Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse (please tell me if I missed anything out!)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
synopsis: Kim Taehyung was forbidden the moment your older brother, Namjoon, became friends with him. Falling for Taehyung was something you couldnât control. He was everything you wanted in a man and more. He met every standard of yours and exceeded them, but you could never bring yourself to confess to him, so you wrote your feelings down in nine letters and kept them in a shoebox. Though, Taehyung always went back to his first love, making you believe that there was no chance for you. You decided it was time to let him go. He could never be yours. That day, you wrote one last letter. Your goodbye letter.
pairing: brotherâs best friend!taehyung x fem!reader
genre / warnings: unrequited love, heavy angst, some fluff, slice of life, strong language, usage of alcohol, reader is a hopeless romantic and an art major!!, taehyung is oblivious as hell, jimin is your biggest supporter, jungkook and reader are so cute (they are bffs fr </3), jiminâs relationship with reader also makes me cry, flashbacks are in italics!
niniâs notes: my first one shot!! this may have a part two depending on how i feel and how well it does!! the letters aspect of this is somewhat inspired by tatbilb!! i really love this, i cried like six times writing this no joke, so i hope you enjoy it :â)!!
word count: 7.7K
main masterlist
You met Taehyung when you were fifteen. You remembered it as clear as day. You were in a bad mood having received a low score on your math exam. You could never understand the subject, it never made sense to you. You just wanted to go home and lock yourself in your room while you drown in your own self-pity. The big tub of vanilla ice cream that stood in your freezer had your name all over it.
âNamjoon! My ice cream better still be in the freezer! I swear I am not in the mood to deal with you right now, my day is going badly as is!â you shouted as you walked inside your house, shoving off your shoes clumsily. Your cheeks were tinted pink from the frosty weather. The cold weather made your bad mood worse.
Despite winter being your favorite season, today was way too cold and your mood wasn't the brightest. Your fingers reached up to grasp the fabric of your scarf, and you started pulling at it aggressively. An annoyed huff left your lips as you tried to untangle the mess.
âNamjoon!â you shouted again, eyes focused only on removing your scarf, and you didn't notice that there were other people beside your brother in the house. âDid you hear me? Iââ
Oh.
Six unfamiliar pairs of eyes stared at you in surprise.
âUh, Joon?â you squeaked out. Your fingers froze, still tangled with your scarf.
Your brother pinched his nose in exasperation before he flashed his friends an awkward grin, âSorry, guys. This is my little sister, Y/N. Don't mind her, she's a little crazy in the head sometimes.â
âYah!â you snapped. A deep chuckle broke through the chaos and your eyes were quick to glance over at the source.
You swore you had never seen such a beautiful man in your life before. He was the embodiment of your type. His beauty made you completely forget about the ridiculous math formulas and the low exam score you received.
You watched as he confidently stood up from the couch and extended his hand, âHi, I'm Taehyung.â
Hi, I think you're the love of my life. You thought to yourself as you gawked at him.
Your eyes trailed to his outstretched hand, as if it were a foreign thing to you. Namjoon could see Taehyungâs face slowly falling as he realized you weren't reaching out to return his gesture.
Namjoon coughed loudly, breaking you out of your trance. You hurriedly grasped Taehyungâs hand and your knees almost buckled. You've never thought a human hand could fit so perfectly with yours. Your heart thumped faster as a boxy smile appeared on Taehyungâs face.
âHi.â you breathed out. Taehyungâs smile grew wider and he squeezed your hand before letting it go.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your interaction but shrugged it off, âThis is Jin and Yoongi hyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook too.â As he listed their names, your eyes trailed over to each boy who gave you a small bow of their head or a smile.
âHi. Nice to meet you guys.â you awkwardly stated. You nervously shifted in place before sticking your thumb toward the direction of your room. âI'm gonna goâI, yeah.â
You were quick to spin around and scamper away. Your ears picked up the familiar deep chuckle which caused your heart to skip a beat.
That night, you wrote a letter for the first time.
Dear Taehyung,
I think you're an angel who fell from heaven to thaw my frozen heart.
A few years passed, and your crush on Taehyung grew stronger. Out of the boys that Namjoon befriended, you were closest with the youngest three; Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. That doesn't mean you weren't close with the others. You were just closer in age to the three.
No one knew of your crush except for Jimin. He immediately figured it out when he noticed your eyes seemed to always shine around Taehyungâs presence.
âYou like him.â Jimin muttered with wide eyes, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and Taehyung.
You tensed up and choked out a nervous laugh, âWhat nonsense are you going on about now?â
âOh, please.â Jimin rolled his eyes. âYou canât put up an act around me. I see right through you.â
âJimin.â you sighed.
Jimin softened, âY/N.â
âHe canât know.â Was all you said.
Jimin was quiet for a moment before he spoke, âCan you handle it? Bottling your feelings inside?â
You didnât answer. Jimin sighed and leaned down to place his head on your shoulder.
Jungkook, on the other hand, was dense and never picked up the small signs. He couldn't even tell if someone liked him or not. Taehyung was similar in that way but he knew enough to pick up the signs when a girl was crushing on him. Yet, when it came to you, he was completely oblivious.
âHey, are you going to the grad party tonight?â You glanced up from your laptop at the sound of a soft knock on your door. Your roommate, Sunni, had a hopeful look on her face. You weren't exactly a party person and preferred to stay in rather than go out. Sunni could see the distaste on your face already and was quick to blurt out, âTaehyung will be there.â
You gave her a wary stare, but Sunni didn't budge. She raised an eyebrow, âAnd so will Jimin and Jungkook, y'know our friends, your best friends? Look, it's Jimin and Taehyungâs senior year before they go out in the real world. Are you really going to skip out on their last hurrah?â
Your face fell at that. It was their last year. You and Jungkook were only in your second year so you still had some time before you would graduate.
âFine, but only because itâs for Jimin and Tae,â you grumbled, which caused Sunni to squeal.
âCome on! We need to find you an outfit!â Sunni was quick to walk to your closet and rummage through your rack of clothes.
âSeriously?â You whined. âI just organized my closet.â
âRelax.â Sunni scoffed, âYouâre acting as if I will make a complete mess. Iâm a clean freak, you know that, but thatâs beside the point. We need to find something sexy but cute.â
âIâm not trying to impress anyone, Sunni.â you snickered as you continued to type out your assignment for your English class.
âYou should! You're beautiful, sexy, and smart!â Sunni exclaimed with wide eyes. âAnyone would be lucky to date you!â
You laughed at her statement, âThanks, Sunni.â
âNow, put your assignment aside for the night.â Sunni grabbed a white lace halter top and a light blue jean skirt. A huge grin appeared on her face, âBecause tonight, we're gonna party.â
You sighed fondly, a grin plastered on your face as well.
You needed to let loose tonight.
By the time you and Sunni finished getting ready, the time for the party to start was approaching. The two of you took Sunniâs car and drove to the location of the party. From what Sunni told you on the way there, it was a seniorâs house that they recently bought with a couple of other people.
Sunni squealed as the two of you walked toward the entrance, âI'm so excited! You'll have a lot of fun, I promise!â
You merely laughed. You could only hope. Parties and you never mesh well together.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and reached back to grab it. A smile appeared on your face seeing that it was a text from Jimin. You didn't tell anyone that you were going as you wanted it to be a surprise.
Jimin: you're here???
You: surprise!! where are you??
Jimin: fuck
You: ???
Jimin: stay by the front door, ill come get you
You: jimin you're scaring me
Jimin left you on read and didn't answer which caused you to furrow your eyebrows anxiously. Your heart was beating rapidly and you glanced up to try to find Jimin. You felt a little calmer when you saw a familiar blonde coming your way.
âJimin!â you shouted over the loud music, your eyes flickering around his face. âWhatâs wrong?â
Jimin gave you a pitying look, âIf I had known you were coming, I would've warned you.â
âWhat?â you muttered with knitted brows.
âLina is here. With Taehyung.â
Oh.
Lina was Taehyungâs first girlfriend. The two had an on-and-off relationship since their freshman year. They would get into arguments, break up, and then get back together in a couple of weeks. Jimin didn't like her nor did the rest of the guys. They all believed Taehyung deserved better and Lina knew the hold she had on him so she would always come back to him because he would too.
âThey're back together?â Was all you could bring yourself to say.
Jimin rolled his eyes and took a big sip of alcohol from his cup, âDon't get me started. It's complicated, according to Taehyung. He and I got into a small argument about it and he's ignoring me right now.â
âTae? Ignoring you?â You gaped at him. Jimin gave you a sad smile and shrugged.
âMaybe you can smack some sense into him, Y/N.â Jimin sighed and his eyes softened, âHe just, I don't know, he seems to only listen to you somehow.â
âDon't say that.â you mumbled as you rubbed your forehead.
Jimin shrugged, âItâs true, but anyways, no more of this nonsense. Let's go drink and celebrate me finally graduating.â he grabbed your hand and paused, âAnd find Jungkook. God knows where that kid is.â
You snorted.
As Jimin guided you through the huge crowd, you subconsciously searched for Taehyung. You believed what Jimin told you but you just wanted to see it for yourself.
Maybe this is your sign to finally move on from him.
You loved him since you were fifteen.
You couldn't do this to yourself anymore.
Just as you were about to step into the kitchen, your eyes met a familiar pair of warm brown eyes. Your breath hitched. Taehyungâs eyes slightly widened upon registering that you were actually there. You noticed he slightly tensed up which caused Lina, who was sitting on his lap, to lean toward him and whisper something.
You gave him a small smile and looked away before he could return it.
âFind me a strong drink, Jimin.â
Jimin glanced back and smirked, âYou don't have to tell me twice.â
You and Jimin ventured further into the kitchen and the two of you finally made it to the nearby table where all the drinks were. Coincidentally, you found Jungkook there.
âY/N!â Jungkook gasped. His eyes lit up in complete joy and he rushed to embrace you, âI thought you said you weren't coming?â
âYeah, but Sunni managed to convince me.â You smiled and paused, taking a glance around the area, âWhoâI don't know where she went.â
âI saw her with her little boyfriend, Jaemin.â Jimin took a sip from his cup. âI think she'll be fine.â
You sighed in relief. You knew she was in good hands at least.
âI could treat her better but whatever.â Jungkook rolled his eyes. He had a slight crush on Sunni but you knew Sunni wasn't really that interested and Jungkook knew that but he liked to joke around about it.
You snorted, âSure, pal.â
âThanks, best friend.â Jungkook sarcastically muttered. He turned around and grabbed an unopened can of beer. âOh! Here. I know you don't like super-strong alcohol.â
âThanks, Kook.â You gave him a genuine smile, âBut, uh, I think I'd be down to drink some of that strong alcohol today.â
Jungkookâs jaw lightly dropped, âWho are you and what have you done to my Y/N?â he paused and frowned, âWait, who's dying tonight? Who are we killing?â Jimin snorted and you snickered.
Your heart warmed. Jungkook was truly your best friend. âNo one, doofus. I just want to let loose tonight.â
Jungkook raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Jimin, who gave him a nod, âHmmm. . . If you say so.â he passed you his cup, âTake mine. I'll grab a new one.â
âNoâit's okay.â You shook your head but Jungkook didn't budge.
âTake the cup. I don't trust anyone here.â
âI agree.â Jimin clicked his tongue and pointed to the cup.
âYou guys are too much.â You chuckled but they knew you didn't mean it.
âYeah, love you too.â Jungkook grinned, âOkay, I'll be right back and weâll party.â
âAre we going to get Tae?â you asked and Jungkook immediately rolled his eyes.
âNot if he's with her. I'm passing on that.â
Jimin slapped a hand on Jungkookâs shoulders, âIt's nice having someone who understands.â
You sighed, âIf she makes him happy, we should be happy for him.â
âDude.â Jungkook deadpanned, âSheâs literally the devil reincarnated. Taehyung experiences more sorrow than joy.â
Jimin cackled loudly at that. You opened your mouth to say something but found no words.
âOkay, be right back!â Jungkook turned and went to get a new drink.
âHe needs to learn the hard way, Y/N.â Jimin told you once Jungkook was out of earshot.
You didn't answer, merely drowning some alcohol down.
You had a few drinks in you now and you knew you were most definitely buzzed. Your head pounded as you continued to dance with Jimin and Jungkook.
âWait, guys.â You huffed and stopped in your tracks to hold your head. âI think I'm going to get some water. My headâs killing me.â
The two stopped and gave you a concerned look.
âI'll go with you.â Jimin didn't hesitate to offer but you shook your head and smiled.
âNo, no. It's okay. I'll be back quickly.â
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, âYou sure?â
âYeah.â you nodded with a laugh. Jimin reluctantly let you go and you started to make your way through the crowd, muttering apologies as you passed by.
You finally reached the kitchen and grabbed a cold unopened water bottle from the cooler.
âHey, you're Y/N, right?â You looked up to see a somewhat familiar guy. He looked decently handsome and you recognized him as one of your classmates.
âOh, hey! Luke, right?â
Luke smiled, âYeah! I didn't know you were a party type of person. You don't seem like one.â
âAh.â you chuckled, âI know some of the seniors that this party is for and they're my best friends so I came out to celebrate with them.â
âThatâs nice.â Luke grinned before his posture shifted into a more nervous stance, âUh, this is really random and super out of the blue, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me? I think you're really cool.â
Oh wow. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Luke was handsome but he wasn't really your type. He was quite far from it.
âOh, I'm sorry.â You gave him a sympathetic smile, âI'm not really interested but you seem like a great guy.â
Almost immediately, Lukeâs entire energy changed. His eyes grew dark and a snarky look appeared on his face.
âWhatever. You're not all that anyway.â
âWhat did you just say?â The two of you turned your heads to see Taehyung glaring harshly at Luke.
âTae.â you were quick to say, standing up taller to hold him back from potentially throwing a punch.
âNo.â Taehyung shook his head and stepped closer to you, his hand reached out to place his palm on your lower back. You tensed up at the touch and glanced up at him with wide eyes.
Taehyungâs eyes darkened as his glare remained on Luke, âI suggest you walk away before I do something Iâll regret.â
Luke scoffed. âWhat? Is she your girl or something?â
âYeah.â Taehyung raised a stern brow, âSo listen to what I said and walk the fuck away.â You froze.
What?
Luke rolled his eyes and scoffed again, mumbling incoherent phrases under his breath as he walked away.
You continued to stare at Taehyung in shock.
Taehyung quickly glanced down at you and his eyes softened. His brows furrowed in concern, âYou okay? He didn't try anything right?â
âNo,â you reassured him. âYouâYou didn't have to do that y'know.â
âI'll always protect you,â Taehyung stated with knitted eyebrows, confused as to why you would say such a thing. âYou know that.â
âI know.â You closed your eyes for a brief moment, âI'm talking about me being your girl.â
Taehyung paused. His mouth opened and closed before a sigh left his lips, âIt worked, didn't it?â
You pursed your lips, âYeah, I guess.â
He noticed the water bottle in your hand and glanced back at your face, his eyes flickered around, âYou drank a lot tonight, didn't you?â It wasn't really a question, but rather a statement because he knew the answer.
He knew you.
He always did.
âWant me to take you home?â Taehyung asked softly.
âWhat?â you muttered in disbelief.
âI'm kinda sick of the party already and you look tired. I can take you back to your apartment.â Taehyung shrugged.
You glanced over to the crowd of moving bodies and spotted Jimin and Jungkook who were a part of some dance train. Taehyung followed your stare and exhaled sharply.
âGo.â he nodded his head toward their direction, âLet them know. I can go start the car.â You gave him a hesitant look and he gave you a small smile, âI didn't drink tonight if that's what you're worried about. I wasn't in the mood.â
âOkay.â you sighed and Taehyung grinned. He tapped the tip of your nose before he left. Your heart raced. This was not good for you. So much for trying to move on.
You started to make your way back to Jimin and Jungkook. The two noticed you immediately and cheered.
âHey!â Jungkook shouted, âWhat took so long?â
âSome guy hit on me.â you answered before trailing off, âAnd Taehyung rescued me.â Jimin and Jungkook shared a look.
âHe's taking you home now, isn't he?â Jimin questioned and you only gave him a timid smile in response. Jimin sighed and pulled you into his arms, âLet me know when you're home then okay?â
Jungkook pouted and pulled you into a hug after Jimin released you, âMe too. If Taehyung does something, I don't care how long I've known him, I will fight him if something happens to you.â
You laughed. You did not doubt that Jungkook would actually do it.
âI will.â you smiled, âBye.â The two shared their goodbyes, and you went to find Sunni to let her know you would be leaving too. You spotted her in one of the corners chatting with some people.
âY/N!â Sunni squealed. She turned to her group, âGuys this is my cutie roommate, Y/N.â You gave her friends a small wave and smiled.
âI just wanted to let you know I'm leaving now,â you informed her, and she gave you a concerned look.
âYou're taking an Uber?â Sunni asked.
âNo, Taeâs taking me home.â
Sunni raised an eyebrow at that, âHm. Okay, stay safe, I'll be home soon too.â You nodded and gave her a quick hug before leaving to find Taehyung.
You reached the entrance and grabbed your shoes, putting them on and exiting the party. You were quick to spot Taehyung who was leaning against his car and scrolling through his phone.
At the sound of your footsteps, he glanced up and gave you a grin, âTook you long enough. Did you say bye to everyone in that house? I didn't know you were so popular.â
You rolled your eyes and let out a mocking laugh, âHaha. So funny, but I did, so we can go now.â
Taehyung chuckled and opened the passenger door for you to get in. Your heart warmed at the stupid action. It's the bare minimum, Y/N. Snap out of it.
Once you were inside, Taehyung quickly made it over to the driverâs seat and began to drive out. You buckled your seatbelt as did he and you felt yourself slightly shiver.
âCold?â Taehyung asked, reaching to adjust the air conditioner already.
âI'm okay, thanks,â you said. A few moments of silence passed before you decided to take a bold step, âSo, I heard you're back with Lina?â
Taehyung sighed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, âNo. It's justâcomplicated.â
âIsn't it always?â you huffed softly which made him crack a smile.
âWell.â you decided to change the subject as it seemed like Taehyung didn't really want to talk about his situation with Lina, âYou're graduating soon, what are you gonna do after?â
âI don't even know.â Taehyung laughed softly, âMaybe apply to work at some art museum. I've always loved art.â
âAnd you're also really good at creating art,â you interjected.
Taehyung glanced over at you and grinned. He turned back to the road and shook his head fondly. âYou're too kind Y/N.â
âIâm serious!â you whined. âYou should really sell your art. I know I would buy it!â
âYou're just saying that because you already know me.â
âI would buy your art in a heartbeat even if you were a complete stranger to me.â you were quick to snap back. Taehyung peered back at you for a brief moment and smiled.
âWhat would I do without my biggest supporter, huh?â
âProbably not know how to survive in this chaotic world.â you joked.
Taehyung paused for a second before a soft smile grew on his face. He looked over at you and a breathy laugh left his lips, âYeah. True. I wouldn't.â
You fell quiet. The sound that only you could hear was the thunderous pounding of your heart beating against your rib cage.
That night after Taehyung dropped you off at your apartment and made sure you had everything you needed. You wrote your sixth letter.
Dear Taehyung,
I told myself I would finally work on getting over you, but tonight, you just had to go and mess it all up for me. You set me back to square one. I'm scared.
Time flew by and now you were a senior. You still kept in contact with Jimin after he graduated but with Taehyung, you slowly lost contact with him. It hurt when it happened, but you realized maybe this was a blessing from the universe, it had given you a chance to finally move on.
âHey! You ready?â The sound of Jungkookâs voice broke you from your thoughts. A huge smile grew on your face at the sight of him. His outfit mirrored yours, a red cap and gown, and his neck adorned with numerous medals and cords.
âHey, fellow grad.â you laughed. Jungkook chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully. âYeah, I'm ready. We're starting soon?â
âYeah. So get your valedictorian ass up on that stage already.â Jungkook clicked his tongue, nodding his head toward the stage.
âSays you salutatorian.â You snorted and linked your arms with his.
Jungkook scoffed and nudged you, âCan't believe you beat my ass by one point.â
You stuck your tongue out at him which caused him to nudge you a little harder. You laughed loudly and the two of you made it onto the stage. You both took your seats as the president of your university walked up to the podium.
You glanced out in the crowd, taking in the faces of your fellow peers and friends. A smile appeared on your face when you spotted Sunni in the crowd. The girl gave you a wink that made you let out a quiet chuckle.
You hear the president introducing Jungkook as salutatorian which signaled that he would go up to present his speech.
âWish me luck.â Jungkook whispered and you gave him a bright grin and two thumbs up.
âYou got this. Make me proud, Kook.â
Jungkook chuckled and walked up to the podium. His speech almost made you cry but you held it in. You couldn't cry right before you would present your own speech.
âAnd finally, my greatest gratitude goes to my ride or die, Y/N L/N. Without her, I genuinely would've not survived these past four years. She's my confidant and best friend. She pushed me to be the best version of myself and I'm so thankful that I have someone like her in my life. So, Y/N, valedictorian of this wonderful class, it's your turn to be the tearjerker.â The crowd laughed loudly and you giggled as you stood up to walk to the podium.
You pulled Jungkook into a tight hug and Jungkook gripped you tighter. You rubbed his back and whispered, âLove you.â
âLove you more.â he whispered back before the two of you pulled apart. His eyes were glistening with tears and you cooed which made him scoff. You laughed before taking his spot at the podium.
You sighed deeply into the microphone before a smile appeared on your face, âGood morning, faculty and students. Today is the day. The day we all close our books and write a new one. It's definitely scary to step into a chaotic world without knowing what is actually waiting out there for us but I know how all of you are. You're strong, bright, and determined. Youâre all hard workers and today is proof of that.â
Your eyes flickered around the crowd and you noticed your parents beaming with pride. Namjoon was right beside them, tears visible in his eyes and you almost wanted to burst out laughing. He swore he wouldn't cry and yet here he was, not keeping his word. You notice the boys standing with him too. Yoongi, Jin, Hobi, and Jimin. Your heart cracked at the sight of no Taehyung. Maybe he's late.
He promised he would come to your graduation.
âWhen you graduate, I'll make sure to be the loudest there.â Taehyung placed his pinky out in front of you.
âReally?â you snickered and raised an inquisitive brow.
Taehyung grinned widely, âScoutâs honor.â
You laughed and intertwined your pinky with his. Taehyung's smile grew wider and he tapped your nose with his pointer finger causing your heart to warm.
You cleared your throat and focused back on the crowd of students in front of you. You inhaled sharply before continuing your speech, âIn life, there are things and people you must keep and let go of. To those who stood with you through thick and thin, never scared to go against the odds that were against you, keep them. People like them are very hard to come by.â The crowd laughed in agreement. You cracked a smile.
âAnd sometimes you have to let go of those who mattered most even when it's the complete opposite of what you want. I want you to know that it's okay. It's a part of the cycle. Continue on and bloom. You live only once and you must make the most of it. You can't be the reason or let anyone be the reason why you're held back from greatness. So when you leave today, choose yourself. Choose happiness, choose love, and choose to do what makes you happy. It's okay to be selfish so live for yourself.â The auditorium erupted in claps and cheers and you swore you could hear a loud sniffle behind you. You immediately knew it was Jungkook.
âAnd I want you to know that youâll always have a friend in me. You call, I run. So my fellow graduates, today we cheer for us and for our beautiful futures. Congratulations, you finished the first half of your journey. Keep soaring.â You smiled brightly and everyone in the audience stood up and cheered deafeningly.
The top ten of your class were first to walk the stage which included you and Jungkook. Then one by one, every student walked across the stage with their degree. After the president of your university shared his farewells and thanks, the students dispersed to their respective families.
âMy baby!â your mother cried out as she rushed toward you. You groaned affectionately when she reached up to cup your cheeks. âI'm so proud of you!â
âThank you, Mom.â You laughed.
Your dad sniffed and wiped a tear that fell down his face. âI can't believe how grown you are now.â
âYeah, can you go back to that kid who would always trail after me?â Namjoon walked up to you with a tearful smile and you scoffed. He pulled you into a tight hug which made you let out an âoofâ sound. âI'm serious. Can you go back?â
âLove you too, Joon.â You patted his back and he sniffled on your shoulders which caused you to snort. The two of you pulled away and Jin walked up to you with a proud smile.
âCongrats, Y/Nie!â Jin cheered and he pinched your cheeks.
âJin!â You whined and rubbed your face. Jin snickered at your reaction.
âCongratulations, Y/N.â Yoongi smiled and you beamed.
âThanks, Yoongi!â
âCongrats! I got you this flower lei!â Hobi sent you a heart-shaped smile. You gasped and bent your head down slightly so he could place the lei around your neck.
âIt's so beautiful! Thanks, Hobi!â
âWhereâs my lei at?â You hear Jungkook let out a scandalized gasp from behind you.
âJungkookie! Congrats, sweetie!â your mom cheered as she gushed over him. Jungkookâs cheeks burned red and he grew bashful.
âAh, thank you, Auntie.â Jungkook gave her a soft smile.
Your dad slapped a hand on his shoulders and gave him a grin, âCongrats, kid.â Jungkook beamed and thanked him as well. Everyone followed in congratulating him and you chuckled at the sight.
âThere's my favorite girl.â You turned to see Jimin beaming at you happily. You squealed and rushed to hug him.
âI missed you so much,â you muttered into his shoulders. Jimin chuckled and squeezed you tightly.
âI missed you more.â
âTaehyung?â you whispered so that only you and Jimin could hear. He gave you a sad smile and shook his head.
Your face fell, âHeâs really not here?â
âIâm sorry, Y/Nie.â Jimin mumbled sadly.
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You thought he was probably just late but to know that he just never attended broke you.
âItâs okay.â You gave him a light smile. âIâm just happy you were able to come. I know how busy you've been with work and traveling.â
Jimin blew out a breath and shook his head, âI love my job but it is so exhausting with the constant business meetings.â You laughed at that.
âSo, Y/Nie.â Jin wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you turned to see that everyone was surrounding you and Jimin. âI heard you're moving abroad?â
Your dad grinned at that, pride was clear on his face, âY/N here got a really big offer to manage this art museum in Paris. I think it's called the Louvre.â
âYou're moving to Paris?â Jungkook gaped at you in shock and you winced, âAnd working at the Louvre?â
âSurprise?â you sheepishly said. Your mom slapped your dad on the arm which caused a guilty look to appear on his face. âI was going to reveal it at our celebration party but Dad here got too excited.â
âHey! I'm a proud father, okay?â your dad defended himself. Everyone laughed.
âI know I don't say it a lot, but I'm really proud of you, Y/N.â Namjoon smiled, his dimples poking from his cheeks.
You pouted and you felt yourself tear up. âDon't say that, I'm going to cry now.â
Namjoon laughed loudly and pulled you into an embrace.
âOkay, let's go party now please!â Jungkook pleaded and you rolled your eyes with a snort.
âYeah, let's go.â
You were all back at your familyâs house and it was surrounded by family and friends. You spent a lot of time mingling but you needed a breather. So you were currently sitting on the balcony from your room.
âY/N?â You turned to see Jimin at the entrance of your room. He smiled at you, âThought Iâd find you here. Can I come in?â
You gave him a small grin and nod. You turned back to stare out at the night sky and sighed. You felt Jimin taking a seat beside you. The sound of the breeze and the chittering of insects was heard through the peaceful silence.
âHe tried to come.â Jimin muttered.
You swallowed, âWhat happened?â
âLina.â
You scoffed.
âThey're back together? Again?â
âI don't know.â Jimin breathed out.
You took a large sip from your cup and rubbed your eyes, âIâm tired, Jimin.â
âI know.â he whispered.
âI can't keep going on like this.â
âThen why do you?â
A shaky sigh left your lips, âBecause somewhere inside of me, I believe that maybe there is a chance. Maybe everything he's done for me was because it was in his interest in me. Why would he pretend that I was his girl that one night? Why is he always the first one to my rescue when I need saving? Why, Jimin, why?â
âI don't know why,â Jimin answered softly. âBut what I know is that a few months after our graduation, he stopped trying to stay in contact with you.â
You got quiet and you turned to face him, "How do you know that?â
He cracked a sad smile, âBecause he always asks me how you are.â You froze. âAnd whenever I ask why can't he ask you himself, he gets quiet.â
Your breath hitched and you felt your eyes sting with tears. You were quick to glance away from Jimin and stare back out at the sky. The moon seemed to shine brighter all of a sudden.
âWhat happened to you two?â Jimin asked quietly.
A few moments of silence passed.
âWe grew up,â you answered. âI grew up. I think I stopped trying.â
Jimin hummed. âIâm proud of you. Really.â
You cracked a smile at that.
âWill you ever give him your letters?â Jimin questioned faintly.
You were quiet for a while. Your letters were sacred to you. It contained every honest and raw feeling you had for Taehyung. Maybe this whole time you could never move on was because you still held on to those letters. Maybe the key was to let them go. If you give it to him, you'll finally move on.
You turned to Jimin, âI think I will.â Jimin gave you a surprise look, âI think I will finally be able to let go of him if I do it.â
âBesides, I won't have to face him any time soon.â
Jimin looked at you confused now.
You sighed, âI leave tomorrow. First thing in the morning.â
Jiminâs eyes widened, âY/N.â
âI know.â you exhaled sharply. âBut this is what I worked for my whole life. This is it.â
âEveryone knows?â Jimin asked.
âOnly my parents and Joon right now. I plan to tell the others later when I go back down.â You replied.
The sound of Namjoon yelling Jiminâs name from downstairs was heard which caused the two of you to look toward your bedroom door.
âSomeoneâs being called.â you snickered.
Jimin sighed and chuckled lightly. He got up from his seat and gave you a reassuring smile. âIâm here for you through everything, okay?â
You smiled back and nodded, âThanks.â
Jimin winked and turned to leave but stopped when you called out to him.
âHey, Jimin?â He gave you a confused look. âDo you think you can give the letters to Tae?â his eyes softened and he nodded.
âYeah, I can do that.â
âThank you.â you breathed. Jimin gave you one last smile before leaving.
You felt your phone vibrate and you saw that it was a text from Taehyung. Your heart dropped. The two of you hadnât texted in months.
Taehyung: iâm sorry i wasnât at your graduation, i tried really hard to. congratulations y/n, iâm proud of you :)
A lump formed in your throat and you felt your eyes well up with tears. You decided to ignore his text and face the night sky again.
That night, you wrote your goodbye to Taehyung.
Taehyung,
I graduated today and you weren't there. I read your text and I chose to ignore it.. I think if I answered I wouldâve lost all the progress I made. I think this is for the best anyway. I spent the better half of my teenage years in love with you and that journey taught me a lot. You taught me a lot. Even though we don't talk anymore, you're still one of the most important people in my life.
Goodbye Taehyung,
I'll always love you.
It was the next day, and you had to leave for your job now. Everyone was at the airport, teary-eyed but filled with happiness. You took in everyoneâs faces and pouted.
âI'm going to miss you all so much.â you cried and rushed to try and hug everyone. Your mother cooed and caressed your hair as she tried to calm you down but it didn't really help. Your sobs were muffled against Namjoon's shoulders and you could hear that he was crying too. You pulled back, eyes brimming with tears.
âOkay, no more tears please.â Jungkook sniffled. He used the end of his sleeve to wipe any stray tears and gave you a sad frown, âIâm mad that you're leaving me but happy for you because you're achieving your dreams.â
You laughed tearfully and pulled the taller man into a hug. He was quick to squeeze you tightly.
One by one, you hugged everyone one last time. Namjoon sported a proud grin but his red eyes gave away his true emotions which made your heart break. He was your big brother and seeing your little sister leaving wasn't easy. Jin, and surprisingly, Yoongi looked about the same as Namjoon. Hobi was a complete mess, sniffling into his tissue every now and then. Jimin looked like he was about to break down but he held it in pretty well.
You hugged Jimin last and the blonde man made sure to hold you tighter and longer. When you pulled back, you handed him a stack of sealed letters that were tied with a red string. Jimin immediately recognized what they were and gave you a sad smile.
âThank you.â Your voice cracked.
âOf course.â Jimin muttered back before hugging you again. You breathed out a shaky sigh and squeezed him.
The two of you broke apart and you gave everyone a small smile before slowly departing. Once your back was turned toward them, your heart grew heavier.
This will be good for you. This is what you need.
Jimin hasn't seen Taehyung in a while. The two of them were quite busy, Jimin with the numerous meetings with different businessmen and Taehyung being the head of managing a renowned art museum.
The two were still close but not as much as they were in college, especially now that Taehyung was back together with Lina. They rarely ever talk now.
For you though, Jimin had to break the silence. He had to. It was for your own well-being. You deserved better and he wanted to make sure you would.
Jimin was in front of Taehyungâs apartment door and with a sigh, he knocked. A few minutes went by before the door opened. Taehyungâs eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of Jimin.
âJimin.â Taehyung breathed out. âHi! Uhâcome in.â he stepped aside for the blonde to walk in and Jimin gave him a tight-lipped smile as he stepped inside.
âLinaâs not here is she?â Jimin cleared his throat.
Taehyung inhaled sharply and shook his head, âNo. Itâs over between us.â
âReally?â Jimin sarcastically laughed. His eyes were dark with anger, âYou sure? Because Iâve heard that phrase a million times now.â
Taehyung sighed and clenched his jaw, âIâm serious. Itâs over.â
âYou missed her graduation.â Jimin snapped.
âI know.â Taehyung retorted harshly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and rubbed his face, âIâve been beating myself over it since last night, okay? Lina completely fucked me over and I couldn't get out of the plans she made because it was a done deal. I got even more pissed finding out that she purposely made the plans on Y/N and Jungkookâs graduation so I would miss it.â
Jiminâs lips parted in shock. His eyes softened and any fury in his body vanished.
âWhat are you doing here anyway?â Taehyung muttered tiredly, âWe haven't talked in forever and I know it's awkward between us right now.â
âY/N.â Jimin answered.
Taehyung froze.
âWhat about her?â Taehyung muttered softly. His voice dropped to that particular tone that he always spoke in whenever he talked about you.
Jimin didn't respond. He merely grabbed something from his back pocket and handed it to Taehyung.
Taehyungâs eyebrows furrowed together at the stack of letters in Jiminâs hands. He hesitantly reached out to grab it and his heart dropped at the familiar handwriting.
Taehyung. His name was written in a beautiful elegant cursive. He knew this was you.
âWhat is this?â Taehyung choked out.
âJustââ Jimin sighed, âJust read it.â
Taehyung swallowed harshly before he slowly opened the first letter on top of the stack. A neatly folded paper was in the envelope and he gradually unfolded it.
His eyes trailed over the words.
May 3rd, 2012.
That was the day you two met.
Dear Taehyung,
I think you're an angel who fell from heaven to thaw my frozen heart.
Taehyungâs breath hitched.
His eyes frantically read the words over and over again.
He moved to the next letter.
Dear Taehyung,
Is this love? I think it is. I always hear the birds singing louder whenever you're near. Maybe I'm just crazy, but maybe I'm not. Because I swear every time you smile at me, my heart jumps into the shape of your smile.
Taehyungâs eyes started to burn.
Dear Taehyung,
You're the only person who doesn't make me feel like I'm alone. I love Jimin and Jungkook but sometimes I don't think they understand me. Thank you for being that person for me. I don't know what I would do without you. I'm scared, Taehyung. I think I'm falling harder.
A shaky breath left Taehyungâs lips and he felt like his knees were about to buckle.
Dear Taehyung,
Today was the worst and best day ever for me. I hated going on the roller coasters but your encouragement pushed me not to be scared. You made today fun. You always knew how to make me feel better, and that still scares me. I don't think I can ever shake you out of my system.
Taehyung let out a choked cry as his knees started to quiver. Jimin started to tear up at the distraught sight of him.
Dear Taehyung,
You left for college today. I cried two times after you and Jimin said goodbye. I hope college treats you well. I know you will do amazing things and I can't wait to hear about them. Remember that I'll always be in your corner! Fighting!
Taehyung felt himself drop to the floor. A trembling whimper left him as he read the next letter.
Dear Taehyung,
I told myself I would finally work on getting over you, but tonight, you just had to go and mess it all up for me. You set me back to square one. I'm scared.
The hole in Taehyungâs chest grew. His vision started to get blurry as he continued to read.
Dear Taehyung,
I think I am completely and irrevocably in love with you. Every time you laugh, my heart turns into a mess. Every time you tap my nose, my heart decides it's only you. I'm really scared now. What should I do, Taehyung? You've wrecked me entirely.
A stifled sob escaped Taehyung. His head hurts now and his heart burns.
Dear Taehyung,
It's been a few months since you graduated now and I miss you. A lot. You're a big manager at your dream art museum now and I couldn't be more happier for you! I still think you should sell your art and I hope you do one day! Maybe, I'll work at the Louvre and your art will be displayed!
A few tears fell onto the next letter and Taehyung felt his heart drop at the first few words.
Dear Taehyung,
My graduation is coming up and I'm valedictorian. Jungkook is super salty over it but I hope you're proud of me! We haven't talked in months now and I tried keeping in contact but I guess our lives just got too busy. I miss when we were careless kids laughing over stupid things. I got a job offer at the Louvre too! Crazy, right?! It was a big surprise for me but I'm super happy! I hope to see you at my graduation and tell you all about it! Love you. Miss you.
Taehyung leaned back against his couch and let out a shaky breath. His hand came up to wipe away his tears.
Taehyung,
I graduated today and you weren't there. I read your text and I chose to ignore it.. I think if I answered I wouldâve lost all the progress I made. I think this is for the best anyway. I spent the better half of my teenage years in love with you and that journey taught me a lot. You taught me a lot. Even though we don't talk anymore, you're still one of the most important people in my life.
Goodbye Taehyung,
I'll always love you.
This was the last letter and Taehyung knew this was it. He noticed there was no âDearâ. You had let him go. Taehyung grasped at his chest and cried. Jimin, who stood watching him, quietly sniffled, his heart clenching in pain for his friend.
âShe kept looking for you at her graduation.â Jimin revealed gently.
That didn't help Taehyung at all, it only caused him to cry harder. He glanced up at Jimin with swollen eyes, âWhere is she?â
Jimin was quiet.
Taehyung grew anxious. He felt his eyes sting, âJimin. Where is she?â
âSheâs gone, Tae.â Jimin quietly replied, âShe left for Paris.â
Taehyung felt his whole world collapse.
You were right there in front of him this whole time and he was so blind.
No, i shouldn't have read this as the first thing to read when you wake up because what is this?? I haven't started my day and my heart is aching. Hello???
Is there some medication for this
Omg.
It's beginning to want a happy ending. I CANNOT DO HEAVY ANGSY AND UNREQUITED LOVE-
Summary: Y/N is someone who never planned to adopt a hybridâuntil she meets Jungkook, a withdrawn rabbit hybrid feared by everyone at the shelter. She brings him home thinking itâll be a quiet fresh start, but strange signs soon appear: a scar on his neck, panic around cars, and someone suddenly digging into his records.
When threats begin to surface, Y/N realises Jungkook wasnât simply abandonedâhe was taken, tracked, and never meant to stay free. With no power or connections, sheâs forced to fight in the only way she can: by refusing to give him back, and protecting him with everything she has.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut (I'll add on more when I write more!)
Jungkook shifted in the blanket between your legs, ears twitching restlessly. He hadnât settled since you left the apartment. Not after the messages. Not after the way your phone had vibrated like it carried bad news in its bones.
âItâs just a check,â you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction. âThatâs all.â
You didnât know who you were trying to convince.
You gathered the blanket around Jungkook more securely and stepped out of the car, eyes automatically scanning the street. Empty. Quiet. Too quiet, but no figures lurking, no unfamiliar vehicles idling nearby.
You approached the door and entered the code the shelter specialist had texted you earlier.
The lock clicked, and the door slid open.
Inside, the air was warmer. Softer. It smelled faintly of antiseptic and something floral â lavender, maybe. The lights were low and yellow instead of blinding white, and the floor beneath your shoes had a slight give to it, padded rather than tiled.
Jungkook shifted again, peeking out from the blanket.
âItâs okay,â you murmured. âSee? Not scary.â
A woman stepped out from behind a frosted glass panel. She looked older than you expected â calm, composed, hair pulled back neatly, eyes sharp behind thin glasses.
âYou must be Ms L/N,â she said quietly. âIâm Dr. Min.â
You nodded. âYes. Thank you for⊠for fitting us in.â
Her gaze flicked briefly to the bundle in your arms, assessing without intruding. âOf course. Letâs head to Room Three.â
She led you down a short hallway and into a room that looked more like a small lounge than a medical space. There was a couch, soft mats on the floor, a heat lamp in one corner, and medical equipment tucked discreetly behind sliding panels.
The door closed behind you with a soft hiss.
Dr. Min turned, her expression serious now. âTell me whatâs been happening.â
You took a breath.
You told her everything â the shelterâs call, the flagged adoption record, the mention of an ownership search. You told her about the scar youâd noticed at the base of Jungkookâs neck. About the messages youâd received from an unknown number.
You did not tell her you were brave.
You were not.
Your hands shook as you spoke, voice faltering more than once. You were a lawyer in the Association, you understood how important and dangerous such cases can be. Hell, youâve even done cases like this yourself for work. And yet, you felt like you didn't know how to approach this situation.Â
Dr. Min listened without interrupting.
When you finished, she exhaled slowly. âYou did the right thing bringing him here.â
Jungkook shifted at the sound of her voice, pressing closer to you.
Dr. Min crouched â not directly in front of him, but slightly to the side, keeping her profile non-threatening.
âJungkook,â she said gently. âI need to check something on you. I wonât hurt you. But I need your permission.â
He stared at her.
Then he looked at you.
Your chest tightened painfully.
âItâs okay if you donât want to,â you said softly. âBut if thereâs something under your skin⊠it could hurt you later.â
Jungkook hesitated.
Then he leaned into your leg.
Your breath caught.
Dr. Min nodded once. âThank you.â
She activated a small handheld scanner and held it a few inches from the back of Jungkookâs neck. The device hummed quietly.
Then it beeped.
Once.
Twice.
Dr. Minâs face hardened.
âThere it is,â she said quietly.
Your stomach dropped. âItâs⊠real?â
âYes,â she confirmed. âA subdermal tracker. Old model. Illegal.â
Your hands curled into fists without you realising.
âHow long has it been there?â you asked.
Dr. Min checked the display. âSeveral years. Implanted when he was much younger.â
You felt sick.
Jungkook made a small, distressed sound and burrowed deeper into the blanket.
You tightened your hold around him. âHey. Iâve got you.â
Dr. Min straightened. âI need to be clear with you. I canât remove this today.â
Your heart skipped. âWhy not?â
âRemoval requires a proper surgical suite and sedation,â she explained. âRushing it could cause unnecessary trauma. And given the circumstancesâŠâ She paused. âThereâs a chance someone is already trying to locate him.â
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, as if summoned.
You didnât check it.
âSo what do we do?â you asked, panic creeping into your voice.
Dr. Min studied you carefully. âAre you affiliated with the Hybrid Association? Legally, professionally?â
You nodded your head quickly. âYes⊠I work in thr legal department. I adopted him becauseââ Your voice cracked. âBecause he needed someone.â
Something softened in her gaze.
âAlright,â she said. âThen we proceed carefully.â
She explained slowly, deliberately. About shielding. About moving him as little as possible. About avoiding predictable routines. About bringing him back in two days for removal under safer conditions.
âThis shouldnât be happening,â you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. âI didnât sign up for this.â
âNo one ever does,â Dr. Min said quietly.
Your phone buzzed again.
This time, you checked.
Unknown number:You shouldnât have taken him.
Your breath left you in a rush.
Dr. Min noticed your reaction immediately. âWhat is it?â
âThey know,â you said hoarsely. âThey know I have him.â
Jungkook startled at the change in your breathing, trembling in your arms.
Dr. Min moved quickly. âWe need to get you out of here. Now.â
âWhat?â You blinked. âI thought this place wasââ
âIt is safe,â she said. âBut not if someone is actively watching for movement.â
She ushered you toward a side door. âBack exit. No cameras. Go straight home. Do not stop anywhere.â
Your heart hammered.
As you stepped into the cold alley behind the clinic, another message came through.
Unknown number:Bring him back. This doesnât have to get ugly.
Your hands shook so badly you almost dropped your phone.
You hugged Jungkook closer, his ears flattened against his head.
âNo,â you whispered fiercely, though no one was there to hear you. âNo.â
Dr. Min pressed a small card into your hand. âMy direct number. If anything feels wrong, you call me. Even if itâs midnight.â
âThank you,â you breathed.
You didnât know how you made it back to the car. Everything felt surreal, like you were watching yourself from a distance â buckling him in between your legs again, checking mirrors too many times, driving faster than usual but not enough to draw attention.
The city lights blurred past.
Jungkook stayed unnaturally still, like he was bracing for something.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered to him. âI thought⊠I thought I could just give you a home.â
His small paws pressed against your sweater, gripping tightly.
The grip said everything he couldnât.
Back in your apartment, you locked the door, double-checked it, then slid down against it, Jungkook still clutched to your chest.
You laughed weakly, tears burning your eyes. âI donât know what Iâm doing.â
Jungkook shifted, lifting his head to look at you.
Slowly, carefully, he pressed his forehead against your chin.
A small, steady weight.
Trust.
Your breath hitched.
âI wonât give you back,â you said, voice trembling but resolute. âI donât care who they are. I donât care what they threaten.â
He burrowed into your collarbone.
And in that moment, you understood something with terrifying clarity:
You werenât equipped for this.
You werenât powerful.
You werenât trained.
But you were all he had.
And if protecting Jungkook meant stepping into a world far bigger and darker for yourself as a different party than your quiet office life that helps others â
Then you would learn.
Even if it scared you just as much as it scared him.
To answer your questionnnnnn: No, I don't use AI to write my work. I may use it to generate some plots so that it gets me thinking, some scenarios so that I can write especially in a writers block, some where I take excerpts of for inspiration, but to write the work - never.
I spend my hours on my devices, writing what I post. All my work is my own.
That said, people are free to believe what they choose to believe. I cannot control what others think, nor do I intend to spend my time trying to do so.
It hurts though, that getting spammed by the same people on my work. I'll take it as a compliment that some people may find my work AI written since AI is a code that holds the knowledge of the world.
To those blogs and accounts that enjoy speculating about how I write my fics: I would recommend that you spend less time analysing strangers and more time focusing on yourselves. You are under no obligation to read my work if you don't enjoy my work. What I do ask is that people refrain from presenting assumptions as facts or attacking others simply because they hold an opinion. Disagreement is fine but harassment is not.
Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut
Taglist: @lovejkmilitarywife @forevermoon1306
WC: 2721
< Prev. Series mstr. Next >
The message waited.
Not like something urgent. Not flashing, not demanding. Just⊠there. Sitting quietly on your screen the way certain truths didâunchanged by how long you avoided them.
You woke late, the fever finally gone but leaving behind a body that felt borrowed. Your limbs were heavy, movements sluggish, as if gravity had recalibrated itself overnight. The sharp edge of sickness had dulled into something achey and disorienting, a reminder rather than a threat.
Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains in uneven stripes, catching on the edges of furniture, warming the floorboards just enough to feel kind. The apartment smelled faintly of ginger and paper and something clean underneath it allâMr. Hanâs doing.
You lay still, listening.
Downstairs, the bookstore was already awake. You could hear it in the way sound carried upward: the muted scrape of a chair, the soft thud of a book set down, the low murmur of Mr. Hanâs voice as he greeted the first customer of the day. Familiar rhythms. Anchors.
The second time you awoke was from Mr. Han knocking. He let himself in, tray balanced carefully in his hands.
âYouâre cooler,â he said after pressing his palm lightly to your forehead. Relief flickered across his face before he smoothed it away. âThatâs progress.â
You nodded, voice scratchy. âI feel like I got hit by a bus.â
âThen today you rest like someone who respects buses,â he replied, setting the tray down. Toast. Fruit. Tea. âNo heroics.â
You smiled faintly.
He hesitated, then glanced toward your phone on the bedside table. Face up. Still.
âIt buzzed last night,â he said neutrally.
You followed his gaze. âI know.â
He didnât ask who. He never did. Instead, he adjusted the blanket around your shoulders with practiced care. âIâll be downstairs.â
After he left, the room settled againâlighter somehow, like your body had finally stopped fighting itself. You reached for your phone this time.
Namjoon:
I hope youâre resting. No need to reply. I just wanted you to know I came by. Iâm sorry if that crossed a line. Take care of yourself.
That was all.
No justification. No explanation dressed up as politeness. No attempt to fill the silence heâd created.
You stared at the message longer than necessary.
There was something almost painful about its restraint.
You set the phone back down without replying and rolled onto your side, facing the window. Outside, the city moved onâcars passing, voices drifting up from the street, life continuing with its irritating indifference.
Your chest tightened.
Namjoon didnât expect a response.
That didnât stop him from checking his phone anyway.
Heâd spent Sunday afternoon reorganising his apartmentâan excuse to stay moving, to keep his hands busy while his thoughts spiralled uselessly. Books reshelved by height instead of topic. Kitchen wiped down twice. Laundry folded with near-military precision.
By evening, he was sitting at his desk with a legal brief open in front of him and no idea what it said.
Yuna watched him from the couch, legs tucked beneath her, expression unreadable.
âYou look worse than yesterday,â she said finally.
âHigh praise.â
âYou went, didnât you.â
He didnât bother denying it. âShe wasnât there.â
âBut sheâs sick.â
âYes.â
âAnd you didnât barge upstairs like an idiot.â
âNo.â
Yuna studied him. âYouâre learning.â
He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. âHer father doesnât trust me.â
âHe shouldnât,â Yuna said without hesitation. âNot yet.â
That stung more than he expected. She noticed.
âThatâs not an insult,â she added. âItâs just⊠earned. Trust takes time.â
âI donât know how to exist in the meantime,â Namjoon admitted quietly.
Yunaâs voice softened. âYou sit with the discomfort instead of trying to control the outcome.â
He laughed under his breath. âIâm terrible at that.â
âI know.â
By Tuesday, you were well enough to sit by the window with a book, though you read the same page three times without absorbing any of it. Customers drifted through the shop below in quiet waves. The bell chimed. The floorboards creaked familiarly beneath Mr. Hanâs steps.
Normal resumed itself gently, like the world offering you a way back without demanding explanations.
âYou slept better,â he added.
âI didnât dream,â you said. Then, quieter, âThatâs new.â
He hummed thoughtfully. âMeans your body stopped fighting.â
You hesitated, then glanced toward your phone. âSomeone came by.â
He didnât look surprised. âI know.â
âDid I⊠cause trouble?â
Mr. Han turned to you fully, his expression firm. âNo.â
You exhaled slowly.
âHe was worried,â he continued. âClumsy about it. But sincere.â
You closed your eyes briefly. âThat doesnât make it easier.â
âNo,â he agreed. âIt rarely does.â
He stood, adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, and paused. âYou donât owe him a response just because he waited.â
âI know.â
âBut,â he added gently, âif you do respond, do it because you chose to. Not because silence feels like punishment.â
The words settled deep.
After he left, you picked up your phone again.
This time, you typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Your fingers hovered, uncertainty tightening your throat.
Finally, you wrote:
You:
Iâm recovering. Thank you for checking in. I appreciate the space.
You stared at it for a long moment, then sent it before you could second-guess yourself.
The phone buzzed almost immediately.
Namjoon:
Iâm glad to hear that. And of course. Take all the time you need.
You didnât reply.
But you didnât feel the urge to disappear either.
Namjoon reread the message twice, then set his phone face down on the desk.
Across the room, Yuna watched him with an expression that suggested sheâd been waiting for this moment.
âShe replied,â she said.
âYes.â
âAnd you didnât immediately self-sabotage.â
He sighed. âIâm trying.â
âGood,â she said. âBecause if youâd pushed, I wouldâve smacked you.â
âI assumed.â
She leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. âHow does it feel?â
He considered that carefully. âLike standing in the doorway of a room Iâm not sure Iâm allowed to enter.â
Yuna nodded. âThen donât barge in.â
âI wonât.â
She studied him for a moment longer. âYou care about her.â
âYes.â
âNot in a dramatic way,â she clarified. âIn a dangerous one.â
He didnât argue.
By Wednesday, you were restless.
Strong enough to move, too tired to be productive, and deeply uncomfortable with being confined to the apartment. Mr. Han noticed immediately.
âYouâre pacing,â he said from behind the counter.
âIâm not.â
âYouâve walked past the poetry section six times.â
You grimaced. âI need air.â
He sighed, already reaching for his coat. âYou need supervision.â
âI need autonomy.â
âYouâre still pale.â
âIâm always pale.â
He gave you a look. âSit in the shop. No lifting. No customers.â
âI donât take customers anyway.â
âYou absolutely do.â
You smiled despite yourself.
Sitting among the shelves felt like easing back into your own skin. The bookstore wrapped around you gently, familiar and forgiving. Customers came and went, offering polite nods, quiet smiles. No one asked questions.
Your phone stayed in your pocket.
Thursday arrived before you were ready for it.
The sky was painfully clearâtoo blue, too sharp, like the city was trying to make a point. You spent the morning upstairs, sorting through inventory lists without much focus, your thoughts drifting despite yourself.
By late afternoon, you went downstairs again.
Mr. Han glanced at you. âYouâre tired.â
âI know.â
âYou donât have to stay.â
âI want to.â
The bell chimed at five-thirty.
You felt it before you saw him.
That familiar tightening. That sense of something shifting just out of view.
You turned slowly.
Namjoon stood just inside the doorway, hands at his sides, posture rigid with restraint. He hadnât expected to see youâhis surprise was evident in the way his breath caught.
âI can come back,â he said immediately.
âNo,â you replied. âItâs fine.â
He nodded once and stepped further inside, careful, measured.
âYou shouldnât be standing,â he added, then winced. âSorry. That wasnâtââ
âItâs okay,â you said. âSit with me.â
He followed you to the reading table, movements deliberate, like he was afraid sudden motion might shatter something fragile between you.
Up close, you noticed the tension in his shoulders, the faint shadows beneath his eyes. He looked⊠worn.
âYou look tired,â you said.
âSo do you.â
A small, shared truth.
âI didnât want to assume youâd want to see me,â he said quietly. âI almost didnât come in.â
âBut you did.â
âYes.â
âWhy?â
He didnât answer right away. Instead, he looked around the shopâthe shelves, the light, the quiet life continuing around you.
âBecause pretending this doesnât matter hasnât been working,â he said finally.
Your chest tightened.
âIâm not good at absence,â he continued. âI mistake it for control.â
You studied him carefully. âAnd now?â
âAnd now Iâm trying to let it just⊠be.â
You leaned back in your chair, exhaustion tugging at you. âI disappear when I donât know how to be seen.â
He nodded slowly. âThat makes sense.â
Silence settled againâbut it wasnât empty this time. It was full of awareness, of things aligning just enough to hurt.
âI donât know what comes next,â you said.
âI donât either,â he replied. âBut I donât want it to be avoidance.â
You met his gaze.
âThen we start with honesty,â you said. âNot answers. Just honesty.â
He exhaled. âI can do that.â
Not a promise.
Not a resolution.
Rather, a choice.Â
You have decided that this Monday was just not it. An email arrived at 8:07 a.m., subject line bland enough to be harmless.
You read it once, then again, the words rearranging themselves into something heavier with each pass.
Municipal review.Zoning reassessment.Potential structural noncompliance.
Your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
Downstairs, the bookstore was quietâtoo quiet for a weekday morning. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunlit air. The bell hadnât chimed in nearly half an hour.
Mr. Han emerged from the back room with two mugs of tea, already reading your face.
âWhat is it?â he asked.
You handed him the phone.
He read slowly, jaw tightening with each line. When he finished, he didnât speak right away. He set the mugs down carefully, like sudden movement might crack something fragile.
âThey canât justââ you began.
âThey can,â he interrupted calmly. âThey always can.â
Your chest constricted. âThis buildingââ
âIs old,â he finished. âAnd valuable. And inconveniently located.â
The words landed with dull familiarity.
You sank into the chair by the counter, nausea curling low in your stomach. The apartment upstairs. The shop below. The life youâd built inside these wallsâquiet, deliberate, earned.
Threatened. Again.
âWhat happens now?â you asked.
Mr. Han exhaled slowly. âNow we donât panic.â
âThatâs not comforting.â
âItâs not meant to be,â he said. âItâs meant to keep us from making mistakes.â
He picked up one of the mugs and slid it toward you. âDrink.â
Your hands trembled faintly as you wrapped them around the warmth.
Namjoon found out two hours later.
He hadnât meant to overhear it. He was in a meetingâhalf-listening, half-arguing in his head with a client who didnât understand the difference between legal risk and personal inconvenienceâwhen one of the junior associates leaned over and murmured, âIsnât that the bookstore you go to?â
The name on the document froze his blood.
He excused himself without explanation and read the notice in full, pulse climbing with every paragraph.
By noon, he was in his office with the door shut, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled. The room felt too small.
This wasnât hypothetical.
This wasnât emotional ambiguity or misaligned timing.
This was something he understood.
And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.
He stared at his phone.
Typed.
Stopped.
Deleted.
Yunaâs voice echoed in his head. Donât barge in.
But every instinct he had screamed that this matteredâthat silence here would be negligence, not restraint.
He compromised.
Namjoon:
I heard about the notice. I donât want to overstep, but if you need someone to explain what it meansâor what your options areâIâm here.
He hit send and leaned back in his chair, jaw tight.
You read the message standing in the narrow stairwell between floors.
It made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
You showed it to Mr. Han without comment.
He read it, expression unreadable.
âHe means well,â you said quietly.
âI know,â Mr. Han replied. âThat doesnât make it simple.â
âHe understands this stuff.â
Mr. Han looked at you thenâreally looked. âAnd what would that make him?â
You swallowed. âUseful.â
He didnât smile. âCareful.â
âI am being careful.â
âYouâre being tempted.â
The distinction stung because it was true.
âI donât want to lose this,â you said, voice tight. âAny of it.â
Mr. Hanâs gaze softened. âNeither do I.â
Silence stretched.
Then he sighed. âInvite him to explain. Nothing more.â
Relief and dread tangled together in your chest.
You typed back before you could lose your nerve.
You:
Thank you. Could you come by after work? Just to explain.
The reply came almost instantly.
Namjoon:
Of course.
Namjoon arrived at six-thirty.
This time, he brought a folder.
You noticed that firstâhow deliberately professional it was. No coffee. No excuses. Just documents neatly organised, posture careful, expression neutral.
Mr. Han joined you at the table without invitation.
âSit,â he said to Namjoon.
Namjoon did.
For the next forty minutes, the world narrowed to paperwork and explanation. Namjoonâs voice was steady, precise, stripped of anything personal. He translated legal language into something human, outlining timelines, risks, leverage.
You watched him do what he did bestâtake chaos and give it shape.
It was comforting.
And dangerous.
âSo theyâre testing pressure,â Mr. Han said finally. âSeeing if weâll fold.â
âYes,â Namjoon replied. âOr if youâll make a mistake trying not to.â
Your fingers curled into your sleeve. âWhat would you do?â
Namjoon hesitatedâjust briefly.
âI would document everything,â he said carefully. âAnd I wouldnât face it alone.â
The words hung heavier than intended.
Mr. Han stood. âThank you. That will be all.â
Namjoon rose immediately. âIf anything changesââ
âI know how to reach you,â Mr. Han said evenly.
Namjoon nodded, accepting the dismissal without protest.
At the door, he paused.
âAre you okay?â he asked you quietly.
You didnât lie. âNo.â
His jaw tightened. âIâm here.â
You nodded. âI know.â
The bell chimed as he left.
That night, you didnât sleep.
You lay awake listening to the building settle, every creak sounding like a warning. The apartment felt differentâless solid, less permanent.
Your phone buzzed just after midnight.
Namjoon:
I know today was a lot. Please donât feel like you have to be strong about this.
Your chest tightened.
You:
Strength is the only way I know how to stay.
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Reappeared.
Namjoon:
Then let me be here while you are.
Something in you fractured quietly.
By Friday, the strain showed.
You snapped at a customer for bending the corner of a page. Apologised immediately. Mr. Han watched it all with narrowed eyes.
âYouâre spiralling,â he said that evening.
âIâm functioning.â
âYouâre clenching,â he corrected. âThatâs not the same thing.â
You rubbed at your temples. âI canât lose this.â
âYou wonât,â he said firmly. âBut you might lose yourself if you donât stop bracing for impact.â
The bell chimed.
Namjoon stepped inside.
He looked at you.
At Mr. Han.
At the tension wound tight between you.
âIâm sorry,â he said quietly. âI didnât mean to interrupt.â
âYou didnât,â you said, standing before you could think better of it. âI asked you to come.â
Mr. Hanâs gaze sharpened. âFor what?â
You swallowed. âFor support.â
The word landed like a dropped glass.
Namjoon frozeânot advancing, not retreating.
Mr. Han studied you for a long moment.
Then he nodded once. âIâll be upstairs.â
The air shifted the moment he left.
âYou didnât have to do that,â Namjoon said.
âYes,â you replied. âI did.â
You met his gaze, fear and resolve colliding in your chest.
âI canât do this alone,â you said. âAnd I donât want help that comes with disappearance.â
His breath caught.
âThen Iâm here,â he said quietly. âFully. Or not at all.â
You nodded, heart racing.
Outside, the city pressed inâunaware, relentless.
Inside the bookstore, something irrevocable had shifted.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
Summary: Y/N is someone who never planned to adopt a hybridâuntil she meets Jungkook, a withdrawn rabbit hybrid feared by everyone at the shelter. She brings him home thinking itâll be a quiet fresh start, but strange signs soon appear: a scar on his neck, panic around cars, and someone suddenly digging into his records.
When threats begin to surface, Y/N realises Jungkook wasnât simply abandonedâhe was taken, tracked, and never meant to stay free. With no power or connections, sheâs forced to fight in the only way she can: by refusing to give him back, and protecting him with everything she has.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut (I'll add on more when I write more!)
Not the comfortable kind of quiet, either â the kind that felt like the world was holding its breath.
You didnât force Jungkook out of his room. You didnât hover by his bed, didnât peer under blankets, didnât talk to him like he was fragile glass. You simply⊠existed in the apartment the way you always did. Soft footsteps. Gentle sounds. The familiar rhythm of a home that didnât demand performance.
But your mind would not let go of the image from the store.
The wolf hybrid.
The way his gaze had flicked to the carrier. The way Jungkook had gone so still you thought heâd stopped breathing.
It hadnât been the fear of a stranger.
It had been the fear of a type.
Or worse â the fear of someone he recognised.
You had barely managed to get your groceries and supplies put away when your phone buzzed.
A blocked number.
You frowned. You almost ignored it.
Almost.
Then your lawyer instincts whispered: Donât.
You answered. âHello?â
âMs L/N Y/N?â a female voice asked, brisk but not unkind.
âYes.â
âThis is Jung Haneul from Homes for Springs.â
Your spine straightened. âHi. Is everything alright?â
âWe have a standard post-adoption check-in,â she said. âItâs earlier than usual, so I wanted to call personally.â
Earlier.
That word dug under your skin.
âEarlier becauseâŠ?â you asked carefully.
There was a pause, as if she was measuring what she could say over the phone.
Then, âBecause Jungkookâs file was flagged.â
Your stomach dropped. âFlagged for what?â
âNot for you,â she corrected quickly. âFor him.â
You pressed a hand to the countertop. âOkay. What does that mean?â
âIt means someone in the system accessed his adoption record within the last twenty-four hours.â
Your blood chilled.
âWho?â
Haneul exhaled softly. âThatâs the problem. It wasnât one of ours.â
You stared at the wall like it might give you answers. âHow is that possible?â
âWeâre investigating,â she said. Then her voice lowered. âMs L/N, I need you to listen carefully. Jungkook was classified as âspecial handlingâ before he was transferred to us.â
Your grip tightened. âTransferred from where?â
Another pause.
Then, âA private facility.â
The words turned your mouth dry.
Private facility. Not shelter. Not rescue. Not rehabilitation.
The kind of place you fought against in court.
The kind of place with names buried under corporate layers and âdonationsâ and âresearch grants.â Places that called hybrids specimens and assets instead of beings.
Your pulse hammered.
âWhat kind of private facility?â you forced out.
Haneulâs voice went even quieter. âWe were told it was medical. But the paperwork was inconsistent. Thatâs why he ended up here instead of being adopted through the usual channels.â
Your throat tightened. âSo you didnât know what he went through.â
âNo,â she admitted. âAnd he wouldnât speak. Even with specialists. Even with calming support. He refused human form for weeks. He refused food from hands. He refused anyone near his ears.â
Your thoughts flashed back to yesterday â the way he had flinched at your lock clicking. The way heâd looked guilty after drinking water.
Your chest ached like something was squeezing it.
âWhat do you need from me?â you asked, voice steadier than you felt.
Haneul hesitated. âFirst, how is he? Has he eaten? Has he shown any aggression? Any biting? Excessive fear responses?â
âHeâs scared,â you said honestly. âBut heâs eating. Heâs⊠learning.â
A soft exhale on the other end. Relief.
âGood,â Haneul said. âSecond â and this is the important part â do not bring him outside unnecessarily for the next week.â
Your heart sank. âBecause someone mightâ?â
âYes,â she said bluntly. âIf his record was accessed, thereâs a possibility someone is looking for him.â
You closed your eyes.
The wolf hybrid at the store.
Your stomach churned.
Haneul continued, âIf you see anyone unusual, any strangers lingering, any vehicles following you, you contact the shelter and the Hybrid Association hotline immediately.â
You swallowed. âI work for the Association.â
Haneul paused. âThen you know how serious this is.â
You did.
Too well.
âSend me everything you can,â you said, voice hardening. âHis file, the transfer papers, everything you said was inconsistent.â
âI canât send full documents due to confidentiality,â Haneul said carefully. âBut I can send summaries and the flagged access report. Alsoââ
You held your breath.
âThereâs something else,â she said. âThe flagged access came with a search query.â
Your stomach turned. âWhat query?â
Haneulâs voice dropped. âIt was looking for ownership tags.â
Your blood went cold.
Ownership tags were illegal in your district.
But illegal didnât mean nonexistent. It meant hidden.
It meant someone had once marked him.
âMs L/N,â Haneul said, firm now. âIs Jungkook wearing anything from the shelter? Collar, tag, bandâ?â
âNo.â Your voice came out strained. âHeâs not wearing anything.â
âGood,â she said, relief sharp. âKeep it that way. If he has any microtag or subdermal marker, do not attempt removal yourself. Bring him to an approved clinic.â
âI understand.â
Haneul hesitated again. âAnd Ms L/N⊠please donât blame yourself. You did the right thing adopting him. You got him out.â
You swallowed hard. âIâll keep him safe.â
âI know,â she said softly. âThatâs why I called.â
The line clicked off.
You stood there in silence, phone still pressed to your ear, heartbeat loud in your skull.
Then you slowly lowered the phone.
And turned your head toward the hallway.
Jungkookâs door was cracked open.
A sliver.
Just enough to show one white ear peeking out.
He had heard.
Of course he had heard. Hybrids had better hearing than humans ever wanted to acknowledge.
You kept your voice gentle. âJungkook⊠Iâm not mad. Okay?â
The ear flicked.
You stepped closer, stopping a safe distance away. âYouâre not in trouble. No one is taking you back.â
Silence.
Then the door opened a fraction more.
Two big eyes stared at you from the darkness.
Your chest tightened painfully at the way they looked.
Not just scared.
Ashamed.
As if being wanted by the wrong people was somehow his fault.
You crouched down slowly.
âIâm going to ask you something,â you whispered. âAnd you donât have to answer with words. You can just⊠show me, okay?â
Jungkook didnât move.
âYesterday,â you continued, carefully, âat the store⊠you saw someone.â
His ears flattened.
Your heart clenched.
âThat person made you scared,â you said. âNot normal scared. The kind of scared that comes from memory.â
Jungkookâs body trembled â a tiny, barely visible shake.
You kept your tone steady, as calm as you sounded in court when you were trying to keep a victim from breaking.
âWere you taken from somewhere, Jungkook?â you asked softly. âSomewhere bad?â
For a long moment, he didnât move.
Then he did something that made your breath catch.
He lifted his paw⊠and tapped the floor once.
Yes.
Your stomach twisted.
You swallowed hard. âDid they hurt you?â
He froze.
Then his paw tapped again.
Yes.
Your vision blurred for a moment.
You blinked hard, forcing yourself not to cry in front of him â not because tears were bad, but because you didnât want him to think he had to comfort you.
âOkay,â you whispered, voice rough. âOkay⊠thank you for telling me.â
Jungkook stared at you like he was waiting for punishment.
You shook your head immediately. âNo,â you said firmly. âNo. Not you. Not ever.â
His eyes widened slightly.
You took a careful breath. âDo you have something on you? Something they used to track you? A tag? A marker?â
Jungkookâs ears twitched.
Then slowly, he shifted his body.
Turned.
And with clumsy bunny movement, he lowered his head and pushed his fur aside near the base of his neck.
You froze.
Because for a second you saw it â not clearly, but enough.
A faint line.
A small scar.
Old.
He looked back at you, eyes glossy.
Your throat went tight. âDid they put something under your skin?â
Jungkook didnât tap yes this time.
He just stared.
And that was answer enough.
You forced yourself to stay calm. âOkay. Weâre going to the clinic.â
His whole body stiffened.
âNo,â you said quickly. âNot like before. Not cages. Not straps. Itâs a safe clinic. Approved. They help hybrids. They wonât hurt you.â
Jungkookâs breath came faster.
You reached out slowly, palm up. âCome here. Please.â
He hesitated, then hopped forward â just a little â enough for his nose to touch your fingers.
You stroked gently between his eyes, then down the base of his ears.
He trembled but didnât retreat.
âYouâre so brave,â you whispered, and the words slipped out before you could stop them.
Jungkookâs ears twitched like he didnât understand how that could be true.
You swallowed. âIâm going to make a call, alright? You stay here. Iâll be right back.â
You stood slowly, keeping your movements gentle, and walked back to the kitchen.
Then you dialled a number you hadnât used in months.
A clinic contact.
A favour youâd earned the hard way.
The call picked up almost immediately.
âDr Minâs office.â
âThis is L/N Y/N,â you said, voice crisp. âHybrid Association. I need an urgent scan for possible subdermal marker removal. Prey hybrid. Rabbit.â
A beat.
Then the nurseâs voice changed. âUnderstood. Are they in immediate danger?â
âYes,â you said simply.
âCome in within the hour,â she said. âUse the back entrance. Less attention.â
âThank you.â
You ended the call, hands shaking slightly.
When you turned back toward the hallway, Jungkook was no longer in his doorway.
Your heart stopped.
âJungkook?â you called softly, instantly scanning the apartment.
No response.
A cold dread crawled up your spine.
You moved down the hall quickly, checking your bedroom, the bathroomâ
Nothing.
Then you noticed the front door.
The lock was still engaged.
He couldnât have left.
You exhaled shakily.
Then you spotted movement in the living room.
Jungkook was under the coffee table again â but not curled in his towel nest.
He had dragged his shelter blanket and made a tight burrow.
A bunker.
Like he was preparing for a siege.
Your chest ached.
You crouched near the table, keeping space. âHey⊠Iâm here.â
His eyes glimmered from the shadows.
You softened your voice. âWe have to go, Jungkook. Not for long. Just to check if thereâs something under your skin.â
He didnât move.
You swallowed. âI wonât let anyone touch you without your permission.â
His nose twitched.
âAnd if you donât want to be in human form, you donât have to,â you added. âYou can stay rabbit. Weâll keep the blanket. You can hide.â
A pause.
Then, slowly, Jungkook nudged the blanket opening wider.
A tiny invitation.
Your throat tightened again.
You reached in gently, letting him sniff your hand first.
He pressed his head into your palm.
Permission.
So you lifted him carefully, wrapping him in his blanket like a cocoon.
He stayed tense â but he didnât fight.
You carried him to the door, grabbed your bag, checked the peephole twice, then opened the door.
The corridor was empty.
Still, you moved fast, heart pounding, protective instincts roaring in your blood.
In the lift, Jungkook stayed pressed against you.
You whispered against his ear, voice steady. âYouâre okay. Iâm here.â
His tiny paws gripped your sleeve.
Hard.
By the time you reached the car park, your nerves were raw.
But you didnât see anyone waiting.
No suspicious vehicles.
No wolf hybrid.
Still, you placed Jungkook in the passenger seat, nestled between your legs again, blanket tucked securely.
He peeked out just enough to watch.
You started the car.
And as you pulled out of the lot, your phone buzzed again.
This time it wasnât blocked.
It was your supervisor.
You ignored it.
Your phone buzzed again.
And again.
Then a message flashed across your screen:
Association Emergency Briefing. Attendance required. Hybrid trafficking sweep. We have an ID match.
Your blood ran cold.
ID match.
You tightened your grip on the steering wheel.
Jungkook made a small sound, like he sensed your shift.
You swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper.
âJungkook⊠I think the case Iâve been working onâŠâ
You glanced at him.
His big eyes stared back at you, unblinking.
ââŠmight be about you.â
And in that moment, you realised something with awful clarity:
You hadnât just adopted a hybrid.
You had adopted evidence.
A target.
And maybeâ
A key to bringing down the kind of facility that had ruined him.
But only if you could keep him alive long enough to testify.
Only if you could keep him safe from the people who still believed he belonged to them.
The city lights blurred past as you drove.
And in the passenger seat, Jungkook curled tighter into his blanket.
Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut
Taglist: @lovejkmilitarywife @forevermoon1306
WC: 1630
< Prev. Series mstr. Next >
The apartment above the bookstore breathed with you.
It always had.
The floorboards remembered your steps even when you didnât walk them. The walls held warmth long after the kettle downstairs had cooled. Even now, wrapped in layers of blankets, your body aching in ways that felt too intimate and too exposed, the space seemed to adjust itself around youâshadows drawn softer, light filtered thinner through the curtains Mr. Han had half-closed hours ago.
Your room smelled faintly of dried lavender and old paper. Of safety.
You shifted, a small sound slipping from your throat before you could stop it. Heat pooled uncomfortably beneath your skin, every sensation sharpened to an edge. The blankets felt too heavy and not heavy enough all at once. You kicked one aside, then pulled it back moments later when the air felt too cold.
You hated this limbo.
Not sick enough to be unconscious. Not well enough to pretend.
A chair scraped softly against the floor.
You hadnât heard him come in.
Mr. Han sat beside your bed, glasses pushed up into his hair, sleeves rolled. He didnât speak at first. He never rushed you when you were like this. Instead, he rested one hand on the mattress near your hipâgrounding, familiar.
âYouâre burning up,â he said quietly, pressing the back of his fingers to your wrist. His touch was cool. Steady. âDid you take the medicine?â
You nodded, eyes closed. âEarlier.â
He hummed, neither satisfied nor disappointed. He reached for the damp cloth resting on the tray and gently wiped your temple, the motion practiced from years of doing this without asking permission.
You leaned into it instinctively.
âIâm sorry,â you murmured.
The cloth stilled.
âFor what?â he asked.
âFor missing work. For worrying you. Forââ Your voice caught, frustration rising hot and fast. âFor being like this.â
Mr. Han sighed, long and slow, the sound heavy with patience. âYouâve been âlike thisâ since the day I met you,â he said gently. âAnd youâve apologised for it every time.â
You swallowed. âI donât mean to be difficult.â
âYou arenât,â he said firmly. âYouâre human. Complicated. Exhausted. And stubborn as hell.â
A weak huff of laughter escaped you before dissolving into a cough. He waited it out, hand steady at your back, thumb pressing lightly in slow circles until your breathing evened again.
âYou remember when you were twelve?â he said suddenly.
You frowned, eyes still closed. âWhich time?â
âThe winter you refused to rest because you didnât want to âburdenâ me,â he said, fondness threading through his voice. âYou collapsed between the poetry shelves.â
Your lips twitched. âYou carried me upstairs.â
âYou were all elbows and attitude,â he replied. âKept apologising even while half-conscious.â
You felt your throat tighten. âYou didnât have to.â
âI wanted to,â he said simply. âI still do.â
Silence settled between you, thick but gentle.
Downstairs, the bookstore clock chimed the hour. The sound travelled up through the walls, familiar enough to make your chest ache.
Mr. Han reached for the mug on the tray and brought it to your lips. âDrink.â
You did, small sips at a time. The tea was warm, gingered just right, sweetened with honey the way you liked it. He always remembered.
âSomeone came by,â he said quietly, not looking at you.
Your fingers twitched against the blanket. âI know.â
He glanced at you then. âYou heard?â
âNo,â you admitted. âBut I felt it.â
That earned a pause.
âYou always do,â he said.
You opened your eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling. âWas he⊠upset?â
Mr. Han considered the question carefully. âHe was worried,â he said at last. âMore than he realised.â
You turned your head slightly, the movement making the room tilt. âDid you scare him off?â
A corner of his mouth lifted. âI asked him what he wanted with my daughter.â
Your chest tightened painfully. âYou didnât have toââ
âYes,â he interrupted gently. âI did.â
You closed your eyes again. âWhat did he say?â
âThat he wanted to respect you,â Mr. Han replied. âEven if that meant waiting.â
Something fragile cracked open inside your chest.
âAnd you?â you asked softly. âDo you believe him?â
Mr. Han reached out, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. His touch was slow, deliberate, weighted with years of choosing you every day.
âI believe people tell the truth in moments they donât benefit from,â he said. âHe gained nothing by standing there and answering me.â
You breathed out shakily.
âYou donât owe him anything,â he continued. âNot explanations. Not access. Not pieces of yourself youâre still holding together.â
âI know,â you whispered.
âBut,â he added gently, âyou donât owe yourself isolation either.â
The words settled deep.
You turned onto your side, facing him, eyes heavy but intent. âWhat if knowing me⊠changes how he sees the world?â
Mr. Han didnât answer immediately. He squeezed your hand instead.
âThen thatâs his work to do,â he said. âNot yours.â
Your vision blurred. âWhat if he leaves?â
He met your gaze steadily. âThen you will survive,â he said. âYou always do. But you wonât break just because someone else couldnât stay.â
Tears slipped free before you could stop them, hot and silent. Mr. Han leaned forward and pulled you gently into his chest, careful of your overheated skin. His arms wrapped around you, solid and sure.
You breathed him inâold paper, soap, home.
âIâm tired,â you murmured into his sweater.
âI know,â he replied, kissing the crown of your head. âRest.â
When he finally eased you back against the pillows, the room felt warmerânot suffocating, but held.
As he stood to leave, you reached out weakly. âMr. Han?â
He turned back immediately. âYes, love?â
âThank you,â you said. âFor choosing me.â
He smiled, eyes soft behind his glasses. âI never had a choice.â
After he left, you lay there listening to the quiet hum of the building, the steady rhythm of the city beyond the walls. Your phone sat untouched on the bedside table, screen dark.
For now, you let yourself rest in the space between knowing and saying, held together by the quiet certainty that whatever came next, you would not face it alone.
Sleep was the kind that pulled you under and kept you there, but the kind that drifted in and out, carrying fragments of sound and memory with it. The radiator clicked softly. Somewhere below, Mr. Han moved through the shop, the muted scrape of a chair, the thud of a book being set down too firmly. Familiar noises. Anchors.
Your body burned and cooled in turns, caught between opposing sensations that never quite balanced out. You shifted again, sheets tangling around your legs, frustration pooling low in your chest.
Too aware.
Too awake.
You cracked your eyes open to the dim room. The light outside had changedâafternoon bleeding slowly into evening, the grey softened by the first hint of dusk. Shadows stretched longer across the walls, bending around the furniture like they belonged there.
A soft knock.
Not downstairs.
Here.
âY/N?â Mr. Hanâs voice came through the door, lower now. Careful. âMay I?â
âYou donât have to ask,â you murmured.
The door opened quietly. He stepped in carrying a fresh blanket and a small bowl balanced in one hand. Steam curled faintly from it.
âSoup,â he said. âJust a few spoonfuls. Donât argue.â
You huffed weakly. âI wasnât going to.â
He raised an eyebrow. He helped you sit up, moving with the ease of someone who had done this countless times. The pillows were adjusted just right. The blanket tucked carefully around your shoulders. He lifted the spoon and waited.
You took a sip.
It was warm. Salty. Comforting in a way that had nothing to do with taste. He set the bowl aside and reached for your wrist again, fingers warm this time. He frowned slightlyânot alarmed, but attentive.
âYouâre riding it out,â he said. âThatâs good.â
You stared at the blanket, fingers picking at a loose thread. âI hate that you always know.â
âI raised you,â he said gently. âOf course I know.â
The word settled into youâraisedâheavy and grounding all at once.
âDid you ever regret it?â you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could catch it.
Mr. Han stilled. âRegret what?â
âTaking me in,â you whispered. âEverything that came after.â
He didnât answer right away. Instead, he set the bowl down and pulled a chair closer, sitting so his knees brushed the edge of the bed. He took your hand fully this time, his grip firm and warm.
âListen to me,â he said quietly. âI didnât save you. I didnât rescue you. I chose you. Every day. And I would make that choice again without hesitation.â
Your throat tightened painfully.
âYou didnât make my life harder,â he continued. âYou made it fuller.â
Tears burned behind your eyes. You turned your face away, embarrassed by the sudden intensity of it all.
He didnât let go. âYou donât have to be strong in this house,â he added softly. âYou never did.â
The words sank deep, loosening something youâd been holding taut for far too long.
Your breathing stuttered once, twiceâthen evened out as exhaustion finally crept back in, heavier now, more insistent. Mr. Han squeezed your hand gently.
âSleep,â he said. âIâll be downstairs.â
âYou always are,â you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.
He smiled faintly. âExactly.â
As he stood to leave, your phone buzzed softly on the bedside table.
Once.
You didnât open your eyes.
The sound faded into the quiet, leaving only the steady hum of the building and the faint murmur of Mr. Han moving below. Somewhere between waking and sleep, the image of Namjoon surfaced unbiddenânot sharp, not painful, just⊠present.
You didnât reach for the phone. But you didnât turn it face-down either.
Summary: Y/N is someone who never planned to adopt a hybridâuntil she meets Jungkook, a withdrawn rabbit hybrid feared by everyone at the shelter. She brings him home thinking itâll be a quiet fresh start, but strange signs soon appear: a scar on his neck, panic around cars, and someone suddenly digging into his records.
When threats begin to surface, Y/N realises Jungkook wasnât simply abandonedâhe was taken, tracked, and never meant to stay free. With no power or connections, sheâs forced to fight in the only way she can: by refusing to give him back, and protecting him with everything she has.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut (I'll add on more when I write more!)
You woke up to the sound of tiny claws skittering across hardwood.
Your eyes snapped open instantly â the kind of reflex you built from years of reading alarming case files and expecting the worst.
Then you saw it.
A white blur darting across your bedroom floor, blanket trailing behind it like a dramatic train.
You stared.
Jungkook stopped mid-run, turned to face you, and thumped his back foot on the floor as if you were the one being disruptive.
You blinked again. âGood morning to you too.â
He huffed â a tiny, offended sound â and hopped over to your bedside table.
Then he stared at your phone.
Then he stared at you.
Then he nudged the phone with his nose.
Your brows furrowed. âWhatâ you want me to⊠check my phone?â
Jungkook nudged it again, harder.
You stared, then slowly picked it up.
No notifications. No alarms. No messages from Luna.
You looked back down. âWhat do you want?â
Jungkook stared for a long moment.
Then he hopped off the table and went straight to your door, pushing it open wider with his head.
He paused in the doorway and looked back at you with a very clear expression that translated to:
Move.
You stared, half amused, half bewildered. âAre you⊠telling me to get up?â
Jungkook thumped his foot again.
You laughed, rubbing your eyes. âBossy rabbit.â
But you got up anyway.
When you stepped into the hallway, you found your living room had been⊠rearranged.
Not massively.
But enough that you stood there, processing it like you had walked into a crime scene.
Your carefully placed towel nest had been dragged closer to the balcony window. The water bowl had been nudged two inches to the left. The apple slice you left overnight had vanished.
And on your couchâ
Jungkookâs shelter blanket had been spread out neatly, like heâd claimed it.
You stared. âSo you live on the couch now.â
Jungkook hopped onto the couch cushion with effort, then flopped dramatically onto the blanket like a royal being presented to his throne.
You sighed, smiling despite yourself. âAlright, Your Highness.â
That earned you another huff.
You padded into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water for yourself, then carefully prepped breakfast for him â small portions again, safe and simple. Greens, a little fruit, and you made a mental note to research proper nutrition for rabbit hybrids.
You placed the dish near the couch.
Jungkook sniffed it, then grabbed a piece and ate it while staring at you like you were being evaluated.
You raised your hands. âOkay, okay. Iâll do better next time.â
He chewed slowly.
Then, when you turned toward the hallway, he followed you â hopping at your heels like a shadow.
That was when it hit you.
He wasnât just exploring.
He was⊠tracking you.
Not in a threatening way.
In a âwhere you go, I goâ way.
Your throat tightened unexpectedly.
Hybrids often formed attachments quickly when they finally had stability â but this was day one. Barely.
You crouched down gently. âHey, Jungkook⊠you donât have to follow me everywhere.â
He stared.
Then he hopped forward and pressed his head into your shin.
A soft, deliberate push.
Your breath caught.
âOkay,â you whispered. âOkay. If thatâs what you need.â
You took your phone back out and sent an email to your supervisor.
Taking leave for personal reasons. Three days.
You hesitated, then added:
Will be contactable for emergencies only.
Then you sent it before you could change your mind.
When you looked down again, Jungkook was sitting by your feet like a loyal guard, ears upright, eyes half-lidded.
He looked⊠calmer today.
Still cautious.
But calmer.
âAlright,â you murmured. âToday we do things properly.â
You started with the spare bedroom.
You opened the door and stepped aside, offering him first entry.
Jungkook peered in from behind your leg, then hopped forward a few steps, nose twitching.
He sniffed the boxes. The treadmill. The corner shelves.
His ears flattened as he reached the closet â as if the dark space bothered him.
He backed away instantly, body tense.
You immediately stepped between him and the closet. âOkay. Not that. We donât go there yet.â
He watched you warily.
You softened your voice. âThis room is yours. But it doesnât have to be this room yet. We can change it. We can make it safe.â
Jungkook stared at you for a long time.
Then he hopped into the middle of the room and thumped his foot once.
Not angry this time.
Almost like a⊠decision.
You blinked. âYouâre claiming it?â
He huffed, then hopped onto the bed with a clumsy little jump that barely succeeded. He ended up half on, half off, kicking his feet until he flopped onto the mattress.
You stared, then laughed quietly. âOkay. Bed rabbit.â
You spent the next hour clearing the room carefully, moving slowly so you wouldnât overwhelm him. You stacked boxes into a corner, folded the treadmill away completely, and opened the curtains to let in soft light. You placed his blankets on the bed, then added one of your softest throws.
Jungkook watched every movement.
Every time you lifted something, his ears flicked.
Every time something scraped the floor, his body tensed.
You kept talking to him â not because you thought he needed conversation, but because you wanted him to know your voice meant normal.
âThis box is just old books.â
âThatâs the treadmill. Itâs boring, I promise.â
âThese are spare bedsheets. You can choose later.â
When you finally finished, the room looked less like storage and more like a space someone could breathe in.
You crouched by the bed. âWhat do you think?â
Jungkook hopped onto the blanket pile and turned in a circle. Then he shoved his face into the blankets and dug like he was making a burrow.
You smiled. âThatâs a yes.â
You werenât sure if taking him out on day two was too much â but you also knew you needed supplies, and waiting too long might make the first trip even harder.
So you compromised.
You chose a quiet pet-and-hybrid supply store that opened early, before crowds. You took your time preparing: a carrier lined with his blanket, a second blanket to cover the top so he could hide, and a small pouch of food just in case he needed comfort.
When you brought the carrier out, Jungkook immediately went rigid.
He stared at it like it was an enemy.
You knelt down. âHey. This isnât a cage. This is⊠a safe box. Just for the trip.â
Jungkook didnât move.
So you didnât force him.
You sat on the floor, placed the carrier beside you, and waited.
After a long minute, Jungkook crept forward and sniffed it.
Then he sniffed you.
Then he nudged the carrier again, like he was measuring its honesty.
You held your breath.
Slowly, he hopped inside on his own â but not before turning around to glare at you like he was doing you a huge favour.
You exhaled shakily, relief hitting you so hard it almost made you dizzy.
âThank you,â you whispered.
Jungkook huffed.
The drive was easier than the day before.
He still trembled when the engine started, but when you placed your hand on the carrier through the blanket, he pressed closer to the warmth, breathing faster but not panicking.
When you arrived, you carried the box carefully, keeping your body between him and strangers.
The store was quiet, bright, clean.
Still â new smells made him restless. You could feel the carrier shift as he moved inside.
You kept your voice soft. âWeâre just getting things for your room. Then we go home.â
Jungkook made a faint sound â not quite agreeing, but listening.
You started with essentials: bedding materials, chew-safe toys, a softer water dish that wouldnât tip easily, a small hideaway tunnel. You paused often, checking on him.
At one point, you felt the carrier shake harder.
You stopped immediately, stepping into a quieter aisle.
âToo much?â you whispered.
No response â but the shaking slowed when you lowered your voice and covered the carrier fully with the blanket.
You swallowed. âOkay. Weâll go home soon.â
You turned toward the checkoutâ
And froze.
A man stood near the front entrance, talking to an employee. Tall. Broad. Black coat. Gloved hands.
He looked like someone who didnât belong in a peaceful little supply store.
Your instincts flared â lawyer instincts, the kind that recognised trouble before it arrived.
The man turned his head slightly.
And your breath caught because his eyes werenât normal.
Not fully.
Not human.
A hybrid.
A wolf hybrid, judging by the faint outline of ears under his hood and the way he held himself like he could break a room in half if he wanted.
His gaze flicked to your carrier.
Then to you.
Then away, like he didnât care.
But you knew better.
Because Jungkookâs carrier suddenly went still.
Utterly.
Like every molecule in him had gone silent.
Your grip tightened.
You didnât look away from the stranger until you were safely outside and walking toward your car.
Only then did Jungkook move again â frantic, shifting inside the carrier like he was trying to burrow through the fabric.
You opened the door quickly and set him on the passenger seat, covering him fully.
âItâs okay,â you murmured urgently. âItâs okay, weâre leaving.â
Jungkookâs breathing was fast.
Too fast.
You started the car and drove.
Only when you were several blocks away did the shaking ease.
Your hands trembled on the steering wheel.
That wolf hybridâŠ
Why had Jungkook reacted like that?
Hybrids were sensitive to scent, to presence, to threat.
But that reaction hadnât been just fear.
It had been⊠recognition.
The moment you stepped into your apartment, Jungkook practically launched out of the carrier and sprinted to his room, blanket trailing behind him like a lifeline.
You followed slowly, heart aching.
He hopped onto the bed and dug into the blankets until only his ears were visible.
You sat on the floor by the doorway, keeping distance.
âI wonât come in,â you whispered. âIâm just here.â
Silence.
Then, slowly, Jungkookâs head emerged.
His eyes looked glossy â not quite tears, but something close.
You swallowed hard.
âI donât know what happened to you before,â you said softly, voice rougher than you intended. âI donât know why cars scare you. I donât know why strangers make you freeze. I donât know why you look like youâre waiting to be punished for breathing.â
Your throat tightened.
âBut youâre not in that place anymore.â
Jungkook stared at you.
âAnd if anyone ever tries to take you back,â you continued, voice steady now, âtheyâll have to go through me first.â
You didnât expect him to understand the words.
But you watched his ears slowly relax.
Watched his shoulders lower.
Watched him inch forward, just a little.
Then he hopped down from the bed.
Crossed the room.
And pressed his head gently against your knee.
A quiet, trembling little thank you.
Your eyes stung.
You lifted a hand slowly. âMay I?â
Jungkook nudged your knee again.
Yes.
So you stroked between his ears, gentle and steady.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut
Taglist: @lovejkmilitarywife @forevermoon1306
WC: 3133
< Prev. Series mstr. Next >
Namjoon did not go to the bookstore on Thursday.
The decision happened quietly, which somehow made it worse.
Work came first.
That was reasonable.
That was safe.
The office was already awake when he arrivedâlights humming, printers coughing out documents, the low murmur of voices carrying down the corridor. He slipped into his role easily, like muscle memory taking over. Emails answered. Calls returned. Arguments drafted with precision and restraint.
It should have been enough.
By mid-morning, his head ached with the effort of focus. He caught himself staring at a paragraph on his screen without reading it, eyes tracking the same sentence again and again like it might change if he waited long enough.
He pushed back from his desk and stood, pacing the length of his office. The carpet muffled his steps. The glass walls reflected him faintlyâtie straight, sleeves rolled just so, expression composed.
A man who had everything under control.
He sat again. Picked up his pen. Set it down.
At lunch, he realised he hadnât eaten. The thought of food felt abstract, distant. He drank water instead and returned to work.
By the time evening settled in, the city outside his window had shifted into shadow and lightâbuildings outlined in gold, streets pulsing faintly below. He stayed long past when he needed to, hands moving through tasks that no longer required his attention.
At eight, the office emptied.
At nine, the cleaning staff arrived.
At ten, he packed his bag with the same careful precision he used every night, even though there was no one left to see it.
Routine, he reminded himself.
This was what stability looked like.
The walk home was colder than he expected. The wind cut sharply between buildings, carrying the distant scent of rain that hadnât fallen yet. His coat felt too thin. Or maybe heâd just forgotten how much the cold could seep in when he wasnât paying attention.
Didnât look down the street that branched off to the right.
At home, the door closed behind him with a soft, final click.
The silence hit immediately.
His apartment was neat in a way that bordered on sterile. No clutter. No abandoned mugs. No signs of anyone else having ever existed here for more than a few hours at a time. He set his keys down in their designated place, slipped off his shoes, loosened his tie.
The quiet stretched.
He turned on a lamp. Then another. The light filled the space but didnât warm it.
He sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together. His body felt heavy, like gravity had increased without warning.
He tried to tell himself this was for the best.
Distance was necessary. Distance prevented misunderstandings. Distance kept old wounds from reopening in ways he couldnât control.
He had learned that lesson young.
The memory came without permission.
Rain on asphalt.
Sirens too loud.
Yunaâs face pale against white hospital sheets, eyes wide and unfocused.
Her voiceâsmall, frightened, calling his name.
He squeezed his eyes shut, breath sharp in his chest.
He had been a child too. That fact still felt irrelevant. Someone had needed to be steady, and he had stepped into that role without being asked.
Anger had come later. Quiet, enduring, wrapped in logic and justification.
He stood abruptly and crossed the room, pacing now, steps uneven. His reflection in the darkened window looked unfamiliarâjaw tight, shoulders drawn inward like he was bracing against something invisible.
He thought of the bookstore.
The way it smelled like paper and warmth. The way time slowed there without asking permission. The way Y/N listenedâreally listenedâwithout trying to shape his words into something more manageable.
That was the problem.
She made space.
And space invited collapse.
He skipped the bookstore the following Thursday too.
This time, the decision carried weight.
He noticed it everywhereâin the way his eyes kept drifting to the clock, in the way his chest tightened around noon, in the way he found himself restless by late afternoon with no clear reason why.
At six, he caught himself calculating how long it would take to walk there.
At six-thirty, he shut his laptop too hard and immediately opened it again, as if he might have forgotten something important.
At seven, he left the office and went to the gym instead.
He pushed himself harder than usual, muscles burning, lungs screaming for air. Sweat soaked through his shirt, dripped down his spine, stung his eyes. The physical strain grounded him in a way nothing else had all week.
For an hour, he didnât think.
Then it ended.
Back home, showered and exhausted, he stood in the steam-filled bathroom longer than necessary, forehead resting briefly against the tile. His hands shook faintly when he turned off the water.
That night, sleep came in fragments.
He dreamed of standing outside a glass door he couldnât open, his reflection staring back at him instead of what lay inside.
He woke with his heart racing and the unsettling sense that he had missed something important.
By the third skipped Thursday, the tension was no longer subtle.
It followed him like a shadowâthrough meetings, through meals he forgot to finish, through conversations that required more effort than they should have. He snapped once at a colleague for a minor mistake and immediately apologised, the words leaving his mouth too quickly, too rehearsed.
âYou alright?â they asked, concern flickering briefly across their face.
âYes,â he said. âJust tired.â
The lie tasted stale.
That evening, he stood at his desk staring at his phone, thumb hovering over a message he hadnât written yet. He imagined explanations that felt inadequate before they were even formed.
Sorry I disappeared.I needed time.I didnât know how to talk without saying the wrong thing.
He deleted the blank message and set the phone down.
Avoidance, he told himself, was restraint.
But restraint had never felt like this.
On the fourth Thursday, the sky hung low and heavy, threatening rain. He left the office earlier than usual, not because he planned to go anywhere, but because the walls felt too close.
The bookstoreâs windows glowed softly in the dusk, light spilling out onto the wet pavement. Shelves stood in familiar rows. Shapes moved insideâblurred by glass and distance, but alive.
He didnât know if she was there.
He didnât need to.
The sight alone sent something sharp and aching through his chest.
He stood there longer than was reasonable, hands buried in his pockets, breath fogging faintly in the cold air. The city rushed around himâcars passing, voices rising and fadingâbut he felt strangely removed from it all.
He had wanted safety.
He had chosen distance.
And now, standing there with everything inside him pulled tight, he understood the cost of that choice.
He wasnât steady.
He was breakingâslowly, quietly, under the weight of things he refused to face.
Namjoon turned away at last, footsteps heavy as he walked back into the cityâs noise.
Behind him, the bookstore remained exactly where it had always been.
Waiting.
Yuna showed up on a Saturday morning.
Not announced. Not scheduled. Just the sound of his doorbell cutting through the quiet like it had every right to be there.
Namjoon had been awake for hours already, though the apartment still felt half-asleep. The curtains were only partially drawn, light bleeding in unevenly, catching dust in the air. He sat at the small kitchen table with a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold, suit jacket discarded over the back of a chair like an afterthought.
He stared at the door when the bell rang again.
Didnât move.
The third ring was followed by a knockâsharp, impatient, unmistakably Yuna.
âNamjoon,â her voice carried through the wood, muffled but firm. âI know youâre in there.â
He closed his eyes.
âOpen the door,â she added. âOr Iâm calling the building manager and embarrassing you in front of your neighbours.â
That did it.
He stood slowly, joints stiff like heâd aged a decade overnight, and crossed the apartment. When he opened the door, Yuna stepped inside without waiting for permission, rain-damp coat swinging around her legs.
She took one look at him and stopped short.
âOh,â she said.
Not accusing. Not gentle either.
Just⊠seeing.
âYou look like hell,â she added, toeing the door shut behind her.
âGood morning to you too,â Namjoon muttered.
Yuna dropped her bag on the counter and turned fully toward him, arms crossing. She looked healthier than she had any right toâcheeks flushed from the cold, hair tied back neatly, posture strong. The scar at her collarbone was hidden beneath fabric, but he could feel its presence anyway. He always could.
âWhen was the last time you slept?â she asked.
âI sleep,â he replied automatically.
âThat wasnât the question.â
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. âI donât know.â
She nodded once, like that was confirmation of something sheâd already suspected. âWhen was the last time you ate a full meal?â
âI had coffee.â
Her jaw tightened. âYouâre unbelievable.â
She walked past him, further into the apartment, eyes scanning the space with the kind of familiarity that came from growing up together. She opened the fridge without asking.
Empty. Or close enough.
She shut it harder than necessary.
âYouâre doing it again,â she said.
He leaned against the wall, arms folding loosely. âDoing what?â
âDisappearing into yourself like thatâs a solution.â She turned, eyes sharp. âYou think I donât notice when you start spiraling?â
âIâm fine,â he insisted, even as the words felt brittle.
Yuna scoffed. âYouâre skipping meals, skipping sleep, andââ She paused, then softened just a fraction. âYouâre skipping the one place youâve been talking about for months.â
His breath caught.
âThat bookstore,â she continued. âThe one you light up about and then immediately pretend doesnât matter.â
He looked away.
âDonât,â she warned quietly. âDonât shut down on me.â
Silence stretched between them, thick and familiar.
âYou donât get to martyr yourself for me,â Yuna said finally. âI didnât almost die so you could punish yourself for the rest of your life.â
He flinched.
âThatâs not what Iâm doing,â he said, voice low.
âThen what is it?â she pressed.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him all at once. âI donât know how to hold two truths at the same time,â he admitted. âThat something hurt you. And that⊠not everything connected to it is dangerous.â
Yuna studied him carefully, expression unreadable.
âYouâre scared,â she said.
He didnât deny it.
She stepped closer and, without warning, smacked him upside the arm.
Not hard. Just enough.
âGet a grip,â she snapped. âYou were a kid. So was I. What happened was an accident, not a curse you need to keep paying for.â
He stared at her, stunned.
âYou think I donât see what youâre doing?â she continued, voice rising now. âYouâre avoiding something good because youâre afraid itâll make you question the walls you built. And instead of talking to anyone about it, youâre just⊠rotting.â
âThatâs dramatic,â he muttered.
She smacked his arm again. âIâm dramatic. Youâre self-destructive.â
He let out a shaky laugh before he could stop himself. It broke something open in his chest.
âI donât want to hurt anyone,â he said quietly.
Yunaâs expression softened fully this time. âThen stop hurting yourself.â
She reached out, grabbed his face between her hands, and forced him to look at her.
âYou donât owe me your loneliness,â she said. âYou donât owe me your anger. And you definitely donât owe me your happiness.â
His eyes burned.
âYou deserve good things,â she added firmly. âEven if they scare you.â
Yuna finally dropped her hands and sighed. âNow. Youâre going to eat something. Youâre going to take a shower. And thenââ she raised an eyebrow ââyouâre going to stop pretending avoidance is a virtue.â
He huffed. âYou always were bossy.â
âAnd you always needed it.â
She grabbed her bag and headed toward the kitchen. âIâm making eggs. Sit.â
Sunday carried a different weight.
It wasnât the kind of day that rushed anyone forward. The city moved as if wrapped in cottonâcars slower, footsteps softer, voices muted by the low ceiling of clouds pressing down from above. The air smelled damp, not quite rain, not quite dry either. A quiet anticipation lingered in it, like the world was holding its breath.
Namjoon walked beside Yuna with his hands buried deep in his coat pockets, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold. The pavement beneath his shoes was uneven here, cracked in places, patched over in others. He noticed everything too sharplyâthe rust on the lampposts, the flicker of a faulty traffic light, the way his breath fogged faintly with each exhale.
The bookstore appeared at the end of the street, just as it always had.
It didnât announce itself loudly. It never did. It simply existedâtucked between taller buildings that cast long shadows over its modest frontage. The wooden sign above the door swayed gently, its paint faded but lovingly retouched in places. The windows were fogged from within, shelves of books visible like quiet sentinels lining the walls.
Namjoon slowed without meaning to.
His chest tightened in a way that surprised him.
This place had begun to feel like a point of referenceâsomething steady he hadnât realised he was leaning on until he stepped too close to it.
Yuna noticed immediately.
âYou donât have to,â she said softly, her voice barely louder than the wind brushing past them.
âI want to,â he replied, though the words felt heavier than they should have.
They stepped inside.
The bell above the door chimed, its clear sound cutting through the hush like a ripple on still water. Warmth wrapped around them instantly, a sharp contrast to the chill outside. The smell hit him nextâaged paper, polished wood, something faintly herbal and grounding. It was the kind of scent that sank into your clothes and lingered long after you left.
But something was wrong.
The counter stood empty.
No quiet hum of movement between the shelves. No soft sounds of a ladder shifting, a book sliding into place. The space felt⊠paused. As if the room itself had noticed an absence.
Namjoonâs gaze flicked instinctively toward the corner where she usually stood.
Nothing.
Footsteps sounded from the back room.
An older man emerged, wiping his hands on a cloth. He was taller than Namjoon expected, shoulders broad despite the years evident in the silver threading through his hair. His glasses sat low on his nose, eyes sharp and observant in a way that suggested very little escaped him.
The moment his gaze landed on Namjoon, he stopped.
Not startled.
Assessing.
âYes?â the man said. His tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath itâlike a door only half-open.
Namjoon swallowed. âGood morning. Iââ He paused, suddenly aware of how fragile this moment was. âI was hoping to see Y/N.â
The shift was immediate.
The man straightened fully, spine stiffening, shoulders squaring. His eyes narrowed just enough to signal a boundary being drawn.
âSheâs not here,â he said.
âOh.â Namjoon nodded, heart sinking. âI didnât mean to intrude. She hasnât answered my messages and I just wanted to make sure she was okay.â
Silence stretched.
The kind that made Namjoon acutely aware of the ticking clock somewhere deeper in the shop, of Yunaâs quiet breathing beside him, of his own pulse beating too loudly in his ears.
The man stepped closer to the counter, resting both hands against the worn wood. âAnd who are you,â he asked evenly, âto be looking for her?â
The question wasnât hostile.
It was worse.
Protective.
Namjoon took a breath. âKim Namjoon.â
The man repeated the name slowly, tasting it. âAnd what do you want with my daughter?â
The word struck like a sudden weight.
Daughter.
Not guardian.
Not caretaker.
Daughter.
Yuna stiffened beside him, her posture shifting subtlyâready.
âIââ Namjoon began, then stopped. This wasnât a moment for rehearsed answers or careful deflection. âI care about her.â
The manâs eyes sharpened. âThatâs not an answer.â
Namjoon met his gaze, throat tight. âIâm not here to take anything from her. I came because I was worried.â
The shopkeeper studied him carefully nowâhis hands, the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw set when he spoke. Then his gaze flicked to Yuna.
âAnd you?â he asked.
âHis sister,â Yuna replied calmly. âWeâre not here to push. Just to check in.â
The manâs expression softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. âSheâs sick.â
The word carried more weight than it should have.
âShe called me yesterday,â he continued. âCould barely speak. Apologised like being unwell was something to be ashamed of.â His jaw tightened. âI told her to rest. The shop can wait.â
Namjoonâs chest constricted painfully.
âI should have noticed,â he said quietly.
The shopkeeperâs gaze snapped back to him. âYou donât get to decide that.â
Namjoon flinched, but nodded. âYouâre right.â
âI raised her,â the man said, voice lower now. âNot because she was broken. Because she deserved safety. Sheâs lived her life being carefulâtoo careful. I wonât have that undone by someone who doesnât understand what it cost her.â
Namjoon swallowed hard. âI donât want to hurt her.â
âWhat do you want to do with my daughter?â the man asked again.
The repetition was deliberate.
Namjoon didnât rush this time.
âI want to respect her,â he said. âEven if that means waiting. Even if it means walking away.â
The silence that followed felt differentâstill tense, but no longer sharp enough to cut.
The man straightened, folding the cloth in his hands. âIf she wants to see you, she will reach out. Until then, you donât come looking for answers she hasnât given.â
âYes, sir.â
âAnd if you hurt her,â the shopkeeper added quietly, eyes unwavering, âyou wonât be dealing with lawyers.â
Namjoon met his gaze without flinching. âI wouldnât.â
The man nodded once. âGood.â
As they turned toward the door, Namjoon hesitated. The bell above it was still.
âPlease tell her,â he said softly, âthat I hope she rests well.â
I think we, as a general community, need to start taking this little moment more seriously.
This, right here? This is asking for consent. Itâs a legal necessity, yes, but it is also you, the reader, actively consenting to see adult content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that youâre emotionally capable of handling it.
You find the content you find behind this warning disgusting, horrifying, upsetting, triggering? You consented. You said you could handle it, and you were able to back out at any time. You take responsibility for yourself when you click through this, and so long as the creator used warnings and tags correctly, you bear full responsibility for its impact on you.
âChildren are going to lie about their ageâ is probably true, but thatâs the problem of them and the people who are responsible for them, not the people that they lie to.
If youâre not prepared to see adult content, created by and for adults, donât fucking click through this. And if you do, for all thatâs holy, donât blame anyone else for it.
Except this is the last line of consent before the actual work. So if youâre at this button you have already done the following:
1) chosen to go onto AO3 in the first place
2) chosen the fandom you wish to read about
3) had the chance to filter for the things you do want to see like a specific pairing or a specific AU
4) had the chance to specifically filter out any tags you donât want to see like, oh I donât know, incest and non-con and dub-con and paedophilia
5) had the chance to set the rating level if you wish to remove any explicit content at all
6) have read the summary of the story, which arenât always great but are the only indicator of what the story will be like writing wise so something about it was good enough for you to click on it.
7) have read the tags of the story which will tell you what is actually in the story. If you have used filters to remove stories with things you donât want then there shouldnât be anything in here thatâs a shock to you but maybe there is. Thatâs why the tags are there for you to check for yourself.
8) Then you have to actually click on the story. You cannot see anything other than the summary or the tags without personally deciding that you are going to open and read this story.
9) Only here, at step number nine, do you get to the adult content warning pictured above. You have been through eight different steps, the last six of which have also been opportunities for you to see that this has adult content. And AO3 has *STILL* stopped you to ask one last time âare you sure you want to read this because it has things that only adults should see in itâ.
If after this point you are reading incest and paedophilia then itâs probably because you specifically went looking for it.
hey! i have one imagine idea i just saw an instagram reel regarding wife drawing eyebrows with brow pencils on their toddlers and their husbands reaction to it i don't know why when i saw that my mind just went to jungkook x reader and yoongi x reader i like your detail writting style and thought you would write it in the best way a comedy mix with fluff P.s. it's my first time requesting something so i dont know how to give details hehe so plase make it long.
Oooooooo point point. Okay, im not very active on social media so I shall go and find that but I believe I've seen it in passing.
I do think that this is a funny imagine to do cause im seeing utter horrors in my brain HAHAHAA
Summary: Y/N is someone who never planned to adopt a hybridâuntil she meets Jungkook, a withdrawn rabbit hybrid feared by everyone at the shelter. She brings him home thinking itâll be a quiet fresh start, but strange signs soon appear: a scar on his neck, panic around cars, and someone suddenly digging into his records.
When threats begin to surface, Y/N realises Jungkook wasnât simply abandonedâhe was taken, tracked, and never meant to stay free. With no power or connections, sheâs forced to fight in the only way she can: by refusing to give him back, and protecting him with everything she has.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut (I'll add on more when I write more!)
Getting Jungkook in the car caused a similar situation to getting Byeol into the car. Jungkook had started vigorously shaking in your hold as you approached your car. Working in your line as a lawyer for the Hybrid Association, you knew that hybrids were often - if not all the time - transported around in trucks and cars in their tiny cages.Â
So their reactions to cars did not alert you too much. But the strength that Jungkook was essentially vibrating at made you scared. It was so strong that for a second, you were afraid his fur was going to fall off. You cooed and shushed him, gliding a knuckle between his eyes and snout.Â
âItâs okay, itâs okay.â You tried to reassure him. The method you used on Byeol didnât seem to work much on him, leaving you to try other methods. As his breathing slowed down, you carefully placed him on the front car seat, wrapped in a fluffy blanket you brought from home and his blanket from the shelter, stashing the cage in the trunk. However, Jungkookâs breathing started to pick up again, leaving you back to square one.Â
Sighing, you closed the passenger door and brought him to the driverâs seat. As you start your car, you place him snugly between your legs. You ensured that the edges of the blanket were tucked nicely under your legs so that he wouldnât suddenly go flying onto the mat if the car jerked.Â
Slowly, he peered his head out of the blankets, ears standing straight, and doe eyes looking at you in curiosity. You raised an eyebrow at him, quickly looking back at the roads. The drive back home wasnât long - just about fifteen minutes or so. As you entered your neighbourhood, Jungkook gained some courage to climb out of his blankets. You carefully held him up to see the view as you drove.Â
Chirps and squeals emitted from him as his small body wiggled around in your hold. You quickly brought him down as you were losing control of your grip. He whined as you placed him in your lap.Â
âJust a minute.â You cooed. You were glad that he currently seemed to be enjoying the view of your neighbourhood. You chose a place on the quieter side of the city, not considering the suburbs but the looming trees and parks surrounding your apartment building might as well say so.Â
You carefully brought Jungkook up onto your shoulder, wincing when he found purchase in your hair and pulled a little too hard while trying to gain balance. You did not want to push him into doing something he wouldnât feel comfortable with. But it seems that he was more adventurous than you gave him credit for.Â
A soft thump sounded against your shoulder.
You stiffened immediately, fingers tightening on your seatbelt as Jungkookâs tiny paws dug into your sweater to balance himself. His ears twitched like radar dishes, swivelling at every sound the car made â the faint hum of the engine, the click of your signal light, the distant shriek of a bus braking somewhere two streets away.
He was alert in a way that didnât feel natural for something so small.
It didnât feel like curiosity.
It felt like survival.
âOkay,â you murmured, voice gentle. âWeâre almost home. No oneâs going to touch you. No oneâs going to take you anywhere.â
Jungkookâs nose worked furiously against the collar of your sweater, sniffing you like he was trying to memorise you by scent alone. When your car slowed at the security gantry, he went rigid again â body trembling so hard you felt it in your bones.
Your heart tugged painfully.
You had handled distressed hybrids before. You had sat through interviews, read case files, argued in courtrooms until your throat went raw, all so hybrids could be treated like beings instead of goods. But those were always other people's stories, other hybridsâ pain filtered through documents and hearings.
This was different.
This was warm fur against your skin.
This was frantic breathing tucked into your shoulder like he expected someone to drag him back any second.
You pulled your car into the parking lot with slow, careful movements, as if any sudden shift might shatter him.
The moment you cut the engine, Jungkookâs ears snapped straight.
Silence filled the car.
Not comforting silence. The kind that made your skin prickle.
He stayed frozen, eyes wide and glossy, body coiled like a spring. A prey animal on the edge of flight.
âItâs okay,â you whispered again, reaching up to stroke between his eyes and snout.
He didnât pull away, but he didnât relax either.
You swallowed. âWeâll do it your way, alright? We donât have to go fast.â
Jungkook blinked once. Then twice.
And slowly his trembling eased, like he was forcing his body to listen even if his instincts were screaming otherwise.
You exhaled a breath you didnât realise you were holding.
Carefully, you opened your door, stepping out into the cool evening air. You made sure your movements stayed smooth, predictable. Then you turned back and lifted Jungkook into your arms properly, wrapping him in both blankets â yours and the shelterâs â until only his nose and ears peeked out.
He made a tiny sound, almost a grunt of disapproval, then burrowed deeper anyway.
âAlright,â you said, half amused despite yourself. âBossy already.â
You locked the car, slung your bag over your shoulder, and started toward the lift lobby.
Jungkookâs head popped out again as you approached the building entrance. His nose twitched, testing the air. New smells. New echoes. New people.
A passerby stepped out of the lift â a middle-aged man with grocery bags â and Jungkook immediately shrank into your chest like heâd been shot.
You pivoted instinctively, putting your body between them, one hand flattening over the blanket like a shield.
The man barely spared you a glance before continuing on.
Still, Jungkook stayed pressed into you, breathing fast.
âYouâre okay,â you murmured. âHeâs gone.â
You felt something soft nudge your wrist under the blanket.
Not a bite.
Not a scratch.
A careful nudge. As if asking: Are you sure?
Your throat tightened.
âYes,â you promised quietly. âIâm sure.â
You took the lift up, the quiet kind that played soft music meant to be ârelaxingâ but only made the silence feel stranger. Jungkook stared at the mirrored walls with suspicion, ears flattening every time the lift shuddered.
When you reached your floor, you walked faster â not rushing him, but wanting to get him out of the open corridor, away from unfamiliar space.
You slid your key into the lock.
The door clicked open.
Jungkook immediately went still.
Your apartment wasnât fancy â clean, warm, lived-in. A small entryway, a shoe rack, a faint scent of citrus cleaner and the lavender candle you always forgot to light. Past the entry was your living room: couch, coffee table, bookshelf stuffed with case binders, legal texts, and the occasional impulsive romance novel you refused to acknowledge. The kitchen was open-concept, neat from habit, because you couldnât stand clutter.
And down the hallâŠ
The spare bedroom you had once called storage.
Now it would be his.
You closed the door gently, locking it out of reflex. The sound made Jungkook flinch.
âOh,â you realised quickly. âSorryâ I just⊠habit. Itâs safe here, I promise. This is your home now.â
You walked into the living room and crouched down slowly, bringing him to the carpet. You didnât let go immediately â you waited, keeping your hands steady under the blanket, giving him the choice to leave or stay.
For a long moment, he didnât move.
Then a tiny paw pushed out, testing the carpet.
Another.
His head emerged.
Those big eyes swept the room, drinking it in. His nose twitched at the couch, the bookshelf, the kitchen, the hallway shadows. He looked like he was mapping exits, threats, hiding spots.
Then he hopped forward two careful stepsâŠ
And immediately bolted under your coffee table.
You froze.
For a second you worried youâd done something wrong â moved too fast, brought him into too bright a space, made a sound that reminded him of cages.
But then you saw it: the way his ears perked slightly, the way his body settled into the shadow.
He wasnât panicking.
He was choosing safety.
Your chest softened.
âOkay,â you said quietly, sitting back on your heels. âUnder the table it is.â
Jungkook stared at you from the shadows, only his eyes and a bit of white fur visible.
You turned your palms upward, showing you werenât reaching.
âWe can just⊠exist for a bit. No touching. No rules. Just you and me.â
Silence.
Then, very slowly, Jungkook edged forward again, still under the table.
He didnât come out fully â but he crept close enough that his nose could touch your fingertips.
A soft sniff.
Another.
You held still.
He nudged your finger, harder this time, like he was testing whether youâd flinch.
You didnât.
He made a little sound â not quite a purr, not quite a grunt â and retreated again.
But the retreat wasnât frantic.
It was controlled.
Like he was learning.
And for the first time since the car, your shoulders relaxed.
âRight,â you murmured. âLetâs get you settled.â
You stood carefully and walked down the hall to the spare room. It still looked like a room that hadnât been lived in â a bed with plain sheets, a stack of boxes by the wall, your old treadmill folded in the corner, some storage bins youâd been too lazy to organise.
You grimaced. âWeâre fixing that. Sorry.â
You returned to the living room, crouching again near the table.
âJungkook,â you called softly. âIâm going to show you your room. You can come if you want.â
He didnât move.
You nodded. âOkay. Iâll just⊠bring the room to you then.â
You went to your closet and pulled out the softest spare blanket you owned, plus a thick towel, and a shallow bowl. In the kitchen, you grabbed a small dish of water and the emergency bag of vegetables you kept because you were always too tired to cook properly. You chose leafy greens and a slice of apple â cautious, small portions.
Back in the living room, you placed the towel and blanket in the corner near the table, like a makeshift nest. You set the water nearby, food a little farther so he wouldnât feel crowded.
Then you sat down on the couch with your phone and did the hardest thing you could do for someone like you:
Nothing.
No hovering.
No coaxing.
No forcing.
Minutes passed.
Jungkookâs nose appeared.
Then his head.
He scanned the new setup, eyes narrowing. Suspicion, then consideration.
He hopped forward, sniffed the towel nest, and immediately turned around to glare at you like youâd personally offended him.
You blinked. âWhat?â
He made a small huffing sound and shoved his face into the towel, pawing at it until it bunched the way he wanted. Then he dragged the edge of the blanket into the towel, creating a thicker layered burrow.
You stared, impressed.
âSo youâre an interior designer,â you murmured. âNoted.â
Jungkook ignored you.
He tested the water next â a quick lap, then he froze, ears flicking, like he expected someone to punish him for drinking.
When nothing happened, his tiny shoulders - eased.
Then he approached the food.
He sniffed it.
Paused, looked at you again.
This time his stare wasnât angry.
It was⊠uncertain.
You softened your voice. âItâs yours. I wonât take it away. No one will.â
Jungkook stared for a long moment.
Then he took the apple slice in his mouth and dragged it back into his burrow like a thief.
You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing.
A small victory, but it felt like a mountain.
You spent the rest of the evening doing quiet things â washing dishes you hadnât used, folding laundry you didnât need to fold, moving slowly around your apartment like you were sharing space with a fragile bird.
Every time you passed the coffee table, Jungkook watched you.
Every time you lowered your voice, he listened.
And when night fell and the city lights glowed through your windows, you finally sat on the floor near his burrow again, hugging your knees.
âHey,â you said softly. âIâm going to sleep soon. You can stay there. Or⊠you can come to your room later. I wonât lock any doors inside the apartment. Youâre not trapped.â
Jungkook didnât respond, but his ears flicked.
You stood up and walked to your bedroom, leaving the hall light on low.
In your room, you changed into comfortable clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your phone. Your work email already had new notifications â case updates, meeting reminders, messages from colleagues who had no concept of boundaries.
You sighed.
Then you whispered into the quiet, not sure if Jungkook could hear you through the hall.
âI took the next few days off.â
You laughed weakly at yourself. âI donât know why Iâm telling you that. You donât care.â
A pause.
Then, faintly, a soft thump in the hallway.
Your breath caught.
You didnât move. Didnât call out. Didnât rush.
You waited.
A few seconds later, something small padded into your doorway.
Jungkook stood there, wrapped in his blanket like a cape, only his face peeking out. He stared at you with those big eyes, ears twitching uncertainly.
You swallowed.
âHi,â you whispered.
He stared.
Then, slowly, he took one hop forward.
Then another.
He stopped at the edge of your carpet and looked around your room like he expected it to bite him.
You patted the bed lightly. âYou canât jump up yet, can you?â
Jungkookâs eyes narrowed as if offended.
He hopped onto a chair by your desk instead, then sat there like a tiny king, blanket pooled around him, ears upright.
You blinked.
He blinked back.
And for the first time today, you felt something warm settle in your chest that wasnât worry.
It was⊠companionship.
âOkay,â you whispered, voice thick. âYou can stay there.â
Jungkook made a soft sound â almost satisfied.
And when you finally lay down and turned off the lights, you could still feel his eyes on you, steady in the dark.
Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut
Taglist: @lovejkmilitarywife @forevermoon1306
WC: 1984
< Prev. Series mstr. Next >
Y/N heard the rain before she saw him.
It hit the roof in heavy sheets, relentless, the kind that swallowed sound instead of sharpening it. From her apartment upstairs, the city felt far awayâreduced to blurred headlights and the distant hush of water rushing along the gutters. She had the window cracked open just enough to let the air in, the smell of wet concrete and leaves curling into the room.
She was halfway through reheating leftovers when something tugged at her attention.
Not a sound.
A feeling.
She crossed the room slowly, bare feet quiet against the floor, and looked down through the narrow window that faced the street.
The bookstoreâs front door was dark.
And on the step, soaked through and unmoving, sat Namjoon.
Her breath caught.
For a moment, she just stood there, hand braced against the window frame, watching the rain slick his hair flat against his forehead, watching the water drip from the sleeves of his coat and pool at his feet. He wasnât hunched or frantic. Just still. Like he had run out of places to put whatever he was carrying and had set it down here instead.
He didnât look up.
Y/N didnât think.
She grabbed a cardigan, shoved her feet into shoes without socks, and was down the stairs before the kettle had finished clicking off in her mind.
The rain soaked her instantly, cold seeping through fabric, but she barely noticed. She unlocked the shop door quickly, quietly, then pushed it open.
The bell chimed.
Namjoon flinched.
He looked up, startled, eyes unfocused for half a second before recognition settled in. Rain dripped from his lashes. His expression was carefully blankâbut there was exhaustion underneath it, the kind that came from holding something in too tightly for too long.
âY/N,â he said, voice hoarse. âIâsorry. I didnât mean toââ
âCome inside,â she said gently.
Not a question.
He hesitated, glancing at the door, at the rain, at herâlike he wasnât sure heâd heard correctly.
âItâs late,â he said. âI can go.â
âYou donât need to,â she replied. âYouâre freezing.â
That did it.
He nodded once and stood, movements stiff, like the cold had settled into his joints. She stepped back to give him space, holding the door open until he crossed the threshold.
The warmth hit him immediately.
The bookstore after hours felt differentâquieter, softer. The lights were dim, only a few left on, casting long shadows across the shelves. The familiar smell of paper and wood wrapped around them, grounding.
Y/N locked the door behind him.
âYou can sit,â she said, gesturing toward the small table near the back. âIâll make tea.â
He shrugged off his coat, water splattering softly onto the floor. âIâm sorry about the mess.â
âIâll survive,â she said lightly.
She moved behind the counter, hands steady as she filled the kettle, set it on the burner. The routine helped. Gave her something to do while she listened to the quiet settle between them.
Namjoon sat where she indicated, shoulders slumped now that he was no longer bracing against the rain. He stared at his hands, fingers red from the cold.
She returned with two mugs a few minutes later, steam curling into the air.
âChamomile,â she said, placing one in front of him. âItâs⊠gentle.â
âThank you,â he murmured, wrapping his hands around the mug immediately, like heâd been waiting for the warmth.
They sat in silence.
Not awkward. Not strained.
Just quiet.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, drumming against the windows, muffling the city until it felt like they were the only two people awake. Inside, the bookstore breathed softly around them.
After a while, Namjoon spoke.
âI didnât plan to come here,â he said. âI was just walking.â
Y/N nodded. âSometimes walking brings you where you need to be.â
He huffed a faint, humourless laugh. âI sat there for a long time.â
âI know,â she said.
He glanced up, surprised.
âI live upstairs,â she added simply.
âOh.â He looked toward the ceiling, then back at her. âThat makes sense.â
She didnât ask why heâd been there. Didnât ask about the dinner, the rain, or the weight that still clung to him like a second coat. She just sat across from him, hands wrapped around her own mug, presence steady.
âYou donât have to explain anything,â she said quietly. âIâm just glad you didnât stay out there.â
Something in his expression crackedânot dramatically, not all at once. Just enough.
âThank you,â he said again, softer this time.
They drank their tea slowly.
At one point, Y/N rose to grab a towel, setting it gently beside him without comment. He took it, nodded, dried his hair and hands with careful motions.
The minutes passed.
Eventually, his breathing evened out. His shoulders lifted and fell less tensely. The storm outside began to ease, the rain softening into something quieter.
âYou donât have to leave right away,â she said. âWhen youâre ready.â
He looked at her, really looked.
âYouâre very good at this,â he said.
âAt what?â
âAt letting people exist,â he replied.
She smiled faintly. âIâve had practice.â
They didnât say anything else.
They didnât need to.
For now, warmth and quiet were enough.
And when Namjoon finally stood, steadier than when heâd arrived, the bookstore didnât feel like just a place anymore.
It felt like shelter.
The windows were still streaked, thin trails of water drying unevenly in the cold air, distorting the view outside. Morning light crept in slowly, pale and hesitant, settling into the shelves instead of flooding them. The floorboards smelled faintly damp, wood swelling just enough to creak more than usual beneath her steps.
Y/N liked mornings like this.
They made everything quieter. Slower.
She wiped down the counter with careful strokes, pausing now and then to straighten a stack of bookmarks or smooth a folded recommendation card. The events of the night before lingered in her bodyânot as memory, exactly, but as a sensation. Like warmth that hadnât fully faded yet.
Namjoon had left quietly.
No awkwardness. No promises. Just a thank you, soft and sincere, and a glance back at the door like he was memorising the shape of it. She hadnât watched him go from the window. She didnât need to.
Still, the space heâd occupied remained.
She found herself replaying small things as the morning wore on. The way heâd wrapped his hands around the mug. The way his shoulders had lowered once he realised she wasnât going to ask anything of him. The sound of his breath when it finally evened out.
It unsettled her.
Not because it was unpleasant.
Because it mattered.
The bell chimed shortly after noon.
Her heart reacted before her mind didâa subtle, traitorous lift that she ignored as she looked up.
It wasnât him.
Just a regular. Middle-aged man, friendly enough, always bought gardening magazines and complained about the city. She greeted him politely, rang up his purchase, returned to her quiet.
The afternoon passed in fragments. A student searching for reference material. A couple arguing in whispers near fiction. Someone lingering too long in the poetry aisle like they were waiting for permission to feel something.
Y/N observed it all the way she always didâpresent but slightly removed.
Around three, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She didnât need to check the screen to know.
The bell chimed again not long after.
Namjoon stepped inside, dry this time, coat neatly folded over his arm. The light caught in his hair, softer than it had been the night before. He paused when he saw her, something unreadable flickering across his face before settling into a small, careful smile.
âHi,â he said.
âHi,â she replied.
The word felt different today. Less sheltered. More exposed.
He moved toward the back as usual, but slower. Like he was aware of the space between them now, measuring it instead of crossing it automatically. She followed him with her eyes as she finished shelving a return, noting the way his gaze flicked briefly to the window before returning to the shelves.
âYou okay?â she asked, when he stopped near the table.
âYes,â he said quickly. Then, after a beat, âBetter. Thank you. For last night.â
She nodded. âYou donât need to thank me.â
âI know,â he said. âBut I want to.â
They stood there for a moment, the air between them thicker than it had been before. Not uncomfortable. Just charged with something unnamed.
A customer wandered past them, phone in hand, news playing softly through the speaker before she muted it.
Y/N didnât catch the full headline. Just enough.
ââŠhybrid-related incidentâŠâ
ââŠpublic safety concernsâŠâ
ââŠadvocacy groups respondâŠâ
She felt it immediately.
The way Namjoonâs posture changed.
Not dramatically. Just a subtle tightening through his shoulders, jaw setting like heâd braced without meaning to. His gaze flicked toward the phone, then away, like heâd touched something hot.
âPeople really donât let things rest,â the customer muttered before moving on.
Namjoon exhaled slowly. âNo. They donât.â
The words themselves were neutral.
The way he said them wasnât.
Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him carefully now. âDo you want to sit?â
He nodded, pulling out a chair. âIf thatâs okay.â
She poured them both tea without asking. Set the mugs down gently, the ceramic clink louder than usual in the quiet.
Namjoon stared into his cup for a moment before speaking again.
âIâm sorry,â he said. âIf I seem⊠off.â
âYouâre allowed to be,â she replied.
He glanced up at her. âDo you ever feel like some things get discussed like abstract problems instead of lived ones?â
Her fingers curled around her mug. âAll the time.â
He hesitated. âI donât like how easily people talk about risk when theyâre not the ones affected.â
There it was.
Not accusation. Not anger.
Distance.
She nodded slowly. âItâs easier when it stays theoretical.â
âYes,â he said. âExactly.â
The word echoed too cleanly.
She felt something inside her shiftânot panic, not fear. Awareness. A line being drawn that she hadnât known was there until now.
Namjoon didnât hate.
He compartmentalised.
And that was more dangerous.
âYou donât have to stay,â she said gently, though she wasnât sure why the words left her mouth.
He shook his head. âNo. I want to.â
The answer should have reassured her.
Instead, it made her chest ache in a way she didnât have a name for yet.
They talked about safer things after that. Books. Weather. The cityâs strange ability to forget storms as soon as the sun returned. Namjoon laughed once, quietly, and the sound settled into her like something warm and heavy.
She noticed how easily she tracked his expressions now. How attuned she was to his silences. How much she wanted to reach out and steady him the way she had the night before.
She didnât.
Restraint tightened its holdânot out of fear, but out of understanding.
She knew now.
Not everything. Not fully.
But enough.
When Namjoon finally stood to leave, he hesitated, hand resting on the back of the chair.
âSame time next Thursday?â he asked.
Her answer came easily. Too easily.
âYes.â
After he left, the bookstore felt larger.
Too open.
Y/N turned the sign to Closed that evening with more care than usual, her reflection staring back at her from the glass. She looked thoughtful. Quietly undone.
She pressed her palm against the counter, grounding herself.
She liked him.
That much was clear now.
And she knewâjust as clearlyâthat if he found out who she was before he was ready, it wouldnât just hurt.
It would break something delicate they hadnât even named yet.
So she decided, quietly and alone in the fading light, to hold onto her truth a little longer.
Not to deceive.
But to protect whatever fragile thing was beginning to grow in the space between them.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Summary: Y/N is someone who never planned to adopt a hybridâuntil she meets Jungkook, a withdrawn rabbit hybrid feared by everyone at the shelter. She brings him home thinking itâll be a quiet fresh start, but strange signs soon appear: a scar on his neck, panic around cars, and someone suddenly digging into his records.
When threats begin to surface, Y/N realises Jungkook wasnât simply abandonedâhe was taken, tracked, and never meant to stay free. With no power or connections, sheâs forced to fight in the only way she can: by refusing to give him back, and protecting him with everything she has.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut (I'll add on more when I write more!)
You were not sure how you ended up here. âHereâ as in outside a worn down shelter for hybrids with your best friend bouncing up and down for joy. Luna has been your best friend since your diaper days thanks to your momâs being best friends. Lunaâs family is considered on the scale of âwell-offâ while yours was⊠Well, you werenât struggling, but you werenât exactly through to her extent either. But friendship was never about money but the connection that brings you together.Â
Now, you really wanted to just hide away in the corner of your room, never to come out. You didnât know why you had decided to follow her on your day off, letting her drag you out of your bed.Â
âCome on, come on!â Luna nearly shrieked with excitement. She wouldâve been a bunny if she wasnât human.Â
You sighed, tilting your head up to the sky and breathing out a deep sigh. May the Lord bless you with enough patience today. You let her pull you into the shelter as she told the receptionist, âKim Luna. I have an appointment today.âÂ
You could see the eyes of the receptionist bulging out of her sockets as she looked between the both of you. The receptionist frantically searched for the appointment schedule before bowing. âAh, Ms Kim.â Sweat was visibly beading down her neck. âA specialist will come for you soon. Please, take a seat!â
The both of you sat down as Luna gushed. âI actually canât believe they finally - finally - let me come. Mom was always pushing for better, well-bred hybrids while Dad always was fine with anything - as usual. But when he heard I chose this shelter he was angry. He didnât want âscum coming homeâ was what he said.â She sighed. âTold him to piss off.âÂ
You snorted. You could never see her telling her Dad to âpiss offâ. The sentiment, probably, but she was too much of her fatherâs daughter to say that directly in his face.Â
The both of you went silent as you heard hurried footsteps coming in your direction. A petite lady walked over to the both of you, nervous but stern. âThere will be no overstimulation on the hybrids, grabbing, and harsh treatment towards the hybrids. No food will be allowed in the hybrid areas either. As we move on from different types of hybrids, please remember to stay thoroughly sanitised.âÂ
The both of you nodded at her instructions. âMs Kim, this is your plus one today?â She pointed to you.Â
âYes.â Luna nodded. âHer name is in the appointment form I filled in.âÂ
It was?
The lady in white referred back to the papers she had in her arms. âAh, yes. Ms L/N Y/N.â You nodded and the lady took a note down. âAlright ladies, my name is Jung Haneul, one of the main specialists in the facility. The brief has been gone through so we can proceed.âÂ
You were definitely going to question her later.Â
She led both of you through a sanitation process while asking, âThe form stated that you are interested in seeing domesticated hybrids, more specifically dogs, cats, and their smaller partners?â Luna nodded. âDo you have specific breeds in mind or any preference?âÂ
âNo.â She replied and the lady - Haneul - nodded.Â
âThrough here would be the smaller hybrids, for example, hamsters, bunnies, guinea pigs, and more. As they are smaller and under the prey category, these hybrids tend to have frisky, scared characteristics. It takes a while for some of them to warm up.â
As the both of you walked into the room, it was obvious which group of hybrids were silent and which group was more energetic. A good half of the hybrids came bounding in your direction, grasping at your clothes to get a latch and pull themselves up. You kneeled down, giving them more access to you. The hybrids started to crowd you as you passed Luna a few of them.Â
As the hybrids started losing attention towards you and went to Luna, figuring out that she was the one adopting, a pair of rabbit ears caught your eye. You turned to Haneul, asking, âWhat breed is he?âÂ
Haneul looked at the rabbit you were pointing at. âAh, thatâs Jungkook. He is a white mini rex rabbit.â You nodded. âBut I recommend you to not approach him. He can be quite aggressive when approached.â
Well, duly noted.Â
Once Luna figured out that these little ones werenât what she would bring home, she got up, sticking out a hand for you. âLetâs go. I wanna see the rest of the hybrids before I make a decision and I know,â She stared you down with a look, âThat your ass wants to go home.âÂ
You shrugged. Honestly, she was right. Your social battery had been at an all-time low after the company dinner a few days ago. You do not usually join those parties but your boss had phrased it in a very demanding way this year and therefore, you were all forced to go.Â
You took her hand and the both of you proceeded. The system was the same from going to new rooms to meeting new hybrids and different breeds. They easily latched themselves onto the both of you, some more aggressive than the rest but living with animals, you were pretty used to their teeth and claws by now. Â
You were a family of 6 and being the youngest child of four, you were very much doted on. However, your family loves pets. Whether they were stray or domestic, they were always taken in as a part of your little family.Â
You were petting one of the sleeping hybrids in their animal counterpart forms when Luna bounced over to you, effectively waking up the sleeping dog. It whined and snuggled deeper between your legs. Your hands returned to stoke its ears.Â
âY/N, I think I found her.â
Your brows raised. Her?
âHer?â You questioned.Â
Luna nodded enthusiastically. âYes, yes. My hybrid.â
You looked around, trying to detect the one your friend was talking about. You would like to meet this hybrid before she adopts it.Â
You found your friendâs new little buddy huddled up in a ball at the edge of the room, under the pile of blankets and climbing wall. Its wiggly form peeked its head out of the blankets but upon seeing you, shot back in.Â
Disappointed you were, but you understood. Luna carefully approached the hybrid and coxed her out of her shell. âCome on now, sheâs my friend. She wonât hurt you. In fact, she works to save your kind and does a hellaâ good job at it.â You kicked her side as she boasted to her soon-to-be-hybrid.Â
âShut up.â You grumbled.Â
As much as it was a bit over the top, Luna managed to grab her out of the blankets, shoving her in your face. Your hands instinctively held the small Rottweiler puppy. She was very much full-grown by the looks of her human form but small for her breed.Â
Haneul popped over saying, âAh, you found Byeol!â She gave her a scratch behind her ears. âDue to certain mutations done in the laboratory, she is much smaller than her peers. She may be jumpy at first but after getting to know her, she is a very playful one.â Haneul patted the dog - Byeolâs head. Â
âIâll take her,â Luna said, suddenly getting up from the position she was sitting a few minutes ago.Â
The puppy - Byeol - started barking in excitement and somehow, it aches your heart knowing that a simple thing such as giving them a home can make them so happy when simple things like shelter should be a given.Â
As Haneul took the pup from your arms, the receptionist gave Luna some adoption papers to sign off. That left you with some free time on your hands. You walked back to the prey room, instantly locating the white rabbit. You gave him a little wave but he buried himself deeper under the blankets.Â
You sighed and turned away, not wanting to agitate the bunny any further. By the time you went back to the living hall, Luna was holding the hand of an unknown hybrid. Oh, itâs Byeol. You took a good look at the hybrid.Â
Just like Haneul had said, she sure is a lot smaller than the Rottweilers that you have encountered. Skinny, slightly malnourished, and very scared at this point in time. It was obvious that it had been a while since the poor hybrid had felt comfortable enough to shift into her human counterpart form.Â
âYou sure you donât want one?â Luna asked as the both of you left the shelter with her hybrid in tow. It walked a few steps behind the both of you before Luna held her hand and pulled her between the both of you.Â
You nodded. âRight now, I donât think I have the capacity to take care of one.â Although, the white rabbit in the shelter kept coming to your mind. It had looked so sad when you were leaving as if it was hoping that you would give him a pet before leaving. It pulled at your heartstrings to see such sorrowful eyes from such a tiny hybrid.Â
You shook your head. No, you truly have no time for this now. You werenât even sure if you could properly take care of yourself, lest to take care of another life.Â
âOkayâŠâ Luna looked at you funny. âIf you change your mind, we can always come back.âÂ
You nodded, thanking her for the sentiment. As the three of you settled into the car, Byeol suddenly whined, vigorously shaking her head at the offending vehicle. The two of you looked at her.Â
âByeol, please?â Luna begged her hybrid. âItâll just be a short ride, I promise.âÂ
Byeol whined even louder, suddenly shifting into her animal counterpart and scurrying away. You were quick to grab her before she went too far. Like a baby, you cooed and carefully rocked her, walking in circles around the car. The act significantly calmed her down. You placed her in the front seat, tucked between mountains of blankets.Â
She started shaking a little but did not seem as frantic as she did. Luna looked at you with grateful eyes. âIâll have to learn that from you.âÂ
You laughed softly. âIt comes with living with pets.â
The ride back home was silent, your brain constantly going back to the rabbit hybrid. Jungkook was his name. You sighed heavily. Getting out of the car, you gave Byeol a scratch behind her ears and thanked Luna for the ride.Â
âGet home safe.â You nodded and waved at the retreating vehicle. You really didnât know what to do.Â
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
It wasnât a few days later that you found yourself standing outside the same shelter but this time, you were going to adopt.Â
You took a deep breath and walked in, steeling your nerves.Â
âHello, welcome to Homes for Springs! How can I help you?â It was a different receptionist this time, you noted.
âHello,â You were glad your voice didnât waver. âI have an appointment under Ms L/N.â As the receptionist handed you a set of forms, you sat down, waiting for the specialist to take you over.Â
âAs you have been here before and went through the briefing, you are free to enter.â
You nodded, grateful that you didnât have to awkwardly stand there listening to the specialist talk. As you entered the room, your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings for a specific breed. As your eyes locked eyes with it, it jumped back. You cautiously manoeuvred around the hyperactive hybrids and made your way to him.Â
The specialist realised where you were going and held out a hand. âI would suggest you donât approach him. He can be quite aggressive.â
Right, nothing you havenât already heard before.Â
When you continued in the exact direction, the specialist didnât say anything, however, the rest of the hybrids started to wander off. It seems that there was some sort of radius territory around this little dude. So you stood still and observed. You were now at the edge of his territory, where hardly any hybrids dared to venture close to. Most of them were very skittish to be this close.Â
So you sat down, legs folded and palms facing up - welcoming. âHey, heard you are one frisky one.â You smiled at him. âHi Jungkook, Iâm Y/N.âÂ
The rabbit bounced backwards as if it was shocked that you knew its name. However, it slowly hopped over, nose hard at work, sniffing cautiously as he neared you. You didnât move - didnât dare to move in case you scared him away. When he was armâs length away, your fingers itched to stroke those long bunny ears.Â
So soft and fluffy.Â
You broke out of your trance when you felt something climbing onto your legs. Well, more like trying to. You slowly moved your hands, picking him up and placing him on your lap. His little paws moved around in your sweats, pawing at them before curling up.Â
You almost cooed at how the oh-so-aggressive little rabbit is curling up and sleeping between your legs. The both of you sat there in silence until Jungkook got up and perched his little head onto your lap instead, nearly sliding down if he didnât find purchase on your sweats.Â
He nudged your hand with his snout, looking up at you with a glare as if scolding you when you couldnât get what he meant.Â
âOh, you want pets?â You asked. You needed his approval before you touched him. Hybrid ears and tails were very sensitive and you didnât want to overstep a boundary.Â
Jungkook nudged your hand harder.Â
âOkay, okay.â You slowly petted him between his eyes and snout, slowly progressing to the top of his head and ears. A loud purr emitted from him as you rubbed the base of his ears. Jungkook shot up, startled as he buried himself deeper into you.Â
You held in your laugh.Â
âMiss, shall we move on?â The specialist called out to you.Â
You looked down at the rabbit that is now looking at you with those doe eyes and it just solidifies your reason to be here. You carefully picked him up, bringing him close to your chest as he started to fuss.Â
âDo you wanna come home with me?â You brought him to your eye level. You knew he understood you but you asked again. âDo you wanna come?âÂ
Jungkook had stilled in your hands, eyes looking straight into yours. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. If this was a cartoon show, you could hear the crickets chirping in the background dramatically.Â
Suddenly, Jungkook fussed around in your hold, causing you to let him go as he scurried away. You sighed and got up.Â
Guess he doesnât want to.Â
There would be nothing left for you since you came for him. Just as you were leaving the room, you felt a weight on your heels. Looking down, you found Jungkook with a long blanket trailing behind him. So you crouched back down to his level, asking, âDo you want to come home with me?â
He nodded, hopping around you.Â
You picked him up, wrapping him in the blanket he trailed along, going over to the specialist. âIâll take him, please.â
The specialist looked at you like youâve gone mad. âHe is a troublesome one,â pointing to Jungkook with a look. âAre you very sure?â
You nodded.Â
âIf he causes any trouble, feel free to bring him back.â The specialist sighed and you felt Jungkook burrow deeper into the blanket. You felt bad and started stroking his ears.Â
As the specialist took Jungkook from you, you signed the papers given to you by the receptionist and when Jungkook came back in a cage, you slowly took it from her, hoping that the sudden movement wouldnât jostle him too much.Â
Jungkook was yours now and you were going to make sure he got the best you can provide him with. No more looking sad for that rabbit.Â
Summary: Y/N has a habit - her schedules are always set, always pristine, always clear. Namjoon has a habit of doing things he doesn't like - particularly dinner with colleagues. But he wants to do one thing, and that is to hunt down prey.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid
Warnings: angst, abuse, smut
Taglist: @lovejkmilitarywife @forevermoon1306
WC: 2728
< Prev. Series mstr. Next >
The courthouse smelled like disinfectant and old paper.
Namjoon had been coming here long enough that the scent no longer bothered him. It used toâearly on, when everything still felt too sharp, too final. Now it was just another marker of space, another reminder that some places existed to catalogue damage after it had already been done.
He finished the hearing just after three.
The case itself was unremarkable. Procedural. A plea deal that would satisfy no one and offend fewer. He packed his files away carefully, nodding to a colleague in passing, and stepped out into the cold.
His phone buzzed before he made it down the steps.
Yuna.
He stopped walking.
Yuna didnât call unless she had to. She preferred textsâshort, precise, practical. Calls meant something was wrong. Or that she was trying very hard to pretend it wasnât.
He answered on the third ring. âHey.â
âHey,â she said. Her voice was steady. Too steady. âAre you busy?â
He glanced back at the building behind him, stone and glass looming. âI can make time.â
There was a pause. He could hear traffic on her end, the distant sound of a train passing. She exhaled softly.
âI had a nightmare,â she said.
Namjoon closed his eyes.
âOkay,â he replied, gentle. âDo you want to talk about it?â
âIt was stupid,â she said immediately. âI donât even remember all of it. Justârunning. And fur. And blood.â
His grip on his phone tightened.
âYunaââ
âI know,â she cut in quickly. âI know it was a long time ago. Iâm notâ Iâm not blaming anyone. I just thought you should know.â
He leaned against the railing, the metal cold through his coat. âYou donât have to protect me from it.â
âIâm not,â she said quietly. âIâm protecting myself.â
That hurt more than he expected.
They didnât say the word. They never did.
They didnât say hybrid.
They didnât say facility.
They didnât say accident.
They didnât say screaming or blood on the pavement or how small she had looked on the hospital bed.
Some things didnât need naming to exist.
âIâm okay,â Yuna continued. âReally. I just⊠there was a report on the news this morning. Another escape. Different district. Different circumstances.â
His jaw tightened. âAnd?â
âAnd I thought of you,â she admitted. âBecause you always get this look. Like youâre bracing for something.â
He swallowed. âThatâs my job.â
âNo,â she said. âThatâs your past.â
They sat with that for a moment, connected by silence and distance and a memory that had never quite settled.
âYou donât have to carry it like this,â she added softly.
He almost laughed. âSomeone has to.â
âYou were a kid too,â Yuna said. âYou forget that.â
He did forget.
Often.
After they hung up, Namjoon didnât move right away. He stayed there, watching people passâlawyers, clerks, defendants, families. Lives intersecting briefly before splitting apart again.
He thought of the girl from the bookstore.
Y/N.
The way she held herself like she was always prepared to step back. The way her answers were careful, but never dishonest. The way she watched people without demanding anything from them.
He wondered what she would say if he told her.
Probably nothing.
Probably exactly what he needed.
That thought unsettled him.
That night, he dreamed of fur and small hands reaching out, of Yunaâs voice calling his name, of a city that didnât care who got hurt as long as it kept moving.
When he woke, his chest was tight and his hands were clenched into the sheets.
He didnât go back to sleep.
Thursday came anyway.
He found himself standing in front of the bookstore later than usual, the sky already dimming, streetlights flickering on one by one. He hesitated before pushing the door open, a rare thing for him.
Inside, the warmth hit him immediately. The familiar smell. Paper and dust and something calming.
Y/N was behind the counter, writing something in her notebook. She looked up when the bell chimed.
Their eyes met.
Something in her expression shiftedânot concern, not alarm. Recognition.
âYouâre late,â she said gently.
âYeah,â he replied. âSorry.â
âYou donât have to apologise.â
He stepped closer, resting his hands on the counter, grounding himself in the solid wood. âDo you ever feel like the past waits until youâre doing okay before reminding you it exists?â
She didnât answer right away.
Then she closed her notebook and met his gaze fully. âYes.â
That was all she said.
It was enough.
For the first time since the call with Yuna, something in his chest loosened. Just a fraction.
He didnât know why.
He didnât know what Y/N was holding back.
But standing there, in that quiet, imperfect space, he realised something uncomfortable and undeniable: Whatever she was restraining inside herself, it mirrored him more than he was ready to admit.
And he wasnât sure how much of it he liked about it.Â
Namjoon asked her on a Tuesday.
Not impulsively. Not with rehearsed charm. He waited until the store had emptied, until the evening light flattened into gold along the spines of the books, until the city outside softened into background noise.
âWould you like to get coffee sometime?â he asked, standing on the customer side of the counter, hands folded together like he was presenting evidence instead of a question.
Y/N looked at him for a momentâreally looked. Not weighing him, not dissecting his intent. Just observing.
Then she said, âYes.â
The word landed gently, like it hadnât been forced.
Relief loosened something in his shoulders that he hadnât realised was tight.
âBut,â she added, tilting her head slightly, âThursdays are better.â
He smiled. âI figured.â
So Namjoon prepared, setting his calendar, clearing his schedules, and arrived early the next Thursday.
By the time he stepped back onto the street, the paper bag was already warm in his hands.
The bookstoreâs window glowed invitingly as he approached. Inside, Y/N was rearranging a display near the front, sleeves pushed up, hair loosely tied back. She glanced up when the bell chimed, surprise flickering briefly before she noticed what he was holding.
âYou didnât have to,â she said, already moving to clear space on the counter.
âI wanted to,â he replied. âAnd I thought⊠this way, you donât have to leave.â
She paused, then nodded slowly. âThank you.â
He set the coffees down carefully, the pastries between them like an offering. The store smelled richer for it nowâpaper and sugar and something warm that softened the edges of the space.
They didnât sit right away.
Y/N finished helping a customer, rang up a purchase, flipped the sign to Back in Five, and then joined him behind the counter, perching on a stool she rarely used.
He handed her the coffee. âI hope this is okay.â
She took a sip, eyes closing briefly. âItâs perfect.â
Something in his chest eased.
They ate in companionable silence at first, the kind that didnât need filling. Outside, the city moved. Inside, time slowed just enough to feel intentional.
Namjoon watched the way she broke off small pieces of pastry instead of biting into it, how she kept her gaze level even when thinking, how her fingers lingered on the rim of her cup for warmth.
He cleared his throat.
âThereâs something I wanted to ask you,â he said.
She looked up, attentive but not guarded. âOkay.â
He hesitatedânot because he didnât know what to say, but because he did.
âMy sister,â he began. âHer name is Yuna. She was hurt a long time ago when we were younger. It was⊠an accident. No one was charged. No case to reopen.â
His voice stayed even. Controlled.
âSheâs okay now,â he added quickly. âPhysically. Mostly.â
Y/Nâs fingers stilled around her cup. âAnd you?â
He exhaled. âIâm a lawyer because of it.â
That earned a quiet nod - not in pity, rather recognition.
âShe doesnât hold grudges,â he said. âThatâs the thing. She never blamed anyone. But IâŠâ He trailed off, jaw tightening. âI donât know how to let go of the anger without feeling like Iâm betraying her.â
Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, chin resting lightly on her hands. âWhat does she want?â
He frowned. âWhat do you mean?â
âNot what you think she needs,â Y/N clarified. âWhat sheâs actually asked for.â
He thought about it - About Yunaâs voice on the phone and her careful reassurances.
âShe wants me to stop holding grudges and hoping for the worst,â he admitted.
Y/N smiled faintly. âThat sounds like her trusting you.â
He scoffed softly. âOr underestimating me.â
âOr knowing you well enough to believe you can learn.â Y/N took a sip of the coffee.Â
He looked at her then, really looked. The steadiness in her gaze wasnât born from ignorance. It came from experience.
âHow do you do it?â he asked quietly. âCarry something heavy without letting it decide everything else?â
She considered the question seriously.
âI donât,â she said finally. âNot all the time. I just decide,â she continued, âwho gets to feel it with me and who doesnât.â
The answer settled between them, unadorned and honest.
âIt is,â she said. âBut itâs also freeing.â
They sat with that.
A customer knocked lightly on the glass, peering in with a hopeful look. Y/N checked the time, grimaced apologetically, and flipped the sign back to Open.
âRain check?â she asked.
âAnytime,â he replied easily.
As he gathered the cups, she reached out and touched his wrist briefly. Not to stop him. Just to anchor.
âFor what itâs worth,â she said, voice low, âyou donât sound like someone whoâs betraying anyone. And you can leave the stuff around. Iâll clear up later.â
He swallowed. âThank you.â
When he left, the bell chimed as always. But this time, the sound followed him longer.
He didnât have answers.
But he had somewhere to bring the questions now.
And that felt like a beginning.
Company dinners always started the same way.
Too much light. Too much noise. A room arranged to encourage conversation but designed to amplify it insteadâglass clinking, cutlery scraping, laughter bouncing off polished surfaces until it lost all warmth. The restaurant had floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the city back at itself, a blur of neon and rain-streaked streets beyond the glass.
Namjoon sat where he was assigned, posture straight, jacket folded neatly behind him. His reflection stared back faintly from the window beside his seatâtie loosened just enough to look approachable, expression neutral in the way heâd perfected over years.
The food arrived in stages. Plates too wide, portions too small.
He barely tasted any of it.
Conversation flowed around him in loose arcs. A junior associate talked too loudly about a recent win. Someone complained about judges. Someone else laughed too hard at a joke that wasnât particularly funny.
Namjoon contributed when expected. A nod here. A short reply there. Just enough to remain present without inviting attention.
That worked.
Until it didnât.
âSo,â someone across the table said, leaning back in their chair, voice casual in a way that felt practiced. âWhatâs this I hear about you leaving on time lately?â
A few heads turned.
Namjoon blinked. âIâve always left on time.â
Laughter rippled through the table.
âThatâs not true,â another colleague said. âYou used to live in the office.â
âI still do,â Namjoon replied evenly. âJust more efficiently.â
Someone grinned. âSounds like someone has a reason.â
The words landed heavier than intended.
âIs there a reason?â another asked. âAnyone we should know about?â
Heat crept up the back of his neck before he could stop it. He shifted slightly in his chair, suddenly aware of the way attention narrowed, focused.
âThereâs nothing to announce,â he said, keeping his tone light.
âOh, come on,â someone else chimed in. âYouâre blushing.â
âI am not,â he replied automatically.
That only made it worse.
A few chuckles followed. Someone raised their glass. âTo Namjoonâfinally joining the rest of us in having a life.â
He forced a smile, lifted his water in return. The moment passed, but the echo of it lingered, uncomfortable and exposed.
Thenâinevitablyâit turned.
A different voice, quieter but sharper. âSpeaking of personal things⊠wasnât your sisterâs case brought up again recently?â
Namjoonâs fingers tightened around his fork.
The restaurant noise dimmed, like someone had turned the volume down just enough for the words to cut cleanly.
âI thought I saw something about it,â the colleague continued, unaware or unconcerned. âAn appeal request? Or some advocacy group trying to reopen it?â
Namjoon set the fork down carefully. Slowly.
âIt wasnât reopened,â he said. His voice was calm. Polite. âAnd it wonât be.â
âOh,â the person said, blinking. âI just assumedâwith your position nowâyou might want to push for closure.â
Closure.
The word sat heavy and wrong in his chest.
âMy sister doesnât want that,â Namjoon replied, a thin edge slipping into his tone despite his effort. âAnd itâs not a topic for speculation.â
Silence followed.
It stretched longer than was comfortable.
Someone cleared their throat. Another shifted in their seat. A server hovered awkwardly nearby, unsure whether to refill glasses or retreat.
Namjoon pushed his chair back.
âIf youâll excuse me,â he said evenly, standing. âI have an early morning.â
No one stopped him.
The moment he stepped outside, the rain hit him fully.
It wasnât a gentle drizzle. It was heavy, cold, relentlessâsheets of water pouring down, blurring streetlights into streaks of colour. The pavement gleamed underfoot, slick and reflective, every surface shining like it had been scrubbed raw.
He didnât open his umbrella.
Didnât call for a car.
He walked.
Each step splashed water up the hems of his trousers, soaked through his shoes. His coat darkened almost immediately, fabric clinging uncomfortably to his shoulders. The cold crept in slowly, deliberate, biting through layers until it settled into his bones.
It helped.
The anger had somewhere to go nowâdown his spine, into his legs, out into the rain.
The city stretched around him, familiar but distant. Traffic hissed past. Neon signs buzzed. Strangers hurried under umbrellas, heads down, lives intersecting only briefly before moving on.
His thoughts spiraled anyway.
Yunaâs voice. Too calm. Too careful.
The way people spoke about her like her pain was something that could be revisited at convenience. Like it belonged to anyone but her.
By the time he realised where he was headed, he was already there.
The bookstore stood dark against the street, its windows streaked with rain. The sign hung slightly crooked, flipped firmly to Closed. Only one light glowed faintly insideânear the back, where the shelves grew taller and the air always felt warmer.
Namjoon stopped short.
He stood there for a moment, rain dripping from his hair, breath fogging the glass.
Then he sank down onto the small step by the door, back pressing against the cool surface. The glass vibrated faintly with passing traffic. Water pooled around the curb, rushing toward the drain in a constant, rushing stream.
He watched it fall.
Watched the rain blur the outlines of the shelves behind the window, turning the familiar shapes into softened silhouettes.
His shoulders sagged.
Here, alone in the rain, he let the anger surface fully. Not explosive. Just heavy. Dense. The kind that sat in his chest and refused to move.
He pressed his palms together, elbows resting on his knees, head tipping back against the door.
The bell inside didnât ring.
The store stayed closed.
Still, something about being here eased the pressure. Like the building remembered him, even if the person inside it wasnât there to see him now.
He thought of Y/N.
The way she listened. The way she didnât rush him. The way she answered questions without demanding explanations in return.
He wondered what she would say if she saw him like thisâsoaked, tired, sitting on the ground like a man whoâd finally run out of ways to hold himself together.