#Cop!Yoongi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minisugakoobies · 1 year

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Ashes Falling | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut, crack, DadYoongi!AU, BadCop!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - guns, switching POVs, angst!, allusions to murder, mentions of blood/wounds, fighting (hand-to-hand), shooting, Yoongi shows off that tongue technology (oral sex - f receiving), rough fucking (protected sex), Yoongi is not a good guy (ymmv)

Word Count: 5.3k (whoops)

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: I see the ashes falling out your window There's someone in the mirror that you don't know And everything was all wrong So burn it till it's all gone

A/N: And we've reached the end! This series came out of absolutely nowhere thanks to @minttangerines's beautiful brain and it's been fun just writing with no plan and no expectations. Thank you for riding along! 💜

Chapter title and summary from Agust D's masterpiece Burn It 🔥

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Part 6 💵 Bad Cop Masterlist

Then

Yoongi sits across from you, one hand resting on the dining table, the other playing with a glass of whisky. Around and around, the caramel liquid swirls. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was trying to hypnotize you.

And it might work, if you were anyone else. Of course, anyone else would already be under the handsome man’s thrall. Especially the way he looks tonight - in his tailored suit, bespoke undoubtedly, since money is apparently no object for him, and with his dark hair slicked back to reveal more of his gorgeous face.

When he’d asked you to dinner tonight, you’d felt a slight thrill of victory, knowing that your plan was working. You’d succeeded so far in inserting yourself into his life. All the secrets the Bureau wanted so desperately for you to discover were practically within your grasp. You just needed a sign from him to confirm that you’re in.

“So are you thinking of extending your contact?” Yoongi asks, sipping at his drink. You’d told him when you’d first met that you were working for Da-som’s school for a year, with the option to extend if the school agreed. He speaks casually, almost disinterestedly, but you can hear the true question beneath - are you staying?

“I think so. I really like it here.”

A hint of a smile crosses his face at your answer. Long fingers reach into the inside pocket of his jacket and produce a cigarette, which he lights with the click of a flashy silver lighter. There’s not supposed to be any smoking in this restaurant, but no one’s going to stop the chief detective of the city’s police force, and he knows it. It’s a power move.

“Good,” is all he says, blowing a smoke ring towards the ceiling.

Anyone other than you would be affected by his reaction. By the heated look he gives you, gaze slipping down your face, down to your waist, and back. Not you, though. You know better than to fall for any of this.

This is what you remind yourself as you push your thighs together, trying to still the sudden throbbing there.

Your waiter returns with the bill and Yoongi simply reaches into his pocket, dropping a stack of cash on the tray without looking. Another power move.

“Thank you for dinner,” you smile shyly, setting down your dessert fork. “I’m - I’m glad you asked me. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better these last few weeks.”

He leans forward, reaching his hand across the table to where yours is resting. When his fingers tap you, you flip your hand over and he slides his hand on top of yours. You immediately register something cool and hard between your palms.

“Me too,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to stop.”

He pulls his hand back a little, curling your fingers around what he’s left behind. Yoongi stands, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it as he bows.

“I’ll be waiting,” he murmurs, lips humming against your skin, and then he walks away. You track him as he saunters confidently through the crowded room, until he reaches the entrance of the restaurant and vanishes.

Opening your hand, you stare down at the piece of plastic lying there. A room key, to the hotel next door. There it is - your sign.

The excitement that blazes through you is the ecstasy of knowing you’ve succeeded. Of realizing that you’re one step closer to the win, and nothing else.

This is what you tell yourself as you rise to your feet, and follow.

Now

Your bag rests on the passenger seat as you hurtle down the highway. The car you’re driving is a piece of shit, but you were in no position to barter when you’d asked Seokjin if he had anything you could borrow to finish your mission. He’d called a friend of a friend and mere minutes later you were on your way.

The police cruiser is still at Seokjin's, along with Jungkook. Your partner had been sleeping when you’d left, whispering a quick goodbye, telling him to stay put and rest while you finished the job. Seokjin promised he’d take care of him and you had no doubt that he would be safe there.

The car’s shocks are fairly worn, meaning every little bump in the road sends your satchel bouncing. Instinctively, you reach out, searching until you find the little key tucked away in an inner pocket. The cold metal soothes you as you clutch at it anxiously. This is it, the final key to bringing Yoongi down.

Your plan is, frankly, insane. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Thankfully, Seokjin gave you access to his personal arsenal, which is not small. But even if you’re strapped to the teeth, you’ll practically need a miracle.

However, you’re not the praying type. Your faith resides solely in yourself. So you breathe deeply, and keep your eyes firmly on the road as you run through your plan again and again in your mind.

As the bay comes into view, you pull over, parking the car near the entrance to the neighborhood where Yoongi’s second house resides. You’ll have to go on foot from here, to remain unseen by his men. Yoongi’s too careful to leave this place unmanned.

You approach the fence bordering his mansion, peering between the iron bars. His vacation home is massive, a sprawling ode to excess, flaunting his new wealth. The layout of the place is fresh in your mind, thanks to floor plans stolen from the developer. Unfortunately, that’s not going to help you much if you’re outnumbered by Yoongi’s men. If only you could’ve waited for sundown, to give you more cover, or waited for backup, but right now you don’t have the luxury of time.

A hand suddenly slips over your mouth and your eyes widen as someone presses their body against your back. Fuck! You grasp at their arm, readying yourself to attack, when a familiar voice hisses, “Don’t scream! It’s me.”

“Jungkook! What the fuck!”

Your partner releases you. He’s a little paler than usual, but otherwise looks like himself, even in Seokjin’s clothing, a black t-shirt tucked under a Kevlar vest, colorful sleeve of tattoos bright in the midday sun.

“Did you really think I was gonna let you do this alone?” He grins, ignoring your scowl. “Now what’s the plan?”

There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s here now, and even though you’re full of conflicting emotions - anger that he didn’t listen to you, guilt that you’re the reason he got injured - the feeling that overrides them all is pure, intense relief. Of course he’s by your side. You’re not alone.

It doesn’t take long to fill him in. You’re basically just going in there with guns blazing, hoping to fight your way to where you believe Yoongi’s safe sits, holding the box with the secrets that little key will unlock.

Jungkook just nods when you’ve finished. “Got it.”

“We should probably call for backup.”

“Already did, on the way here. They’ll be here as fast as they can, but something tells me that you don’t want to wait.”

“I don’t.” You need this to be over, now.

“Okay then. Ready when you are.”

“Jungkook.” You pause, unsure how to say this. “I’m sorry. For everythi- ”

But he stops you with a shake of his head. “None of that. We’ve got a job to do.” He cups his hands, waiting to give you a boost over the fence. “Come on. You lead. I’ll follow. Like always.”

With a nod of your own, you step onto his hands, and climb the fence.

Then

Yoongi glances at his watch. It’s only been five minutes since he left you sitting at the table, but it feels much, much longer. Too long. He loosens his tie a bit as he waits. His suit jacket is folded over the back of the chair beside the bed. The room is quiet.

Is he rushing things? It’s very like him to do that. He could move more slowly with you. But, well, he doesn’t want to. He wants you now.

Which is why he’s here, perched on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Waiting.

It’s not just about sex. If Yoongi only wanted to get his dick wet, he wouldn’t have to take anyone out on several dates first. That’s not arrogance - it’s a fact that he radiates power, and women are attracted to that. And he knows he looks good. He has mirrors.

No, it’s more than that - although he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been imagining this moment since the first time he saw you in Da-som’s classroom. He’d been so distracted by your beauty at the parent-teacher conference that he’d accidentally agreed to chaperone a class trip, just nodding along to whatever you were saying while picturing what you’d look like if he bent you over your desk right then and there. But beyond his baser needs, there’s something else. Something that draws him to you. He senses a kindred spirit. He needs to know how deep that connection goes.

There’s a loud click and the door suddenly opens. Yoongi stands as you enter.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” you say, biting your lip before smiling sweetly.

In just three steps he’s across the room, pulling you into his arms for a passionate kiss.

He quietly orders you to lift your arms, and the gorgeous dress you’d worn to dinner crumples into a soft ball of fabric on the ground. With sure steps he maneuvers you towards the bed, helping you sit on the edge, kindly freeing your breasts from the confining corsetry of your bra as he goes. While you settle onto the soft sheets, he slides your panties down your legs, taking care to rake his fingers along the soft skin there, delighting in the way you shudder at his touch.

The plush carpet gives way beneath his knees as he kneels, leaning over to kiss you, getting lost in the incredible softness of your lips for a moment, until your hands reach for the buttons on his shirt. His hands lightly push yours away as he shakes his head.

“Not yet, baby.”

“But I wanna see you,” you say, pretty mouth turning down in a lovely little pout. “It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re not.”

He just chuckles. Smoothly, he undoes one cufflink, then the other, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms flex with the motion, drawing your attention, and he smirks.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, “I’ll still put on a good show for you.”

He kneels again, gently pressing his fingers into the bare skin of your stomach, urging you to lie back. One of your thighs comes to rest on his shoulder, then the other. With one hand he spreads your folds, saliva flooding his mouth at the glistening sight in front of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look good enough to eat.”

You mewl as he kisses your dripping cunt, over and over, getting his mouth all sticky with your desire. Yoongi always follows through on his promises, and this is no exception. You can’t tear your eyes away from the dark-haired man as he rubs his lips, his tongue, his nose all over you, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Occasionally your head drops back, your eyes closing as if overwhelmed by the sensations, but then they immediately open again, not wanting to miss a second.

“Yoongi.”

Panting moans fill Yoongi’s ears as he drowns in you. When he finds the right rhythm with his tongue on your clit, a rapid lapping that has your hips lifting off the bed, he slides a finger inside your slick warmth, then two, three, and your moans become cries. Pleas, broken and desperate, begging him for more.

Impatience roars up inside him again and he lets your legs slide from his broad shoulders. His cock aches as he tears off his clothing, sheathing himself with the condom waiting in his pocket, and you’ve barely moved up on the bed to make room for him when he’s sliding inside you. Fuck. So warm, so tight. A space carved out just for him.

The headboard smacks into the wall repeatedly as Yoongi thrusts into you, hips slapping your ass with every sharp snap. You’re babbling, an endless stream of words pouring from your mouth, but the only words Yoongi can make out are “Yoongi” and “more.”

“You want more, baby? I’ll give you everything. Anything you could ever want.”

He goes harder, faster, driving his cock deeper and deeper. His hands grope at your breasts, your ass, as you take everything he has to give. When he feels your walls start to constrict, it’s almost a relief, because he’s not going to last much longer. And sure enough, when your orgasm hits, your cunt grips his cock so tightly that he cums, head dropping onto your chest as he fills the condom with his hot release.

He lies that way, cheek pressed into the curve of your breast, breathing heavily as you both come down. From here, he can feel your heart pounding. It’s not identical to the way his own drums, but instead compliments it, a wild syncopation beating along to the steady pulse of his own tempo. His fingers tap along your sternum.

“Is that morse code?” Your voice is just barely above a whisper, as if you don’t want to shatter the peaceful stillness of the moment.

He lifts his head, smiling. “That’s your heartbeat. I’m playing along.”

“Playing what, my collarbones?”

“My piano.” His fingers dance over imaginary keys, caressing your skin so, so gently.

“I didn’t know you had a piano. Or that you could play.”

There’s so much you don’t know about him. So much he wants to show you. But he knows that it will take time. He has to ease you into his world.

“I’ll play for you sometime,” he says, crawling up your body until his face hovers over yours. “If you’d like.”

“I would like that. Very much,” you reply, lips curling into a shy grin, and he kisses it away until you’re breathless.

Eventually, he has to go. He needs to get home to Da-som. Yoongi can defeat any enemy - except a babysitter with a curfew.

He sits on the edge of the bed, fixing his tie, as you watch him from beneath the sheets. “The room’s paid for until tomorrow, so you can stay all night if you want. Order some room service in the morning. Treat yourself, sweetheart.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “You keep calling me that.”

“Is that okay?”

In reply, you pull him in for another kiss, and he sighs, wishing he could stay. Or take you home with him. But he’s not ready to have that conversation with Da-som yet. Even though he’s rushing everything else.

He taps his fingers on your chest. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

He starts to rise, but you grab his wrist, holding him in place.

“Yoongi. I don’t…”

He says nothing, waiting for you to find your words.

“I don’t do this with every father I meet, you know,” you finish, flashing that beautiful bashful smile again.

“Just me?”

“Just you.” Your hand reaches out to straighten his tie, but then you gently brush your fingertips over his chest, mimicking his actions from earlier. Tap-tap-tap.

In that moment, Yoongi knows. He’ll do anything for you. Like he told you earlier, when he was wrapped in your arms - he’ll give you anything you want.

All you have to do is ask.

Now

Bodies. So many bodies, scattered around the grounds of his house. Yoongi blinks dispassionately at them all. He thought he’d hired the best. Clearly, he was wrong.

Yoongi honestly hadn’t known what to expect when he and Jimin arrived at his house on the bay. One of his guards had called him while he was on his way here and alerted him that you’d been spotted near the fence bordering his property. He’d hoped that when he got here, he’d find you waiting for him, tied to a chair by one of his guards. But it appears that he’d underestimated your skills, if you managed to take out so many of his men at once.

No one appears to be dead, but they’re all knocked out or wounded. Interesting. Are you afraid to use lethal force? Or are you just saving your best shots for him?

Together, he and Jimin sweep the first floor, finding nothing but his more useless guards. With a few silent signals, Jimin indicates that he’s going to scout ahead, and begins to climb the stairs. Yoongi watches him disappear down the hallway with a growing sense of unease. He tightens his grip on his gun.

Jimin reappears after a moment, shaking his head. There’s only the other end of the hallway to explore now. The master suite is down that way. Where, in one of the walk-in closets, nestled in the corner, sits Yoongi’s safe.

Maybe you’re not here. Maybe you’re already gone, with the contents of the safe firmly in tow. Maybe it’s all over, and any second now, this place will be swarming with feds. For the briefest of moments, Yoongi feels the strangest sense of relief at the thought.

And then the moment is broken as a very loud “God damn it!!” rings out.

Jimin instinctively points his gun in the direction of the screaming. It’s coming from the master suite. Yoongi joins him at the top of the stairs.

“It’s her,” he states in a hushed tone. “That’s her voice.”

“Sounds like someone might be giving her a rough time?”

There are no other sounds coming from the direction of the suite. No more curses, no scuffling, none of the sickening noises that a human body makes when someone else is beating the shit out of it.

“Nah. She’s working on the combination.”

“At least it sounds like it’s not going well.”

For the moment. You have the key to the safe, but it’s a dual lock system, requiring a combination as well. Yoongi has no doubt you’ll figure out the date he used. It’s just a matter of time.

So he’d better not give you any more.

Yoongi grimaces, the gun suddenly heavy in his hands. “You ready?”

Jimin nods.

Silently, they creep forward. The door to the master suite looms at the end of the hall, and Yoongi feels his already frantic pulse increasing with every step.

And then a floorboard creaks under Yoongi’s foot. Loudly.

Both men pause, staring at one another. Listening. Waiting.

The door at the end of the hall starts to open. Jimin dives into an empty room to his left, while Yoongi dashes into the bathroom on his right

The mirror mounted on the wall faces towards the end of the hallway. As Yoongi hides, he stares at the reflection of the person emerging from the suite. Shit, it’s Jungkook, gun drawn as he carefully sweeps the other open rooms down the hall. So much for Jimin’s incredible marksman skills - the rookie cop slash undercover agent doesn’t look any worse for wear, let alone dead.

The door at the end of the hall opens again. Yoongi’s breath catches. With a fiercely determined expression on your face and that gun in your hand, you look nothing like the sweet, shy teacher he met all those months ago. A mirthless chuckle bubbles up in his chest. He clenches his jaw to keep it down. Funny how he was right - you are a kindred spirit, after all. Just a funhouse version of one. Staring at him from the other side of the mirror.

“Jungkook,” he hears you whisper, tracing your partner’s footsteps. “Where are you?”

“In here. Did you crack it?” Jungkook reappears, gun lowered, and -

BANG!

A bullet slices through the air between you and Jungkook. The two of you immediately dive, raising your guns in the direction of the gunshot - which, of course, was just Jimin announcing his presence.

“Drop your weapon and come out!” you shout.

Jimin just laughs, shaking his head. “Does that shit ever work?”

“Goddamn it, it’s that maniac again,” you hiss, loud enough for Yoongi to hear.

“Did you miss me, love?” Another wild cackle. Yoongi glares at the younger man, but says nothing, not wanting to give away his location.

Faster than lightning, Jimin fires another shot towards the end of the hall.

“Fuck!” Jungkook yells, placing himself between you and the line of sight to the room where Yoongi can see Jimin crouching just inside. “Get back in there and keep trying! I’ll handle this asshole.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, Yoongi looks at Jimin. He points to himself and then the door at the end of the hall. Jimin nods.

“Oh, you will, will you?” Jimin taunts Jungkook. He grins at Yoongi. “I think - HEY!” Jimin dives aside as a bullet pierces the doorway, embedding itself firmly in the open door that Jimin was just leaning against. “You son of a bitch, you almost clipped my hair!”

“Next one’s going in your forehead!”

“As if you could hit my forehead!”

“How can I miss a target that big?”

“THAT’S IT!” Jimin roars. “YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?” He rolls up his sleeves, giant snake tattoo on his arm practically dancing as he clenches his fists.

“Yeah! You already took one from me! It’s time for payback!”

Jimin unbuckles his harness, letting the weapons hit the floor. “Then let’s do this! I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands!”

“LET’S GO, MOTHERFUCKER!” Jungkook screams, and suddenly there are two blurs flying down the hallway towards each other. They collide with a loud “whump!” and Yoongi quickly slips out of the bathroom and towards the master suite.

He opens the door slowly, much slower than the adrenaline coursing through his body wants him to, but he doesn’t want you to hear him entering. The two men behind him pay no attention, lost in their frenzy, powerful blows landing left and right. Yoongi closes the door just as carefully, twisting the knob so the lock clicks quietly into place.

Gun raised, he takes one step towards the closet. Then another. The door is wide open, but the closet is so big that he can’t see the safe in the corner. Or you.

As soon as he crosses the threshold, there’s a loud shriek as you jump out from behind the door and tackle him. His gun goes flying. He lands on his side, the breath in his lungs whooshing out hurriedly as you roll on top of him, thighs straddling his chest.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” You cock your gun, aiming it straight at his head. “I knew that maniac didn’t come alone.”

Although your hands are steady, your chest rises with every panting breath you take, Yoongi notes. He feels his entire tensed body relax. You’re scared.

Good.

Yoongi smirks. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Shoot me?” He grabs the barrel of your gun as you gasp, but your finger doesn’t squeeze the trigger, even when he pulls it down until it presses into his forehead. “Go ahead.”

“Stop it!” You try to yank your gun free, but he refuses to let go. You tug harder and harder, until he finally relinquishes his grip, and the force of your momentum throws you off balance. Yoongi scrambles to grab his gun as you’re knocked into a pile of hangers and clothing lying in a heap on the ground. When you rise, there’s a bright red line of blood seeping down your cheek, from where a hanger has cut you.

The two of you face off, guns drawn. Yoongi tuts.

“Oh, sweetheart, your face. That looks nasty.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snarl.

“No? But I thought you liked it?”

“I never did.”

“Ah. Right. All part of the game, huh?” Yoongi laughs. “None of it was real, huh.”

“It’s all over now.” Blood trickles down your cheek, dripping onto the pristine white carpet below. “Put the gun down, Yoongi. Think about Da-som. Think about -”

“No!” Yoongi takes a step forward. You hold your ground, but he swears he catches a flash of fear in your eyes. He should know, he’s seen it many times before. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! No one tells me what to do! I make the rules around here. I call the shots!”

“Not anymore! We know everything. Everything. Your empire is burning down, Yoongi - don’t throw your life away trying to protect ashes!”

“Oh, you know everything?” The mad laughter that’s been choking him finally slips past his lips. “Do you really? Fuck! You have no fucking idea!” Another step forward. He keeps his gun raised, but he’s cackling so wildly that his aim is all over the place. “Do you have any idea what I would’ve done for you? What I would’ve given you? Anything you wanted, anything you needed, it all would’ve been yours!”

“It wasn’t real, Yoongi!”

“IT WAS REAL TO ME!”

You freeze, eyes wide, as his shout echoes through the suite. Faintly, Yoongi can hear Jungkook and Jimin still fighting in the hallway. But it’s dead silent in the closet, where you’re still gazing at his face, as if searching for some sort of sign.

Yoongi lowers his gun. He closes the gap between you, ignoring that your gun is now pointed directly at his heart, and reaches out with steady fingers.

Tap-tap-tap

The silence in the closet is stifling, pressing in on him. But then you take in a shuddery breath. When Yoongi dares to look up, he sees tears in your eyes.

But time, it seems, has run out.

In the distance, but growing closer, he can hear the blaring wail of sirens.

“YN!” Jungkook yells. The doorknob rattles. “Are you okay in there?”

Yoongi’s fucked. He’s going down, and -

“Go,” you whisper. “You have to run.”

There’s a loud thumping. Jungkook must be trying to break the door down with brute force. He’ll probably go grab his gun and try to shoot his way in next. Or any moment now, agents are going to come crashing through the windows. These are the panicked thoughts that race through Yoongi’s mind and prevent him from understanding what you’ve said. You drop your gun and grab his arms, shaking him.

“Yoongi! Do you hear me? You have to run!” There’s a ferocity in your eyes that Yoongi’s never seen in anyone’s gaze but his own. “I know you have a back way out of here. You have to go now. Yoongi? Hey!”

SMACK!

There’s a white-hot sting on his cheek.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” He rubs away the pain left behind by your slap.

A ghost of a smile crosses your face. The door has stopped shaking. “Listen, Jungkook will be in here any second. My team is likely already setting up a barricade and surrounding the place. You have to get to the water. Grab Da-som, start running, and never look back.”

Da-som. Son of a bitch, he can’t lose her. The weight of everything he stands to lose finally comes crashing down. “Fuck, what have I done?”

There’s a shout from the hallway, a berserker cry, and Yoongi realizes Jimin must have rallied for one last attack. Quickly, you take Yoongi’s hands, guiding him to stand again, and then lead him to the far corner of the master bedroom, where you push aside a bookshelf to reveal a darkened passageway, hidden from the outside. You really did know everything.

Or at least, now you do.

The screaming sirens have stopped. Yoongi can hear voices out on the lawn.

“I know you said you’re the one calling the shots, but you need to listen to me now. I’ll take care of everything else. But you - you can’t ever resurface, Yoongi. This is a one-time deal. Take Da-som and disappear. Please,” you whisper, clutching his hands. “Please, do this. If not for Da-som, if not for you - do it for me.”

Even with his impending doom hovering just on the other side of the bedroom door, Yoongi can’t stop the way he feels. Of course he’ll run.

Anything for you.

Footsteps begin to echo throughout the house. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, embracing you one last time as his lips crash onto yours.

And then he runs.

Epilogue

You open the door to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and flop onto the couch. Another fucking long day. The planning for your latest mission is completely draining your energy. For not the first time in recent weeks, you wonder if you should listen to Jungkook’s advice and put in for that time off request. You could definitely use the break.

Unconsciously, your fingers rub at the scar on your cheek. It hasn’t hurt for years, but in the last few weeks, it’s been itching like crazy. Jungkook always jokes that he can tell that it’s going to rain whenever his bullet wound aches. You wonder what the scar is trying to tell you.

Eventually, you drag yourself off the couch and shuffle down the hallway towards the bathroom, dying for a shower. But then you hear a soft sound coming from the door behind you, like something’s sliding along the floor, and you freeze.

There’s an envelope laying in the entryway. Instinctively, you place a hand on the holster of your gun as you peer through the peephole. No one there. No one in the hallway, either, when you open your door.

The envelope has your first name on it, nothing else. With careful fingers, you tear it open, and read the scrap of paper inside:

35.9285° N, 128.5774° E

Coordinates. To what location?

You flip it over:

I’ll be waiting.

You sink onto the couch, staring so intently at the words that you’re surprised the paper doesn’t burst into flames from the intensity of your gaze.

It’s been five years with no word on Yoongi’s whereabouts. Once Jungkook finally knocked out Jimin and shot the door open, he’d found you lying on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. Yoongi had given up and fled the scene. The Bureau believed your story, likely helped by the fact that Yoongi had left behind his safe and all the secrets it contained. His empire crumbled.

Even though Yoongi’d evaded your capture, you were hailed as the hero of the day and moved on to the next case. And the next, and the next. Days turned into months turned into years.

Once the mission was over, you never brought it up again. Occasionally, Jungkook or Seokjin would try to get you to talk. But you simply told them that you had nothing to say. The case was closed.

(To say nothing of your heart.)

And yet… it wasn’t entirely true. If you’d chosen to talk to your friends, you might have told them that you still found yourself thinking about it from time to time. About Yoongi. And where he was. That sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d scour countless resources, searching for him. Yet no matter how much you looked, you never found a single sign.

Until, maybe, now. You glance at the paper, and it dawns on you what it really is.

A key.

…

You rise to your feet.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #bad cop!au #fic: ashes falling #possumswrite

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thatgoddamngingerundercut · 5 days

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Agust D 'Haegeum' MV

#agust d #min yoongi #bts #suga #bts suga #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts gifs #my gifs #i call this set 'yoongi and the cop car' lol #baby please learn how to sit in a car you are gonna get hereditaried #cw flashing #flashing

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heartofbusan · 3 days

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youtube

Today in 'Missing Bangtan', I revisited the 2020 Festa 'Map of the Song'. It put such a goofy smile on my face that I had to share it.

There is so much content to re-watch during their absence that it's easy to get lost or distracted trying to find that *one* piece of content to hit that nostalgic sweet spot. Look no further. This is it. The karaoke booth of Bangtan songs waiting to be turned into trot versions is so unhinged! It's also sweet and funny and cute and filled with iconic little moments, and not to forget.. seemingly unguarded kukumimi chemistry. To the max pro 3000. Jk hand kiss 👀 Slow dancing, waist holding 👀 Giggles bcs my bf is hyper 👀 personal space, who is she? Without flinching 👀

Somehow, this MOT song concept feels like it showed them during a candid moment, instead of it being 'a performance'. Like thst booth was there and operational in the studio, and they filmed these during the lunch break, members walked in when they felt like it, and ofc the Maknae line squatted the joint like it was their main residence. I suppose that's one of the reasons why RunBTS was always so appealing. It showed the members like they were, just 7 guys taking part in crazy games that are actually just a bonding moment caught on tape. RunBTS, we didn't know how good we had it when you dropped content each week 😩😩😩

Have a great weekend, lovelies 🍉💖

#bts #missing bts hours #i love and miss them #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kookmin #taehyung #rm #min yoongi #j hope #seokjinnie #where is minkookie vlog travel mukbang drinking buddy cop show when you need it #Youtube

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taviokapudding · 1 year

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I am ot7

I promise

I swear

I stream the whole squad, okay? Bangtan Sonyeondan 7orever

But Yoongi’s voice scratches that part of my brain in a way very few male artists can & I-

*bangs fists on desk*

I have missed the original lil meow meow spitting bars in his smirk filled Agust D tone - it always makes my brain go ✨✨✨✨

#mun post #i am a bit drunk right now which is also making the whole MV a fun trip for me #because I am a sucker for gangster vs cop films #and yoongi also being acab in his mvs dude just god bless #but fuck man I love whatever the fuck this concept of agust d vs agust d in the mvs #the song also? nice nice nice- not his best song- but a solid 8 outta 10 for me #i love ear worms but I know how quickly ear worms burn out on me #lyrically a good 9 outta 10 #but Ima be real- it feels like this song is a companion to the rest of his work rather than an overshadowing which I know daechwita did #min yoongi unknowingly owns my ass dudes

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shina913 · 1 year

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I’m waiting for an edit where he goes, “King Kong ain’t got shit on me!” 😅

#let’s get a corrupt cop Yoongi fic going?? 😂

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nako-doodles · 2 years

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Bickering soulmates over food lol

Yoongi complaining about the salt content

Jungkook and Hobi worrying over their Joonie

Jin this is a serious conversation!! 🤦🏼

Thank god for Hobi

a regular family dinner as usual i see 🤣🤣🤣

#jk: an opporjoonist vmin: eggos eating eggos 2seok: good cop bad cop yoongi: resident grandpa joon: using all 148iqs to the max #ans #shirley gets played handseomly

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aft3rhrs · 4 months

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— game over ღ

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: exes to lovers

warnings: yandere, mentions of blood and murder, kidnapping, restraints, corruption, manipulation, obsession, angst, implied imprisonment, dub con, praise, degradation, dirty talk, hints of fear kink, spanking (like once), rough sex, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

The floor creaked quietly under a pair of heavy boots. You kept your eyes on them as he moved towards you, too stubborn to look up, and too frightened not to tremble.

"Oh, sweetheart," Yoongi cooed, crouching down in front of the bed. "I'm so sorry it took so long. Can't have the cops tracing my steps, can I?"

His fingers felt cool as he grasped your chin, and yet they did nothing to soothe the heat blooming through you. He smelled like snow, his cheeks rosy from the unforgiving bite of winter air.

Tilting your head, he kissed your taped mouth with utmost tenderness, like he wanted to leave a love note on the silver.

"Cold?" He murmured, noting the chills that erupted down your arms, his fingertip tracing their journey to your elbow.

In the golden glow of candlelight, with nothing but the pearly tape adorning your body, somehow, you weren't cold. Only uncomfortable, left sitting in the same position for what seemed like hours — knees bound to your chest, wrists tied together — though that was certainly the least of your problems.

"I'll untape your mouth now. Don't scream."

You shut your eyes as he reached upwards. A quick rip followed, the sting making you wince.

"Sorry," Yoongi soothed, stroking your hair, "Sorry, baby."

You didn't scream. It was pointless. He drove a long time to get here, civilization outside the tinted windows dwindling mile after mile. You had no doubt there was nowhere you could go, no one to hear your pleads for help. You'd sooner freeze to death trudging your way through the snow.

The arrogant smile playing on Yoongi's lips was infuriating. He looked like he could devour you, a cat that has finally caught its mouse.

"Good girl," he praised lowly, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

Your stomach flipped.

"Let me go."

It came out as a whisper.

His eyebrows raised, head cocking to the side. Probably not the smartest thing to come out of your mouth, but what else were you supposed to do? Accept your fate as his little pet?

Yoongi released the soft strand, as if he got burned.

"I've been locked up for half a year... And this is how my girl greets me?"

His girl.

Why was he doing this to you? You barely dated for a few months before he chopped up two men who have been bold enough to bother you. Parts of their bodies were still in the process of being found all over the south of Seoul.

Were you going to end up the same?

You swallowed the knot in your throat, willing your heart to stop pounding. No words came, your thoughts too frantic to make sense of.

Yoongi clicked his tongue.

"The usual bratty attitude I can handle. But silent treatment? I can't fucking stand it. Your stupid little friends had enough time to convince you I wasn't good for you, huh?"

"You did that yourself!" you suddenly shouted, eyes brimming with tears. They spilled over, dripping down your collarbone. "You killed people, kidnapped me like some fucking lunatic!"

Yoongi stared at you as you sniffled. Once the dam broke, the fear broke loose too, pouring all over your lungs, making it hard to breathe. Panic started setting in. You had no idea if your outburst was going to be punished, even though in the short time that you knew Yoongi, he had never caused you any harm.

If you ever knew him at all.

He narrowed his eyes. You hated the vulnerable position he forced you into, hated how his gaze felt like a phantom touch.

"I didn't kill any people. I got rid of trash, and I did it all for you. To protect you."

He buried his face in his hands, hiding the shine of his own tears.

"Fuck. Are you actually scared of me right now? I would never hurt you."

What did it matter? Nothing about this love was healthy, and you longed to rip your heart out of your lungs to numb the feeling. You couldn't do this; couldn't let him taint your morals, or at least, couldn't let him see that he started.

All you had to do was convince him, and then yourself.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

"I hate you," you whispered.

Yoongi froze for a moment, then looked back up at you slowly. You stared right back into his eyes through your wet lashes, no longer disturbed by their dark depths. A flash of uncertainty passed through his expression, promptly replaced by a cryptic calmness.

He hummed, shrugging his jacket off.

"Let's play a game, then."

Your stomach jumped when he placed his palm on your shoulder, slowly turning you away from him.

His lips inched towards your ear, hot breath brushing over its shell.

"I don't believe you, not for a fucking second. But I'll entertain you."

You stared at the shelf in front of you, the melted candle wax and golden jewelry laid out beside red roses. The bouquet looked small and miserable after you threw it at him.

You felt just about the same; small. Helpless as he hovered behind you, his intentions unclear, your fate even more so. Your pulse quickened as seconds ticked by.

A loud gasp escaped you as he pushed you forward. Your head spun from the suddenness of the action, cheeks instantly burning and knees trembling.

You fell face first into the silk sheets, ass up, like a little doll for him to use. He had to hold on to your hip so you didn't tumble. You've never felt so powerless before, so stripped of your dignity, or so hot when you heard him unbuckle his belt.

The adrenaline rush intensified your emotions, made your throat close up. Only a whimper passed through your panicked breathing.

"Look at that," Yoongi murmured. "You're dripping already."

You flinched as you felt his finger run down your folds, clenching needily. Everything was happening too fast—

"I missed you too."

No preparation, no warning; one moment you were empty, and the next you were full.

He groaned, leaning over you, dropping his forehead onto your back, and his hand in between your thighs.

The stretch hurt. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, hard and thick as you pulsed around it.

No mercy, no patience; he started fucking into you, choked groans and wet smacks filling up the room. His fingers quickly parted your slick folds, rubbing into the little nub between them to ease the pain.

It worked — it bloomed into a searing pleasure that made your tummy and your vocal cords quiver, soft, helpless whines fleeing your lips.

"Fuck," he cursed, his voice broken, "fuck, you were made for me."

You shivered, finding yourself unable to fight against the restraints he put on you. Nevermind the tape; it was your soul that was truly imprisoned, and that made everything ten times worse.

His lips touched your ear again.

"If you don't come," he whispered, panting softly, "I'll let you go. But if you do, you will stay with me forever, do you get that, baby?"

Was this the game?

Fear clutched your heart in its iron fist, mingled with your most private, forbidden desires and desperate needs, made your eyes and your pussy wetter.

He reveled in it all.

"Go on," he taunted, "show me how much you hate me."

You did hate him.

Because nothing else made you feel like this, no matter what your friends said, no matter what seemed right or wrong. The blood on his hands dripped like an offering, all for you, a threat and a promise that predators loved, too, that they'd kill to protect their own. There was no life for him without you.

You urged yourself to hold on, to not give into your weaknesses. But it was hard when you were already tightening around him, on the brink of delirium and craving more.

"Yeah, there she is," Yoongi breathed. "My dirty little slut. My good fucking girl."

You cried out, your entire body tensing up. His cock throbbed inside you, rutting into you faster.

"Almost there? Are you gonna gonna let me keep you, baby? Chain you the fuck up like a good bitch?"

He was so close, playing dirty just to tip you over the edge, just to prove that you belonged to him. Hands curling into fists, you made an effort to focus, whining out a "no" that sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

"Yeah," Yoongi moaned. "Filthy fucking liar."

His fingers dug deeper into your hips, the hard grip marking your skin, planting the memory of this moment beneath it. Bruises would blossom tomorrow, and he wished he could see them all over you, a violet garden that grew from his love. Yet all he could do was slam into you faster, abuse that little spot inside you that his cock reached with way too much ease.

"Stop fighting it," he grunted, landing a sudden slap on your ass. "You're mine."

The harsh sting, the cursed words, the heat — it was all too much. The tension stirred and coiled in your abdomen, making black dots dance around your vision. Your cunt squeezed his cock desperately, barely allowing him to continue fucking you.

As if you were under water, everything became blurred, and soaked, with tears, with sweat and the orgasm rushing through you, encouraged by his filthy groans. So wet you didn't even realize he was coming too, until he stilled entirely, spilling inside you as you limped.

You listened to his breathing slow, your body thrumming, head pulsing with blissful nothingness. Too high and too weak to do anything but breathe with him.

A kiss was pressed into your spine.

"Mm... Should I give you one more chance?"

At that, you seemed to come back to your senses, breath hitching and eyes open wide.

Yoongi smirked, running his fingers along the tape softly.

"Let me grab a knife, pretty. I'll get you nice and comfy."

You almost flinched when he leaned over you again, his cock jerking and hardening in your sensitive hole.

"You did so well," he whispered into your ear. "Such a good, little bitch. I'm so in love with you."

A weak shudder went through you, ending with an ache right in between your legs.

Yoongi nuzzled your neck.

"Yeah, there you go. Don't you worry. We have all night to play."

Was it fair to play games one was destined to lose? Probably not, but unfortunately for you, that made it all more exciting to Yoongi. He wanted you to see yourself fail over and over, realize there was no running from your love.

It seemed you were about to.

He slipped out of you gently, biting his lip and watching his cum dribble out of you. His hand slid down to your ass, giving it a few, tender pats.

"Sit tight, sweetheart."

With that, he left you on his bed, again, ruined and aching and beyond lost. You heard him rummage through his drawers somewhere in the cabin, heard your heart beating in your own skull.

For some reason, you had a feeling this was just the beginning of a whole eternity. Hit play. Lose. Repeat. Try another level. Until your bones turned to dust and you were wrapped up in each other six feet under the ground. There was a sadistic side to Yoongi that seemed to enjoy the process, the struggle, the conquering of your mind.

Not surprising in the slightest; all dangerous creatures liked to play with their prey. Even more so when they loved it... And Yoongi would never stop loving you.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @bnagtanx1306 @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @shyygrl

#again sorry to the person I couldn't tag ❤️#yandere bts #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #yoongi smut

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hamsterclaw · 1 month

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Yoongi’s a murder detective fighting burnout when he’s assigned the case that you and your former partner fucked up.

Paring: Yoongi x f! Reader

Genre: Detectives!Yoongi and reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of murder, bloodshed and assault, sex, depression and burnout, mentions of guns

The flashing blue lights in Yoongi’s window are followed by the wail of sirens cutting through the early evening bustle.

Yoongi looks out the window. He’s three floors up from street level, there’s raindrops tracking along the dirty glass, the faint smell of mildew that accompanies any rainfall in this filthy city.

Under the table, his good leather shoes, the ones he saves for weddings and funerals, have rubbed a hole in the skin over his achilles. Yoongi had worn them for his disciplinary hearing today, the part of him that still wants to be a cop temporarily winning over the part of him that doesn’t.

He wonders if this is what burnout feels like.

His superior, Kim Namjoon, had called him into his office after the hearing to tell him he was on probation, to clean up his act because he wouldn’t be so lucky as to get off next time.

The truth is, Yoongi had known while he was pressing the suspect’s face into gravel with his booted foot that it would come back to bite him on the ass.

He’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s never been kind to scum who exploit children, but his partner, Jung Hoseok, had seen something in Yoongi’s face that day that had made him report Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t blame him. Hoseok has been his partner on and off for five years and he’s as sterling as they come. His moral compass is as strong as it was the day they graduated from the academy, despite all the fucked up shit they’ve seen.

Unlike Yoongi.

Yoongi was never black and white to begin with and now he’s so far into the grey he scares himself sometimes. It’s never been his goal to be the kind of cop who metes out his own justice.

Only madness lies that way.

Anyway now Hoseok’s been reassigned temporarily to narcotics, supposedly a break from homicide, and Yoongi’s partnerless.

Probably not for long, there’s always some hungry rookie wanting the credibility of working homicide.

Yoongi sighs, closes the file he’d been skimming. It’s well past seven, there aren’t any open cases that need his immediate attention and he figures he might as well go home to his apartment and his cat, Kenzo.

The pavement’s slippery under the smooth soles of his good shoes, Yoongi pulls his coat tighter against the early autumn chill as he walks the five blocks to his apartment.

The smell of fried wontons fills his nostrils as he passes a conduit street in the back end of Little China, Yoongi’s tempted to stop and pick up dinner.

He’s tempted every time and succumbed yesterday so he soldiers on, not without a pang of regret. He regrets food choices because he’d rather that, than think about his actual regrets.

The bang of a gunshot when he’d been two minutes too late to what then became a crime scene.

Fucking some girl with a cute face because he hadn’t been man enough to treat Mara the way she deserved.

Choosing to stay in homicide even after it had become clear to him that he had plumbed the depths of human depravity. Scarring his psyche repeatedly because it’s easier than making the active choice to request a transfer.

Yoongi unlocks his door, toes his shoes off, hangs up his coat.

There’s a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a flash of grey fur as Kenzo skitters across the entryway, close but not touching him.

It’s the kind of greeting Yoongi can get behind.

He pours out a serving of dry food into Kenzo’s dish, heads to the fridge to reheat yesterday’s wontons.

Eats standing at the tiny kitchen island, cracks open a beer to wash it all down.

He catches sight of his face, pinched in the scowl it seems to fall into more often than not these days.

Jesus, is he getting old?

Yoongi avoids looking at his reflection again as he showers. Changes into the same t-shirt he’s been wearing for weeks, contemplates watching porn just to take the edge off, but decides he can’t be bothered.

He falls into sleep, deep and dreamless, wakes up with an almighty crick in his neck just before dawn from the way he’d been huddled in a tight ball under the covers.

He knows he’s not right, but he’s been not right for so long Yoongi wouldn’t even know where to start putting himself together again.

***

Redemption comes in odd packages, Yoongi thinks, as he looks up a case he worked on six months ago, a shady businessman on the fringe of organised crime who’d got high as a kite and beat a sex worker to death.

He’d been killed on the way to serving out his sentence in the cushy prison in Busan his fancy lawyer had managed to negotiate, crushed in the back of the transport vehicle when it had been t-boned by a lorry.

Apparently a freak accident, Yoongi doubts it but he’s also not going to look too closely, it’s out of his jurisdiction and he’s too jaded to mourn the loss of another brutal asshole. They’d had to identify the sex worker by her dental records and DNA, her face had been unrecognisable.

There’s a knock on the frosted glass panel on his office door, Yoongi looks up as Kim Namjoon walks in, followed by the latest hungry rookie angling for a stint in homicide.

‘Min Yoongi, this is Y/N L/N,’ Namjoon says. ‘She’s a new transfer in from the Seoul branch.’

Yoongi doesn’t have to fake his disinterest as he nods politely at you.

‘What’s the case?’ he asks.

Namjoon looks pointedly at the crime scene photo blown up on Yoongi’s screen.

Yoongi waits.

He can feel your gaze on him, but he’ll get to that later.

The anticipation of a new case never gets old, he’s been in homicide since he graduated off the beat ten years ago and he no longer thinks it’s sick of him to get excited about another murder.

It’s the thrill of the hunt that he lives for, the translation of nebulous facts and witness statements into a puzzle that he can solve.

Yoongi’s damn good at his job. It almost makes the sacrifices in the rest of his so-called life worth it.

Namjoon hands Yoongi a case file, crisp, sharp edges waiting to razor his fingertips open. Flat.

Inside, the standard cover page, then a note that makes Yoongi sit up straight out of his slouch.

He looks at Namjoon to find Namjoon’s already looking at him.

‘The reaper of Seoul?’

Yoongi realises as he says the words out loud how it sounds.

The capture and subsequent conviction of the serial killer who’d terrorised the citizens of Seoul for three years had made headlines nationwide.

Last year.

‘Yeah,’ Namjoon says, the tension in his jaw evident now that Yoongi’s looking at him properly.

Namjoon glances at you. ‘It would seem he never left.’

You shift your weight and your eyes meet Yoongi’s.

‘My partner and I broke the case,’ you say. There’s a brittle smoothness to your voice that Yoongi recognises as a paper thin facade over the hauntedness underneath. ‘Turns out we didn’t.’

***

The note in the case file is a single sheet of letter paper, lined in blue.

The handwriting is precise, neat between the lines.

Oh dear.

Better luck this time?

Best regards from your neighbourhood Reaper.

Yoongi looks at you, sitting across the room at the desk Hoseok’s temporarily vacated.

You’re staring at your screen, face backlit in blue, expression unreadable. You’re in black, nondescript knitwear, your hair pushed back from your face, eyes narrowed.

He clears his throat. ‘You worked the case with your partner.’

It’s a statement you answer to like a question.

‘It was the first case I picked up when I joined homicide,’ you say, turning to Yoongi. ‘It started with -‘

‘Kim Seulgi,’ Yoongi says.

You nod, almost grimacing at the name of the Seoul Reaper’s first high profile victim.

‘Her family wanted answers.’

Kim Seulgi had been born of Seoul’s elite, an architect with her grandfather’s firm who had picked up a number of accolades for her work on the National Opera House.

She’d been engaged to an equally accomplished classical pianist, Jeong Minho, and had been the only offspring of her wealthy parents.

She’d disappeared three days before her wedding, only to turn up on her wedding day, floating in the Hangang, dressed in the clothes she’d disappeared in.

You say, ‘She was an ambitious first target.’

‘Was she the first?’ Yoongi asks.

The flicker in your eyes tells him this isn’t the first time you’ve considered this.

‘My partner Kiho.’ There’s strain in your voice. You start again. ‘My partner, Kiho, and I thought he’d killed before.’

You shrug. ‘The captain felt we were wasting time looking back into his early years.’

Yoongi says, neutral, ‘Budgets are limited, your case must have passed the thresholds for plausible deniability.’

‘It seemed to fit,’ you agree.

Your eyes meet again. ‘Not all of it, though.’

Yoongi knows, intimately, what it’s like to not be certain. Sometimes all you have is your instinct. It’s one thing to build a case no reasonable person would doubt, but you’re also betting on your gut. You’re betting on being a good enough detective to know that the pieces fit, without forcing them to fit.

You’re betting on being honest with yourself, and Yoongi knows more than anyone how tempting the lies can be.

Now you’re the one watching him, taking the measure of him.

His email pings.

‘That’s the link to the full case file,’ you say.

You get up, carry a stack of notebooks to his desk.

‘Our notebooks,’ you say.

Yoongi looks at the stack.

Every cop’s got their own collection of notebooks, raw data and impressions that don’t always make it into official reports.

The equivalent of dirty underwear when you’re not expecting company versus lingerie when you’re down to fuck.

This close, he can smell your shampoo, bright and faintly floral.

You blink at him.

‘I need to sort something with human resources,’ you say. ‘I’ll see you later.’

In actual fact it’s 36 hours later when he next sees you, at 4am, at a crime scene.

***

The rain falling is more than a drizzle, enough that the tent around the victim is the first priority.

There’s an imprint of violence in the air, Yoongi knows you feel it too by the way your lips tighten as you duck under the yellow tape to join him.

You nod at him in greeting, then there’s silence as you enter the tent.

The victim’s on her front, face turned to the right, hand tucked under her cheek.

She hasn’t been dead long enough for livedo to set in, she would almost look asleep if it weren’t for the purple of her lips, the greyness to her complexion.

The bath of blood she’s lying in.

Yoongi can just see the edge of the gaping wound on her neck.

You wait until forensics turns her body over.

The top three buttons of her silk blouse are undone, her chest slick with blood.

Yoongi’s reading the crime scene like he’s reading you, and he knows what you’re going to say before you say it.

‘It’s him,’ you breathe. The devastation in your eyes makes it difficult for him to look at you. ‘Fuck, it’s him.’

***

You’re shivering visibly despite the hot coffee Yoongi’s poured you, despite the fact that he’s turned the heating in his ancient Hyundai up as far as it’ll go.

There are droplets of water in your hair, sparkling incongruously in the gloom.

You’re waiting till first light to knock on neighbourhood doors, the victim was found in a quiet cul-de-sac.

Two minutes from her own front door.

Not much chills Yoongi these days but that fact does make him pause.

The audacity of it.

He says, ‘I have a blanket in the trunk.’

You’re protesting but Yoongi gets back out in the rain anyway, grabs the blanket and gets back in.

Hands it to you, takes your cup as you drape the blanket around yourself.

‘It gets colder here than Seoul,’ Yoongi offers, handing you your coffee back.

‘We fucked it up,’ you say, and Yoongi knows that’s what you’ve been thinking since you saw the body.

He’s just been waiting for you to be ready to say it.

‘So make it right,’ he says, simple.

‘An innocent man’s in prison because Kiho and I fucked up,’ you say.

Yoongi doesn’t want to minimise it but he doubts the man you put away was completely innocent.

‘I read your notebooks,’ he says. ‘Who’s Jeon Bogyeol?’

There had been twelve murders before the arrest. All women in their late twenties to mid thirties, all living alone.

They’d all lived in the same part of Seoul, but apart from that there was nothing to link them that he could find.

You look at him warily. ‘He was a night watchman at the apartments of seven of the women.’

Yoongi waits.

‘We cross-referenced staff at all the addresses, and his name kept coming up. Like Jang Daeseong.’

You flinch at the name of the man convicted of the murders, as though it didn’t fall from your own lips.

You keep talking, though, your voice never faltering. ‘We never found any links between Jeon Bogyeol and the other five women.’

‘Did he have a history?’ Yoongi asks. He’s looking out the window at the first rays of sunrise, muted orange through the rain. His shoulder aches, an old injury he doesn’t think about except when he’s tired, and cold.

‘There was a neighbour,’ you say. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, a tell Yoongi’s noticed for the first time tonight.

‘She called the police once saying she’d seen Bogyeol taking a woman into his apartment against her will.’

You’re frowning. ‘The beat cops who responded to the call out said there was no sign of anyone else in his apartment. The neighbour moved away.’

‘Moved away?’ Yoongi asks, and you glance at him, understanding the sharpness in his tone.

‘I was going to look into it when the Chief shut us down,’ you say. It’s stated simply, like a fact, no sign of defensiveness.

Yoongi offers you more coffee from his flask.

‘Where’s Bogyeol now?’

‘When the new letter came in I looked him up,’ you say. The steam rising from your cup obscures part of your expression for a moment, but Yoongi can hear the tremor in your voice.

‘He’s less than fifty miles east of here.’

Dawn’s breaking, the rain’s finally starting to peter out, but Yoongi’s chilled anyway.

***

The morning sun is high in the sky by the time Yoongi and you finish interviewing the neighbours and the new victim’s friends and family.

Yoongi’s phone rings. It’s Namjoon.

‘Can you talk?’ Namjoon asks.

Yoongi mouths ‘Namjoon’ in response to your inquiring expression, puts some distance between you and him.

‘Yeah,’ he answers.

‘The post-mortem results are back, and the preliminary tox screen is negative. The ME’s put the cause of death as exsanguination.’

Yoongi processes this. ‘It’s the same MO as the previous Seoul reaper victims,’ he says.

Namjoon sighs. ‘Has anything new come out of your interviews?’

‘No,’ Yoongi says. The victim had been well-liked, none of the neighbours had seen or heard anything, and on the surface of it there were no conflicts he could see. Her boyfriend of two years had been away on a work trip, his location confirmed around the window of the crime.

Yoongi’s looking at you as you wait against the car, and when your name comes out of Namjoon’s mouth he’s already got an inkling of what Namjoon wants to know.

‘I reviewed the case,’ Namjoon says. ‘There are no obvious flaws or errors in their investigation.’

Yoongi grunts. ‘There was a lead that they didn’t follow up on.’

He fills Namjoon in.

‘I’ll follow it up.’

Namjoon says, thoughtfully, ‘I wonder where her partner’s working now.’

Yoongi’s surprised Namjoon doesn’t already know, to be honest, he’s always two steps ahead of Yoongi.

He flicks his gaze to you again. You’re still waiting against the car, and there’s a loneliness to your posture, a fatigued downturn to your mouth that makes him say, ‘Hey Joon, I’ll call you back, ok?’

He ends the call, unlocks the car.

‘We should get back and compare notes,’ Yoongi says. His voice has dropped the way it does when he’s tired, and shit, he is tired. He hasn’t slept well for a while.

‘Let me drive,’ you offer. You take his keys, and your fingers brush his for an instant.

The contact, brief though it is, makes Yoongi’s skin tingle.

He wonders if you notice his reaction, but you’re already sliding in, adjusting the seat, starting up the car.

***

Yoongi wakes when you’re parking the car, sits up, a little embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, looking to gauge your reaction.

‘Don’t be,’ you reply. ‘I would have done the same if you’d driven.’

There’s a hint of mischief in the curve of your half-smile.

‘You mumble in your sleep.’

Yoongi rubs a hand over his face. ‘What’d I say?’

‘I couldn’t make out any words,’ you tell him, but there’s a twinkle in your eye that makes him wonder if that’s really true.

Mara is the only person who’s shared his bed in recent years, and she’d never mentioned anything.

You swipe your ID to get into the station, hit the lifts.

In the dire grey lighting you look almost as tired as he does.

‘Coffee?’ Yoongi offers, when you pass the vending machine on the way to the office.

‘Yeah,’ you say. You’re on your phone, frowning over a text.

Yoongi passes you a cup.

‘Problem?’ he asks.

‘Kiho,’ you say. You look at him. ‘My old partner. He wants to meet up.’

‘It’d be useful to talk through the case with him,’ Yoongi agrees.

Your expression is difficult to read. ‘He’s in a retreat a couple hours drive from here. He took time off after we closed the case.’

Yoongi gulps his coffee. ‘There isn’t anything else we can do here anyway, we’re waiting on leads.’

He reaches out his hand for the car keys. ‘I can drive.’

***

The retreat Kiho is staying in is set amongst the foothills of a mountain, rolling grounds all around, a view of the cliffs overlooking the sea.

It seems to Yoongi like a place only the very rich or the very damaged would live.

Unless you get better pay packets in Seoul he’s apprehensive about meeting Kiho.

You sign in at the front desk, the receptionist greets you warmly, like she’s met you a few times before.

You lead Yoongi through a huge lounge, through open patio doors and into a green. Yoongi’s looking around at the residents, scanning the area the way he does automatically whenever he’s in an unfamiliar place.

You’re waving a hand, and then you’re embracing a tall man tightly. Neither of you say anything but Yoongi can see the way your shoulders slump, like the tension’s draining out of you.

It’s only when the tall man looks up at Yoongi inquiringly that Yoongi notices the long scar running along his neck. Tracing the path of his jugular, vertical rather than horizontal.

Kiho extends a hand.

‘So you’re going to get our guy,’ he says.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that.

‘We’re going to get him,’ he says, finally.

Kiho turns to you. ‘You haven’t told him,’ he says to you.

You’re looking at Yoongi.

‘We can tell him now.’

***

‘I started getting notes after Jang Daeseong was convicted,’ you say. You’re sitting in a gazebo with Yoongi and Kiho, mugs of coffee in front of you.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

You flick your eyes to his, then look away, unlock your phone.

Yoongi takes your phone, scrolls through a gallery of pictures.

Lined paper, handwriting he’s seen before.

Yoongi reads through the content, then returns your phone to you.

‘The originals are with forensics,’ you tell him. ‘The paper and ink are generic, impossible to trace. There’s no trace of DNA, not so much as a partial print.’

‘The notes stopped coming last month,’ you say. ‘Right around the time I moved.’

Kiho’s scratching his neck absently, Yoongi catches how your gaze drops to his scar.

The length of it’s longer than a stab wound, he thinks the surgeons might have had to extend the scar to repair the vessels beneath.

You turn to Yoongi.

‘We have to stop him,’ you say. ‘Use me to lure him out.’

‘He nearly killed me,’ Kiho says. His expression is sober, his tone flat.

He stops there, but Yoongi can hear his next words, loud and clear.

What’s he going to do to you?

‘We can’t let him keep going like this,’ you say, very gently.

Kiho meets Yoongi’s gaze.

Yoongi doesn’t falter.

‘He has to be stopped,’ he agrees.

***

The drive back to the police station goes quicker - there’s something about seeing your old partner that’s given you a bump of energy.

Yoongi can practically feel the adrenaline fizzing in your blood, coming off you in waves.

He’s worried about the crash when the adrenaline ebbs.

He sure as fuck hopes you can cope with the lows better than he can.

He’d put in a call before you left the retreat, Namjoon’s fast tracking a last known address on the neighbour of Jeon Bogyeol who’d moved away.

You’re typing an address into the satnav yourself, face drawn, eyes serious.

Yoongi doesn’t have to ask whose address it is.

‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ he asks.

His voice is as neutral as he can make it but he already knows that you’ve made your decision.

It’s written all over you, in the way your shoulders are squared, in the tilt of your chin, in the way your hands are tensed into fists in your lap.

‘I need to see this through, Yoongi,’ you say.

Yoongi takes a moment.

‘What happened to Kiho?’ he asks.

‘He didn’t see who it was,’ you answer. Your eyes are fixed in front of you, jaw tensed.

‘He was heading home in between shifts and he got jumped in the car park under his apartment. If he hadn’t been found by the car park attendant —‘ you voice trails off, and you shiver.

‘He was lucky the car park attendant called for help right away. That his next door neighbour, fresh off a shift in the trauma department, arrived home when she did and was there to take over. That he lives five minutes on blue lights away from the best trauma centre in Seoul.’

You look at Yoongi. ‘Kiho’s damned lucky to be alive.’

‘It’s a different injury from the reaper’s usual MO,’ Yoongi says slowly.

You nod. ‘He was toying with us.’

‘You said you received notes from the Reaper,’ Yoongi says. He’s watching you carefully in the rearview. ‘What did they say?’

Your lips press together in a line, but your voice is steady when you answer.

‘He said he’d been watching me, and that he was coming for me. That I’d be his final kill.’

***

The address you’ve put in for Jeon Bogyeol is a house in a run down suburban neighbourhood, the type of place Yoongi grew up.

The houses are haphazardly arranged, like a careless scatter on a Monopoly board, connected by a warren of roads too narrow for more than one car to pass.

Yoongi can see you tensing up the closer you get to your destination, and after he parks and switches off the engine, he places his hand on your arm.

Your eyes are expressive, more so than your voice.

‘We haven’t got grounds yet for an arrest warrant,’ you say, flat.

‘We’re working the case,’ Yoongi replies. ‘And if it’s right, we’ll work it until it’s airtight.’

Your response is to stare at him a moment, then to push open the car door.

Yoongi notices that you’ve unzipped your jacket, making your holstered gun more visible.

His own gun presses against his hip, the weight of it reminding him that although he’s only drawn it a handful of times, each time has been with intent.

He sure as fuck hopes neither of you will have reason to draw your gun today.

***

The address is little more than a shack, a rickety door that looks like it’ll give under a strong kick, a boarded up window that’s visibly cracked.

Yoongi knocks, identifies you both.

Follows procedure because he’s determined to get it all right this time.

Get the monster locked up where he belongs.

You don’t have grounds to break down the door, at least not until you go round to the back and see the pink tricycle upended in the dirt, streamers splayed tendrils of pink and white.

There isn’t much that sends Yoongi into the grey as much as the suggestion that a child might be involved.

He doesn’t really recall looking at you to confirm, just knows that one minute he’s outside in the chill and the next he’s inside the shack, gun drawn, the metallic tang of blood in the back of his throat.

There’s nowhere to hide in the empty shack, Jeon Bogyeol is gone.

You do a cursory search but both of you know you aren’t going to find your answers here.

Then Yoongi must blank out, because the next thing he hears is your voice, firm, saying his name.

He’s panting, covered in sweat, back against a wall, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his jacket to keep him upright.

He blinks, and you snap into focus. There’s ringing in his ears.

Your mouth opens, and the ringing stops. He hears your voice.

‘Let’s go, Yoongi.’

He lets you lead him out, folds himself into the passenger seat of your car, notes distantly how you put your hand on the top of the doorframe like you’re worried he’s going to bang his head.

You start the engine and then you drive, and Yoongi’s grateful that you don’t say anything at all, don’t ask for an explanation of why a fucking tricycle sent him into a tailspin.

Yoongi looks down in his lap because he’s not ready to see if you’re looking at him differently now that you’ve seen him wig out.

You put the radio on after a few minutes, stop at a drive thru after an hour.

It’s only when you hand him a coffee, silently, that he’s moved to speak.

He clears his throat, and you’re the one who speaks, still looking straight ahead, out the windscreen.

‘You don’t have to tell me. I mean, I’ll listen if you do, but you don’t have to.’

Yoongi chews on that a moment.

‘Three years ago I worked what we thought was a murder in Busan. It turned out to be an abduction.’

Yoongi laughs. There’s no humour in it.

‘We found her. She was still warm. If we’d been ten minutes quicker at figuring it out, if her fucking dad had told us about the business deal he had that had gone sour sooner, if I’d even just tried harder…’

His voice trails off.

He risks a glance at you.

You’re still not looking at him.

‘I can’t speak to whether you could have prevented it, Yoongi. All I know is that none of us come to work to do a bad job.’

Your hand lands on his forearm briefly.

‘Some days are just bad days at the office.’

It’s not the first time Yoongi’s heard it, but it’s the first time it’s been said to him with no judgement that he can hear.

***

When you get back to the precinct, Namjoon’s waiting.

He hands Yoongi another case file.

‘I got Jimin to follow up on those leads we talked about,’ Namjoon says, no preamble.

‘We visited Jeon Bogyeol’s last known address,’ you say. ‘There’s no one there now, but it hasn’t been long since he moved out.’

Namjoon says, ‘Keep me informed.’

He nods to the case file. ‘There’s some interesting information in there.’

As Namjoon walks off, you turn to Yoongi.

‘I’m going down to visit someone I know in forensics, see if they can check the house.’

Yoongi heads for your joint office.

There’s a cleaning cart parked just outside the door, which opens just as Yoongi reaches for the doorknob.

The cleaner apologises and bows politely.

Yoongi steps aside to let her pass.

‘You forgot this,’ he says, spotting the dusting cloth left on your desk.

He hands it to her and places the file on his desk.

Outside, it’s raining again.

***

Yoongi wakes with a jolt.

You’re perched on the edge of his desk.

‘You should go home, get some sleep.’

‘In the middle of an active murder investigation?’ Yoongi mumbles.

‘I’m one of the potential targets, remember?’ you say, grimacing. ‘He might come to us.’

At Yoongi’s expression, you say, ‘We’ve been doing nothing but following up leads since the last murder. The last investigation took months, almost a year. What are you going to do, not sleep until he’s caught?’

‘I don’t sleep much anyway,’ Yoongi says, but he knows you’re right.

‘I know you don’t,’ you reply. There’s an empathy in your tone that reminds him you’re a homicide detective too.

You exchange a look, and then you both speak at the same time.

‘I should go —‘

‘Do you like wontons?’ Yoongi blurts out.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Is this like inviting me in for ramen?’

‘What?’ Yoongi splutters. ‘No, not like that. There’s this place I go. They have—-‘

‘Wontons, I get it,’ you say. You get up. ‘Yeah. Let’s go.’

***

It’s been a while since Yoongi shared a meal with someone else, the last person was Hoseok, who could go straight from a crime scene to a steakhouse without turning a hair.

You’re chasing a wonton around your plate, fatigue lining the corners of your mouth.

Yoongi asks, ‘Where do you live?’

‘The other side of town,’ you tell him. ‘Near the financial district.’

‘Fancy,’ Yoongi muses.

‘More than I can afford,’ you say darkly. ‘If this case goes on for a while I’m going to need to move.’

You look up at him. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Close to here,’ Yoongi says.

‘Yeah?’

You put your chopsticks down. ‘I should —-‘

This time, Yoongi interrupts.

‘Do you want to come round for ramen?’

Your eyes meet, and there’s a beat of silence. Then a pulse of connection that sends heat through Yoongi’s veins.

Your knee brushes his under the table.

‘Yeah,’ you answer, deliberate. ‘Fuck, yeah.’

***

Yoongi’s always hated the preamble to a hookup, in his line of work uncertainty is a thing to be avoided.

You work the case until you get an explanation no reasonable person would doubt.

He finds himself waiting, though, now that you’re standing in his apartment.

You’re looking around, and he wonders if his existence seems as lonely on the outside as it feels on the inside.

He’s wondering if you’ve changed your mind, if you really did think he meant ramen, when you reach out and grasp the front of his shirt.

Slip the tips of your fingers just under, hold the placket as you use your other hand to unbutton. Start at his throat, work your way down, slowly.

His skin prickles under the warmth of your fingers.

You lean forward and press a kiss to the base of his neck.

Yoongi reaches up, slides a hand around the nape of your neck, and you tilt your face to his.

Close up, you’re soft.

Yoongi traces your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part.

You don’t say anything, though, and that’s ok, because Yoongi thinks you’re as talked out as he is.

It’s been a hell of a fucking day.

You’re kissing his neck again, instead of his mouth, and that’s ok, because this isn’t love, it’s comfort.

A human connection in a day filled with monsters.

Yoongi sighs as your hands slip over his bare chest, round to his back.

He helps you lift your top over your head, admires your breasts, nipples pressing against the fabric of your bra.

He cups the weight of them in his hands, and you moan.

Yoongi’s cock is filling out, and you’re undoing his belt like you want to see for yourself.

You drop to your knees in front of him, press your mouth onto the length of him over his boxer briefs, sigh with pleasure.

‘Not too much,’ Yoongi warns, ‘not if you want me to fuck you.’

You look up at him, hair mussed, a smile curving your lips.

You tug his boxer briefs down, and Yoongi curls a hand around himself so as not to hit you in the face.

‘Just let me —‘

You open your mouth to take him in, and Yoongi groans at the feel of your warmth.

When did he last —

His crown nudges the back of your throat, and you swallow, and he loses his train of thought.

He grabs your shoulder, tugs you up, kisses the smear of his own stickiness at the corner of your mouth.

The light slanting in through the window is hues of gold and orange, filling in the hollows of your face, outlining the curves of your body.

Yoongi has to stop looking at you because he doesn’t want to cry at how much he’s missed being close to someone like this.

‘Where do you want me?’ he asks, voice taut.

‘Anywhere,’ you say. ‘Just turn these fucking lights out.’

***

In the dark, Yoongi’s most enraptured by the warmth of you.

Your skin is smooth, so soft under his hands as he wraps his fingers around the curve of your hips.

His cock glides in and out of the heat between your legs, and your moans are beautiful but what really gets him are the hitches in your breathing as he moves.

He turns you over, onto your back, and you pull him to you. Your mouth opens on his shoulder in what would be a kiss if you weren’t biting down. Your tongue flicks over his bruised skin, an apology.

You haven’t spoken to each other in words in a while but Yoongi doesn’t think either of you need words right now.

At least he doesn’t.

You’re tightening around his cock now, your cries quickening until you gasp his name in a tone that makes him grunt and his hips jerk, taking him deep as he can go.

Even in his pleasure he makes sure not to crush you as he collapses next to you.

Then you’re up, walking over to the window, pulling up the sash, lighting a cigarette without asking if he’s ok with it.

Yoongi admires the outline of your profile against the glass.

‘I needed that,’ you say, taking a drag, hunching a little to blow smoke out of his window.

‘Me too,’ Yoongi says, honestly.

He ties off the condom, gets up to toss it in the trash on top of yesterday’s takeout.

Pours you a glass of water on his way back to bed.

He half expects you to be dressed, and you are, but in his clothes, not your own, an old t-shirt he’d tossed on the chair by the bed yesterday morning before he left for work.

He can’t see your face clearly in the dark. It makes it easy to find his voice.

‘You should stay,’ he says. ‘We can get coffee in the morning.’

You’re quiet. ‘I want to.’

Yoongi climbs into bed, and after a moment you slide in next to him.

Your bodies aren’t touching at all, but somehow having you there with him is enough.

Yoongi means to check on you, but he’s asleep so quickly he doesn’t get a chance to.

***

There’s a basketball hoop set into the wall in the back end of the station, a concrete square with a chain-link fence.

The building opposite is a block of offices, as is the building next to it.

Yoongi makes the shot, and you grab the ball on its first bounce.

You say, ‘Forensics got nothing from Jeon Bogyeol’s shack. He bleached the shit out of the place before he left.’

Yoongi grunts, watches you point and shoot.

He’d read through the file Namjoon gave him on the neighbour - it’s incomplete but she was last seen alive twelve weeks ago in a coastal town.

There’s something niggling at the back of his brain, he’d suggested shooting hoops in the hopes that the activity might shake the thought loose so his conscious mind can make the connection.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

Namjoon.

‘I’m going up to see Namjoon,’ he says. ‘You coming?’

‘I’ll stay here for a bit,’ you say. ‘I’ll be up in a sec.’

Yoongi shrugs, lets himself back in.

Takes the stairs up to Namjoon’s office on the third floor.

There’s a cleaning cart parked next to the staff kitchen as he rounds the corner.

Yoongi’s about to knock on Namjoon’s door when his scattered thoughts crystallise.

The case file Namjoon had given him had a grainy photo of Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour, the one who’d reported him and then disappeared.

He’s seen her face before, and recently.

Coming out of your office.

‘Fuck,’ he swears.

He grabs his phone out of his pocket, dials your number.

Your phone rings, and rings.

Yoongi takes off, down the stairs, back the way he came.

By the time he bursts out of the back door of the station, gun drawn, his heart’s thumping triple speed, but his hand is steady as he aims it at the man with a knife standing over you.

His finger goes from trigger guard to trigger.

‘Fucking drop it,’ Yoongi warns.

He doesn’t, so Yoongi shoots.

***

Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour who had reported him was called Seo Hyerin.

She was in her early forties, an ex-teacher who he’d coerced into helping him by turning up at her new place even after she’d moved to get away from him.

She’d been too scared to disobey him, but in forcing her to help him, Jeon Bogyeol had given her access to enough information to clinch the case against him.

Once she’d found out he’d been shot and was likely to go straight from hospital to prison, she’d shared all that information with Yoongi and you.

The pieces fell into place so easily there was no need to make any of it fit.

And now Yoongi’s sitting in the kitchen of your apartment, watching as you pack things up.

He’d been right. Your place was fancy.

You were being transferred back to Seoul to finish up, see things through with the case.

He realises you’re looking at him.

‘My new place is a couple hours drive from here,’ you say.

‘Yeah?’ Yoongi says, like he hadn’t already looked it up.

He’d also looked up timed automated cat food dispensers, just because it was one thing to have a neighbour drop in and feed Kenzo if he’s stuck with a case occasionally, but it’s another thing if he’s regularly going to be driving down to see you.

If he’s regularly going to be spending the night away.

It’s uncharacteristic, for him, but he’s hopeful.

‘I slept pretty well that time,’ you say, looking down into your box.

You look up at him, and the curve of your lips makes Yoongi think to himself that he’d like to kiss you, sometime.

‘In your apartment,’ you clarify, like he wouldn’t already know.

‘I make good ramen,’ Yoongi says. ‘I can make it again for you, you know.’

You laugh, and the sound makes Yoongi feel warm.

He realises that he’s smiling.

Fuck, it’s been a while.

#bts fanfiction #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi smut

527 notes · View notes

borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 20 - Gunplay]

Pairing: Gangster!Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, arranged marriage, gunplay, oral to a gun, big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, tattoos & piercings, thigh riding, spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f. & m.receiving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, rough & passionate sex in front a window, she rides him, the trope of “this is the first night where the sex feels real and not like a marital duty”

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel...feelings. too many of them. most of carnal nature. some of deeply emotional nature. this story did too many things to me, holy fuck i need air. besties, Kinktober hits different because we can be totally unhinged together and i am loving the adventure ❤

You fucked up. You are aware that you did. Five men are dead, slaughtered because you trusted the wrong person. Seven barely escaped death and the rest were either hurt or pissed.

Taehyung’s with you, cleaning the cut on your cheek a broken bottle left. You think someone threw it at you, but you blacked out before you could see who did it.

“Hurts”, you groan.

“I know, sorry. It must be done”, Taehyung answers you, replacing the blood soaked cotton swap with a new one. Soaked in disinfectant, he presses it against your wound, eliciting another hiss of discomfort from you.

“So what are we gonna tell him?” Jimin asks the question the rest of the group was too afraid to ask.

“The truth, what else?” Namjoon says dryly, fingers busy with stopping the bleeding on his arm by pressing a cloth to it.

“Yeah and risk her getting shot? Nah thanks”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“People died”, Namjoon hisses, eyes lowered in anger, “Yoongi’s still out and guess shit about how Hoseok’s surgery is going.”

“She didn’t shoot them did she?”

“She could have very well pulled the fucking trigger.”

You avoid looking at Namjoon, knowing very well that he would probably kill you with just a look if he could. You understand him. You’re angry at yourself as well. You weren’t careful enough and let the details of the meeting meet the wrong people, ending in the cops busting you in the middle of the deal.

“Where is she?!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts through the air like thunder.

Your stomach twists in fear. He’s back.

“Oh fuck”, Seokjin gasps, looking at the opened door and regretting not having closed it.

“Where is she? Where’s my fucking wife?” Jungkook screams outside.

You exchange a panicky look with the others.

"Is she in there?" Jungkook spits, voice sounding as if he is just by the door.

“Sir wait, they aren’t done-“, one of your guards stumbles into the room and falls forcefully.

“What the hell?” Jimin exclaims, staring at the groaning guard.

Seconds later the reason for his fall appears in the door frame.

Jungkook. Black hair messy, eyes dangerously dark in anger and tattooed knuckles bruised from the punch he just threw.

“Don't fucking talk to me like that, cunt”, he spits at the guard.

“I-I'm sorry Sir”, the guard stutters, holding his aching cheek.

“Tzt.”

Jungkook rolls his shoulders and lifts his head, eyes running over the room and landing on you.

They lower in anger, head tilting to the side in this distinct almost hunter like manner Jungkook always gets when he is in the mood for carnage.

“You wanna fucking tell me what happened?” he hisses, voice calm but you know better than to trust it. You know what Jungkook does with traitors and you are currently the main suspect for the leak.

“I didn’t know Yeonseok would leak that shit”, you say.

“Don't give me that bullshit, you knew exactly what kinda fuck he is”, Jungkook spits.

“I didn’t. Listen. I really didn’t. If I had, I’d have shot him.”

“Bullshit. You’re working for them. Ugly fucking undercover pig”, Jungkook growls, reaching for the side. Hidden behind his suit jacket and strapped into a belt, his gun is waiting to be used.

“Hey Kook”, Jimin’s on his feet and in front of Jungkook instantly, “I believe her. She didn’t know Yeonseok was the snitch. We thought Lee would leak the shit, but he got shot. Nobody suspected Yeonseok, especially not ___.”

"I don't believe this", Jungkook growls, taking a step closer with his dark eyes never leaving your face. Jimin stops him, strong hand on Jungkook’s heaving up and down chest and muscles tensing under the turtleneck.

“Think”, he insists, “why would she work for them? The fucking pigs killed her brother, the last thing she'd do is kiss their fucking boots.”

Jungkook fights Jimin, lips curled back in an angry huff of air.

“Let alone betray you. She’s your wife. She chose you, didn’t she?” Jimin adds, finally managing to change Jungkook’s gaze from you to him.

His hand slips from his gun, he stops fighting Jimin. Now standing still.

“She didn’t choose shit”, Jungkook spits and pushes himself away from Jimin. He walks to the door in heavy steps, “clean this fucking shit up once you’re done”, he hisses.

“Where are you going?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder.

“Making sure Yoongi’s got someone with him if he decides to actually bite the dust”, he spits, eyes landing on you for one last deadly look, “fucking shitshow”, he whispers and turns to leave.

The front door slams closed seconds later.

“Well fuck”, you press out, sinking in on yourself, “thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it”, Jimin answers you, currently helping the guard back up on his feet.

The air is tense in the room. You all know very well that this wasn’t over yet.

The penthouse is empty when Jungkook returns. Safe for the guards out front, everyone else left.

You didn’t. Obviously, because you live here even if the downstairs was poisoned by work. Upstairs maybe a little bit of home was present. Stuff like memoirs or sweet pictures of you and your husband weren’t present, but at least the lingering stench of blood, drugs and metal wasn’t present upstairs.

You don’t know if you loved your husband. You are pretty sure he doesn’t love you. Your marriage is a business contract between two wealthy crime families, making sure their money gets secured. You accepted, Jungkook accepted and that was the story of your love. Sex was okay because he's obsessed with perfection and that goes for sex too. Passion or tenderness obviously wasn’t present during those moments, because Jungkook sees sex as much of a task as his other things. Torture, fighting, murder, bringing in money with little loss. Those things have to be calculated and follow a certain pattern to be perfect in his eyes. The same goes for sex. Intimacy wasn’t present either, safe for the moments where he walked around naked in front of you or told you to show off a set of lingerie for him, but that was only because you were married and he saw those acts as duty. Romance was present once. You remember it clearly. It was a Sunday. The 16th of July two years ago. The sun was warm and the organisation was quiet for once. Jungkook took you out for ice cream that day and told you that he thought the dress you wore was pretty. You saw him smile that day and thought that he almost looked innocent when he smiled. You never saw him smile again since that day.

You don’t know if you loved Jungkook and you know he didn’t love you. But that was okay because you didn’t expect him to.

You were sleeping when Jungkook came home. You wake when he has already showered. He is sitting by the foot end of your bed, legs spread and arms resting on his thighs so he can make his lower arms tangle between them. He is shirtless, giving view to his tattooed torso. His lower body is covered by a towel, his hair is tied into a messy bun. He is overlooking the city. The Empire, which one day will be his' with you as the ruling Queen by his side. That is if he doesn’t decide to murder you tonight.

“Husband?” you try quietly, hoping for a moment that he won’t hear you.

He inhales loudly, straightening his back.

“Go back to sleep”, he says coldly, eyes never once breaking away from the city. It looks so small from your bedroom window, but this is only an illusion made by just how high up you are.

You often walk in on him jerking off right by the windows and with his hand in a punishing rhythm. Jungkook fucking loves standing by the windows and getting off to how small and tiny everything looks. The king standing on his throne and looking down at his suspects. He fucking cums like crazy to that thought.

“How is Yoongi?” you ask him.

“Alive for now.”

“That's such a relief to hear”, you say honestly.

“Mhm.”

“And the others? How did the surgeries go?”

“Good. They’ll all live.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so relieved right now.”

“Mhm.”

You sit up to crawl to him. You snake your arms around him, making him tense up and lift his head proudly. You aren’t wearing much more than panties and a bra. Not very comfortable, but you thought that maybe if you dressed yourself in Jungkook’s favourite set tonight, he won’t kill you the instant he laid eyes on you. It seems to be working, given how you are still breathing.

The little clothing results in your naked stomach coming into contact with his naked back. His skin feels cold in comparison to yours.

“Tae and Jin captured Yeonseok. He tried to take one of the boats to flee to Jeju. Did you hear?” you tell him.

“Yes.”

“What will happen to him now?”

“Why? So you can save him? Well, too fucking late. I already skinned the bastard. Cut off his cock too, made him eat it cause it’s what lying fucking pigs deserve”, he says almost nonchalantly.

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. You mask the gag you wanted to do by inhaling deeply, dancing your hands to Jungkook’s sculpted pecs. You don’t really want to touch him right now, this is solely to fight for your life.

“That's good to hear”, you whisper, kissing his shoulder, “I would have done far worse to him.”

“Tzt yeah sure”, Jungkook scoffs, moving away from you.

You study his face as best as you can see it from this position. His brows are creasing, eyes as dark as the night and lips turned downwards into a frown. You rest your chin on his shoulder, hands coming to rest on his pecs. His heart is racing like crazy in his chest, letting you know that despite his calm exterior he was in utter distress inside. You rub slow circles on his skin, making him react by flexing his pecs because his nipples are sensitive and the touch is affecting him.

“I'm loyal to you, husband”, you say, trailing your kisses to his neck, “please believe me.”

Jungkook rolls his head to the side, exposing his neck to your lips. You kiss his skin. He tastes like hints of his cologne. Smells like it too.

He keeps on staring out at the city, lips pursed in anger and eyes cold.

“And I’m loyal to the organisation. It’s all that matters to me”, you say, taking his pierced ear between your teeth to nibble on it softly.

Jungkook closes his eyes, relaxing his brows. You don’t see it happening as you are too busy licking and kissing his piercings. You know that he’s into that shit.

“I'd suffocate you”, he rasps.

You try not to falter in your kisses, hoping that he can’t feel your heart speeding up in fear.

“I'd want you struggling and fighting for life. I'd do it with my bare hands to feel your last breath leave you.”

Only now do you notice the gun tangling from his fingers. Did he bring this here to shoot you? Are you currently kissing your murderer's neck? Is that why his heart is racing? Because deep down he is nervous to kill his wife, but he knows that he has to?

“That's how I'd kill you if you ever betrayed me”, he says, eyes flitting to the distorted version of your bodies in the window’s reflection. Him towering over the city and you holding him close. The image could be beautiful if the air wasn’t so tense and you cared so very little for each other. He locks eyes with you.

You gulp, barely controlling your breathing. This is it. This is the moment you’re looking into death's eyes.

“How's your cheek?” Jungkook however asks, flustering you.

“It's… it won’t scar”, you say, stumbling back when Jungkook turns.

He pulls you back by grabbing you by your chin. He moves your head from left to right, dark eyes glued to the now bandaged cut on your cheek.

“Did you see who did that to you?” he asks.

“No, it happened way too fast.”

“Mhm”, Jungkook brushes his thumb over the band aid, “thank fuck it missed your eye.”

“Uh..yes…I guess…”

One must know that stuff like genuine worry for each other, affection and concern were nonexistent in your marriage. It is important to know so one can understand why you were so entirely flabbergasted by your husband’s concern right now. Jungkook never cares. Did seeing Yoongi almost die tonight affect him so much that he is becoming affectionate now? Or is this his way of saying goodbye before he finally kills you?

Jungkook pulls you closer, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in fear. His strong hand lands on the back of your head.

His kisses your bandaged cheek.

Your breath trembles as it leaves you.

Your eyes open quickly, locking with his’. They are still dark, racing between yours and looking almost hypnotising from the close proximity you and him find yourselves in.

Jungkook moves in and kisses your lips as he keeps on staring at you, fingers tightening more and more on the back of your head.

You sigh shakily, squeezing your eyes shut because you can’t bear to look into his eyes when his lips claim yours so angrily. His teeth bite your lower lip, his tongue licks over it, his lips suck harshly. You reach for him for support, nails scratching down his arm as softly as possible.

The kiss breaks, strings of saliva keep you connected but they break just seconds later, now covering your skin. You peel your eyes open, meeting his unfaltering gaze. Your hands slip from him again.

He can see the uncertainty and confusion on your face, but he won’t call you out on it.

“You and your loyalty are mine, don’t forget that”, he rasps.

“I won’t”, you whisper, “and I never did”, you add just in case it wasn’t clear to him yet.

Jungkook slips his hand from your head and turns back to the city. He is playing with his gun mindlessly, eyes racing over the millions and millions of lights down below. You are sitting, daring not to move let alone breathe. The air shouldn’t be so tense anymore, but it is. Jungkook cared for your cheek, kissed you and told you his version of an I Love You. You don’t know what is happening. This isn’t your husband.

You let your eyes flit to the reflection of your bodies, coming to the scary revelation that Jungkook wasn’t staring at the city, but at you. He twists the gun in his fingers, making the safety click once.

You gulp. Now you understand. This was his goodbye. His last attempt to be affectionate before he shoots you.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper shakily, eyes burning in tears.

Jungkook acknowledges you with a cock of his right brow, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He lowers his head, eyes locking on the gun. His thumb runs over the cold metal, his jaw clenches.

“Stand up”, he finally says.

You follow with shaking knees, biting down on your tongue in order not to start sobbing.

Jungkook grips your wrist and tugs you right in front of him. You try not to squeak, let alone breathe too quickly.

He lets go of your wrist once he is happy with your position, placing both his hands on your waist. The coldness of the gun feels unbearable on your skin, digging into your flesh and leaving deep shivers behind.

He dances his hands up your torso. His thumbs are on your tummy, tracing the pearl netting which is spanning itself over your upper stomach.

You don’t dare to look down, eyes glued to the mirror behind your bed. There was another mirror right above your bed because Jungkook is obsessed with watching himself when you fuck. He also fucking loves it that you have to stare at yourself when he’s got you on your back, folded in half and with his huge cock drilling into your puffy pussy.

Jungkook leans in, connecting his lips with your tummy.

You can’t stop yourself from gasping or flinching for that matter. You bite down on your lower lip to stop more noises from slipping out of you, shifting your gaze even further up the wall just so you can’t accidentally look down at him.

His tongue darts out just to lick a thick stripe up your stomach until the position naturally breaks the contact.

Your skin prickles where he licked it, the air of the room feels ice cold while your body is burning up. All of this isn’t your husband. All of this swerves so far out of the patterns he made up for sex and you don’t know what that means.

“You’re so fucking sexy”, he rasps, lifting his head and realising that you aren’t looking at all. He furrows his brows, clenching his jaw. Why aren’t you looking? You are supposed to look when he’s worshipping you.

“Get on your fucking knees”, he orders in a growl.

You follow instantly, folding your hands on your lap and looking at the ground. Jungkook tilts your head up with the gun under your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him even if that was the last thing you currently want to do.

“Why are you avoiding eye contact?” he asks, pupils dilated in anger.

“I-I…I’m sorry”, you stutter, widening your eyes for good measures.

Jungkook studies your features and your body. You carry fear in your eyes, your thumbs fumble with each other secretly, your thighs are pressed together in nervousness. Jungkook looks at the gun under your chin and understands.

He pulls it away and with a press, releases the magazine. It falls into his palm. He twirls it between his fingers and shows it to you.

Your eyes widen in shock.

It’s empty.

Jungkook presses the button to let you know the barrel was empty too.

Your eyes flit up to Jungkook’s face, racing restlessly in an attempt to make sense of all of this.

Jungkook slams the magazine back into the gun and takes your face between his fingers. He tugs you closer, leaning in to meet you in the middle.

“This isn’t your fucking punishment, get that outta your head”, he hisses.

“O-okay”, you stutter, feeling your heart skip a few beats from having him so close. His breath smells like minty toothpaste.

“You think I’m gonna shoot you? Like a coldblooded murderer?” he squeezes your cheeks, “I told you how I’d kill you, didn’t I? You think I’d not already have done it if I wanted you dead? That I’d let you sleep while I was taking a shower? No”, he moves closer, brushing his lips against yours to whispers darkly, “if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Wife.”

“Oh”, you press out, shoulders sagging in relief and eyes spilling tears. He forgave you. Jungkook forgave you. You aren’t going to die tonight. The gun is solely a prop in some sick play of power and sex.

Jungkook wipes your tears away with a rough thumb, taking your cheeks back between his fingers afterwards.

“Don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you. You know that I don’t do that”, he whispers softly.

"I know", you get out, sniffling like crazy to get rid of the desire to sob.

"Good", he says and with one push to your lips feeds you his thumb.

You suck on it instantly, having done so a thousand times before. That shit is familiar to you. Having to suck off Jungkook’s fingers is a routine to you.

You were so ready to do it for minutes, but Jungkook already pulls out after nothing but five eager sucks, leaving you to chase him with a trembling sigh.

He straightens up and pulls the gun back into your vision. He holds it tightly, positioning it right between his thighs in a way so that the barrel would face the ceiling.

“Suck it like you’d suck my cock”, he orders.

You hesitate, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“Did I stutter? Suck my fucking gun”, he hisses, placing his hand at the back of your head to push you closer.

You eye the cold gun, gulping nervously. You know that it was empty and safe, but the thought still scares you. Sucking his cock is easy because his shape is familiar to your lips and tongue. But the gun is new. He never asked you to do that before. Of course he didn’t, because it wasn’t part of the pattern on normal nights.

Jungkook tightens his grip on your head, giving you an impatient push. There is no going back. You scoot closer, placing your hands over his’ and lowering your lips to the gun. You kiss the tip first like you would do his cock, feeling his fingers twitch on the back of your head. You can’t see it but Jungkook is staring down at you without ever blinking, frowning but with his chest heaving up and down quickly.

You close your lips around the barrel and sink down slowly.

Jungkook exhales loudly and opens his thighs just slightly, acting as if you finally took in his cock. Even his fingers tighten on your head.

The gun tastes weird. Metal and grease. You are pretty sure that you shouldn’t have those things in your mouth, but you won’t say anything. You slip off of it for a catch of breath, getting pushed back down instantly.

“Don’t stop”, he orders in a rasp, moving your head up and down slowly, “fucking suck it like you mean it.”

You moan for him, squeezing his hand. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breathing is ragged. You don’t suck on it like you would his cock, merely letting the barrel glide over your tongue. It hits the back of your throat with each movement, tickling out your gag reflex more and more.

“There we go, so fucking good”, Jungkook rasps above you, staring down at you with blown-out pupils. Your lips look so good wrapped around the black metal. They move so nicely as you fuck your face with it.

The barrel is a lot smaller than Jungkook’s cock. Both in length and in girth. It is an easy task to have it in your mouth, even if the square shape and hardness is something to get used to. Other than that however, the size in itself isn’t all that bad. Sometimes when you suck Jungkook’s cock, your jaw hurts afterwards because of his size, so the gun is a welcome change. Even if the taste needs some getting used to.

It hits the back of your throat and finally triggers your gag reflex. You gag loudly, slipping off of it to prevent the worst case scenario. You wheeze and gasp for air, swallowing heavily.

“You sound so sweet”, Jungkook lulls, caressing the back of your head, “lick it for me.”

You place your tongue at the base of the gun, brushing against his fingers accidentally. Jungkook takes a deep breath in reaction, moving his hips in a slow squirm. Just once and then he is in control again.

You moan as you finally drag your tongue up the barrel, licking it as if you were licking the big vein on the underside of his cock. It feels so different than when you do it to him. Hard metal, unmoving unlike his vein which is always pulsating and throbbing when you lick it. You miss those sensations, craving them against the tip of your tongue.

“There we go, that’s it”, Jungkook whispers, voice shaky in arousal, “lick the tip, go on.”

You follow, swirling your tongue over the tip and moaning oh so hungrily.

“That’s it, fuck”, Jungkook tenses his thighs, relaxing them in a tremble, “such a good girl, fuck.”

Whimpering, you press the flat of the tongue right against the tip, grinding it back and forth quickly. Jungkook fucking loves when you do that to his tip, reacting with a sharp intake of breath now that he watches you do it to the gun.

“Fucking amazing, that’s fucking amazing”, he praises, voice raspy and just slightly lulled, “feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You mewl, nodding your head. And you mean it. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s praise and the utter pleasure in his voice, but licking his gun is starting to genuinely feel fucking good. You dig the tip of your tongue into the bullet hole, eliciting a deep growl from Jungkook.

“That’s it”, he whispers breathily, hand slipping from the back of your head to cup your cheek, “fuck, that’s it, doll.”

The nickname sends heat to your pussy. Honestly moaning, you take the gun back inside, letting it sink into your mouth until you can feel it at the back of your throat. It is a lot more difficult to get it inside than Jungkook’s cock. Not because of its size but because of its unmoving character. Jungkook’s cock bends, no matter how hard and swollen you’ve gotten him, there is still a slight bend to it, which makes it easier to get it inside. But the gun doesn’t bend, forcing you to bend yourself instead to get it inside.

You keen, dropping tears onto your cheeks. A needy shake courses through you, your left hand slips from his hand just to grab his thigh instead. His skin is hot as fire, his muscles are so hard under your palm. You squeeze desperately, whimpering around the gun. Somehow holding his strong thigh is helping you stay grounded. Maybe it even soothes you.

“Such a good girl”, Jungkook praises, slipping his hand back to your head. He grabs a bundle of your hair and twists softly, “Is that tasty? Mhm? Do you like how my gun tastes?”

You break away from it just to gaze up at him, almost forgetting what you wanted to say to him in the process because of his cock. You look at it for just a second too long. Completely hard and swollen, it’s standing against his toned stomach, having escaped the towel. It is even leaking, tip looking so wet and sticky. Holy fuck. Your pussy clenches around nothing. Holy fuck, he’s so hard.

“I…” you clear your throat, breaking your eyes away from his cock to look into his eyes, “…I love it”, you whisper shakily.

Jungkook drags his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tears away, eyes lowering in arousal.

“Yeah? You love it? More than my cock?”

You gulp.

“Tell me.”

“N-no your c-cock’s better”, you stutter, hoping that this is what he wanted to hear.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, lips curling into a cocky smirk.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say”, he rasps, squeezing your chin softly, “take off my towel.”

You scramble to your knees and reach for the knot. Jungkook rests back on his hands, having the drool covered gun resting beside him for now. He watches you with a quickly moving chest as you undo the knot and pull the towel open. Not that a lot of new stuff gets exposed because of it, give how his cock’s already been freed before that. Only his neatly trimmed pubes and heavy balls see the new light of the day, hypnotising you.

You may not love Jungkook and, hell, Jungkook may not love you, but the sexual attraction you both feel for each other was sometimes unbearable. Jungkook’s a sexy, attractive man, even if he sometimes scares you. He never hurt you in your years together, so you have no idea why you are scared of him, but you are. You are scared and so goddamn, achingly attracted to his body.

Especially tonight, because Jungkook is disregarding every single pattern you established over the years and that shit turns you on like nothing else.

“There we go, good girl”, Jungkook praises, straightening back up. He cups your cheek and makes you look up at him.

You swallow heavily, hands falling to his thighs just so you can hold something of him.

He smiles.

Jungkook fucking smiles.

For the second time ever since you’ve became his’, Jungkook is showing you his smile.

And it’s flustering you so much that your breath actually hitches in your throat.

“You’re such a pretty girl”, he whispers, tracing your lips.

You exhale shakily, feeling your head pound from those overwhelming feelings in your chest. Jungkook is smiling. He called you pretty. Jungkook called you pretty and is smiling. Holy fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your frown and glassy eyes.

“Nothing”, you barely get the word out.

“Mhm”, he hums, smile slowly fading into a relaxed expression. He lets go of your cheek just so he can dance his hand down to your throat to hold it as gently as possible, “I want you to take off your bra.”

You reach behind yourself without hesitation. Jungkook keeps your eyes on him not through force but through sheer attraction. Your heart’s racing like crazy.

The clasp opens easily. You tug the straps from your shoulders and let the piece of clothing fall onto your lap.

He looks down at your newly exposed chest, slipping his hand from your throat for it.

“Hm”, he hums, nodding his head with a frown on his face. It’s the same frown he gets when he likes food.

Jungkook places his hands over your tits, making you arch your back just to chase him. His palm is slightly callused from fighting, but his touch is tender. He gathers them and squeezes strongly. The sensation crawls down your body and makes your pussy so goddamn wet in your panties.

“Pretty”, he rasps, moving his fingers over your tits until he can pinch your nipples, tugging at them until you whimper. He smirks lazily, massaging them as his eyes flit back to your face just to take in how your lips part in a gasp. “you’re the prettiest, baby.”

“Kook”, you whimper, hands sliding to his inner thighs and eyes burning in new tears. It feels so good to be called baby by him. He only did that during your ice cream date and ever since that day, all you ached for was for another repetition of the nickname.

Jungkook dries your tears with the back of his hand, eyes softening slightly.

“Why do you keep crying, mhm?” he asks.

“I, I don’t know”, you stutter, sniffling like crazy.

"Do you not want me to play with you, mhm?"

"Please don’t stop", you breathe, meaning it honestly.

“Mhm”, he hums and gives your cheek a soft pinch, “stand up for me”, he orders.

You struggle so much. He’s got you so weak that you don’t want to get up. So he helps you, placing his strong hands on your waist to tug you to your feet. He stands up as well once you’re safely on your feet, holding your waist and stepping closer. Like this, he is towering over you, making you lift your head just so you can keep looking into his eyes. He doesn’t feel scary right now. Just strong and like he’d protect you from the world. The feeling is so foreign to you that you want to scream, but you can’t bring yourself to produce any other sound than soft whimpers and shaky intakes of air.

“Now you wanna keep looking at me, don’t you?” he speaks softly, eyes racing between yours.

You nod your head.

“Touch me, baby”, Jungkook whispers.

You place your hands on his chest, eliciting a shaky exhale from him.

He steps closer, hands sliding down to your hips to pull you into him. His head tilts down, nose brushing against yours.

“There we go”, he breathes, “do you like how I feel?”

“Yes”, you sigh, meaning it honestly.

“Baby”, Jungkook whispers, cupping your cheeks to pull you into a deep kiss. His head is tilted to the side, his shoulders are lifted to his ears, his lips move slowly yet desperately against yours.

You stare at him in shock. He’s got his eyes closed. Jungkook’s got his fucking eyes closed as he kisses you. The kiss is real to him. He’s actually feeling it.

“Fuck”, you press out in a shaky sigh, hooking your arms behind his neck to pull him close. Your eyes fall closed and your tongue finally chases his’ in a slow yet needy rhythm.

Jungkook moans, slipping his left hand from your cheek just so he can snake his arm around your waist and press you against his chest. Naked tits against naked pecs. Hot skin against hot skin. Cock against your stomach and hearts beating quickly in both your chests. All of this so far away from the patterns, that they aren’t even on the same map anymore. And you fucking love it, dragging your nails over his undercut until you touch his bun. With sloppy tugs, you open it. His hair falls down in messy waves, getting gathered and twisted by you.

Jungkook keens almost needily, lifting you easily. He isn’t just working out to be ready for whatever fight his life throws at him, but also to lift you whenever you want him to. He never did it before, but all he’s thinking about is lifting you when you’re both naked and lost in a kiss. Your weight makes the muscles in his arms shift and tense, his abs flex right against your pussy. Jungkook loves how you whimper into the kiss and how small you seem to make yourself just to fit into his arms easier.

Your legs snake around his waist, squeezing it tightly. You hate that you’re still wearing your panties. All you want to feel is his skin against your pussy. You’re so fucking into him right now. You need him like crazy.

The truth was that Jungkook is so goddamn vulnerable tonight. He is shaken to the core from everything that happened today, aching for affection he is very well aware you probably have to work very hard for to gather for him. He’s aware that you don’t love him, even if he can’t imagine his life without you. And today he had to. He had to imagine how life would be without you, because he almost lost you to a misunderstanding. He was so angry at you at first and so goddamn hurt. Not you, he thought, not his fucking wife. His heart broke when he heard that you were the one leaking the details, because that meant he had to kill you. Then it ached in confusion when he had to decide whether or not he could still trust you, all while he had to be there for Yoongi. The man, he considers as his own fucking brother. He came home, exhausted from crying over Yoongi way too much and skinning the real traitor, expecting you to have fled, only to see you sleeping in your shared bed and if Jungkook hadn’t been so dirty from murdering Yeonseok, he’d have climbed right into bed with you just to hug you against his chest. Your refusal to flee, even if that meant that he could potentially kill you, was all the proof he needed to know that your loyalty for him never faltered.

And now he’s a mess. Going from anger, heartbreak, confusion, worry and relief left him so goddamn needy for affection. He’d never tell you, because he possibly couldn’t share his feelings with you, but he fucking aches for you like nothing else. Even if it’s just pretend from your side.

He walks to the big windows, pressing you right against them even if that makes you gasp from the cold. The kiss still doesn’t break however, only deepening as your limbs seem to pull him closer and closer. Jungkook presses himself against you, moaning right with you as this makes your pussy press against his cock. He rocks his hips slowly, forcing his cock to glide between his stomach and your clothed pussy.

“Fuck”, he croaks, lips faltering in the kiss.

You chase him, moaning his name.

“I need you”, he gets out, cockhead grinding against your clothed clit and making your fingers scratch down his undercut.

“Need you too”, you answer him.

There is a chaise lounge to your right. Jungkook takes the necessary step and sits down on it, right on its edge. Your body hits his lap, hips chasing his muscular thigh in a needy roll.

He lets the kiss break for the sake of looking at you. His strong hands are on your thighs, your knees are on each side of his hips. His eyes are half-lidded and heavy in arousal.

“Lift your hips”, he orders and you follow.

Jungkook hooks his fingers in your panties and twists the fabric. In one rough tug, he’s got them ripped from your body, leaving behind burning skin and a racing heart.

“Those were your favourites”, you whisper.

“Doesn’t matter”, he dismisses you, throwing the ruined panties on the ground. He grips your hips and pulls them back onto his lap. He rocks them back and forth slowly, making your wet pussy grind right against his thigh.

Your breath trembles, fingers twisting in his long hair. His skin is so soft and hot, his muscles are so defined.

“You’re already dripping”, he says, voice deep in arousal. He wanted to get you wet on his cock and now has to live with the knowledge that you’re already wet for him. He’s so fucking into you, it’s insane.

“Yeah”, you sigh, chasing his thigh desperately.

“Fuck baby”, he presses out, gripping you by the back of your neck, “get on my fucking cock. Now”, he growls, pupils dilated to the point where his eyes appear black.

You follow without hesitation, lifting your soaked pussy from his thigh just to shimmy up his lap and align yourself with his cock. You grind your hole against his tip twice and then Jungkook squeezes your hips in warning, eyes lowering dangerously.

You let yourself drop.

“Oh”, you croak, head falling against his shoulder and body trembling. He’s so fucking big. It’s stretching you out so much.

“There we go. Take that cock”, he rasps, rubbing the small of your back soothingly.

Inch by inch he’s gliding into you, making you feel fuller and fuller. He barely manages to bottom out, eliciting the shakiest moan from you. He growls against your skin, hands slipping to your ass to squeeze it angrily, “that’s it. Your pussy’s so fucking good. Move.”

You circle your hips slowly, whimpering into him and trying to close your legs even if that is impossible in the position and only ends with you squeezing his hips. You feel like bursting.

“Jun-Jungkook”, you get out.

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You’re, you’re so big.”

“I know”, he tilts your hips differently to make the breach a little easier, “do you like it, mhm?”

“Yes”, you mewl, meaning it honestly. He may be a lot and he may make you feel like you’re being ripped in half, but that shit feels so good. It feels amazing on normal days and feels like paradise tonight. You don’t want to stop, you want to keep rutting against him until your pussy is finally stretched enough and stops burning.

“Yeah? You do?” Jungkook forces your head to lift with his hand on your neck. He moves his hips, basking in the widening of your eyes and the clenching of your wet pussy.

“K-Kook”, you squeak, brows furrowing in pleasure.

“There we go, relax. I know I’m big, but you’re my girl, aren’t you?”

You nod your head, gasping for air when his cock fills you up completely again. And he leaves you again, making you chase his girth instantly.

“Yeah you are”, Jungkook slips his thumb to your throat, keeping it resting there without applying pressure, “and my girl’s made for my cock, isn’t she?”

You nod your head, feeling new arousal seep out of you. Jungkook never called you his girl before. It feels so good now that he does.

“Tell me baby”, he orders.

“I’m made for your cock”, you whisper, pussy throbbing around his cock.

“And why is that?” he stresses, feeling you tremble on his lap and loving the shit out of it.

“Because I’m your girl”, you croak, falling around his neck a moment later to kiss him.

Jungkook gasps, hand slipping from your throat to bury itself in your hair at the back of your head. He moans, tensing his thighs desperately when you finally begin to actually move on his cock. Quick movements up and down and skilled circles whenever he’s balls deep inside you. It sounds wet and nasty, filling both of you with the desire to keep going and fucking going.

Tongues tangle, hands grope desperately, hips rut against each other. Breathing is hard when you’re kissing so much and the sex feels so fucking good. Hot and addicting. So without any kind of patterns and rules. So honest and fucking real. There is no order in your movements, just honest desperation to get off on each other as quickly and as intensely as possible. And you don’t want this to stop. Please don’t ever let this stop.

Jungkook doesn’t want it to stop either. Breaking patterns and ignoring rules. The thought normally gives him the fucking ick. But he doesn’t care right now. He doesn’t want patterns or rules, he wants you. All of you. The unfiltered, honest you. The sex tonight is his apology. He hopes you can see that it is. His apology for ever doubting you, his apology for yelling at you in front of the others and his apology for being so goddamn needy for you. He hopes you can feel how sorry he is and how goddamn into it he is.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His shaky breath intermingles with your trembling one, his thumbs brush over your temples, his eyes are closed.

And because his eyes are closed, he doesn’t see that you have yours closed as well. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t feel so fucking sorry for being needy. Because you are fucking needy for him too. Being married is only fun when you’re desired, otherwise it leaves one with a constant ache in one’s chest. And Jungkook’s spilling over in desire tonight, soaking you with it just as much. It feels so good to fuck honestly and like you actually want to fuck.

“I’m so fucking into this”, Jungkook rasps, voice trembling because he bottoms out right this moment, feeling your pussy clench in reaction.

“Me too”, you answer him shakily, lifting yourself just to drop back down on him.

“Fuck”, he croaks and pulls you back into a deep kiss. You squeak as you weren’t ready for it, fingers squeezing his shoulders tightly and hips trembling on his lap. He is kissing you so desperately, moaning so much. It affects you so much. Jungkook isn’t vocal in bed. The penthouse is never truly empty. Guards, one of the others, some of the other goons. The penthouse is never truly empty and Jungkook decided for himself that being quiet was part of sex. Nobody needs to know how into it he is, especially not all the idiots downstairs. So to have him moan and growl and gasp so freely tonight, feels like sex in itself.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, moving just far away enough that he can look at your face. He dances his thumb over your cheek, letting his left hand slide to your hip just so he can squeeze it.

“Is this real for you?” he asks, eyes droopy and barely staying open.

You look at them and how they are filled with so much pleasure, pain and hopefulness. You nod your head honestly.

“Yeah, it’s real”, you whisper.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out, voice trembling and eyes squeezing shut.

He wraps his arm around you, pressing your face into the crook of his neck with his hand on the back of your head. His lips are on your shoulder, his nose is inhaling desperately. His legs broaden their stance so he can finally meet your movements. He thrusts into you deep and strong, forcing your body to tremble involuntarily.

“Kook”, you whimper, tensing up in surprise.

“I’ve got you, I’ve fucking got you”, he whispers against your skin, “fucking hold onto me, baby.”

You drag your nails up his back and neck, burying your fingers in his hair as deeply as possible. Like this your chests are almost melting with each other and his cock is so deep inside you, stomach grinding against your clit.

“That’s it”, he rasps, “that’s fucking it. Your husband’s got it. Gonna fuck you so slow, so fucking deep. Fuck”, he moans, body twitching as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust into you so much rougher afterwards, making your toes curl from how good it feels, “I fucking got it, got you so good. So fucking good.”

He had his eyes on his city once, thinking to himself how pretty those lights look. But not anymore. His face buried in the crook of your shoulder and his eyes are squeezed shut so tightly that his brain is coming up with its own sparkles of light. You feel like heaven around him. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he could swear that you feel so much wetter than you do on other nights.

Jungkook always makes sure that you are wet. Because getting you wet gives him an ego boost. But tonight it feels so real. So honest. It’s covering his cock and is running down his balls. He’s never experienced that sensation before, cradling you in his strong arms because of it.

You are also twitching and writhing like you never did before. They feel so honest and intense, making his own body shudder in reaction.

“I’m really close”, you whimper against his neck.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah”, you say and sob into him loudly, “Jungkook, please don’t stop, I’m so close”, you wail.

“Fuck baby”, Jungkook hugs you tighter, hips faltering just once before they find their rhythm again. Slow and deep, making your wet walls convulse around him rhythmically and for your smaller body to tremble against his bigger, oh so much stronger, frame. “Stop crying”, he soothes you in shaky whispers, “I’ve got you baby, don’t cry.”

“I, I can’t. It, it feels so good”, you stutter and hiccup a loud sob, “it feels so good”, you wail loudly and convulse on top of him, “oh god it’s happening”, you squeak out, hugging him with an almost scared desperation.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. Your husband’s right here, baby. Let go”, he soothes you, throwing you over the edge so intensely that for a second, you feel like passing out.

“Ah-“, you get out and then your voice cuts off and you begin shaking without having any sort of control over it.

Jungkook holds you close, rocking into you carefully because you are so tight that all other movements are impossible. He swears he’s never gotten you that good before.

Jungkook always makes sure that both of you have at least one orgasm during sex, because that is what perfection means to him. Well, at least until now it’s what it meant. Jungkook realises that this right now is so much more perfect than any well-calculated orgasm ever was. This right here feels real and makes his eyes tear up and once your aggressive tensing stops, his hips can’t seem to want to stop. He is chasing your tight pussy, putting rough desperation into his movements. The kind which makes his huge thighs slap against your ass each time he’s deep inside you and the kind which shakes you on top of him.

“Please”, you squeak out, voice so much higher than it normally is, “w-what are you doing?” you wail, “please oh god!”

Jungkook growls, pinning you against him and forcing your fleeing hips to take the fuck that way.

“Take me, I want you to take me”, he spits, feeling his heart pound in his brain.

“It’s too much”, you wail all while pulling him closer, “please, please, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop”, he grunts.

You shake your head vigorously in denial, sobbing into his shoulder and soiling his skin with your tears. Why would you want to say it? Why would you want to stop this when for the first time ever, Jungkook fucks you with honesty? Why would you want to stop the kind of sensations he never gave you before?

“I knew it. I fucking knew it”, Jungkook spits and pulls your hips into him just to land a harsh spank on your ass. You scream his name, scratching his back bloody as you try to grasp him for support.

Jungkook growls, head pounding from the pain.

“Fucking do that again, I liked it”, he orders, connecting his big hand with your ass. The heavy rings he is wearing add another layer of burn to the spank, leaving you to convulse on his cock.

“Please”, you sob, scratching his back open. The black tiger on his right shoulder blade cries red tears from your scratches, his skin burns like crazy.

“You’re so fucking good”, he growls, forcing your back to arch with a push of his arm. Like this your ass is sticking out and your pussy stretches around his cock visibly. Jungkook can see her shift around his cock. All puffy and swollen and oh so wet. The view may be a little distorted from the weak window reflection, but it’s still enough for him.

"You're so sexy, your pussy's so fucking pretty. Fuck baby", he growls and growls again. He spanks you, soaking up the view of your jiggling ass like an addict. The broken sound you make in reaction fuels him, makes his cock twice as hard as it already is.

Jungkook spanks you again, eliciting the most desperate, almost painful, sob ever. The reason for it presents itself to him just seconds later as your pussy convulses in another orgasm.

You claw at him, biting into his shoulder because nothing helps. Your pussy is so sensitive, your ass hurts so much, your body is so weak in his arms. All of this paired with the fact that Jungkook feels the same as you, makes you cum like you never orgasmed before. You convulse and shake and tremble until it gets too much for your pussy and she squirts angrily.

“Fuck yes”, Jungkook growls, reaching between your legs to rub your clit instantly. He pulls you off his cock for the sole purpose of giving your pussy the unplugged chance to squirt everywhere. And you do, oh you do. The entire floor in front of the chaise lounge gets covered in you, his cock is getting soaked in it too now that it’s right under your pussy, aching to be back inside.

"That's it. Squirt for me. Holy fuck, keep squirting baby. Fuck, you’re mine. Fucking mine", Jungkook is chanting whatever comes into his scrambled brain, rubbing your clit like a madman.

You scream and wail, twitching so aggressively that your muscles ache. You don’t even know anymore if he is making you squirt or if you’re just straight up pissing yourself. You know however that you don’t want him to stop, clawing at him with all the desperation in the world.

Jungkook moans loudly, back burning from your nails and head pounding like crazy. He’s got you fucking squirting. Holy fuck, it’s so hot. Jungkook presses his fingers tighter to your clit, rubbing her quickly.

"O-oh" you squeak, fleeing him with an arch of your back.

Jungkook however chases you, pinning you back against him, "don’t fight it. Let it happen", he growls, pinching your clit just to rub her between his fingers.

“Stop please”, you beg now that overstimulation is eating you alive, “holy fuck oh god”, you croak, writhing atop of him as his fingers press against your clit repeatedly.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, pinning your hips back against him, "I know you’re made for this. You're my fucking girl, you’re made for this", he chants and bucks his hips up, forcing his huge cock to slip back into you.

You squeak and grow completely still on top of him. The stretch goes oh so deep and hard. Holy fuck, your pussy feels like it's going to burst.

"Please", you beg.

Jungkook knows it’s because you are so goddamn tight and his cock is huge. He runs his hands down to your ass, soothing the burning skin with slow circles.

“Take a breath for me”, he orders, making it easier for you by grabbing your ass and parting it, which results in your pussy getting all open for him as well.

You whimper into his neck, barely taking breaths.

“There we go. I don’t wanna hurt you, baby”, Jungkook soothes you.

“You’re so big”, you mewl.

“I know. I know I am, but you can take me. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” you keen, relaxing around him in a desperate shudder.

“Yeah you are. You’re my good girl and you’re gonna take my big cock like you’re made for it, aren’t you?”

“F-for how long?” you stutter, twisting his hair as your body once again tenses without you having any kind of control over it. You are so tight and Jungkook’s so big. It burns so addictively, almost feeling too much and yet not enough. You don’t know whether to flee or to chase him. But you do know that for however long you have to take him still, the result will be the same. You are changed. If Jungkook thinks he can go back to his calculated patterns after tonight, he is mistaken. You never ever want to have other sex with him again. Just raw, honest, rough fucking.

“Not for long anymore. I’m really fucking close”, he answers you, picking up in his movements.

He is giving you long, drawn-out strokes. The kind which makes his entire cock leave your pussy before stuffing her again within one rough second. And which make his balls slap against your ass from the sheer force. Your skin is so sensitive from the spanking that getting his heavy balls against your ass feels like addicting paradise.

“Gonna cum so good baby. Gonna cum so fucking good”, Jungkook growls against you.

“Oh god”, you whimper, hugging him tightly, “are you gonna cum inside me?”

“Yes baby. Gonna stuff you.”

“Kook”, you sob, convulsing around him in desperation, “please stuff me, please.”

“I will, gonna fill you up till you’re dripping. Hear me? Want you dripping and leaking ‘cause of me.”

His hips falter, he squeezes your hips.

“Fuck”, he spits, “it’s…difficult…”

You understand him. When he made you cum like crazy, you couldn’t move either. It must be so difficult for him to keep moving his hips. You lift your head just so you can see how he reacts when you take over for him.

You may be entirely spend and tired, but making him cum is filling you with a spurt of energy. You slam your hips down on him, lifting them quickly afterwards just to begin your ruthless bouncing up and down his huge cock.

Jungkook widens his eyes, gasping for air. He scrunches his entire face up in pleasure, head rolling back and mouth falling open.

He moans loudly, voice sounding way more high-pitched than you ever heard him sound.

His very obvious enjoyment, motivates you to speed up. You add little movements back and forth to your bounces, biting down on your tongue solely because your own thighs want to give up on you. His cock feels so good inside you.

“Baby”, Jungkook keens, falling back on the chaise lounge. His head tangles over the edge just enough that his hair is hanging over the edge in messy strands. He throws his own arm over his eyes, moaning so loudly that you can hear it echo in the penthouse.

“Jungkook”, you mewl, slamming your hands on his chest for support. Like this you can arch your back and therefore force his cock to rub right against your walls.

Jungkook lets out a sob, almost making you falter in your movements. Your widened eyes are glued to his face in shock, your pussy is clenching like crazy in arousal. Jungkook drags both his hands over his face and buries them in his own hair. Like this his arms are tensing, sweat is running down his skin and soaking his hair.

“I’m cumming”, he croaks out and sobs.

“Do it, fill me up. Mark me as yours”, you growl, slamming down on him.

“Aaah!” Jungkook screams and arches his back. He gets stuck in that position as he finally breaks, chasing you with squirms while producing the most high-pitched and desperate squeaks ever.

“That’s it. Fuck. I’m yours Kook, fucking yours.”

“Oh god”, Jungkook arches his back even more, cock releasing another wave of cum inside you, “don’t stop please don’t stop, it feels good”, he begs, thighs trembling like crazy and stomach tensing so much that he fears he’ll develop a new set of never-seen-before-abs.

You fuck him and fuck him and fuck him and Jungkook keeps on shaking in his high as his cock is pumping you full of endless cum.

“Shit”, you croak, eyes rolling back and body trembling out of control now that you realised what was actually happening, “baby”, you croak, crumbling around him a third and last time, prolonging his orgasm to fiery levels of intensity.

“I can’t stop! It, it doesn’t stop”, he wails, feeling it run out of you by now. Did he seriously never cum before? What the hell is happening to him? What are you doing to him? Jungkook is crying and shaking and cumming and he has no control over it.

“Me neither”, you sob, collapsing with him as your body gives up on you, "fuck baby, oh baby."

"I fucking love this, holy shit", Jungkook growls, meeting your sloopy movements with equally as sloppy movements.

Now you are rutting against each other like tired, yet needy animals. Arms holding each other close and heads pounding like crazy. The sloppy grinding is enough to force your endless highs to die down gradually. Slowly, but at least they are dying down. Truly, you don’t think you could have stopped on your own if your bodies didn’t actually give up on you.

The room is silent, safe for your heavy breathing and the occasional sound when a droplet of your juices is dripping onto the ground. His cock is still inside you. Hard as a rock and getting squeezed by your tight walls. In theory none of those nice juices should escape you, but with the amount of cum he pumped into you, losing a few droplets is unavoidable.

Your head is resting on his chest right where his collarbone blends into his shoulder. You can hear the heavy pounding of his heart even from here. It mixes with the sound of your own rushing blood.

You don’t quite know if you actually fell asleep or not. The minutes after tonight’s fuck are a blur in your mind. Maybe you fell asleep, it would explain why you started drooling on Jungkook.

You slurp quietly, forcing your heavy eyes to open.

Jungkook’s chest heaves up and down slowly, his heartbeat calmed down. You are shivering like crazy, feeling so goddamn cold all of a sudden. Even his cock feels different, sitting inside you all limp and soft.

Okay you definitely fell asleep.

Groaning softly you lift yourself to your elbows.

Jungkook is very obviously sleeping. Mouth open widely and eyes closed. He looks so funny like that, making you giggle. Something you never did before, but tonight changed you. You can’t deny it. You feel fuzzy in his presence. Fuzzy and warm and maybe a little giddy.

You lift yourself even more, shimmying your hips to make his cock slip out.

Jungkook jerks awake, gripping your hips strongly to prevent it from happening.

“Don’t”, he croaks, voice heavy in sleep.

“Oh. I-“, you freeze up in the position, “I didn’t think you’d wake up.”

“I didn’t sleep”, Jungkook says, with his voice contorted in exhaustion now that he is forcing himself to sit up.

You snort, “yeah sure.”

“Does it matter?”

You shake your head, eyes racing between his’. Jungkook’s eyes do the same, hands running up and down your ass. He opens his mouth to talk only to chicken out and close it again.

You place your hands on the sides of his neck.

Jungkook exhales shakily because of it. He inhales and opens his mouth again.

“What”, he begins, having to clear his terribly dry throat, “what did this mean to you?”

You swallow down the heavy lump in your throat. Jungkook gulps as well, eyes widening in both nervousness and hopefulness.

“What did it mean to you?” you ask him, wanting to stall time.

“Don’t avoid my question”, he says in a shaky voice.

You lower your eyes and take a deep breath. When you lift your gaze seconds later, Jungkook’s eyes have filled with tears of unbearable nervousness.

“It meant everything…baby”, you say, gnawing on your lower lip in nervousness.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and pulls you close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck just so you can’t see his stupid tears roll down his cheeks. You aren’t calling him husband anymore.

“I feel the same”, he presses out, cradling you oh so strongly.

“Good”, you whisper, holding him against you.

“It’s you and I, yeah?”

“Yeah, you and I”, you promise him.

“Fuck, baby”, he exhales, standing up with you even if his legs are wobbly.

You hug him tightly, sighing his name. Maybe being his wife isn’t that bad. Maybe you actually do love him and maybe he actually loves you too. Maybe it is way too soon to make such decisions and maybe the magic will stop come tomorrow. But at least tonight you are sure that you love him and Jungkook knows that he loves you too.

He places you atop your bed, climbing on top of you.

“Wait, we’re dirty”, you gasp, “shouldn’t we shower first?”

Jungkook cups your face, “why? Just to get dirty again?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what that means”, Jungkook breathes and finally pulls you into a kiss.

5K notes · View notes

minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Burning Down | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut, crack, DadYoongi!AU, BadCop!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - guns, switching POVs, angst!, allusions to murder, mentions of blood, references to war, allusions to choking, Yoongi is not a good guy (ymmv)

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: You're going to finish what you started. But Yoongi won't let you take it all away.

A/N: Everyone thank Yoongi for those recent D-Day concept photos, because they inspired me to write another chapter! I think we're closing in on the end here 👀

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Part 5 💵 Bad Cop Masterlist 💵 Part 6

The house is dark when you turn into the driveway. Tall trees on either side of the gravel pathway stretch endlessly into the cloudy morning sky, their thick canopies providing the car with cover from the rain that’s just starting to fall.

Jungkook leans pretty heavily against you as you walk him to the door, and your knock is a little clumsy while you struggle to keep your partner on his feet. A light flickers on in the window, and then the door suddenly wrenches open from the inside. A rather handsome man peers down at where you’re slumped under Jungkook’s arm.

“Holy shit, what the fuck happened?”

Seokjin is not an agent. Seokjin is a former combat medic. You’d met years ago on a tour in a foreign land. He’d saved your back and you’d saved his, more than once. The blood you’d shed together had formed an inseparable bond between the two of you that meant more to you than your actual family. Which is why you’re here, in the middle of the night, holding a man who is slowly bleeding out all over his doorstep.

“For fuck’s sake, come in, I just bought that mat.” Seokjin ushers the two of you inside, glancing around. His house is fairly secluded, the copse of trees bordering the property protecting him from prying eyes, but he’s been in enough battles to know that you can never be too cautious.

He leads you and Jungkook into his living room, ordering you to help your partner onto the couch. He disappears for a moment and returns with a first aid kit - not the kind you’d find at your local pharmacy but one meant for the battlefield. You don’t ask why he has one so readily available. You know what it’s like to be haunted by war; always prepared for the day those ghosts might return.

You also don’t ask why he happens to have a small freezer in his basement where he keeps bags of blood. After he’d retired from the armed forces, Seokjin had gone into private practice. You have no idea just how “private” that means, what type of clientele he might be stitching up, accepting payment under the table instead of involving insurance. Or cops. It might be your place to ask, considering you’re a federal agent, but right now you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth - not when Seokjin’s busy saving Jungkook’s life.

Afterward, as Jungkook sleeps, blood slowly being transfused back into his strong body, Seokjin makes you some tea and he sits in the kitchen as you stand and sip, staring out the window at the rain.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks gently, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin. You haven’t even apologized for waking him so early.

“No,” you reply honestly, but then you tell him, as much as you can without compromising your mission. As if it hadn’t already gone to hell anyway. You talk and talk, and soon it’s not the details of the job you’re describing, soon it’s how things between you and Yoongi started, how they progressed, how they ended - in bullets and blood.

Seokjin is quiet once you run out of words. He drums his long fingers on his placemat, watching the spoon resting there as it bounces from the rhythm. “Well, to be honest, that’s not the worst break-up you’ve ever had,” he drawls after a few seconds.

“Fuck off,” you snap, but your lips twitch of their own accord. He’s not wrong. “It wasn’t a real relationship. It was all part of the plan.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin levels you with a sober look. “Then why are you here, wearing a groove into my kitchen floor with your pacing, while your partner drains my last bag of O neg? Was that part of the plan, too?” When you don’t respond, he plows on. “Because it seems to me that you went a little too deep this time. Got a little too entangled. Would you say that’s accurate?”

“Sir, yes sir,” you chirp sarcastically, saluting him with your middle finger. Seokjin’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, and for one brief second, you’re back in the field, joking with your friend, and not sitting in his house panicking while your mission goes up in flames. But then you hear Jungkook stirring in the other room, and Seokjin’s laughter fades as he rises to check on his patient.

Seokjin, as always, is right. You’d gone too deep this time. Let yourself believe the lie. As much as you didn’t want to admit that you could be compromised, you knew the truth. You’d fallen for Yoongi, and now you had to clean up the mess you’d made, before anyone else got hurt.

Even if it meant breaking your own heart.

Seokjin wanders back into the kitchen. “The transfusion is almost complete, but he’s gonna need to rest for a while longer.”

“Can he - “

“He can stay here, that’s fine.” Seokjin looks so tired. You wonder how you must look. Probably about half dead. “But what are you going to do now? Call for backup?”

You shake your head and reach into your satchel, pulling out the box from Yoongi’s safe. Inside, as you’d expected, lies a key.

“No. I’m gonna finish what I’ve started.” Jimin’s face flashes through your mind and your vision goes red. And then Yoongi’s, and your heart pangs, even as you make your vow. “I’m gonna bring him down.”

Yoongi hates this.

He hates hiding. His safe house isn’t nearly as luxurious as his other house or the vacation home he’d just bought on the bay. Most of the rooms here are nearly empty, save for a random couch or table. Except for the one room that is fully stocked with guns and ammunition, along with a small safe stashed with emergency cash. But beyond that, the house is bare. It’s not meant to be a long-term residence, he knows, but he hates it anyway.

He also hates not having his daughter with him. He’d called Da-som’s friend’s mother at dawn and told her that he had to go out of town for work suddenly and asked if she could look after her for a few days. Not having her by his side fills him with anxious energy, makes him want to claw his skin off. He hopes this won’t take more than a day or two.

But that. That’s the thing that he hates the most - not knowing. Not knowing where you are, or what your plan is, or how any of this will end. Makes him feel weak. Powerless. Like he used to be.

Like when Da-som’s mother left him.

He fucking hates feeling powerless. He will not go back.

From his perch on the table that serves as the sole furniture in this room, Jimin watches him stalk back and forth, like a tiger prowling his cage. He doesn’t say anything to Yoongi, likely not wanting him to bruise his throat again. Jimin’s developed a bit of a squeak when he laughs, and it has not amused him in the slightest. Although Yoongi thinks it’s pretty funny.

The burner phone in Jimin’s pocket buzzes and he flips it open. “Any sign?”

Yoongi halts in his tracks, waiting.

Jimin sighs. “Fine. Just keep looking.” He tosses his phone on the mahogany surface, merely shaking his head at the older man.

Yoongi resumes his steps. Where the fuck did you go? You couldn’t have gotten very far in Jungkook’s police cruiser. It never returned to the station, and Yoongi’s goons are sweeping the area under his orders. But even though he has everyone searching for you, you’re nowhere to be found.

“We’ll find them,” Jimin finally speaks. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“Time is running out,” Yoongi spits back. The longer you’re gone, the more likely it is that you’ve called in reinforcements. Set a trap in motion. He can’t just sit here and wait for the walls to close in on him.

He needs to move.

“Listen, I nailed the kid, so he’s undoubtedly slowing the two of them down. We’ve got guys watching the hospitals, the clinics, every medical center in a 100 mile radius - there’s no way they’ll get past us to get him some help.” Jimin smoothly slides off the table, brushing dust from the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “We just have to be patient.”

Yoongi immediately pounces forward, pressing Jimin back into the wall behind him. He doesn’t touch the younger man, but holds him in place with the intensity of his stare.

“No. I’ve been patient. For five fucking years now, I’ve waited to take my place at the top of the chain in this goddamn city. And now that I’m here, I’m not going to fucking hide and wait any longer. YN-” he curses silently at the slip-up, “she isn’t going to take everything from me.”

“What are you saying?” Jimin asks, wincing at Yoongi’s glare. The usual sociopathic gleam in Jimin’s eye is dimmed under the older man’s gaze. He’s terrified right now.

“There’s a key in that safe that she stole. It belongs to another box, where I have kept a very important list. Among other things.” If only he hadn’t kept that safe at his house. If only he hadn’t brought you there. If only you were who you said you were. “I’ve got to get to that list. It’s the only thing that she needs to bring this all down.”

“And you think you can get to it first?”

“No.” Yoongi laughs, a cold, ugly sound that sends chills down Jimin’s spine. “I’m sure she’ll beat me to it. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

For the first time in hours, Jimin grins. “Okay, so an ambush, then?”

Yoongi nods.

“You know I’m in. But… everything you just said, how you just got all this power…” Jimin pauses, considering his words very carefully, “are you prepared to lose it all just to beat her?”

“I’d rather lose it all in a blaze of glory than have that bitch steal it from me,” Yoongi retorts, ignoring the stab of pain in his chest when he snarls the word ‘bitch.’ Stop it, you pussy. Stop pretending like she means anything, he berates himself.

“Blaze of glory? Fuck yeah, let’s go.” Jimin pulls his handgun from his holster and cocks it.

Yoongi smirks. “Let’s burn.”

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#bts x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #min yoongi fanfic #bad cop!au #fic: burning down #possumswrite

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btsugarush · 1 year

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GANGSTA | myg - 002

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 3K

author’s note: sorry if you asked to be on the taglist and didn’t make it. i’ve reached over 50 and couldn’t add anymore people. i’ll add more of you in the comments.

“I’m glad you’re okay after all of that,” Jungkook says on the other end of your phone; you had just spilled about the chaotic situation at Makoto as it was still weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t shake what Jimin had said about that Yoongi guy killing someone, though it could have just been a rumor. If he had actually taken someone’s life there would be no way they would allow him to walk the streets. He’d be too much of a flight risk.

“You should really be careful in the future. I know you like to stand up for people that can’t stand up for themselves, but Yoongi is bad news. There’s no telling what he would’ve done to you on the wrong day.”

“So you know him too?” You quiz. It seemed as though everyone knew who this guy was besides you. Maybe you don’t get out enough. Or maybe you were just good at staying away from trouble– until this afternoon at least. “I know of him, but not personally. He came to the shop once like five months ago with the same tall guy you were talking about. He told my coworker Si-Woo to step outside, and the next thing you know he's pistol-whipping him nearly to death. Rumor around the shop was that Si-Woo sold drugs for Yoongi, and owed him a lot of money.”

“Really?” Your mouth drops in shock. “What did Si-Woo say about it?”

“He never talked about it, ended up quitting the next day, and told us ‘not to get the police involved because it wouldn’t be of any help and it was all just a misunderstanding’.” He quoted. “Well, three days later Si-Woo’s body was found hacked to pieces and stuffed in a suitcase behind an alley on Gongdan lane.”

You heard about that case on the news some time ago, but had no clue that Jungkook knew the victim on an intimate level. It honestly made you shiver a bit. Imagine being the one to discover the body, and how gruesome the sight must have been. Stuff like that was common in slum areas though. Crime was especially high in Gongdan lane of all places, which is why you made sure to never venture in that area. “You think Yoongi had something to do with his murder?”

Jungkook scoffed. “The guy was viciously pistol-whipping him three days before his body was identified. I know he had something to do with it, but none of us were willing to risk going to the cops, so we just moved on like it didn’t happen.” Jungkook pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “You know… sometimes I think that maybe we could’ve saved his life if we did report the incident. Sometimes I still look at his station and feel like he’s there, tattooing.” He sighs heavily, like it was a great weight lifted from his shoulders to even tell you.

“You did what you felt was necessary. As fucked up as it may seem, you had to think about what was best for you.” You try your best to comfort him as he seemed to hold on to a lot of guilt regarding Si-Woo’s death, and reminiscing didn’t help. To have the man who could have potentially murdered your friend roaming free to terrorize all of Daegu couldn’t be a great feeling. You felt for him.

“I know. It’s just fucked to know he went through such a fucked up death. I don’t even want to imagine how scared he must’ve been,” you could hear clanking on the other end, as though he was biting down on his lip piercing. “I don’t even like the thought of knowing you tangled with them. He seems the type to hold grudges, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d lose my shit and go after him myself.”

You smile softly. “And I just know you’d kick his ass, my tough Kookie.” You both laugh at the nickname, which is one of many you had with the word ‘cookie’ in it. You could be so cheesy sometimes, but Jungkook loved everything about it. “You don’t have to worry though, apparently he likes me so maybe I’m in the clear?” You say unsuringly, still not understanding what he meant by it. It was very abrupt and cryptic. “Well whatever he meant, he’s out of luck because you’re spoken for.”

“As if he’d ever had a chance to begin with, I don’t think I’d mesh well with a criminal,” You chuckled. “I’m more into sweet, sensitive guys with tattoos and piercings.”

“Yeah? I think I know someone like that.” You could tell that he’s cheesing on the other end, which made you cheese. Everything always felt so natural with Jungkook. Him being your best friend in high school really played hand in hand with that. He was no different from a lover than he was a best friend. You two were absolutely the same and you loved it.

“You should probably get some sleep now, Angel. You don’t want to go to work exhausted, and I don’t wanna be blamed for you oversleeping again.” You simply roll your eyes in a playful manner, but agree nonetheless. You couldn’t chance being up so late, Mr. Kim was very strict about being on time.

“I guess you’re right,” you pout. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get off work.”

“Okay, Angel. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kookie cake.” You pull your phone from your ear, ending the call before you get up from your bed to switch off your bedroom lights. You crawl back onto the mattress, pulling your blanket over your body. Picking your phone back up again, you swipe through your apps until you locate the clock app. You set your alarm to wake you up at 12:00 PM on the dot. Just as you were about to place your phone down on your nightstand, something overcame you and you got the urge to search Yoongi’s name on Google.

When you type in his name, you are shocked to see so many results come up effortlessly. Several different mugshots from several different instances, all dating from when he was a teenager to one that seemed recent. You click on the one that looks most recent, letting it redirect you to the Daegu booking website.

Name: Min Yoongi

Age: 30

BOOKING DETAIL

Status: Released

Building: Public Safety Building

Area: Maledorm

Booking number: 575857

Booking date: 3/26/2023 11:56:00 pm

ARRESTS

Arrest number: 680071205

Arrest date: 3/26/2023 10:06:00 pm

Arresting agency: Daegu Police Department

Agency case number: 25-18056

ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON

ATTEMPTED FIRST-DEGREE MURDER

POSSESSION WITH INTENT TO SELL

You read over the arrests in shock, completely dumbfounded by how a man of his caliber could be released from jail and not behind bars rotting for the rest of his life. He practically lived in jail anyway, why not just keep him there? You eye his mugshot, his intense stare giving you the chills. You didn’t need to wonder how the officer taking the photo must’ve felt considering you too have felt those daggers looking into the depths of your soul.

You pull your sight away from the photo, swiping away the page. You didn’t want to spend any more time on Yoongi. What happened at Makoto is behind you now. You just wanted to forget about the situation, and never run into Yoongi– or Joon for that matter, again. You plug your phone to your charger, sitting the device on your nightstand before you drift off to sleep.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Mr. Kim looks surprised as you step into the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook on the wall. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” You quirk a brow, tying the black fabric around your waist. “Because I thought you would’ve been too scared to show your face after going toe to toe with the devil’s minions the other day.”

You click your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe people were still on that. Just as you walked in you overheard a customer whispering ‘she’s still alive?’ to her friend. It’s absurd at this point. “I think everyone is blowing what happened yesterday way out of proportion.” You shake your head, grabbing a notepad and pen from the pencil holder.

“I’d like to say we are, kid, but you got lucky. That Yoongi is no joke to be played with. The guy is a menace. Some people say the only reason he’s not in jail is because he has affiliations within the police unit, and I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. Our system is corrupt.” The older man sighs. ‘Oh great, here he goes with politics and corruption again…’ you thought. You had better get out on the floor before you’re caught in a whirlwind of it.

You leave him to discuss the topic with himself as you step out onto the floor, and start taking customer orders. “Hey, you’re that crazy girl from yesterday.” A man says as you approach his table. You frown, already knowing what he was referring to, so you avoid it at all cost. “What can I get you?” You redirect the conversation.

“Oh! Uhhh,” he picks up the menu from his table, skimming through it. “I’ll have the Jajangmyeon.” He answers quickly. You scribble down his order. “Anything to drink?” You ask. “Ginseng tea, thank you.” He places the menu back on the table. You nod, taking down his drink. “Okay, I’ll be right back with that tea.” You smile kindly before heading back to the kitchen. You rip the orders from the notepad, clipping them to the ticket holder.

“Hey, kid. We’ve got a delivery order for dumplings.” Mr. Kim informs you as you’re preparing tea for the customer. The older gentleman approaches you, the order already made and secured in a brown bag. You take the bag from him, looking at the order ticket attached to it.

As you read over the address on the ticket, your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. ‘2357 Gongdan Lane’. “Um… Mr. Kim, this location is in the slums of Daegu.” You look at him with concern. “I know.” The man simply nods, taking the tickets you set from the holder. “Yeah, well, I can’t go to Gongdan lane. It’s dangerous, especially for me as a woman.”

“Look kid, I’m sorry. If Jimin was here I’d have him go but he doesn’t work on Saturdays and you’re my only worker.”

“Exactly. I’m the only worker, you need me to be at the shop taking orders.” You knew that wasn’t going to go over as it was a slow day, and there were hardly any customers in the shop to begin with. “I can handle the customers and cook the ramen until you get back.”

You couldn’t believe this. Just as you had prided yourself in never stepping foot in Gongdan, here was this old dirty bastard making you go. On top of that, the restaurant didn’t even own a company car for deliveries so you had to ride a bike. You read over the ticket again, noticing that there wasn’t even a name on the order. “There’s no name on the order, this could be a trick that ends with me getting robbed for free food.”

“All this time wasted on talking about it could be used on getting the delivery done. Stop complaining and do what you’re paid to do. The faster you get it done, the faster you can come back.”

You wanted to stomp your foot like a child and continue to protest, but you couldn’t risk your job by not listening so you did the only sensible thing you could do. Your job. You grab a plastic bag, shoving the brown one inside of it before leaving through the back exit in the kitchen. You spot the red delivery bike lying on the ground, and pick it up, looping the plastic bag around the bike handle.

As you mount the bicycle, you pull out your phone to use your GPS. The ride was about 12 minutes away. If you ride fast you could undoubtedly make it at least an 8 minute ride. You kick back the breaks and set off on your journey. During the ride as you make it into the slum area, you could truly see the separation from Sangsu-dong to Gongdan lane. The sidewalks were cracked and unpaved, the buildings looked more rundown, and homeless people laid out in sleeping bags.

You got an uneasy feeling as you noticed a group of men smoking weed on a corner and intensely watching you go by. You probably stood out like a sore thumb, riding through Daegu’s slummiest on a red bike. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward as you paid them no mind. As you continue going, you notice the streets become more isolated. Your GPS directs you to turn, which you follow only to come upon a big warehouse that looked abandoned. ‘You’ve arrived’, your GPS says. You furrow your brows, confusion written over your face.

“Stupid thing must’ve sent me to the wrong location.” You grab the bag of dumplings from the bike handle, circling around the warehouse just in case you were mistaken. You find a door on the other end, cameras surrounding it like it was a government building. You inspect the door, seeing that there was a red button of some sort on it.

You scope the perimeter, making sure no one was trying to sneak attack you. The whole thing seemed completely sketchy. You take a deep breath before pressing down on the button, a loud buzz coming from it. You take a step back, waiting for someone to come open the door. You stood there for about two minutes, not wanting to wait around any longer. You knew this was a scam. You should’ve just gone home and pretended like you delivered the food. It would’ve saved you the trouble. As you turn to walk back to the bike, the door suddenly opens with a loud creaking sound.

You direct your attention back to the door, locking eyes with an individual that you dreaded to ever see again. “Oh my god… i-it’s you…” you stutter in shock, seeing Yoongi stand in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wonder Woman, we meet again.”

You’re silent, not really saying a word as you feel too stunned to speak. “You got something for me, sweetheart?” His eyes darted to the bag in your hand. You snap from your fearful trance, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Uh… yeah. Here’s your order.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the bag, not wanting to come any closer. The raven reaches forward, his hand brushing yours as he takes the bag from you. You quickly turn away, rushing back over to your bike.

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday.” He says, following behind you. “I already know who you are.” You mumble as you mount the red two wheeler. “Really? You didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday. If you did, you wouldn’t have shot your pretty mouth off like that,”

He grabs the handles of your bike, preventing you from leaving. “You look scared. Guess my reputation precedes me.” He says almost too proudly. “Not in a way that a decent human being should want it to, but I guess decency isn’t what you’re aiming for.” you say slickly, which causes the raven to smile. “There goes that smart mouth again,” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving you the same predatory stare from yesterday. “Normally I wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting slick at the mouth with me, but from you it’s kind of a turn on.”

You scowl, ignoring his sexual advance. “Can you let go of my bike? I need to get back to work.”

“How about you let me drive you?” he offers, but you quickly decline. You’d be an idiot to get in the car with a proclaimed murderer. “I’ll take my chances on the bike, thank you.” The raven lets go of the handles, taking a step back to allow you to be on your way. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

You kick back the break, not wanting to waste any more of your time in Gongdan speaking to this thug. You back away from him, turning the bike to ride down the path you came. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.” He calls out. You come to an abrupt stop, looking back at the raven. How did he know your name? “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn’t need to. I have my sources and connections, Princess. Whatever I need or want, I get.”

You cringe at the nickname ‘princess’. Jungkook doesn’t even call you that, with all the cheesy nicknames he does use. Him knowing your name suddenly made you question how coincidental this whole encounter was. You were starting to wonder how much about you he knew. As if he read your mind, he starts to read you like an autobiography. “You were born in Busan and raised right here in Daegu, you’re an ex nursing student, an only child, both your parents passed away in a tragic car accident, your best friend is Sang Mina, and your boyfriend is… Jeon Jungkook? Am I right?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as he spoke information that only people close to you would know. You felt sick, creeped out even, but you tried not to display that on your face. “So, I guess you know my work schedule then. You set this little encounter up knowing that I was the only worker today, didn’t you?” the raven simply shrugged like he couldn’t answer whether that was true or not, but you knew that it was. “I don’t know what your deal is, but just stay away from me, okay?”

Yoongi sneered, as he turned on his heels, heading back to the door from once he came. The raven makes sure he gets the last word though.

“I can’t make you any promises, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever I want, I get.”

Taglist

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spookyserenades · 9 months

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Trouvaille - Chapter Eight

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; 23.4k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Annnd it's August!! We've come a full year (at least, since I've begun writing Trouvaille) and now the story is matching up with post dates 💃🏻 I hope you're all well! This update features some angst, and the final two scenting scenes.... one of which is particularly spicy, as a head's up! This chapter concludes the scenting arc, and after this, we'll be moving more quickly into other plotlines 🥳 There's also plenty of tender moments in this chapter, so I hope you'll enjoy those as well. As always, comments, feedback, questions, and even ranting/screaming is always welcomed! My inbox is open, as is the taglist. Without further ado, please enjoy this update!!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Jeongguk gracefully pulled back from her body, the agile movement allowing him to land backwards on the balls of his feet so he could lean against one of his bed posts, staring down at Y/N with lidded eyes. Adjusting the strap of her tank top back over her shoulder, Y/N frowned slightly when she realized the fabric covered his mark up. Jeongguk hummed, appearing to be gathering his thoughts before he resumed the conversation they were having prior to his… collapse.

“So, none of us particularly like Taehyung. I mean, that much is fucking obvious. Contrary to what you may have assumed, I think you’re a pretty smart girl– I’m sure you’ve picked up on all of us avoiding him like a virus,” Jeongguk began, a thoughtful look spreading across his face. Stunned by the compliment, Y/N felt herself flush from the neck upwards.

“Even so, he’s not a threat to us. If he wanted to kill any of us, he would have done it already. So really, there’s no reason for us… er, Namjoon, really, to knock his teeth down his throat. Yet. From what Yoongi told me about his little chat with the bear, Taehyung is in no hurry to befriend any of us yet– all the more reason for us to give him space,” Jeongguk adjusted the loose collar of his tee shirt as he spoke, before trudging on, “If things get sticky and there’s cops knocking on the front door somewhere down the line, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. We’re all keeping an eye on him in the meantime, but I’m confident he won’t hurt you, at the very least,” Jeongguk continued, watching Y/N carefully as she heaved her upper body up so she could sit up straight.

“So what you’re saying is… you’ve all decided to steer clear of Tae, but keep him under surveillance at all times? And all the while, he’s content with just keeping to himself? Is that right?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, the elk hybrid’s tapered ears flickering lazily as he nodded in response. “Is it wishful thinking to hope fights like that won’t happen again between any of you?”

Chuckling without responding to her inquiries, Jeongguk passed a tattooed hand over his face, moving to his wardrobe to pull some fresh sweatpants out of it. While his back was turned to her Y/N dragged her eyes up from his legs, over his muscular back, and to his mussed hair and antlers. His antlers were truly something to marvel at; though the scale of them were significantly smaller than were when Y/N first saw them while he was still in elk form. She wondered if that was some kind of trait scientists had worked into elk hybrid DNA. After all, it would be pretty difficult for Jeongguk to carry around the weight of full-scale elk antlers while shifted into human form. The shape of them seemed to encircle his head, perhaps another scientist’s idea, maybe to prevent others from colliding into the antlers accidentally, compared to the way if they’d branch out horizontally– taking up more sideways space. They were covered in a rich brown velvet and looked soft to the touch, Y/N staring at them unabashedly since his back was turned.

Squinting, she noticed the very tip of one of his antlers, one that was crooked like a tree, seemed to have a viscous liquid sluggishly rolling down the length of it, and as she leaned closer to get a look at it, Y/N realized it was blood. Stiffening, Y/N immediately got to her feet, rushing over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder without thinking. Jeongguk flinched in surprise, looking down at her with a scandalized expression as she got on her tip-toes to confirm that he was truly bleeding.

“Jeongguk, you’re bleeding! One of your antlers!” Y/N exclaimed, reaching her hand upwards to touch before stopping herself abruptly. She didn’t know if antlers, like hybrid ears, were sensitive, and didn’t want to risk him getting angry with her.

A noise of surprise fell from his lips, gripping his sweatpants in his fist and stalking towards his bathroom while mumbling to himself. Y/N followed after him hot on his heels, eyes on a spot of velvet covering his antlers that seemed to be beginning to peel away from the bony appendage. In the mirror, he turned his head in a few different directions, a deep grimace appearing on his face as a droplet of blood slipped down his antler and onto his cheek.

“Aw, fuck… its late August, I forgot about this bullshit. Don’t worry about it, I’m not hurt. My velvet’s just shedding,” Jeongguk groaned, using the back of his hand to smear the blood off of his face with annoyance. “Unfortunately, I’ll be walking around here for the next few days looking gory as hell, and it makes a goddamn mess.”

“How often does that happen?” Y/N asked, awed. Gripping the lip of his granite sink vanity, Jeongguk made eye contact with her reflection.

“Just once a year, usually around this time,” Jeongguk answered, spinning slowly so he could look down at her again. “Alright, let’s focus, here. I want to shower and sleep for at least four hours.”

Blushing, it dawned on Y/N that she was taking up a bit too much of his time especially after he had stayed up the entire night, clearing her throat. Part of her ached to ask more questions surrounding the particular subject of velvet shedding; such as if it was painful for him, but she bit her tongue.

“You’re right, okay. What else should I know?” Y/N inched backwards into his bedroom, the elk hybrid leaning his hip against his sink vanity. Out of the corner of her eye, she clocked the charm bag she had made him resting on his dresser, beside his notebook and the ruby rosary he’d used to get rid of that entity. He had half a mind to ask about it, one million questions begging for answers from the elk hybrid, but she had to keep it together, for now.

“Last night was a full moon. Namjoon is a wolf hybrid… Do you know what I’m trying to say?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes purposefully when Y/N shook her head with confusion.

“You know, how there’s that idea that wolves howl at the full moon and are riled up by it? Technically, it’s something of a circulated rumor, but I’m led to believe that there’s some truth in it. It’s not like he’s a werewolf or anything, so stop looking at me like that. I think a full moon just influences his mood, that’s all. He’s more agitated and moody than he’d be otherwise. This whole week leading up to the full moon the wolf has been acting bizarre, anyways; fine one moment, pissed off the next with no explanation as to why. It gave me whiplash, at first, before I put the pieces together.”

She was still staring at Jeongguk incredulously, trying to process that he was pretty much telling her the explanation for Namjoon’s behavior was adjacent to Hollywood lycanthrope lore. Her mother always used to tell her people tended to act a bit strangely on the nights of a full moon, but never really put much stock into the theory. If anything, it was a sort of flimsy excuse as to why Namjoon had totally flown off of the handle, but she’d take any information Jeongguk would give her gratefully.

“I suppose if that is true, certain things would make more sense to me,” Y/N began slowly, trying not to make any more funny faces at the elk hybrid or insult his insight. “I get what you mean. He’ll be willing to converse one minute and the next he’s either glaring at me or avoiding me like I’m the plague. You two worked together to get rid of that entity, and the following day you both had that little spat outside…”

“It’s his species. Wolf hybrids aren’t adopted very often, they’re extremely temperamental, territorial. He’s been trying to establish dominance over the rest of the house since he’s gotten here,” Jeongguk yawned, another trail of blood falling from his antler and running down the side of his face. He didn’t seem to notice. “Then again, none of the hybrids you’ve adopted find homes quickly, unless they plan on shooting us or something. Not many humans are comfortable with lions, tigers, and bears in their homes.”

Snorting at his Wizard of Oz reference, Y/N sobered up a bit. The sad reality that she had only come to adopt her hybrids because no one else had wanted them, apart from someone looking to hunt them down for sport, had her stomach churning. Hybrids that were spliced with domesticated animal DNA were always the popular choice for the average potential adopting owner looking for companionship, as most people knew how to handle animals such as cats, dogs, and rabbits. The behavior of a jaguar hybrid was quite different than any house cat hybrid she had ever met. She thought it wise to order some guidebooks online that night; if she hadn’t known about Jeongguk’s velvet shedding, or Namjoon’s sensitivity to the moon cycle, what else didn’t she know?

“A lot of humans are just evil. Honestly, I’m surprised that they haven’t passed a law making hybrid hunting illegal. Makes me think some of these lawmakers partake in it themselves,” Y/N seethed, the primal urge to protect her hybrids coming back to her again. It seemed to be a frequent emotion, especially in the past 24 hours. “Alright, let me get out of your hair, or I’ll go on a tangent. Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah, I think that’s it. They’re probably going to be pretty pitiful when you go down to confront them, just warning you. They know they fucked up, neither of them want to upset you any further, so you should be good. You might need to patch them up a bit, they both got a few good blows to the face. Reeks of blood in here,” Jeongguk sighed, flicking the light on in his bathroom, turning the shower tap on as he spoke.

Growing antsy, Y/N decided it was time to get a move on before Jeongguk started stripping in front of her, knowing that he wasn’t exactly above that. She had a feeling Jeongguk knew exactly how much he affected her. With a jolt, her brain registered that it was highly likely that all of the hybrids in the house heard the pitiful noises she made when they scented her. It was slightly embarrassing, but there was nothing she could do about it. It probably wasn’t even something they thought twice about.

“Right, so I’m going to go talk to them, I guess… clean them up. Please get some rest, then come get some food, okay? Oh, and thank you, again, for everything. You’re sweeter than you look, Jeongguk,” Y/N couldn’t help but to tease him a little bit, Jeongguk snapping his head around as he was checking the water temperature and sending her an unimpressed grimace. She could see a whisper of amusement in his midnight eyes, however.

With that, Y/N offered Jeongguk a sincere smile before shutting his bedroom door and setting off down the hall. Mindlessly brushing a hand over the shoulder he had scented, Y/N felt her skin flushing as she thought about how brazen he had been, and how he was able to just switch it off in a flash and resume civil conversation with her. It was a bit disorienting, she thought, swiping the first aid kit she’d dumped on the bottom step of the staircase before running up to talk to Jeongguk.

Taking several breaths, Y/N started the short distance down the hall to Namjoon’s bedroom. The door was open; light from his large windows flooding out into the hallway, and Y/N hesitated as she approached the doorway. She could tell both of them were in there, the sounds of heavy books being slid back into their spots on the bookshelf and the ruffling of clothes being folded telling her so. Swallowing down her nerves, Y/N entered the room.

Namjoon was by the bed, which had been made already, folding all of the clothes he had torn out of his wardrobe. He was facing the window, away from her, but his ears were flat against his skull and his shoulders were drooped, so she knew he was aware of her presence. They had almost completely restored the room to how it was before all hell had broken loose the previous night, the blood on the floor mopped away, each item on Namjoon’s desk placed back in their rightful spots. Taehyung was staring at her from the book shelf, looking from her face to the medical kit in her hand while he cautiously placed a clothbound book about candle magic back in place.

“Morning,” Y/N greeted evenly, wanting to ease into the scolding as best she could. Judging by the thick cloud of doom in the room she had walked into, both of them already felt bad enough.

Entering the bedroom a bit further, she eyed Taehyung, who had hung his head and started to lift another book off of the floor. He’d changed into a fresh outfit, but looked disheveled and sleep deprived. She placed the first aid kit on Namjoon’s bed, standing a few feet from him as she unzipped it slowly.

Namjoon was surreptitiously avoiding her eyes, Y/N watching him fold a pair of jeans with his knuckles bloodied and bruised. He had thrown on sweats and a simple white tee shirt, and had apparently showered with his damp silver hair pushed back from his face, but like Taehyung, his appearance was tired and out of sorts. Silently, she scooped up the small armful of clothes he had folded, placed them back into his wardrobe, and marched back to her spot beside him.

“Come here, both of you. I want to clean up your injuries before they get infected,” Y/N commanded firmly, pointing at the bed she wanted them to sit on. “And, we need to talk. Or, I can talk and you can listen.”

Taehyung moved promptly, though rather leisurely, sitting on the foot of Namjoon’s bed. In consequence, the wolf hybrid sprung out of the way, nearly knocking Y/N over in the process. Gritting her teeth, she waited for Namjoon to sit down on the mattress a few feet from Taehyung with reluctant obedience. He still wouldn’t look at her.

Slipping into injury evaluation mode, Y/N assessed their wounds while trying to remove her emotions with great difficulty in doing so. Both had torn and bruised knuckles; Namjoon had a nasty cut over his right eyebrow and a split lip, Taehyung’s cheekbone and jaw was bruised and it looked like he might have bitten through his lip with his teeth when Namjoon had directed a blow there. Tutting, Y/N got to work by beginning to load up some cotton rounds with disinfectant.

“You two don’t have to be best friends, hell, you don’t even have to like each other. But you cannot get physically violent like that, no matter how you rationalize its justification. It’s not fair to the others that they were forced to break up your fight last night.”

Y/N knelt in front of Namjoon, who was closest to her, taking one of his hands that was gripping his knees and arranging his digits to be splayed over hers, dabbing away caked-on blood with the cotton round as she spoke. His hand was limp in hers, like he had resigned to being touched, and she could finally feel his amber stare on her even as she focused on his injured hand. He didn’t react to the stinging sensation of the disinfectant, even when she moved over to his dominant hand that had the brunt of the damage to the knuckles. She was erring on the side of being especially gentle with her ministrations, considering they were paired with a bit of a scolding.

“What would have happened if they weren’t here? If it was just the three of us, would you have fought until one of you got knocked out or killed? You know I can’t break up a physical altercation between any of you, you’re hybrids. Stronger and faster than me, sharper instincts, and you’re men on top of it all,” Y/N continued, rising from her knees to sit in between the two of them. “I know you’re both more than capable of having a conversation to hash out conflict. The violence was unnecessary, and it really broke my heart to see you two like that.”

The solemn vocalization of her feelings echoed about the room hollowly. She motioned for Taehyung to give her his hands while she saturated another cotton ball with fresh disinfectant. He slid his hand into hers easily, remaining eerily quiet as she cleaned him up. Surprisingly, both hybrids hadn’t made an attempt to respond to her in any way, almost making her feel guilty for even attempting to admonish them in the first place, but she knew she had to put her foot down before things escalated again. There was not a cell in her body that wanted to be patching up wounds inflicted by each other in the near future, and she was making that clear.

Pulling out some Neosporin, Y/N swiftly applied it to both hybrid’s hands, taking a few moments to collect her thoughts. The room was deathly silent, Y/N getting the feeling both of them were holding their breath. Shocked that Namjoon was letting her touch him this much, Y/N let out a ragged sigh, ready to wrap their hands before moving onto their faces.

“Namjoon, could you pass me that roll of gauze, please?” Y/N murmured, squeezing his palm lightly as she dabbed ointment on the knuckle of his right index finger, the most mangled one of all. Clearing his throat, Namjoon rummaged around in the kit, the roll of gauze appearing before her face at once. “Thank you.”

“Y/N… I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered suddenly, Y/N motions wrapping the gauze around Namjoon’s hand methodically pausing for a moment. “I started it, shoving Namjoon. It spun out of control from there.”

Namjoon’s grip on her hand tightened as he grunted lightly, Y/N peering up at him curiously. There was a deep frown on his face, knowing that Taehyung was taking a bit too much of the blame. She finished wrapping up his hands, turning to Taehyung to do the same. She still had their faces to work on, Y/N clocking the dried blood crusted onto the sharp edge of the Kodiak hybrid’s jawline.

“I shoved him first,” Namjoon muttered, remorse dripping from his tone ever so slightly. Stunned, Y/N gawked at Namjoon through her peripherals while trying her best to steadily wrap Taehyung’s hand, looping the gauze around his thumb and back over his palm.

“Please, just– can you both try to avoid fighting like that? It makes me sad, seeing you two beat up like this. Please promise me you won’t do something like this again. No more violence in this house,” Y/N finished what almost felt like a parental spiel, dropping the gauze in her lap as she got up from her seat between them.

She was met with two pairs of eyes hesitant to lock with her own, and Y/N wondered what some of the others had said to them to get them to such a somber state of mind. Taehyung nodded, looking at his feet, while Namjoon’s ears drooped even further downwards.

“Alright, I’m done scolding. I’ll get some washcloths from the bathroom, fix up your faces,” Y/N brightened her tone a few degrees, spinning on her heel and disappearing into Namjoon’s en suite.

She returned after a couple of short moments, two warm washcloths in her hands as she stood in front of the wolf hybrid. Finally, he looked her in the eyes, his as unreadable as always, Y/N gripping the cloth in her hand before leaning down a bit to scan his face. Sighing sadly, she used her free hand to tuck a couple of fingers under his chin, tilting his face upwards and to the side so she could begin to blot away at the dried blood crusted around his eyebrow. While he definitely grew rigid with her close proximity and touch, Namjoon allowed her to clean up his face gently.

Cupping his jaw with her hand, Y/N dabbed all of the blood off of Namjoon’s brow, cheekbone, and finally his split lower lip as tenderly as she could, all while avoiding getting lost in his turbulent gaze. She tried to work quickly; the silence around her was absolutely deafening, and she was well aware that Namjoon wasn’t exactly keen on receiving physical touch.

“Okay, Namjoon… looks like you’ll just need a bandage over your eyebrow,” Y/N murmured absently, peeling the paper from plastic of a butterfly bandage to apply over the site. No matter what, both hybrid’s injuries would likely disappear within two days with their healing capabilities. “Sit still for me, won’t you?”

Y/N gently requested the latter part of her statement, noting that Namjoon was slightly squirming in his seat, his fluffy silver tail beating against his mattress periodically. He didn’t appear to like obeying orders from her, Y/N able to spot that from his body language a mile away, but did so without an utterance of a complaint. He really must have felt bad about his behavior the previous night.

“I… shouldn’t have said those things to you last night,” Namjoon vocalized out of the blue as she was smoothing the bandage over his brow bone. “I’m… sorry. Uh, hmm. Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t actually think of you in that, um, way.”

Namjoon spoke as if it was the first time he was tasting a genuine apology on his tongue, the words clunky and awkward in his mouth. Even still, Y/N could detect the sincerity in them, even if it was the most bizarre way she had ever been apologized to. She kept in mind Jimin and Jeongguk’s theories that he hadn’t had much practice in being around sensitive emotions. She wondered if the speculation on his file that he had been a hybrid raised in the wilderness was actually true, based on his difficulty with dealing with certain emotional situations, but brushed it aside for later as she used a clean finger to spread some Neosporin onto his swollen cut lip. She didn’t miss the tiny intake of breath that came from him as her finger traced over the soft flesh.

The apology hung in the air heavily as she figured out how to respond. She’d pretty much forgiven Namjoon already, after his display of contrition and Jeongguk’s speculation that the full moon may have agitated him into volatility. As seconds ticked by and he was left without a reply, Y/N moving away from him to toss the bandage wrapper in the trash by his desk and the bloodied washcloth in the hamper, Namjoon began to fidget uncomfortably again. Humming, she turned back to him, reaching out to graze across his cheek softly. He stilled at the touch, pupils blown wide.

“I know. I forgive you, Namjoon,” Y/N smiled softly as she brushed her thumb over his elegant cheekbone, hoping that this event wouldn’t encourage the wolf hybrid to build up even stronger walls around himself. “Let’s try to put this behind us. Okay?”

Dropping her hand from Namjoon’s face, she turned her attention to Taehyung sitting stoically on the bed, his tongue peeking out from between his lips to try and get rid of some of the crusted-on blood at the corner of his mouth. Using the remaining clean rag, Y/N gingerly washed away the blood around his mouth, the Kodiak hybrid flinching as she passed over the tender, bruised area by his jaw. She quickly mumbled out an apology, using her palm to brush his curls off of his forehead to make sure the area was without injury. There was a small scrape by his hairline, Y/N dabbing away at it with a sigh.

“You got each other pretty good, huh? If we ever have an intruder, I’d actually feel bad for that son of a bitch,” Y/N attempted to lighten the mood, tired of simmering in angst and gloom.

Though neither of them chuckled at her joke, Y/N felt Taehyung’s posture loosen up a bit from beneath her. He didn’t need any bandages on his face, so Y/N expertly disinfected the wounds and finished up with the Neosporin. She ruffled Taehyung’s curls back into their place, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze before packing up the first aid kit.

“I think you’ve put this place back together well enough, you two should eat and take it easy the rest of the day, maybe get some space. Just find me later and I’ll refresh the gauze on your hands,” Y/N slung the strap of the kit over her shoulder, motioning for them to stand and follow her out into the kitchen. When she was patching up Namjoon’s face, she heard his stomach grumbling, and wanted the both of them to have a proper breakfast. “Yoongi made these really yummy pastries, perfect for fall coming up… some kind of hash, as well.”

The mention of pastries seemed too tempting to pass up for Namjoon not to stand from the bed and inch towards the door, Taehyung following close behind. Smiling, Y/N felt them waiting for her as she returned her kit to the closet beneath the stairs. She noticed Namjoon’s ears finally perked up after being flat against his skull for so long, a few shades of color coming back to his complexion. Taehyung remained a touch grim, shuffling beside Y/N silently as they headed for the kitchen.

Only Yoongi remained in the room, Jimin and Seokjin’s plates cleared away as they obviously fled to other parts of the house, perhaps to nap or wash up. The leopard hybrid was busy stacking leftover pastries onto a platter, the kitchen polished to a shine. Stiffly, both Namjoon and Taehyung took seats at the opposite ends of the kitchen; the former perching on a barstool, the Kodiak hybrid sliding into the booth of the breakfast nook.

“There’s still some hash left. Though, I’m not really in the mood to share it with either of you,” Yoongi said as soon as Namjoon sat across from where the leopard hybrid was standing and arranging pastries onto the platter, Y/N snickering lightly.

Now close by Yoongi’s side, Y/N attempted to butter him up a bit so he’d concede and let the other two eat. He peered down at her curiously, the curiosity quickly replaced by suspicion as she batted her eyelashes at him and placed a hand on his forearm. He looked pretty with his hair tied back, displaying several shiny silver hoops dangling from his ears, the tips of which were blushing pink.

“Yoongi, come on, can’t you share a little? You made so much. I want another cinnamon roll, too, anyways,” Y/N pouted, really laying it on thick. She hypothesized Yoongi was pretty easy to convince if teasing was involved, his tail flicking furiously behind him as he stared down at her hard.

“Fine,” Yoongi grumbled, Y/N letting go of his forearm with a satisfied hum. “But I’m not serving them. Get it yourselves.”

Yoongi eyed the other two hybrids in the room with contempt, all while placing the pastry with the most cinnamon and icing on it on a plate, offering it to Y/N promptly. He was too cute, and too sweet, for his own good, she thought.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” Y/N took the plate gratefully, smiling at him brightly as she immediately dove into the pastry.

She remained by his side, as he placed plastic wrap over the leftover pastries, though not before Namjoon was able to swipe one from where he was sitting. The wolf hybrid winced as the split skin of his lower lip stretched to take a bite, Yoongi chuckling lightly and shaking his head.

“Serves you right,” the leopard hybrid muttered, Y/N stepping on his foot as soon as the words left his mouth. In retaliation, his tail flicked back furiously enough to smack the back of her thigh, forcing a muffled squeak out of her mouth stuffed full with pastry.

Taehyung had filled up a plate with hash wordlessly, returning to the breakfast nook to eat by himself. After she was done with her cinnamon roll, Y/N decided to refill Yoongi’s coffee mug for him, ambling over to the coffee bar. She happened to peer out the kitchen slider window, a flash of something colorful outside catching her eye. Startled, she set Yoongi’s mug down, getting closer to the window.

“Oh my gosh! Is that Hoseok?” Y/N exclaimed, spotting the vibrant orange coat of a lean fox scampering around the backyard playfully. Foxes didn’t typically come out during the day time, and Y/N could hardly remember the last time one had visited her backyard.

“Yeah. I think he wanted to blow off some steam. Seokjin should be out there with him too,” Yoongi replied from across the kitchen, putting some condiments back into the refrigerator. “It’s not too often hybrids like to shift more than necessary, it’s more comfortable to be in our human forms. But being in animal form has its uses, mainly to expend any pent-up energy.”

Following Hoseok’s quick movements around the back yard with eager eyes, Y/N could barely keep track of him. Another noise of exclamation came from her as a separate form came into her view– a blue-black jaguar, slinking lazily around the hedges leading further back into the property. The sight was startling, of course, even though she knew it was only Seokjin. A childlike giddiness welled up inside of her as she watched the two hybrids explore the backyard, wondering if it would be alright for her to go outside and take a look at them more closely.

“Why don’t you go out there? Unless you prefer gawking from afar,” Yoongi’s voice echoing her inner thoughts was suddenly much closer to her, taking his refilled mug from the coffee bar with a wry grin.

“Would it be okay? I mean, I don’t want to bother them or anything, if they’re trying to blow off steam,” Y/N questioned, Yoongi looking highly amused.

“I doubt you’d be bothering them. Just make sure you turn around when they shift back, so you don’t get flashed,” Yoongi confirmed, pointing to the lawn chairs with both hybrid’s sets of clothes, folded neatly.

Scandalized, Y/N felt her face become as hot as an iron, though the desire to potentially interact with Seokjin and Hoseok while they were shifted greatly outweighed her embarrassment towards Yoongi’s comment. She could hear Namjoon muttering from his seat several feet away, Y/N yanking the slider door open excitedly before she could stop herself. She knew that Yoongi would be able to handle any bickering between the other two, and definitely nip it in the bud, so she left the three of them in the kitchen without too much worry.

The temperature outside was boiling and only growing hotter, Y/N cursing as she stepped out into the sunlight on the patio. Autumn’s arrival had never been so anticipated by her, especially as she began to perspire as soon as she felt the heat on her skin. She could no longer spot Seokjin, but could see Hoseok, who had paused his energetic sprints around the backyard to stand statue-still, staring at her with his head cocked.

Hoseok was a beautiful fox, his coat a glossy sunset color, his frame athletic and larger than most foxes she had seen before. Even from afar, she could now confidently tell that it was Hoseok, his clever eyes remaining and glowing even in his animal form. All she could think to do was wave, swearing she could hear Yoongi’s laughter from inside of the house, but it was one of the last things on her mind. Before she could even gather her thoughts enough to ask Hoseok to come closer, he did.

Hoseok bounded over to her, a noise of delight tearing from her lips as he sped past her in a flash, circling around her form joyfully while chittering softly. Y/N couldn’t believe she had an opportunity to interact with a fox so closely, Hoseok continuing to dash around her as if to dare her to try and catch him. Giggling, Y/N sunk her knees down into the sweet-scented warm grass, hoping he’d approach her once she lowered herself down. It was strange, to keep in mind that she wasn’t dealing with a wild animal, but with Hoseok, her charming and sunny fox hybrid.

“Hoseok, are you having fun? It’s not too hot out here for you?” Y/N cooed, trying her best to track his movements as he circled closer and closer around her body kneeling in the grass.

Hoseok chirped from behind her, Y/N feeling the bristly brush of his tail against the back of her arm as he got nearer than ever, until he made his final semi-circle to face her more fully. By the way she was sitting, Hoseok’s face was only an inch or so below her chin, Y/N able to count the black whiskers on his snout.

“You’re awfully cute like this, you know?” Y/N couldn’t help but comment, fingers twitching to reach out and scratch under his chin. She found it easy to tease Hoseok when his sharp tongue was unable to quip back, the fox hybrid leaning back on his haunches and staring at her inquisitively.

All at once, Hoseok stretched forward, his body laying down in the grass and his face settling down on Y/N’s knees. Trying not to squeal at the sensation of soft fur of his face brushing her knees as his chin settled in her lap, Y/N froze, her hands hovering mid-air as Hoseok made himself comfortable.

“Oh boy. Cozy, Hoseok?” Y/N chuckled, still refraining from indulging her desire to bury her fingers into Hoseok’s lustrous fur, as difficult as it was. Still, she couldn’t help but ask, at the very least. “Can I touch?”

Of course, Hoseok was unable to answer in his shifted state, but he nuzzled his face further into the bare skin of her thighs, tail swishing behind him languidly. Taking his reaction to her words as a go-ahead, considering he hadn’t yanked himself away, Y/N promptly buried a hand in the silky fur between his ears.

Immediately, she massaged through the fur, lightly scratching Hoseok’s scalp with her fingernails as his eyes slipped shut with the sensation. Like always, she avoided the hybrid’s ears out of consideration for their sensitivity, stroking down from the crown of his head to between his shoulder blades. In her lap, Hoseok had become a boneless heap, enjoying every touch she had to offer, his breath coming out in short pants wafting over the skin of her legs.

She must have hit a sweet spot right behind one of his ears, Hoseok shuddering as his eyes snapped open. Kneading her fingers into the spot a bit more firmly in response, a tiny growl came from the fox, the pink of his tongue flashing before her eyes as he dragged it in a long strip over her thigh. Jolting at the velvety, wet sensation, Y/N’s cheeks were flaming, though she wasn’t exactly surprised that Hoseok was teasing her even while fully shifted into his fox form.

“Cheeky boy,” Y/N muttered, still stroking the soft fur behind his ears as she looked away from him, trying to find Seokjin in the tall grasses and weeds making up the backyard. “Hmm… where’s my Seokjin, huh?”

Mostly talking to herself, her hand slipped away from Hoseok’s crown as he sat up, head turned towards the large tree by the picnic table. Slow blinking at her through his peripherals, Y/N followed his gaze, squinting at the tree a little ways in the distance. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, the thick branches of the ancient oak tree cloaking the picnic table in ample shade, the vibrant green leaves rustling with the dry breeze. Taking a closer look once Hoseok nudged his nose towards it, Y/N scanned the crooked branches stretching across the sky as she got to her feet to follow Hoseok trotting over to the tree.

“Oh!” Y/N squeaked, finally managing to see what Hoseok was trying to show her. Seokjin had climbed the tree, resting on a particularly thick branch lazily.

One of his arms was dangling off of the branch, Y/N gulped at the razor-sharp claws hanging in front of her face. Hoseok barked out a strange sound close to the word wow, pawing at the tree trunk as Seokjin placidly opened his eyes, peering down at her and the fox hybrid. Her pulse was racing, not being able to get over being near such a large (and usually lethal) cat. In one fell swoop, Seokjin elegantly jumped down from the branch, Y/N stumbling backwards in shock as he landed in front of her. The impact he made with the soft grass was barely audible, Seokjin incredibly light on his feet for his size; considering his stocky build and strong musculature. Trying not to stare at his fangs as Seokjin returned Hoseok’s vocalizations with a hoarse, guttural noise, Y/N watched as Hoseok got in the jaguar’s face and began to screech, as foxes do when engaging in fights.

“Uh oh. Are you two fighting now?” Y/N giggled, Hoseok immediately clamming up and sitting down to stare at her. “Aren’t you best friends, though?”

Seokjin pulled away from Hoseok, stalking towards Y/N. Doing her best to remain still, she allowed Seokjin to approach her without shying away– his copper-penny eyes boring into her intensely. To her great surprise, Seokjin ducked his head, nudging Y/N’s palm and apparently attempting to get her to pet him. A soft exclamation fell from her mouth, her fingertips smoothing over his skull while he leaned up into the touch with a feral purr. She kept repeating in her mind– it was her sweet, gentle Seokjin, the one who held her until she fell asleep the previous night, not a wild jaguar that might take her hand off.

“So pretty,” Y/N breathed, getting a good look at Seokjin’s blue-black coat.

Darker fur along his torso was decorated with rosettes, and his coat was glossy, but Y/N did not miss some of the old scars littering his body, much like the ones she had noticed the day she had adopted him and treated the wound on his side. Biting down on her lip, Y/N focused on scratching behind Seokjin’s ears, him seeming to enjoy it just as much as Hoseok had by the way he was rubbing his face against her thigh. Using her free arm to swipe sweat off of her forehead, Y/N ached to head back into the AC, even being in the shade wasn’t enough to convince her to spend any more time outside. Hoseok began to pant as he sniffed around the oak tree, the heat surely taking a toll on him as well.

“Guys, we should head in. It’s too hot out here to be out for very long, and I’m dying for a popsicle or something. Care to join?” Y/N cupped Seokjin’s face, scratching below his ears soothingly as she spoke. His eyes were shut, turning to putty in her hands.

Hoseok promptly scampered to the patio where he had left his clothes, Y/N trailing after him with Seokjin close behind. The latter seemed a little disappointed that she had to stop petting him in order to follow Hoseok, but he trudged beside her quietly regardless. Reaching the scorching-hot pavingstones of the patio, Y/N heard the slider door yank open, but was too busy staring at the fox and jaguar in front of her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to being so close to apex predators like that, willing to be pet and doted on.

Her vision cut out as a sinewy hand pressed over her eyes, another gripping her waist as she was pulled into someone’s chest abruptly. Squealing, Y/N grabbed at the wrist keeping her waist in place, the scent of vanilla and mulled spice filling her senses.

“I told you to turn around, or you’d get flashed. Those two are shameless,” Yoongi whispered into her ear, Y/N shivering at the paired sensation of his hair brushing against her neck and his gravelly voice from inches away. Even though she tried to squirm away from the leopard hybrid, his grasp on her was ironclad, keeping her firmly in place with her back against his chest.

“Hey, Yoongi, you’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack, sneaking up on her like that,” Hoseok’s voice finally rang out in the humid air, Yoongi’s clamp over her eyes only growing firmer.

“Put some pants on, Foxy. Standing there chastising me with your junk out, have a little decency or self respect, at the very least,” Yoongi replied gruffly, Y/N all but melting into his chest with the proximity and the timbre of his voice.

“Oh, like what you see, kitty?” Hoseok shot back over a mouthful of laughter, the sounds of fabric sliding over flesh from a few feet away heightened with one of her senses robbed from her.

“You never seem to run out of shit to say, huh?” Yoongi griped, his pinky finger threading through one of the belt loops in her denim shorts. For some reason, the action felt incredibly intimate. “Your fly is down, Seokjin.”

All at once, Yoongi’s hand dropped from her face, Y/N blinking rapidly as bright sunlight burned her eyes once her sight was returned to her. Yoongi maintained his grip on her waist almost possessively, and she knew the sweat rolling down the back of her neck suddenly had nothing to do with the heat outside.

As her eyes focused, she caught Seokjin tugging up the zipper on his jeans, his broad shoulders straining against the white tee shirt he’d shrugged on haphazardly. Gulping, she averted her stare as Hoseok clomped over to her with his plastic slides slapping the paving stone patio, cocking his head to look at her inquiringly.

“How did the scolding go? Tail between their legs? Not that Taehyung has much of a tail, in the first place,” he asked dryly, the expanse of his dewy golden skin exposed by a flimsy muscle tee (that he must have picked up at the mall) catching sunlight and dazzling her.

“Foxy,” Yoongi’s tone had a warning edge to it, his hand finally retreating from Y/N’s waist as he pulled the slider door back open, a rush of cool air flooding out into the patio space. “Shut it, already.”

“Yoongi, honey, it’s alright… everyone deserves to be filled in,” Y/N insisted, motioning for both him and Hoseok to head into the house before her, Yoongi’s tail going ramrod straight at the sound of his name being called. “Everything went smoothly in my opinion, Hoseok. I’m hoping that this incident won’t be repeated, I can’t bear the thought of seeing any of you hurt like that again.”

“You’re being mushy, again, silly girl,” Yoongi chortled between words in front of her, Y/N noting that both Namjoon and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen.

Muttering under her breath over Yoongi’s incessant need to poke fun at her, she shut the door behind Seokjin, who was smiling at her so kindly that she thought she’d fall over at the way his full lips tugged into the saccharine shape. It was difficult to grasp just how breathtakingly beautiful Seokjin truly was without even trying, donning such a simple outfit and nearly dripping with sweat. She had to tear her eyes from him promptly in order not to dwell on that fact for too long.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, so I’m a sap, whatever! Anyways, thank you guys for everything last night… helping with the cleanup after the cookout, intervening during the incident– all of it,” Y/N passed a forearm over her dewy forehead, mind on peeling wallpaper off of the second floor hallways– when she was upstairs earlier, she realized the paper had pulled from the walls in large sheets due to the recent heatwave, even with the new AC system pumping through the house.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re overly forgiving?” Hoseok poked Y/N in the shoulder as he leaned over the island they had congregated at, a devilish grin revealing his sharpened incisors. “No, wait. Alice said you’re ‘known to be too trusting’, if I remember her words correctly from that phone call you had last week.”

“H-hoseok!” Y/N squeaked, her face coloring with mortification. Simply shrugging, Hoseok traced patterns into the granite of the island countertop, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Al–”

“Hoseok, didn’t you want to show me how to use the sauna? Quit the wiseass act, for once,” Seokjin vocalized abruptly, his fingertip and thumb tugging at Hoseok’s russet ear sharply. At the contact, Hoseok braced himself on the granite with a swiftly masked dark grimace, springing into action.

“You’re lost without me, Jinnie,” Hoseok choked, his hands trying to grasp at Seokjin’s tail as the jaguar hybrid lured him out of the kitchen and in the direction to the basement. “Hey! Where’d you learn the word ‘wiseass’, anyway? I didn’t teach you that!”

As Hoseok’s voice faded, Y/N was left staring at Yoongi’s silhouette illuminated by the fridge light as he rummaged around in the drawers, his ears fluttering with each subtle move she made rounding the counter as she reached his side. The leopard hybrid was silent until he happened upon what he was looking for; sending a smirk over his shoulder at Y/N.

“Here, have a drink. Hot out there, huh?” Yoongi tossed Y/N a bottle of electrolyte water, which she miraculously caught mid-air. Uncapping it, she took several greedy swigs, narrowing her eyes at the leopard hybrid’s smug expression.

“You know? You’re a real wiseass yourself, Yoongi,” Y/N accused, just about fed up with his borderline flirtatious banter. “Come on, let’s watch a movie or something… I’ll put on something boring, so you can take a nap. You’ve been up pretty much all night, regardless of what you told me this morning.”

Yoongi watched her carefully as she finished her drink, even allowing her to tow him along to the parlor entrance from the kitchen with her hand wrapped around his dainty wrist. Supposing she could save the wallpaper-peeling endeavor for the next day, perhaps when it wasn’t so hot, she decided to spend some personal time with the hybrids after the chaotic day before, Y/N felt Yoongi’s tail occasionally curl around the back of her knee as she dragged him to the parlor. She was pleased to discover Jimin occupying the room already, freshly showered and perky, poised in the leather recliner as they entered the room, a Star Wars movie playing on cable. It was clear that Jimin didn’t know how to fully operate the TV and remote control yet; distinct confusion painted all over his features.

“Jimin, sweetheart, want to watch something else? If this isn’t up your alley, let’s change it!” Y/N declared, swiping the remote from the coffee table once situating a limp Yoongi against one of the couch armrests. The leopard hybrid was pretty much half asleep by the time she had towed him into the parlor room, much to her delight– he was adorable when he was sleepy.

“Ah, I hate to be a bother, Y/N,” Jimin murmured, barely above a whisper to accommodate Yoongi’s clear drowsiness. His sandy ears remained alert, his expression clear, leading Y/N to believe he may have gotten a decent night’s sleep even after the events of the previous night.

“Shh, Jimin, you’ll never be a bother,” Y/N assured speedily, flicking through her digital movie stash in search of something that may intrigue the coyote hybrid; and after a few moments she spotted something that could potentially spark his interest (not to mention, potentially bore Yoongi to unconsciousness). “Oh! I think you might enjoy this– Casablanca. Old Hollywood, with its charms and all!”

Jimin leaned forward on his seat, eager butterscotch eyes roaming over the film’s description. She had kept in mind his taste in literature– Joan Didion’s ode to some of the gripes of Hollywood in Play It as It Lays– and ran with it. While the film wasn’t necessarily similar to the book he had brought with him from Montana, it was Old Hollywood, and Jimin struck her as someone who preferred a classic to a flashy space movie. As per usual, Jimin’s emotions were easy to read, and he was obviously curious.

“Looks entertaining, Y/N. I’ll gladly watch it with you,” Jimin shot her his award-winning smile, Y/N hardly able to press play with the reception of the gesture. The added fact that he had finally dropped the “Miss” from her name had her heart racing, to boot.

The film began to roll fuzzily on the flatscreen, furthering Yoongi’s relaxation into the couch cushions. Y/N took it upon herself to spread a knitted throw over the leopard hybrid, hoping that the action would convey her deep gratitude for talking to Taehyung the night before. Whatever he had said, clearly it had worked some magic in calming the Kodiak hybrid down.

It was incredibly peaceful; enjoying an old movie, with a drowsy Yoongi several inches away from her on the couch, and Jimin’s insightful commentary on the film itself every once and a while. Staying with the two of them for the time being, Y/N felt her stress surrounding the others, the house renovations, and the possibility of additional physical fights between the hybrids melt away.

Yoongi began to stir in his drowsy state beside her, low rumbling purrs coming from his chest as he maneuvered himself closer to Y/N. Unceremoniously, Yoongi curled onto his side and dropped his body down heavily, his head landing in Y/N’s lap as he pulled the blanket closer around himself. Jolting in surprise, Y/N let out an amused snort in response, Yoongi’s ear fluttering sluggishly with his eyes shut. Glancing at Jimin sideways, the coyote hybrid thoroughly invested in the film and seemingly paying no mind to her nor Yoongi, Y/N began to gently card her fingers through Yoongi’s hair, the inky strands slipping through her fingers like rivulets of water.

A deep, satisfied sigh deflated his chest slowly and rounded out in a purr, apparently enjoying the sensation, Y/N tucking a lock behind the shell of his human ear and stroking the long strands by the nape of his neck. Ever since Yoongi had scented her, he had grown increasingly clingy and almost affectionate, which was something she didn’t entirely mind at all, if she was being honest with herself. It was almost like in another life, or in another existence entirely, she and Yoongi had been in this position before, had brushed each other’s lives in some way.

Continuing to fiddle with the leopard hybrid’s hair while he fell into a deep sleep on her lap, Y/N returned her attention back to the film and the occasional exchanged comments with Jimin. She was able to fish her phone out of her pocket without disturbing Yoongi, filling an online shopping cart with seven different guidebooks for each hybrid she had adopted.

Y/N had the feeling that she’d have extra time to read the books while she was at work the following week, considering foot traffic would be light with the end of the summer season. Not to mention, she wasn’t giving tarot or psychic readings, so she knew that there would be a few hours where she’d have nothing to do but sit on a stool behind the counter– in her mind, a good way to spend it would be educating herself on her hybrids. Once the order was placed, she relaxed deeper into the couch, lightly massaging Yoongi’s scalp as the movie rolled on.

The rest of Saturday passed slowly like honey dripping from a wooden dipper; consisting of lazy movie marathons with Jimin, napping Yoongi, and later Hoseok and Seokjin– all while trying to beat the heat with popsicles, and ordering sushi for dinner instead of having to cook. Booze began to flow around 5 o’clock, Hoseok making some kind of tequila concoction with crushed ice and lime for everyone, which finally roused Yoongi out of his sleep and off of Y/N’s lap, puffiness filling out his cheeks. Once he had moved off of her, she made her rounds to respective bedrooms, writing down sushi orders from Jeongguk (who had also just woken up from his nap with sleep wrinkles on his cheek), Namjoon, and Taehyung– the task akin to pulling teeth with the latter two.

When the food arrived, by some miracle all seven hybrids joined her in the parlor to eat, even though Namjoon and Taehyung were carefully avoided by the others throughout the meal. The two that had fought took seats far from each other; Namjoon on the window seat a little ways away from the TV, Taehyung on a chair further back in the room by the entrance to the kitchen. Thankfully, not a single word was uttered by anyone surrounding the fight or the presence of the Kodiak and wolf hybrids, everyone’s full attention on the continuation of the New Girl binge they were in the middle of.

The only thing that seemed a little off to Y/N was Hoseok’s behavior, even though he tried his best to put on his most beguiling smile as he mixed up cocktails, he seemed on edge compared to earlier on in the day. Most interestingly, Y/N could tell it wasn’t due to Namjoon’s presence for once, as the fox hybrid appeared less frightened and more agitated, so she kept a particular eye on him as he absently picked his way through a California roll. He didn’t even poke fun at Seokjin like he normally did, even when the jaguar hybrid had opened up a soy sauce packet in a way that had it exploding all over the front of his tee shirt, deepening her concern.

After a couple of hours of watching the show and snacking on the Japanese takeout, Hoseok abruptly excused himself, making a beeline for the basement. Frowning, Y/N looked to Seokjin, who had been sitting on the floor in front of her feet, his head tilted backwards to make eye contact with her.

“What’s up with him? Do you know?” Y/N whispered into Seokjin’s nearest rounded ear, which twitched rapidly at the action, the jaguar hybrid’s eyes narrowing in the direction of the hallway to the foyer and basement.

“Yeah, I have a hunch. Maybe you should check on him,” a slight knowing edge was mingling with Seokjin’s melodic tone, causing Y/N to ease herself off of the couch. Tequila was fuzzying the edges of her sight, but she was still able to step her way around Seokjin after giving him an appreciative hair ruffle, ambling in the direction of the basement.

Deep down in her gut, Y/N had a minute clue as to what Seokjin was alluding to when she had questioned him. Hoseok was one of the last to scent her, along with Jimin, both of whom she was monitoring subtly for any symptoms of refraining from doing so. Hoseok’s fidgety, strange conduct during dinner certainly strengthened her suspicions, though it was his particular clingy mannerisms in fox form earlier in the day that had set off certain alarm bells in her head.

Still hearing quiet mumbling mingling with TV audio as she wrenched open the door to the basement, Y/N thought it best to shut it behind her once she was descending the steps and if her suspicions were confirmed. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to hybrid scenting rituals, anticipation flooding through her bloodstream as she tiptoed down the stairs.

The metal sound of dumbbells clanking together bounced around the bare acoustics of the basement almost immediately once Y/N reached the bottom step. It was a pipe dream to believe Hoseok had gotten true rest since the night before the cookout considering this wolf phobia, the excess of exercise Hoseok was performing was indicative of something deeper, clearly.

Coming into view of the gym space thanks to the mirrored wall, Y/N caught Hoseok performing aggressive overhead presses, his back turned to her and impressively heavy dumbbells grasped in his fists. Hoseok was nearly dripping with sweat, the amount of it not enough to chalk it up to his five minutes in the gym, his complexion in the mirror blotchy as he repeated a lifting motion over and over again. Still in his dampened muscle tee and sweat shorts, Hoseok’s chest heaved as he exercised, even though he knew she was standing behind him. She could tell by the way his posture locked up, his tail grew rigid, and his nostrils began to flare.

“Hoseok,” Y/N began, the fox hybrid promptly ignoring her and continuing his reps with renewed vigor. “Hoseok, stop. You’re gonna strain a muscle, you’ve been active all day.”

Y/N laced her words with heavy implication, knowing that clever Hoseok would undoubtedly catch onto the unsaid. Still, he refused to put down the dumbbells, staring at his own reflection in the mirror stormily. Hissing, Y/N marched up to his side, glaring at the fox hybrid’s stubborn side profile, tangible waves of body heat coming off of him like a furnace. Wondering why Hoseok was so reluctant to scent her, his attempts to abstain from the act so painfully apparent it puzzled Y/N to no end. Hoseok was one of the hybrids who warmed up to her the quickest, and usually didn’t shy away from physical contact, so the behavior was bizarre to say the least.

“Hoseok. Are you ignoring me? You look like you’re going to pass out, would you please put the weights down and look at me?” Y/N raised her voice a decibel or two, Hoseok’s jaw clenching and unclenching as a prominent vein appeared on his forehead. “Fucksake, Hoseok–”

Growling, Hoseok finally slammed the dumbbells back onto the metal rack, spinning on his heel to stare down at her with a cocked eyebrow. There was danger written all across his features, in a way that Y/N had never considered Hoseok could possess, sending a shiver down her spine as his darkened eyes swept over her face. His chest was heaving, taking two big steps towards Y/N, making her back up in consequence as her heart began to race.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to swear at you, I was just worried because you look so–”

“Look so what?” Hoseok cut her off sharply, backing her up until her ass made contact with the seat of the stationary bike, and there was nowhere left to go. “What do I look like?”

“Um! You’re just flushed, you don’t look bad or anything, I mean– I don’t think you could look bad–”

“You’re always talking yourself into a corner, darling, and look where it's gotten you this time,” Hoseok interrupted her babbling again, using one of his sneaker-clad feet to lightly kick between her ankles and widen her stance, Y/N slamming her mouth shut in response. “I’ll stop you there, before you dig yourself into a deeper hole.”

“You– and you’re always t-teasing me!” Y/N accused weakly, her words getting caught in her throat when Hoseok wrapped his hands around her waist firmly enough to have her wincing, finding herself plucked off of the floor and being placed onto the seat of the stationary bike.

Now eye-level with the fox hybrid, she gawked at him with wide, startled eyes, following the bead of sweat running down his temple and coasting down the side of his face. His hands remained on her waist, with enough force to likely bruise, Hoseok more worked up than she thought. Distantly, she cursed Seokjin inwardly for not giving her more of a warning surrounding the fox hybrid’s state, but as Hoseok’s tongue peaked out from between his lips to dampen the flesh, most coherent thought fled from her mind.

“I’ve told you before. You make it too easy for me,” Hoseok replied, his usually bright tone replaced with something darker, more predatory.

All Y/N could do was stare at him, effectively pinned to the seat with his vice like grip on her waist and his dangerously brilliant eyes boring into her like he could see through her skin. They swept over her throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he let go of one side of her waist to drag a fingertip up and over her clavicle, tapping his index finger against her thrumming pulse. Shuddering, her eyelids slipped shut as her breath began to come out in small pants, Hoseok chuckling lowly at her reaction to his touch. She felt pathetic, basically turned into a puddle already and he hadn’t even gotten close enough to bite her.

His index finger trailed upwards to crook under her chin, his thumb resting beneath her lower lip, tilting her head up and to the side a bit. A small groan spilled from Hoseok’s lips as her throat became more exposed to him, her scent undoubtedly filling his senses powerfully. Squirming in her seat, Hoseok’s grip on her waist loosened, the hand traveling to the back of her head as he took a fistful of her hair. He wasn’t being gentle by any means, his fingernails digging into her scalp as he threaded strands through his digits, pulling her closer to his face as she finally opened her eyes.

Hoseok was but a breath away from her, Y/N finding herself focusing on the freckle kissing his cupid’s bow, his eyes lidded as he stepped impossibly closer, slotting himself between her legs and dipping his face down to nuzzle at her jawbone. Eyes rolling back in her skull at the sensation of his lips ghosting over her jaw, Y/N bit back a whimper, her hands finding purchase on his bare biceps, his skin slightly slippery and feverish with perspiration.

“Hoseok…” Y/N whispered, sensing that he was stalling a little bit, taking deep breaths through his nose while tucked into the crook of her neck as his ears twitched at the sound of his name.

“What, are you eager or something?” Hoseok returned coolly, lifting his head to speak into her ear directly. His breath ghosting over the sensitive area had her practically clawing at his skin. “Patience, my darling.”

The dulcet tone of his voice caused the whimper to finally tumble from her lips, Hoseok grinning against the shell of her ear before she felt the sharpened points of his incisors nip roughly at her earlobe. The action had her pressing closer to Hoseok, her chest flush with his as her hands fumbled to the back of his tank top, gripping the dampened fabric as an anchor. With the implications of the fox hybrid’s words, she no longer held any doubts that all of the hybrids were aware just how much she enjoyed when they scented her, the realization both humiliating and exciting once it dawned on her.

“Oh? Are you embarrassed? Worried that the others upstairs will hear you?” Hoseok murmured into her ear, hand dropping from her jaw to press against her lower back, the force of the touch making her spine arch harder into Hoseok’s chest. “Doesn’t matter anyways…”

Feeling Hoseok’s heart racing as he pressed himself against her, Y/N began to shake in response to his tone and shamelessness, using her thighs to squeeze Hoseok’s hips in an attempt to get him to hurry up and bite her already. Sighing deeply, Hoseok nudged the tip of his nose against the corner of her jaw, his soft lips finding the tender spot beneath her earlobe and planting a featherlight kiss there. Y/N knew then, Hoseok was unabashedly trying to rile her up; this was a new side to the fox hybrid Y/N had no idea about– rough, wild, domineering.

The kiss was immediately followed by the fox hybrid finally baring his teeth and sinking them into the same spot he planted his lips seconds prior, the razor-sharp sting of his incisors tearing into her flesh with borderline reckless abandon. Too startled by the blinding pain to make a noise, Y/N’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream as she felt thin streams of her blood running down the side of her neck. Growing entirely limp, her body weakly slumped against Hoseok’s firm chest, the pain of the bite fading more slowly than any of her previous ones, perhaps because of the harsh way he had torn into the skin, his hand on the back of her head still yanking at strands with force.

“A-ah, ouch, Hos-seok,” Y/N sobbed lightly, gliding shaky hands up to Hoseok’s shoulders for purchase, the fox hybrid groaning softly into her neck as her fingernails clawed at his deltoids. As the throbbing began to slip away, the fogginess of pleasure that came with the bite overtook everything– the combination of the two sensations almost too much to bear.

Pulling his teeth from the wound, Hoseok adjusted her in his arms by using a forearm to curl securely around her lower back, hand tangled in her hair moving to stroke the back of her head more tenderly. A couple of involuntary tears slipped down her cheeks in response to the overwhelming sensations washing over her; eyes rolling to the back of her skull when she felt Hoseok drag his tongue in fat strips from the base of her clavicle to just over the bite by the curve of her jaw, collecting the thin trails of blood that had dribbled from the wound.

Y/N was hardly aware of the low whines she was letting out as Hoseok held her more gently, paying almost reverent attention to cleaning up the area he had bloodied. He was supporting most of her weight in the process, Y/N winding her arms around his neck loosely to keep herself somewhat upright as he once again pressed a soft kiss over his mark. She blearily eyed the crescent-shaped divots she had created on the skin of his shoulder, a delirious scenting-addled brain remarking that she, too, had claimed him in some way. While Hoseok had been quite rough with her, she didn’t really mind, especially because all tension had drained from his body since, and he was now holding her so tightly.

“Sorry about the pain, I think I picked a tender spot…” Hoseok suddenly murmured into her neck, moving his arms so he could hug around her waist, hooking his chin over her shoulder. Finally, she could drop her head down into the crook of his neck, still feeling the loopiness of the bite. “I waited too long, lost control a little bit.”

Hoseok drew soothing patterns on her back as he embraced her, warmth spreading through Y/N as she nuzzled into him. His scent was comforting, and she was honestly relieved that he had finally calmed down from his incessant bouncing off the walls, but all at once she was exhausted.

“Do you need to sit here for a bit? Or do you want me to carry you upstairs?” Hoseok spoke again after several beats, piece by piece of Y/N’s intelligence coming back to her as the fog cleared from her head. “We should probably get you a glass of water, you bled a bit and it's so hot outside… I’m surprised Yoongi or Jin haven’t come down here to fight me yet.”

“No more fighting,” Y/N weakly choked into Hoseok’s warm skin, lifting her heavy head up a few inches to speak more coherently. “I s-swear, you’re all going to be the death of me, b-between the scenting, teasing, and the angst.”

Hoseok heartily laughed at her stuttered sentiments, pressing his fingertips into the tender muscles of her back as he held her. She realized she never answered Hoseok’s first two inquiries, blinking kittenishly at the fox hybrid as he studied her face calmly. The warmth and friendliness to his features had returned.

“You don’t have to carry me, we can just go up together. I should bid everyone goodnight, anyways– it’s about time I attempt to get my sleep schedule under control before I head off to work Monday morning,” Y/N managed to articulate clearly, secretly praying for a peaceful Sunday before driving Seokjin and Namjoon to the city for the book club and then herself to a nearby suburb to pick up her shift at Judy’s metaphysical shop come Monday.

Making a move to stand up from her seat on the exercise bike, Hoseok inched away as she lowered her feet to the ground, his proximity still quite staggering as she tried to un-pin herself from his body against the bike. As he processed her words and movements, Hoseok shook out his limbs, stepping aside so she could move freely once more. Though, she couldn’t get very far without his sturdy hand slipping against her’s, intertwining his fingers securely around her own and their arms interlocking in an almost serpentine way.

“I forgot about you starting work on Monday,” Hoseok remarked, and Y/N could have sworn she caught Hoseok faintly pouting, but nonchalantly let him lead her still slightly slackened body to the stairs.

His hand clasped in her’s was rough, but warm and steady. He parted with her momentarily and dashed into his bedroom, softly ordering her to put on his hoodie as she quivered by the stairs waiting for him. With her brain less rational than usual, she slipped the woodsy smelling hoodie over her head without a word, Hoseok’s hand entangling with her’s once more as soon as it was draped over her body.

“Jinnie told me he’s going with you, you’re dropping him off at the library with the godforsaken wolf.”

Sucking in a lungful of careful breath, Y/N nodded to the best of her ability as the pair of them clambered up the stairs at snail's speed. With Hoseok’s immediate drop back into his sharp-witted persona, Y/N was left a touch whiplashed. How had he gone from dangerous desperation to happy-go-lucky in a matter of minutes? “I’m afraid my mother has roped Seokjin into the extracurricular, if you will. Though, you’re all more than welcome to join the bookclub… my mom would love it of course, and it gives you a chance to get out of the house,” Y/N noted, slightly lamenting the fact that her hybrids didn’t have many opportunities to engage with much of society due to their limited rights.

“I’m not really into books in that way. Don’t get me wrong, I read, but I can’t picture myself dissecting thematic overtones in the same room as that wolf. Besides, I’d rather bother Yoongi all day. He’s funny when he’s agitated,” Hoseok held the door to the basement open for her while he responded, tugging her hand as they both cleared the last step into the foyer.

“Well, just don’t push his buttons too much. He’s skilled with a knife, you know,” Y/N giggled, nudging his hip with her own as they made it into the kitchen. With a snort, Hoseok released her hand, retrieving a pitcher of water from the fridge and pouring her and himself a large glass. “I’m going to scour the internet, see if I can find other clubs or activities for hybrids in the area, maybe there will be something that interests you. That way you don’t have to be cooped up here all the time!” “Ha, like a hybrid summer camp or something?” Hoseok pondered, a playful lilt to his voice. Contrary to his words, Y/N knew Hoseok was interested in pursuing new hobbies, he’d had let it slip during their chat earlier that morning.

“No, not a summer camp, silly. There’s a recreation center not so far from here, they might have sports teams or art classes…”

“You should see if there’s a ghostbusting club for the elk,” Hoseok slid Y/N her glass of water, a smug look on his face as he registered the unmoved reaction from her towards his jab at Jeongguk. “Come on, it was a little funny. Don’t tell me you’re already smitten with him.”

“Hoseok, I swear,” Y/N groaned, taking her water and moving towards the entrance to the parlor. She could catch a glimpse of Taehyung from where she was standing, still curled up in the chair by the window and fiddling with the hem of his blue flannel as he watched the TV from afar. “One of these days you’ll meet your match, and then you’ll have to hold your tongue.”

The fox hybrid’s melodic chuckles were dampened in volume compared to the chatter and volume from the television, the rest of the hybrids still in their spots around the parlor as if she and Hoseok never even left. She wanted to bid them all a good night, hoping to get into bed before 11 PM, so she began with Taehyung, reaching into her pocket for the roll of gauze she had tucked in there earlier to change out the old bandages. Hoseok returned to his seat on the floor beside Seokjin, carefully avoiding the Kodiak hybrid as Y/N knelt before him to replace the gauze.

“Can I see your hands?” Y/N murmured quietly, holding her palms out expectantly as she snagged Taehyung’s attention.

His garnet eyes softened as he stared at her knelt form on the floor, leaning forward and immediately resting his large hands in hers, the movement carrying his strong sandalwood scent with it. The weight of his hands was solid and unyielding, Y/N immediately removing the old bandages from that morning and inspecting his knuckles. To her great surprise, the wounds already appeared to be half-healed, mostly scabbed over and bruised at that point. Still, she preferred to wrap them so he wouldn’t snag the scabs on his sheets when he went to bed, swiftly wrapping his hands up and giving his fingers a light squeeze.

“Alright, you should be good after this! I forgot you guys heal so quickly,” Y/N grinned at Taehyung, appearing quite thoughtful as she began to pull her hands away. “I wanted to say goodnight, too. I have to start heading to bed a bit earlier so I can get up for work on Monday without an issue.”

Taehyung’s ears fluttered, eyes taking in every inch of her face as she spoke. He had an air of unease about him, Y/N figuring that he was still thinking about the events that had unfolded the night before, possibly trying to scan her face for any hint of fear towards him that might still be lingering. Really, she wasn’t afraid of Taehyung, even after learning the dark secret he had been keeping from everybody and the fist fight that occurred between him and Namjoon. Deep down, she knew that Taehyung had probably agonized over harboring a secret so damning, and it wasn’t like he plotted the murder… he had been metaphorically cornered, forced to choose between life and death. Whether that was naive or not, that was yet to be seen.

“Goodnight,” Taehyung’s deep, mellow voice drew her out of her thoughts, her eyes locking with his once more and away from his wrapped knuckles. “I hope you sleep well…”

He was much, much closer to her face now, one of his hands moving out of her grip to cup her cheek swiftly before getting nearer than ever, planting a firm, resolute kiss between her eyebrows, the action so unexpected it had Y/N’s jaw hanging loosely. Blinking stupidly, Y/N put a hand over the spot his warm lips had stamped affection over, slowly rising to her feet. Taehyung’s eyes were focused back onto the television, leaving her to trudge away in a bit of a stun.

Snapping out of it the best she could, she made her rounds to each hybrid clumped on and around the couch, Seokjin making grabby hands for one of her palms and squeezing it tight with a disappointed look in his eyes that she was retiring early. Jeongguk grunted in response to her bidding goodnight with blood sliding down his cheekbones from his shedding velvet, smirking up at her as she bashfully recovered from both Yoongi and Hoseok hooking arms around her legs from the floor in a sort of joint-hug. Man, they were all getting clingy– and her poor heart could hardly take it. After smoothing her hand over Jimin’s shoulder and exchanging a set of ‘sweet dreams’, Y/N eyed the window seat Namjoon had been sitting on, now vacated. Perhaps he decided to hit the hay early, too, but she still wished that he’d said goodnight to her.

She exited the parlor, grinning as she heard the TV decrease in volume as Hoseok turned it down a little, making her way through the dimly lit foyer with her cheeks warm. Hardly paying attention to where she was going, her thoughts surrounding her regret that she’d have to sleep alone in her bed that night, Y/N let out a squeak once she realized there was somebody standing in the hallway leading to her bedroom.

Shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, hands stuffed into the pockets of his gray sweatpants, was Namjoon, his ears flickering at the sounds of her footsteps creaking against the rickety floorboards. In the moonlight, his eyes still glowed amber, and his presence had a shiver dancing along the ridges of her spine. Approaching slowly, Y/N prayed he didn’t sense her minor apprehension in doing so.

“Can I have a word?” Namjoon broke the heavy silence as soon as she got close enough for him to murmur, Y/N nodding slightly as moonbeams from the skylight made the silver strands of his hair practically sparkle. He was almost otherworldly. “About last night…”

“Oh, uh, is something still on your mind? I suppose I haven’t really talked to you much today…” Y/N managed to choke out, dreading what he was about to bring up. There was a chance he’d be looking to argue with her again, which was the last thing she wanted on her mind before she went to bed.

“It’s not about the fight,” Namjoon quickly interjected, the lightest peachy flush dusting the tips of his human ears as he looked away from her. Temporarily relieved, she waited for him to get to the point, composing his face into a more serious expression while he assembled his thoughts. “It’s about your mother.”

Blinking, Y/N felt ice flood through her veins, wondering just how many times Namjoon could take her completely by surprise like that. Apparently sensing the dread coursing through her, Namjoon pulled his eyebrows together, stepping closer into her proximity. His scent, a manly musk mingling with floral honey, infiltrated her senses with the movement, and oddly brought her comfort immediately.

“Ah, don’t worry, please. I pulled a few Tarot cards from her last night, and wanted to discuss it with you… before everything else went down,” Namjoon remarked quietly, tilting his head down in an attempt to catch her eyes.

Moving to bury her hands in Hoseok’s hoodie pocket, her fingers brushed the little roll of gauze within the fabric, avoiding eye contact with Namjoon cowardly. She still had to swap out his bandages.

“Even when I told her not to do any more readings on you guys after Tae, she still did…” Y/N muttered, bitterness flooding her taste buds. “Did she tell you that you were going to die in seven days, or something?”

Namjoon seemed to choke on his intake of breath, Y/N finally meeting his eyes as she watched him try to mask the shocked amusement wash over him.

“N-no, I should hope not!” Namjoon breathed, removing his hands from his pockets to rub at the bare skin of his arms, as if a chill washed over him. Cute. “Seriously, though. I need to talk to you, can you come in for a minute?”

Namjoon jerked his head backwards to his bedroom door, the room filled with dusty lamplight and smelling like essential oil floor cleaner. Chewing her lip, Y/N followed the wolf hybrid into the room. He shut the door almost completely behind her, clearing his throat and pointing to his desk chair.

“Here, sit. I managed to take a few notes about what I pulled, before…” clearing his throat again, Namjoon ushered Y/N over to his chair, which she lowered herself onto while he leaned one hip against the desk to look down at her. “Anyways, take a look.”

The Magician - Apparently representing the querent; myself. Change in a situation or an environment needs to be brought about through a certain skill set (I?) possess… Spiritual development. Concentration is needed.

The Eight of Cups - My interpretation of this is seeking out higher spiritual power with the risk of abandoning material or previous efforts or successes/abandoning what one already has. Turning your back on something important, forgetting someone or something…

The Nine of Swords - Impending disaster, unavoidable fate. Whatever the disaster may be, nothing can be moved past until it is dealt with.

Namjoon’s handwriting, as beautiful as ever, curled across the weathered parchment in smudged indigo ink, the page littered in smaller notes she couldn’t quite read and a series of arrows and underlining. Another tiny clue into who Namjoon was fell into place in her mind– apparently, he knew enough about Tarot to grasp the meanings of each card, and she could feel him inspecting her from his perch on his desk as she looked over his notes.

“So? What do you think?” Namjoon vocalized after a few moments, taking his notes from her gently. Y/N noticed the wrappings on his hands had some of his blood seeping through, making her frown.

“Huh? Oh, you want my thoughts on the cards?” Namjoon nodded in response to her breathy inquiry, his bitten ear twitching as she scooted the desk chair closer to him, in order to get a better look at his notes once more. “I’m a bit rusty with Tarot, Namjoon.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure you remember more than you think you do,” Namjoon insisted eagerly, his desire for any kind of information from her etched across his features and laced in his tone. Humming, Y/N scanned the notes again– she might as well give it her best shot, for his sake.

“Hmm. So… I think you’re correct in guessing that you’re represented by The Magician, part of the Major Arcana. The other two cards you pulled aren’t particularly positive cards, especially The Nine of Swords. The suit of Swords typically indicates a sort of intellectual challenge to overcome, whereas the suit of Cups alludes to a spiritual challenge. I’m not sure what your beliefs are, Namjoon, but to me… these cards suggest that there is some sort of spiritual trial you’ll have to face, something that you’ll have to use your knowledge and experience to overcome,” Y/N began deliberately, eyes on the ceiling as if to summon some of her Tarot knowledge back into her brain.

“This obstacle you’ll have to face might bring you a great deal of anxiety, and you may become so wrapped up in fixing it that you forget to check in with reality from time to time. The fact that you came up as The Magician is a comfort; whatever you may face I’m confident you’ll be able to handle it and come away with even more experience than ever before,” She concluded, feeling a little badly she couldn’t give a better analysis. Sixteen-year-old Y/N could have given him a thirty minute in-depth reading with enthusiasm.

Namjoon seemed to be in deep concentration, lips pursed as he stared at the piece of parchment as if it was going to start speaking to him. A small, amused smile stretched across her face as she waited for her words to sink in, tapping her pointer finger on his knee in front of her to get his attention. It certainly did the job, Namjoon staring at her like she had grown a second head at once. Snorting, she fished the gauze out of Hoseok’s hoodie pocket, reaching out expectantly for his hands.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Namjoon muttered, though he put down the parchment and stretched out his hands either way.

“Indulge me,” Y/N whispered, cradling his palm in front of her face so she could gingerly peel the soiled gauze off of his knuckles. He hissed, whether in response to the gauze sticking to his wounds or her words.

His knuckles hadn’t quite scabbed over like Taehyung’s had yet, but Y/N supposed he took a few more harsh swings than the Kodiak hybrid had. Brushing her thumb over his skin tenderly, she held her breath as she re-wrapped his hands, waiting for him to say something, anything at all.

“Did I provide you with any useful insight, or were those theories you’ve already considered?” Y/N finally prompted, placing his hands back down on his lap. This time, he seemed reluctant to lose contact with her, as his left ring finger dragged along her palm more slowly than it should have.

“You’ve definitely confirmed a few things for me, thank you,” Namjoon replied, easing himself off of his desk and shaking out his tail he was sitting on. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, because I know you’re going to bed…”

Freezing her movements in rising from his desk chair, Y/N gawked at the wolf hybrid’s cryptic expression. What now?

“Well, now you have to tell me, or I won’t sleep a wink,” Y/N insisted, standing up to her full height and feeling Hoseok’s hoodie skimming her thighs as she straightened out. Stepping closer to him, she cocked her head, waiting for him to open his mouth and cut to the chase.

“I’m not sure that Jeongguk and I were able to permanently banish that entity last week. I think, based on this reading, and some of the tension still lingering, it might try to come back,” Namjoon uttered softly, carefully scanning Y/N from head to toe as if to analyze her body language and reactions.

Her shoulders sagged, not exactly taken aback by this revelation, because she, too, had entertained the idea. She still didn’t have any idea what kind of ritual the two of them had carried out to banish the entity in the first place, as she was totally unconscious throughout, and barely had the time to ask either of them about it amongst the chaos of the last week. There were the grounds to consider, where the Y/N had accidentally summoned the entity all those years ago in the first place– she highly doubted Namjoon nor Jeongguk had broken free from her side to cleanse the grounds that night. For all she knew, it could be lurking at the edges of the property, waiting for the right moment to gain entry into the home again.

“Yeah, I was thinking that too, lately. I’m not sure what you two did to stave it off for this long, but it is likely that I’ll have to do some heavy-duty protection wards around the property and the house next weekend. I might even have to do a full-scale banishment, if that doesn’t work,” Y/N sighed roughly, twisting her hands in the soft material of the hoodie’s pocket.

“Can I help?” Namjoon blurted, his back straightening out in purpose, eyes widening fractionally. “You should enlist Jeongguk’s help, too. If we work together, the chances of successfully getting rid of it are higher.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her mouth dropping open, wondering if this was Namjoon’s way of making it up to her for the way he acted the previous night, especially considering Jeongguk was the one to break up the brawl and haul the wolf hybrid away and Namjoon was still willing to team up with him. Maybe, he saw it as his ‘spiritual challenge’ he must overcome, or maybe he was more interested in the paranormal than she originally thought.

“You wanna help?” Y/N repeated meekly, Namjoon nodding once. “Alright, that’s a good idea– the three of us together can cover more ground quickly. When I go to work on Monday, I’ll pick up some things for the wards. If it comes to a full-scale banishment, we should wait for the next new moon in two weeks, just before your birthday.”

Namjoon froze, the constant sway of his silver tail even pausing, as pure astonishment washed over him. Cocking an eyebrow at his reaction, Y/N wondered if she said anything out of turn, or if he was re-thinking the whole ordeal now that she was discussing details.

“How do you know when my birthday is?” Namjoon asked, his complexion turning quite pale and then quite pink.

“What do you mean? It was on the clipboard at the shelter, and on the hybrid database I logged onto once I got your ID number from your official adoption certificate,” Y/N put her hands up as if she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Namjoon was so bizarre.

“Oh,” was all he offered in response, again gaping at her like she had an extra head.

“Anyways, we can discuss all of this some more tomorrow. Have you finished Wuthering Heights yet? I’m taking you and Seokjin to the library on Monday, don’t forget,” Y/N began to inch towards his door so she could head to bed. If she stayed any longer, she ran the risk of opening her big mouth and asking him about his favorite cake flavor, or a gift he had his eye on, and ruining her planned surprise of making all of the hybrid’s birthdays special in general.

Mortification further radiated off of the wolf hybrid in tangible waves, evidently not finished with the book, as he frantically turned to his nightstand and fumbled for the book. He seemed to have about 70 pages left. Trying not to giggle at his endearing mannerisms while his guard was down, Y/N reached his door while he was distracted.

“I’m heading to bed now, see you in the morning, okay? Don’t stay up too late reading,” Y/N called, giving him a little wave. Jerking his head up, Namjoon allowed the corner of his mouth to curl up shyly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” the wolf hybrid returned, his amber eyes trained on her and the sensation of it remaining long after she shut his door behind her.

Once settled under her quilt in her bedroom, Y/N tapped out some reminders on her phone in an attempt to extract one million floating tasks from her brain and trap them in written word. There was a grocery list from Yoongi, some things she wanted to pick up for Jimin at the hardware store, and a reminder to look for hybrid clubs and activities. Some stray ideas for Jeongguk and Namjoon’s separate birthday parties, a note to call Ben and the twins, as well as a small list of items to look for at Judy’s on Monday.

She had never felt so busy in her life, even when she was working back-to-back shifts at the animal hospital, but she found that all of the things she had on her plate brought her excitement, rather than exhaustion and dread. Apart from, of course, the very real possibility that she’d have to deal with that nasty entity again. As she switched off her lamp and got cozy, she tried not to dwell on ghosts and demons, or the fact that the bed felt empty without Seokjin, and willed herself into what she prayed to be a sleep full of pleasant dreams.

Sunday morning was rainy, gloomy, and the stifling heat was thankfully broken. Y/N hauled herself out of bed early to shower and pick out her outfit for work the next day. An alert on her phone told her that all of her hybrid guidebooks had been delivered and were waiting on the porch for her, so she sped out of her bedroom to collect them and stow them by her nightstand before any of the hybrids could notice they were there. It wasn’t like she didn’t want them to see the books, she just didn’t want to give them another reason to tease her about her lack of hybrid knowledge.

Once the books were tucked away, she followed her nose to the kitchen with her laptop under her arm– a buttery, sweet smell floating through the house and making her mouth water. Most meals these days were completely taken care of by Yoongi, purely because he often beat her to the kitchen to do so before she could even lift a finger. Yoongi had told her not to worry about feeling guilty over him preparing meals for the rest of the house, as cooking was something he genuinely enjoyed, but she still felt odd about letting him shoulder the responsibility.

Yoongi had prepared an almost comical stack of pancakes that he was consistently adding to a hot plate in one of the warm ovens, his long hair damp with his morning shower and tucked behind his ears. The counter was littered with sliced fruit, boats of maple syrups, sticks of butter and mixing bowls. The only other hybrid in the room was Jimin, who Y/N had noted preferred to rise early over the past week. He looked a bit hungover, nursing a rather large cup of coffee, cheek cradled in his palm and sandy ears drooping. Both hybrids perked up as soon as she waltzed into the room, Yoongi shuffling over to her with a mug containing coffee made to her precise preference. The realization that he had gotten the ratio of cream to sugar exactly right had a flush settling over her cheeks as soon as the drink washed over her taste buds.

She sat next to Jimin, the coyote hybrid oh-so-subtly slouching closer to her on his barstool, and made small talk while they waited for some of the other hybrids to make their appearances. Setting up her laptop, she drummed her fingers against the keyboard, wondering which part of her to-do list she should tackle first. Jeongguk’s birthday was fast approaching, and a flash of panic struck through her when she considered there might not be much time left for her to order gifts and a cake for him.

“Morning! Is there bacon?” Seokjin’s sweet voice had her eyes tearing away from the loading Best Buy home screen to seek out his face.

He was in almost the exact same outfit as Yoongi, a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved thermal, but Seokjin’s was a cornflower blue and Yoongi’s was a deep wine color. Immediately, he widely smiled at Y/N, offering her an enthusiastic wave, to which she returned with a slight chuckle.

“Haven’t made it yet,” Yoongi replied, flipping a pancake mid-air as if he was Gordon Ramsay or something. “I’ve been waiting for it to thaw, over by the sink. I’ll get to it.”

“Can I cook it?” Seokjin moved to the island, inspecting the limp package of uncooked bacon. Y/N exchanged a sideways glance with Jimin, who still managed to convey his amusement even though he really looked like he would rather eat mud than a piece of bacon Seokjin cooked.

“Can you even cook? Do you know how to operate the stove?” Yoongi lifted an eyebrow at the jaguar hybrid, Seokjin’s ears fluttering in annoyance.

“I’ve watched you enough times to gather the mechanics, thank you,” Seokjin grumbled, Y/N desperately trying to swallow down laughter with Jimin practically shaking next to her. “And on my phone, too. When I can’t sleep, I watch cooking videos, I want to learn.”

Y/N straightened out at this, tilting her head to look at Seokjin while his back was turned to her. There were instances where he couldn’t sleep? Was she selfish to lament the fact that he hadn’t disclosed that to her previously? Distracting herself from dwelling on that, she half-listened to Yoongi slide a skillet onto the stove for Seokjin and scrolled around on her laptop for a video camera for Jeongguk. Aware of Jimin looking over her shoulder, she finally came across a reasonably priced one with all of the specs she was hoping for– full spectrum, night vision, easily hand held. With the camera and a protection plan in her virtual cart, she clicked the option for in-store pick up, so she could drop by later that day on her grocery and hardware store run.

As if summoned as soon as the order went through, the elk hybrid traipsed through the entrance of the kitchen in his black hoodie, fiddling with a couple of his hoop earrings as he scanned the room. To Y/N’s surprise, he promptly planted himself on the other empty barstool beside her, and thankfully she had already closed out of the Best Buy website.

“Good morning,” Y/N greeted, feeling somewhat shy with his onyx stare boring through her. His eyes flickered to her laptop screen, where she was idly viewing the gallery of a local bakery, mumbling the same greeting back.

The fatty scent of bacon began to infest the room, Seokjin diligently turning pieces over in the sizzling pan and looking deeply satisfied with himself. He appeared to be doing quite well under Yoongi’s watchful eye, even though occasionally an acrid smell would fill the kitchen when he’d burn an odd piece. Slowly, the remaining hybrids found their ways to the kitchen; Hoseok grumpily complaining about the early hour still in his pajamas, Namjoon dressed smartly in a crisp linen button down and slacks, and lastly Taehyung, who entered the room so silently and unacknowledged by the others Y/N didn’t even realize he was sitting at the breakfast nook until she turned around at the sound of the rain increasing in density against the window. He gave her a half-smile, the red flannel he had on picking up the peculiar color of his eyes, Y/N giving him her brightest grin as if to make up for the fact that everyone else was ignoring him.

She turned over the ways in her mind that she could find out what kind of cake Jeongguk would want for his birthday, and all of them would give away the surprise and her intentions. Chewing on her lip, she felt Jimin shift closer to her yet again, his body heat quite comforting as his arm brushed hers. Shutting her laptop once Yoongi declared everything was ready, Y/N saw that he and Seokjin had set up a buffet style pancake bar on the island, the jaguar hybrid appeared gleeful and proud of himself, which had her practically melting when she got up to get a plate.

Namjoon was in front of her in the sort of clumpy line they had all formed to fix up their breakfast plates, Y/N spooned stewed berries onto her pancakes as she decided to slyly get the information she needed, in probably the most roundabout way possible. She did seem to like making things harder for herself.

“There’s this new bakery in town I want to try out, and I’ve been thinking about ordering cupcakes or something. I’d like to get you all your favorites if you tell me what they are,” Y/N announced nonchalantly, settling back into her seat and cringing somewhat as she basically heard crickets.

Getting the hybrids to tell her what they wanted when it came to food was always like pulling teeth, and she chalked it up to the fact that they likely didn’t have many opportunities to select things of their own preference. It saddened her, but now that they were with her, they really didn’t have to hesitate so much. She wished she could say that in so many words, but she didn’t want to risk hitting any raw nerves. Predictably, Hoseok responded first as soon as the shock cleared from his face.

“Uh… I don’t really know, all cakes are good cakes!” He began– not off to a good start. “I guess I like vanilla the best if I were to choose, simple but classic.”

“I liked those lavender cupcakes from the cookout, the ones your friend Ben brought,” Seokjin volunteered, a thick layer of maple syrup coating his voluminous lips. Nodding, Y/N added the two answers to a notes document on her phone for when their birthdays rolled around.

After what felt like forever, she was able to pry out an answer from all of them, and she had finished her stack of pancakes long before the list was complete. Strawberry cake for Taehyung, Yoongi liked chocolate with raspberry filling, Namjoon gave a vague answer with just ‘chocolate’, and Jimin had classic tastes like Hoseok with simple vanilla. Of course, Jeongguk was the last to answer, too busy staring at his phone and snacking on the burnt pieces of bacon Seokjin had set aside separately.

“Jeongguk? How about you?” Y/N nudged his shoulder with her own, and ironically he genuinely looked like a deer in the headlights, antlers and all.

“Huh? Oh, cake… I don’t like cake that much. I guess I enjoy cheesecake, but that's more of a pie, if people were being more honest with themselves,” Jeongguk finally responded while absently using his napkin to blot some blood away from his face that had been dripping from his antlers into his hairline, looking back down at his phone. Interesting!

“Cheesecake? Gross. Also, have you ever even seen an actual pie? Because they don’t look like a cheesecake,” Hoseok accused, his russet ears turned backwards as if his honor had been insulted.

“You’re an agitating motherfucker,” Jeongguk remarked simply, getting up to rinse his plate and stick it in the dishwasher. Yoongi began to shake with laughter, especially upon catching a glimpse of Hoseok’s visage cloaked with surprise.

Once the kitchen was cleaned up, the job going by quickly with so many hands, Y/N decided it was as good of a time as any to head out on her errands so she could spend the rainy evening cozy in the parlor. Before everyone vacated the kitchen, she notified the hybrids that she was heading out.

“Do any of you want to come with me? It’s pretty shitty weather out there, so I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to tag along. I just have to go to a few stores,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the pelting rain outside of the kitchen window, hoping the grocery store wouldn’t give her paper bags.

Minutes later, Y/N– considerably damp from running to her car like a crazy person, found herself in the driver’s seat, Yoongi beside her, Seokjin and Taehyung in the back. The rest of the hybrids elected to stay at home, and Y/N was grateful Jeongguk hadn’t joined her so she could pick up his camera without raising suspicion.

“Jimin looked rough this morning,” Yoongi remarked offhandedly, his tail swishing languidly behind him as he pushed a half-full grocery cart down the bread aisle.

Nudging him softly in the ribs, Y/N tossed two packages of hamburger buns into the cart while Yoongi bared his pointed incisors at her. The force of the nudge wasn’t enough to cause any pain, and she knew Yoongi was just trying to tease her again– but regardless, she was thinking the same too. The coyote hybrid slunk away to his bedroom shortly after breakfast, claiming he wanted to take a shower and read, looking less sparkly than he usually did. Maybe tequila was not his friend.

“You know, he’s the only one who hasn’t scented you yet. He probably feels like shit because of that,” Yoongi continued after a beat, examining a loaf of milk bread and dropping it into the cart as well. Y/N stiffened, not used to any of the hybrids explicitly bringing up scenting unless right before the act.

“God, you think? Why didn’t he tell me– and we’re not going to be back for at least another hour,” Y/N stared at Yoongi with alarm, the leopard hybrid shrugging with a lazy flicker of his ear. “What if he collapses like Seok–” Y/N immediately cut herself off with a hand clamped over her mouth, whipping around to stare at the jaguar hybrid with an apology clinging to her tongue. To her surprise, he wasn’t trailing after her at the moment, only Taehyung was at the end of the aisle scrolling through his phone.

“Don’t worry, he took off towards the produce like five minutes ago. Not that he’d care if you brought that up,” Yoongi assured, scanning the crumpled list in his hands distractedly. “Jimin will be fine. Actually, he has more self-restraint than most of us, which is pretty impressive.”

“Oh, was that a compliment for Jimin? Warming up to him, are you?” Y/N teased, Yoongi gritting his teeth and pushing the cart ahead of her. She caught the hem of his thermal, tethering herself to him so she wouldn’t be left behind, snickering the whole way.

“He’s one of the more tolerable ones. Seokjin’s fine, too. Jury’s still out with Foxy…” Yoongi replied begrudgingly nonetheless.

She didn’t know what was taking over her, but she wiggled her fingers against the wine-colored fabric covering Yoongi’s sides to tickle him once she was next to him, eliciting a purr and a tiny, toothy smile from the leopard hybrid.

“And what about me? Is the jury still out on me, too, Yoongi?” Y/N prodded jokingly, straightening out a wrinkle on his shirt while he reached for a jar of peanut butter on the shelf.

Yoongi paused, his tail brushing the length of her thigh as he turned to look down at her, a mysterious expression on his face as she continued to fix his wrinkled thermal. She forgot that she was in the middle of the grocery store with two other hybrids to worry about, soaking in the thoughtful twinkle in his hazel, feline eyes.

“Verdict is still pending,” Yoongi replied, smirking at the pout stretching across her face at his response. She let go of his shirt as he pushed the cart towards the produce section, Y/N ready to ice him out for a bit out of spite, until he continued. “‘Course I like you, sweetheart.”

Nearly tripping over a display case of cup ramen noodles, Y/N felt her body go both hot and cold as Yoongi simply slunk away with the cart, tail curling placidly behind him as if he didn’t say anything out of the ordinary. The nerve! Heart racing, she managed to pluck up the rest of the vegetables on the list that she could remember, spotting Seokjin not too far away merrily stacking cartons of strawberries in his arms.

With the groceries in the trunk and the three hybrids safely buckled into their seats, Y/N dragged them to the hardware store and blasted in and out to pick up a basic toolbox for Jimin. The coyote hybrid had wanted to get started on stable work that morning, but because of the inclement weather, he was stalled and Y/N wanted to get him some new tools to cheer him up.

Beside her, Seokjin was humming along to a Radiohead song on the radio. Yoongi had let him take the passenger seat on the way back, which was probably best for Y/N’s nerves considering he had dropped the ‘of course I like you sweetheart’ bomb on her. Not that she had calmed down at all, with Seokjin seeking out her hand immediately as soon as he clambered into the car, idly fiddling with her fingers as she used her other hand to keep an unsteady grip on the steering wheel.

“Just one more stop to make…” Y/N managed to squeak over the music, rain, and the blood rushing in her ears.

Seokjin traced her knuckles with his fingertips, causing goosebumps to pebble up the flesh of her forearm. She didn’t have the guts to sneak a peek at him reacting to her clear enjoyment of his touch. Y/N was going to die an early death, and the cause of it would be the seven hybrids she adopted.

A middle-aged man from the Best Buy store brought out Jeongguk’s camera after Y/N made a quick phone call for curbside pickup, not wanting to trudge out in the rain again. A box appeared in the window, and she tried not to frown, noticing the highly judgmental look on the man’s face as he looked from Y/N, to Seokjin and the way the jaguar hybrid was holding her hand, and even going so far as to peer into the back seat to raise an eyebrow at Yoongi and Taehyung. She could somewhat read the look on his face, typical dirty male thoughts as his eyes flickered back over her, zeroing in on the especially bruised bite Hoseok had given her on her neck.

“Thanks, have a good night,” Y/N ground out, wanting to yank the mustache off of the man’s face. Seokjin gingerly leaned over her body to accept the box, flashing the undeserving man a sharp-toothed beautiful smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will too,” the man mumbled, clicking his tongue and promptly heading back into the store.

Infuriated, and not knowing what the fuck that meant, Y/N swore at him while rolling the window up, adding a middle finger for good measure even though the man’s back was turned. She’d have to write a nasty Google review about that particular Best Buy. What was he insinuating?

“Wow, what a dick…” Y/N seethed, blasting through a yellow light so she could get home as quickly as possible. “Looking at me like I’m some sort of depraved sicko.”

“Don’t pay attention to those motherfuckers. Those are the type that think the purpose of hybrid adoption is…” Yoongi stopped speaking abruptly, noticing the dark look crossing over her face from the rearview mirror. She knew where Yoongi was going with that thought, and didn’t like it at all.

Some perverse people would indeed adopt hybrids for the sole purpose of entering a sexual relationship with them, which filled Y/N with utter disgust. Adoptions should be made from a place of wanting to give a hybrid a home and offering friendship and protection, not simply to exploit them in that way. Seokjin softly squeezed her arm, her fury definitely palpable and coming off in waves. She didn’t care.

“You’re not pieces of meat Yoongi,” Y/N snapped, the leopard hybrid’s eyes widening as she caught them in the rearview again. “He should’ve kept his mouth shut, it was fucking rude and the assumption is insulting. I’m sorry you three had to sit through that, I’m fucking livid… maybe I should call Ben and see if he can somehow dig up some dirt and get him fired…”

She had forgotten Taehyung was even behind her, silently witnessing her spiral into simmering rage, until she felt him gently pat the top of her head, reaching over her headrest. Somehow, that simple touch had her melting back into her seat, some of the red in her vision clearing away.

“It’s okay. It’s happened before, it’ll happen again, people with dirty looks and assumptions. What matters is that we’re with you, and their opinions don’t matter,” Seokjin murmured quietly, his words wrapping around her heart and effectively making her hold back a swoon. By then, her anger was gone, and Yoongi struck up a conversation surrounding what he planned on making for dinner.

When they got back, the three hybrids took care of the groceries, Y/N leaving Jeongguk’s camera in her car for the time being. As she unlocked the front door to the house, Taehyung gave her a one-armed hug, noticing she was still a little perturbed from the whole Best Buy dickhead exchange. She leaned into his strong frame, letting Yoongi in with his fistfuls of plastic grocery bags, humming as the Kodiak hybrid’s sandalwood scent calmed her down pretty much entirely.

Shuffling into the house, she helped Yoongi put everything away in the kitchen, before parting with the three hybrids to seek out Jimin. She wanted to check if he was feeling alright, give him his new toolbox, and hopefully encourage him to scent her. Because she had work the next day, she felt anxious about leaving him for most of the afternoon if he started feeling even worse.

Jimin’s door was closed, so she knocked carefully to alert him of her presence, however he likely heard and smelled her coming down the hall anyways. A somewhat hoarse ‘come in’ responded to her knocking, Y/N awkwardly shouldering her way in with the heavy toolbox. Jimin was lounging on his blue velvet chair by the window, which was cracked open and bringing the earthy smell of the rain in. His hair was neatly combed back and he was dressed in simple sweats and a long-sleeved cream cotton shirt, and he looked leagues better than he did that morning. Still, the way he death gripped the book he was holding, and the subtle twitch in his jaw seemed to be the cracks in his carefully constructed composure.

“Good book?” Jimin nodded, his ears fluttering as he put the book down to listen to her more fully. “Got you something!”

Y/N set the toolbox down on the windowsill beside the chair he was sitting in, not noticing the way he stiffened as she got closer. What she did notice, however, was the sensation of piercing yellow eyes burning a hole in her face, which had butterflies battering around in her guts. She did a little ta-da jazz hands number, grinning at the coyote hybrid as he tore his eyes from her face to inspect what she was offering him.

“Oh! Are these for…” Jimin began distractedly, swallowing thickly as if the room was filled with some kind of mind-altering gas. “This was on my list I sent you.”

“Mm-hm, I know you wanted to get out there today and start chipping away, and I figured you were a bit disappointed that the weather is inclement. I picked this up to cheer you up,” Y/N explained, wondering how on earth she could bring up the fact that he still hasn’t scented her.

In reaction to her words, Jimin’s cheeks flooded with a peachy blush, Y/N resisting the urge to reach out and pinch them. For a few moments, they went over Jimin’s plans– he was going to fix up the chicken coop first, as it was the easiest job on the list– the rasp of the coyote hybrid’s voice pleasant in her ears as he spoke. He seemed to relax a bit after a few moments, scooching closer to the edge of the chair to talk to her. When she opened up the toolbox to show him everything inside, trying to wrestle a screwdriver out of its spot, her fingertips nicked the sharpened edge of the tool, making her hiss in pain as the metal sliced the skin of her pointer finger.

“Ugh, I didn’t think those things could be so sharp,” Y/N whined pitifully, holding her injured finger up to her face, inspecting the wound with her lip jutting out into a pout.

The atmosphere immediately changed, and it was almost like the room dropped several degrees in temperature. In her folly, she hadn’t registered Jimin’s sudden silence, the way his posture turned coiled and rigid, and his tongue swiping over his lower lip hungrily. Quite literally forgetting that she was standing in Jimin’s room and that he was even in front of her, Y/N flinched in surprise when the coyote hybrid wrapped his roughened palm around her wrist. Pausing, she stared at Jimin with widened eyes, his own eyes a bit more lidded than she remembered them when they were discussing chicken wire. He was focused on the blood running down her fingertip, a pointed tooth biting down on the flesh of his lower lip, his jaw clenching once again.

“I should probably get a bandaid,” Y/N whispered, Jimin’s grip around her wrist delicate but keeping her in place. “Jimin?”

Apparently her words were falling on deaf ears, the coyote hybrid pulling her closer to him as if spellbound, and Y/N was similarly dazzled as she allowed him to tow her between his spread legs. Cringing as she caught a whiff of her own blood, she blanched when Jimin held her injured hand delicately right in front of his face. Just like that, she was ensnared by the coyote hybrid, eagerly holding her breath.

“Come here,” Jimin huskily broke the silence, mingling with the pattering of rain on his windowsill.

He spread his legs further, tugging her down carefully, a muffled squeak coming from her as she found herself perched on Jimin’s left thigh, his free arm wrapped around her waist and her legs dangling between his. Briefly, she felt like she was sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall– but the thought disappeared as soon as it popped into her head. His thigh was strong underneath her, toned from likely years of being an equestrian, but his arm slung around her waist was gently secure and tender, contrary to the fact that he’d really just pulled her down onto his lap.

“J-jimin?” Y/N breathed, close enough to him now to hear barely-audible growls bubbling up from the back of his throat, his eyes slipping shut at the sound of his name. Most of her hybrids seemed to have similar reactions when she said their names– she distantly wondered why that was. “What are you…?”

Y/N knew pretty well what Jimin was doing, but she couldn’t find her words to encourage him with her looking at her like she was an angel that appeared in his bedroom on a cloud. After sending her a pointed eyebrow raise, Y/N made herself comfortable in Jimin’s arms, his lavender shampoo calming. Her heart was pounding still, the intensity at which Jimin examined her head-to-toe dizzying, and his ears perked up forward and alert when her breath began to come out in shorter huffs and puffs.

“Is this alright?” Jimin whispered, slowly rotating her wrist by his lips, his voice so low and breathy she had to lean closer into his chest to hear him. She pulled her eyebrows together, because clearly it was okay– she wasn’t about to deny him an instinctual need, especially when the others had already done so before him– Y/N nodded either way.

“Yes?” Jimin hummed, his grip around her wrist loosening so he could swipe up a drop of blood running down her wrist with a pointer finger, the growls in his throat becoming more audible by the moment. “I’m yours? You’re mine?” Going completely still with this utterance, Y/N gasped, unable to break away from Jimin’s penetrative, hazy gaze. She knew, with all of the experiences she had with the others, that they tended to say things that seemed to stem from a more instinctual area of their brain before they scented, but the coyote hybrid’s words held such meaning that she could hardly process them rationally. She was his, she was all of theirs, there was no denying– each of them had completely claimed a spot in her heart– there was no room for conceiving the idea of ever abandoning them, which she knew was a reason many of them held off on the ritual in the first place, thanks to information she had learned on the internet shortly before Yoongi had scented her. Jimin, however, needed further confirmation, which she was more than willing to provide.

“Y-yeah. Yes, you’re mine,” Y/N managed to stutter, feeling Jimin’s hand wrapped around her waist drop to her thigh and squeeze ever so slightly.

Entranced, Y/N watched as Jimin pulled her wrist to his mouth, the only sounds now coming from the downpour filtering in from the cracked window behind the two of them. Keenly concentrated, Jimin ignored her blood, staining his own fingertip and running down her palm, choosing to pull the tender underside of her wrist to his lips at a glacial speed. Time was suspended, much of the rushed thrill from some of the scenting rituals she had been through with the others absent but the intensity still very much there.

“You smell so sweet…” Jimin growled, the hand on her thigh flexing against her muscles briefly; and Y/N could almost detect thin restraint in the grip, Jimin was ever the gentleman regardless of his animalistic instincts.

With her eyes half-closed, Jimin at last brought his lips to her flesh, placing a hot open mouthed kiss by her wrist bone. The ample petals of his mouth were delicate, but the action was searing against her flesh as he basically made out with her inner wrist, his devious tongue peeking out occasionally to trace along one of the veins closest to the surface of her skin. Mewling softly, Y/N slackened her body weight even further into Jimin’s embrace, letting him fully support her as he mopped up some of her blood with a swipe of his tongue.

“Jimin…” Y/N sighed dreamily once he passed over a particularly sensitive spot with a barely-there drag of his teeth, eyes drifting shut. “I–”

“Shhh…” the coyote hybrid shushed her tenderly, the pointed edges of his canines finally grazing what she presumed to be his chosen area to mark, Y/N hooking her free arm around Jimin’s neck without a second thought. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”

With a mixture of a groan and a primal growl, Jimin sunk his teeth into her vulnerable wrist almost painlessly, the action so smooth and sensual Y/N could only focus on the blissful expression blooming over the coyote hybrid’s sculpted face as soon as he broke skin. If she wasn’t limp before, she certainly was after that, Jimin’s plump lips wrapped around the edge of her wrist as he infused his scent with her own with his teeth buried in her flesh, and the cloudy sensation the bite brought on having her head lolling back onto the coyote hybrid’s shoulder. The calming scent of lavender enveloped her senses, and Jimin was being so gentle with her, she swore that she could fall asleep on his lap, listening to his measured breaths and the rain outside.

Through fuzzy vision, she watched Jimin not only brush his tongue over the bite he created, but also clean the blood from her wounded finger as well, satisfied grumbles coming from his chest by her ear. Giggling at the ticklish sensation, Jimin hummed, now holding her hand gingerly as he took a look at the screwdriver injury, his lips dropping into a tiny pout. Y/N reached out with her free hand, still chuckling weakly, and poked his fleshy cheek, indulging in a desire she had been harboring since she adopted him. His eyebrow cocked up in response, a playfulness in his golden eyes as she withdrew her hand, and he decided to retaliate by completely taking her off guard– he brought her wounded finger to his lips and enveloped the tip of the digit into his mouth.

Gasping, stared at Jimin’s lips wrapped around her finger, dissolving into utter shock as his tongue whirled around the cut, the minor sting disappearing under his ministrations. It was her turn to groan, not sure if the action of him tending to her wound in this way was sweet or total teasing on the coyote hybrid’s part. A distant part of her wondered if the soothing properties of hybrid saliva soothed all wounds, not just marks left behind by scenting, because it certainly felt like her cut was already treated and bandaged. He pulled the digit from his mouth slowly, never breaking the intense eye contact they were currently suspended in, Y/N realizing her hand around his neck was entwined with the cropped blonde hair at the base of Jimin’s neck, embarrassingly, tightly so.

“Better?” Jimin’s ears twitched, likely picking up her accelerated heart rate, finally releasing her hand and brushing some hair from her face. “You’ll still need a bandage, but it should be soothed. And, you should be more careful, Y/N.”

Mumbling into his shirt, Y/N secretly agreed with him; if that was how he reacted when she got hurt, it was better for her nerves to avoid doing so at all costs. She focused on Jimin’s forgotten book, cast aside from when she first entered the room, and he was reading her old copy of The White Album that he must have swiped from the library. Distantly, she recalled something Alice once said– nothing more attractive than a man who reads Didion.

“Alright, up you go,” Jimin cleared his throat, using his hand on her waist to nudge her up and forward, off of his thigh, standing with her as she got her footing. “I have some bandaids in my bathroom. Stay here, for a second.”

Jimin leveled a sweet smile at her, though his expression was serious and there seemed to be a few things floating around in his head, his eyes a bit far away. She shifted from one foot to another, humming as Jimin squeezed her shoulder softly before retreating to his bathroom, the sounds of him pawing through his vanity drawers making her ears perk up. Taking a moment to look around his room, it seemed that Jimin had made himself somewhat at home, though the room was quite unchanged compared to the day she brought the coyote hybrid home. The only things she noticed that indicated someone was occupying the recently renovated bedroom were bits and bobs on his dresser, which she neared closer to to get a good look.

The knapsack that he had traveled from Montana with hung from a knob on the dresser, but the contents were carefully placed on the surface of the dresser. On the left hand side, the formerly crumpled hat he had pulled out of the bag last week was smoothed out and sitting by a lamp, a couple pieces of jewelry (a silver bracelet, silver hoop earrings) placed on a leather square, and on the right was his coiled belt and buckle, as well as a photograph. Footsteps approached before she could take a look at the photo, Y/N peering up at Jimin with a sheepish expression when he caught her snooping. Simply smiling at her, he took her wrist gently, peeling paper off of the bandaid he’d fetched and wrapping it around her little injury. Her eyes drifted back to the photo, the edges of it weathered and crinkled.

“That’s me and my sister, I was twelve, she was nine,” Jimin plucked up the picture, offering it to Y/N gingerly.

Taking it like it was made of glass, Y/N brought the photo closer to her face, a tinier version of Jimin grinning at the camera on the back of a palomino horse, one of his front teeth missing and a mini cowboy hat placed precariously on top of his head. In front of him was a little girl, his sister, with the same honey blonde hair and bright golden eyes, her cheeks rounded as she was frozen mid-laughter, Jimin holding onto his sister tightly while she gripped the horse’s reins.

“Aw, Jimin! This is so sweet, you two are adorable, and you look so alike,” Y/N cooed, placing the picture back down on his dresser while still admiring it. She’d never been to Montana, but the nature surrounding the two young hybrids was gorgeous and wild. “I can find a frame for this, so you can display it properly.”

A pang of sadness spread through her chest, wondering if Jimin missed his sister, his family, and old life. Perhaps, in the future, there would be an opportunity for her to book a flight and take Jimin to visit his family– now that he was adopted and not on the run, there would be no reason for him not to go see them every now and again.

“You meant it, right?” Jimin asked quietly after a few moments, Y/N tearing her eyes away from the photograph to search his eyes with confusion. “A few moments ago… am I really…”

Yours. Y/N knew what he was getting at after scanning his expression, the coyote hybrid easier to read than some of the others she had adopted. Humming, Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to squeeze Jimin around his middle, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He hesitantly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her securely.

“Yeah. You’re mine. I’m yours.”

After a drizzly night spent watching Masterchef and devouring some kimchi stew and rice to combat the damp chill of the outside, Y/N made her rounds saying goodnight early once more, once she had cleaned up the kitchen with Yoongi and finished untangling herself from Hoseok on the couch. Shockingly, each hybrid besides Jeongguk and Namjoon had given her a big hug before she crawled to her bedroom with enough heat in her cheeks to fry an egg on the flesh. Though he hadn’t hugged her, Jeongguk let her dab a bit of blood off of his face with a tissue when she said goodnight to him from his spot on the recliner, a piece of his velvet hanging loosely from one of his antlers as he bit his lip and stared at her. Namjoon simply smiled at her, dimples and all, saying he’d see her in the morning.

Cursing when her alarm went off bright and early at 6:30 the next morning, Y/N sluggishly fumbled her way through her morning routine, blindly tapping out a wake up text with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.

Y/N: Good morning boys, ready to leave by 7:15?

Seokjin: Morning Y/N :) Yes!

Namjoon: ^^

Y/N: Perfect, see you in a few

Y/N shimmied into her outfit, some linen pants and a black long-sleeved shirt trimmed with lace she had fished out of the back of her wardrobe, hastily throwing on some Stevie Nicks-esque makeup. If she was going to work at a metaphysical shop, she might as well look the part. Satisfied, she left her room with her tote bag, making sure her wallet and keys were in there. She wasn’t paying attention, so she stumbled into Namjoon in the hallway, the wolf hybrid making a sharp oof sound as she collided into his back.

“Oh, sorry Joon,” Y/N wheezed, a bit of fuzz from the caramel sweater he was wearing sticking to her lip gloss and her head dizzy from smacking into a solid wall of back muscle. “In a fog… it’s so early,” she continued with a slight whine, Namjoon turning to face her with his face almost entirely pink.

“Um, it’s okay,” the wolf hybrid managed, coughing into his fist awkwardly as he followed her to the kitchen clumsily. She needed coffee, ASAP– she hadn’t even noticed Namjoon had been taken off guard by a nickname that had rolled off her tongue accidentally.

Yoongi was in the kitchen, naturally, still in his pajamas but placing items into paper bags. Of course, he already had her coffee ready for her, which had her reaching up to ruffle his hair in appreciation. Seokjin tiptoed into the kitchen shortly after, dressed neatly in a rose pink henley and jeans, excitement lighting up his orange eyes like a jack-o’-lantern.

After slamming some leftover pastries Yoongi made the other day down their throats, the leopard hybrid was shooing the three of them to the front door by 7:15, Namjoon and Seokjin scrambling to the car while she hung back. As she began to wave goodbye to him, Yoongi grabbed her elbow, halting her.

“Here, this is for lunch. Give one to each of the others, too,” Yoongi thrusted the three paper bags into her arms, making Y/N stare at him wildly. Yoongi made them lunch to go?

Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and up, planting a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, the leopard hybrid squeaking in surprise the moment her lips touched the sleep-rounded flesh. Pulling away, Y/N saw Yoongi had gone rather statue still, mouth dropped open in shock. Giggling, Y/N made her way down the porch steps, casting one more look at the stunned leopard hybrid standing with the front door wide open.

“Thank you, Yoongi! Have a nice day, I’ll see you tonight,” she called, waving at him with the lunch bags swinging in her fist. It felt nice to have somebody think of her, making sure she had something to eat midday. She’d have to pick up something extra delicious for dinner, in thanks.

The weather was cool, leftover from the rain the previous day, so as soon as she slid into the car, Y/N hiked up the heat in the cab, though it hardly worked, shooting Seokjin a smile in the rearview mirror. He returned it, accepting the bag she offered him with slight confusion.

“Yoongi made us lunch. Isn’t that nice?” Y/N sighed while settling Namjoon’s bag beside his thigh, flinging the car into drive and praying that she could beat traffic to get the two hybrids to the Boston Public Library in a timely fashion. Judy had told her to show up around 8:30, so she was definitely in a time crunch.

“Why is this camera down here?” Namjoon asked after a few moments of listening to the tinny Rolling Stones tape she had begrudgingly put on for him, pointing to the box by his feet.

“Oh damn, I have to wrap that…” Y/N muttered, honking at someone stalling at a green light. “I got it for Jeongguk, his birthday is on Thursday. I thought he could use it for his paranormal investigation, if he wanted to take it up again.”

“Are you throwing him a party?” Namjoon spoke again incredulously, picking up the camera box and examining it, from what Y/N could tell out of the corner of her eyes.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag! It’ll be just the eight of us, though. I like to celebrate birthdays. I ordered him a cheesecake last night, even,” Y/N relented, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hedge around Namjoon.

“That’s sweet, Y/N,” Seokjin offered from the backseat, Y/N catching his eyes in the rearview, his scrunched up in mirth.

“You two can keep a secret, right? I’m a little bummed I couldn’t keep it a surprise, now you know you two will be getting parties too,” Y/N pouted, jumping on the highway and cringing at a crackling skip in the tape.

The two hybrids fell silent with this, as she predicted. None of her hybrids particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, apart from Hoseok, of course. She knew that Seokjin would definitely keep the secret since she asked, and Namjoon and Jeongguk were a bit on the outs at the moment, so she wasn’t particularly concerned he’d spill the beans to the elk hybrid.

“So, since you know now, can you give me some ideas on what to get you for your own birthdays? I don’t want to pick out something you won’t like,” Y/N broke the silence, crossing her fingers over the steering wheel she’d get at least a semblance of an answer from either of them.

“Um…” Seokjin mumbled timidly from the backseat, fastidiously staring out the window to focus on the bay outside of Boston.

“I really wish that when I was brought into the shelter, I knew what happened to my trailer,” Namjoon spoke suddenly, stunning Y/N so much she accidentally stepped on the brakes by a ramp a little too hard. “I didn’t have much, but my tapes were in there, my books. It’s probably sitting in some junkyard now.”

“I can probably see what I can do about that,” Y/N began slowly, her mind already coming up with a list of all the junkyards and impound lots around Boston.

“It’s alright. It’s likely it’s been cleared out, or impacted already. Uh… maybe you could find an old Walkman at a thrift store, or something,” Namjoon looked down at his feet, ears fluttering.

“I’ll see what I can do about the trailer, I’m serious, Namjoon,” Y/N insisted, once again attempting to make eye contact with Seokjin through the rearview. “Jin? Come on, give me something to work with!” Y/N teased playfully, Seokjin clearing his throat and nervously wiping sweaty hands on his pants.

“I don’t really know,” Seokjin admitted softly, causing Y/N’s heart to ache. Seokjin was in a lab most of his life, and spent more recent years performing in a circus– perhaps there wasn’t much time for leisure or exploring interests. “Maybe we could all go to a restaurant?”

“We can do that! After the book club, check out some local restaurant menus online, we’ll go anywhere you want,” Y/N encouraged brightly, finally managing to navigate into the city and minutes away from Boylston street. “We’re almost there, I’m going to call my mom so she can meet you two out front.”

By the time she hung up from her mother, who was nearly shouting with excitement in her ear, she was double-parked in front of the library. She told the two hybrids when exactly she’d be picking them up from the library later that afternoon, that they could hang out and read until the club started around 11. As soon as her mother appeared at the top step of the library, Namjoon bid her a gentle goodbye, eagerly exiting the car and jogging up the stony steps of the building.

“I hope you have fun today, Seokjin! You can always text me if you need me,” Y/N watched as he unfastened his seatbelt, his tail curling around his waist in what she perceived to be in response to having to part with her.

“Good luck at work today, Y/N,” Seokjin replied, giving her shoulder a light squeeze as he pushed himself out of the car.

She stayed put until she saw her mother sling both her arms around the hybrid’s shoulders, talking to them animatedly as they disappeared into the library. Shaking her head, Y/N honked back at someone behind her, pissed that she was blocking part of the road, and set off to her new job.

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