me. It would have been easier if he were my soulmate, I wish he were".

Namjoon, big as he is, hugs me tighter, brows furrowed at the sadness he can hear in my voice. He feels torn between both sides, but ultimately, he knows that the final choice isn't his. No matter how easy he believes the decision to be, it isn't and he knows that.

He will never blame me for choosing my soulmate over Hoseok, but he would also regret to see Hoseok with a broken heart once more. We like each other, he can see it whenever we're together, no one is denying that, so why is it so hard?

We stay like that until it's time to get ready for the first customers, and once I'm up on my feet again, our shift officially begins.

Not many people arrive right away, but when they do, Namjoon and I follow the usual routine of splitting our work and tasks so that we never leave people waiting for too long. It's worked well for us for all this time, and we've no need to change anything.

For the next hours, the waiters and waitresses do their job, I do mine, and there's nothing else to think about other than whether or not that table is clean enough for the next customers. I like that, not having to think about complicated matters while I'm working.

Some people prefer a mental job, sat at a desk to play with paperwork and deal with numbers all day long, but I find my peace in needing only my body. I answer calls when the phone rings, I make people pay their bills at the cash register if they haven't done so at the table, and so on.

It's simple. Exhausting, yes, but simple.

The dining room eventually fills at what we consider 'Thursday top rush', and as I walk back to the front desk, I find a man dressed in black and white with a guitar case over his back walking in, guided by Namjoon. It looks like they're having a friendly chat, do they know each other?

I take place at the desk just in case, but I can't help but glance towards them every once in a while as they near the bar. Namjoon looks really happy, but I can't hear what they're saying. Maybe they were part of the same group friends, once.

It's right as I'm about to look away that I notice the way that Hoseok's eyes widen in shock once he sees him too, lips parting slightly as if he just saw a ghost, his brows nearly disappearing into his few loose strands of red hair.

The guitarist seems to freeze in place too, the two of them unable to look away for even one second, and then Hoseok is running around the counter to hug the newcomer, and I watch with a weird feeling settling in my chest as they hold onto one another tightly, almost desperately.

What's going on there?

Hoseok wipes his eyes with a nod of the head as they say something, and he quickly looks away when he finds me staring, a glimpse of unease flashing across his face that makes me feel as if I saw something I shouldn't have.

Namjoon looks back in my direction too, and his eyes fill with the same kind of glow. Wow... way to make me feel good right now. I'm starting to wonder if I should maybe have accepted to stay home after all.

There wasn't particularly a need for me to work today since they already had enough people, but I wanted the salary so my boss didn't keep me from coming in. I thought that was nice, but now... I don't know, tonight has been strange, I'm not feeling so well today.

No one comes over to explain anything so I try to ignore those feelings and focus on work instead, but there comes a time when one of the groups seated at a large table asks me to bring a bottle of wine that has turned back to the bar, and not having anything else to do, I can only accept even though half of me wants to avoid Hoseok at all cost.

If he's going to get all awkward on me because I saw him with an old crush or something, it'll be uncomfortable for me. I'd rather he be honest and tell me what's up, because if he leaves me guessing, we both know how far I can get with my imagination.

I make it to the bar with dragging feet, a look towards the stage kept at the end of the dining room showing that the guitarist is getting ready to play for the first section of the night, which is usually the shortest. I've never seen him before so he must be new in the field.

I set the bottle on the counter, inwardly swearing when Jin is the one most busy while Hoseok is cleaning glasses and shots at the sink. He looks up at the sound of the heavy bottle, then pauses what he's doing when he finds me standing behind it.

I look down to avoid his gaze, and he bites on his lips before putting everything away to get closer.

"One of the tables asked that I bring this here, so I did. They said that it turned, I figure you can just trash it if needed" I explain quietly as he keeps staring at me, the bottle the last of his concern when something worse is going on right now.

"Alright... thank you".

I nod briefly, feeling the tension so thick that I could slice it in half with a knife if only I had one. He really won't say anything, will he? I don't know if I should be relieved that he's setting that kind of boundary between us, or if I should be worried. What's there to be worried about, though?

"You two looked close" I blurt out while pointing at the guitarist.

Yeah, there you go, Y/N. Make things worse on your own, why don't you.

"Oh. Yeah, uh...".

Hoseok sighs, looking like he's coming to terms with having to tell me about it. I don't know what kind of past they have together, but it can't be small if he looks this hesitant. Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut, I ended up making him uncomfortable instead.

"Please look at me, Y/N. I don't like it when you avoid me like this" he pleads softly, but I childishly turn a blind eye to that request, needing more time to get myself back together before I can look him in the eyes.

I can tell that he'd prefer if I could hold eye contact with him as he speaks, which he often uses to prove his sincerity, but I can sense that my heart would make all sorts of unpleasant things if I did, so I keep staring at my feet instead. He sighs deeply, disappointed.

"Yoongi and I... we had a thing going on at university, only Namjoon knew about it. A situationship that lasted around a year. I really loved him, but he started feeling guilty about being with me while knowing that he had a soulmate he'd yet to meet, so he broke things off between us. I hadn't seen him since that day".

I nod, feeling bad now that I know he once had someone in his heart before me. It doesn't require someone very observant to see that he still has feelings for that man, and though my heart pinches at the knowledge, I smile through the pain.

I force my gaze up to meet his, and though I'm sure he can see everything in my eyes, I stay strong.

"What if it is fate that he's back here, on the stage of the restaurant where you work? Maybe this is your chance, Hoseok. Talk to him. Who knows what his life is like, now" I offer with a pat to his shoulder, then walk off before he can say anything else.

This is the best I can do for him. He loved that man and the feeling seemed mutual, seeing as they both couldn't let go of one another. Maybe this is a good way to end whatever exists between the two of us. My body thrums in disapproval at that thought, and I clench my jaw tightly.

God damn it, I hate this heart of mine.

I wish I could get rid of those emotions right away and show everyone that I don't care who ends up dating who, but it's far from the truth. Seeing him with someone else only made me more aware of those feelings.

I smile at Namjoon when we end up at the desk together for a couple minutes, and though I can tell that there are things he wants to say, I don't really give him the opportunity when I keep changing the subject to random things.

I feel like my sanity is barely holding on at this point.

We share a few more words, and then the mic turns on with the speakers resonating until the sound finally settles. A few taps echo in the room to test the sound, and I don't think much of it as I adjust the menus on the desk.

Namjoon walks away to have a look at the tables, and I remain behind on my own, unaware of the storm coming my way.

Once that guy has played for up to an hour, I bet he'll end up at the bar to talk with Hoseok and Namjoon. Jin will become friends with him quickly, he's like that. It's just me who struggles with making new friends, it's not something that comes easy to me.

I can't lie and say that I'm not scared of losing the only ones I have, but at the same time, I know that it's an unrealistic fear. Namjoon and Jin care about me, Hoseok does too. I won't end up pushed aside just because someone new appeared back in their lives.

If it happens, it will be solely my fault.

I look up towards the stage again, unable to resist the pull that wants to get my eyes there anymore.

What was his name already? Gosh, I forgot. He looks handsome with his black hair that shows some pretty curls at the ends, his black leather pants that stick to his thighs and his long white t-shirt that's ripped in some calculated spots.

He looks like the common bad boy from the university campus, for some reason. I can't tell if that's only his stage look or if he always dresses that way, but it's hard to imagine Hoseok dating someone like that. Maybe it's just my jealous mind speaking right now.

Jealous... as if I have the right to feel that way. Christ.

Suddenly, the guitarist leans over to the mic, and the first words he speaks leave me in complete chills, soul and heart swooning at the same time. There's a moment where I wonder if the butterflies will tear a hole through my chest to make it out, and then one where I wish they would to make this stop.

"You're mine". The man pauses as he stares at the crowd with his sharp eyes. "That's the first song I'll be playing tonight. My name is Min Yoongi, and I hope you enjoy your night here".

By the time he's done talking, I've lost my balance and needed to hold onto the desk at the wave of dizziness that suddenly washed over me.

Not one of sickness, but rather one that would result from my senses all waking up at the same time. It's like fireworks are exploding in my head, their sound so loud that it being my heart would be unlikely, and yet, here it is, at the very source of that storm.

It thrums, twists and quivers in my chest, as if it too would rather flee than stay in this cursed body.

Yoongi's fingers pull on the first string of his guitar, and the melody begins to resound in the room, slow, soft and soothing. Then his voice begins to sing, and it fills my mind, all of it, crystal clear despite the chitchat of the customers eating in the room, and so many feelings merge within me all at the same time that for one second, I'm sure I'll throw up on the carpet.

The thrill of adrenaline and stress flood my veins until they're all I can feel anymore, and I don't hear the sound of my own voice even as I plead for it to stop, legs shaking beneath me as I try to avoid tumbling to the floor.

It's like my being has completely flown out of my grasp, as if someone took it from my body to do with it as they pleased, and the experience is excruciating. How do I make this stop?

Going to the bathroom in the kitchen has never been so complicated before, and I wilfully ignore the eyes that fall on me as I walk past them to push the door open. I lock it behind me, then fall over the sink to wash my face with cold water, the voice still as clear as when we were in the same room.

I can hear it in my head as if he's singing right beside me. Why? What's happening to me?

Namjoon and Jin's words come back to mind, reminding me of the new types of bonds, and then a flash of black ink on my arm suddenly catches my attention, and my heart rises to my throat when I look down to find the same words I heard a minute ago now written there.

You're mine.

Oh no.

No, this makes no sense.

Hoseok's ex is my soulmate?

Fuck.

I turn off the water and clumsily dry my face with the paper towels as my mind keeps running a mile an hour. This isn't right, fate must be playing a game on me, there's no other way.

What do I do? I can't go back out there, Hoseok will see my arm and he'll make the links right away. It's one thing that I reject him, but he was supposed to find his happily ever after too, if at least in the arms of the man he once loved. I can't be taking everything from him in a single night!

"I need to go home" I finally utter to myself as Yoongi's voice now continually flow into my head without resistance, the song that comes to an end merging into another one after he gives the title. I can't work like this, and I especially cannot face Hoseok.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I quickly make it to my locker where I wear my coat, needing to hide the mark first.

Then, after grabbing my bag, I head over to the back door leading outside after telling one of the kitchen staff to let Namjoon know I went home if he looks for me, and that I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly.

The door swings behind me as I begin to run down the sidewalk to get as far as possible, everything a blur around me even as I try to focus on the smallest details. It's not that dark out yet, but the clouds have begun to hide the sun, a telltale that it'll rain soon.

With distance, the voice begins to fade from my head, as do the feelings that weren't mine, which allows me to gain awareness of my own state. My chin is wobbling, tears falling down my cheeks, but I can't even remember when it started. Did I cry inside? Did they all see that?

Fuck this. How do I even begin to explain what happened once they ask me questions tomorrow? Did that guitarist feel the bond too? Or was it just me?

Maybe he didn't feel anything since he didn't hear my voice. My words won't be on his skin, so the bond won't have woken up on his end. Or is that not how it works anymore? I don't even know what to believe now, everything's becoming a mess.

Droplets of rain begin to fall onto my skin and I clutch my bag to my chest, hoping to get home before it gets any worse. It's a good thing that I live nearby.

I really should've stayed home after all, god damn it all.

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