MEANWHILE;

“You talk shit regardless of who’s listening,” Yoongi, tending to a small herb garden placed on the sun-drenched patio, couldn’t remember the last time almost every hybrid was in one spot– apart from Taehyung, as Hoseok had pointed out. Setting the tin watering can down, Yoongi chittered softly, serving as a warning, as if that could actually discourage Hoseok from yammering on. “Why can’t you restrain yourself from stirring the pot? This is the first nice day in weeks. Don’t ruin it, Foxy.”

“You’ve become a real stick in the mud, pussycat,” Hoseok leaned back on the lounge chair he was taking up, apparently trying to sun his legs judging by the sweat shorts he was wearing, all while sending a snarky nickname back to Yoongi.  “Y/N went out today, too. Not that she’d care if we talked about “Tae-tae”, they’ve been on ice lately.”

The fox hybrid was always dreadfully bored whenever Y/N wasn’t around to shoot the breeze with him. Sure, Hoseok had Seokjin, but the eldest hybrid didn’t quite match Hoseok’s constantly flowing energy, at least not all of the time. Giving his ear one more good scratch, Hoseok took a long look at everyone else– each quietly attending to their own little tasks. The importance of these tasks apparently outweighed fun banter, which peeved Hoseok. “I think they’ve patched things up, actually,” Jimin countered, rolling up the short sleeves of his tee shirt and offering up something for Hoseok to grasp onto.

Hoseok couldn’t definitively say, but he suspected the chronically polite coyote hybrid was humoring him by answering. Jimin didn’t take his eyes off of the potted geraniums he was drenching with a hose. While Hoseok observed him carry out the seemingly mundane task, Jimin felt a solid sort of pride filling his chest. It was a boot-muddying, laborious project, but the backyard Y/N let Jimin have free reign to shape offered him peace in many ways.

Not only was the backyard ready for summer spent outdoors, but their own food could be grown, and Vista– his horse– was there with him, too. Nature is what always healed Jimin: in the time he’d spent living with Y/N rebuilding their garden, Jimin had regained all of the muscle and brawn he used to have simply from ranch labor. When he was first brought to his now-home, his strong physique had softened during his long journey to Boston from Montana.

“I don’t know for sure, but during dinner last night, they sat next to each other. Both of them had comfortable posture, compared to before,” Jimin added after a moment, sniffing out Hoseok’s disappointment that nobody else was chiming in. Jimin always thought that Hoseok would have fit in spectacularly well at the ranch, where the hybrids were just as lively as him.

“Before, as in the chunk of time he was making her miserable? For weeks?” Jeongguk raised a pierced brow, his head splitting from growing pains and Hoseok’s compulsive need to fill silences. Small, velvet-covered antlers had begun to sprout from the top of his head, on time like clockwork whenever spring rolled around. “Like living with a ticking time bomb, that bear.”

“We all have our… issues,” Seokjin, believing himself to be both the most emotionally mature and self aware hybrid in the bunch, frowned at the youngest. “What’s important is that we’re lucky enough to get to work on our flaws.”

“Don’t preach to me, Seokjin. It’s impossible for you to be unbiased, and you are no shrink,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes with a smoky chuckle, leaning his forearms onto the picnic table and stubbing out his cigarette. His stomach twisted when his gaze dropped to the one of the ashtrays Y/N had thrifted for him; the one in front of him was a favorite of his, made of red crystal. “Y/N thinks you’re perfect anyways, so the point is moot with you.”

Seokjin frowned with a feline, scratchy growl, though was expecting the rebuff from the elk hybrid. He was about as dense and fond of deflection as one could be. The jaguar hybrid, with a languid swish of his tail, refilled Jeongguk’s glass of iced tea and held his tongue by biting down with his fangs. 

“You guys suck at staying on task. We were talking about Taehyung,” Hoseok hummed at the warmth of the sun washing over his face, his muscles feeling loose from his earlier morning workout. However, the corners of his mouth were turned down thanks to Jeongguk’s snark directed towards Seokjin, who didn’t deserve it. “What’s his deal?”

“What exactly do you want to unpack? His deal is blindingly clear,” Namjoon muttered to himself, still scanning the article page he was reading. 

Really, he was only half-listening to conversation, focused on researching psychic ability so he could better understand Y/N’s gifts. With their newest upcoming case, Namjoon wanted to be prepared on all fronts. He only looked up when there was silence following his comment, all of the other hybrids staring at him.

“What?”

“You can’t just say cryptic shit and expect us to understand what you mean,” Hoseok accused, sitting up on the lounge chair and pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Is that a wolf thing?”

“Having perception?” 

“The worst thing you’ve picked up these past months is sarcasm,” Hoseok deadpanned. The fox hybrid could hardly believe he was actually intimidated by Namjoon in the beginning. Living with Y/N pretty much domesticated him into a watchdog. “Care to share with the rest of the class with what needs unpacking?”

Namjoon closed Y/N’s laptop, clearing his throat lightly. While he wasn’t an egomaniac by any means, he definitely enjoyed being the only one to figure out the complicated dynamics of the house without Y/N telling him herself. His ears flattened to his head when he caught Hoseok gawking at the old scar on the left one self-consciously. Old memories resurfaced before Namjoon could stuff them down automatically, a phantom sting burning the jagged cartilage.  

“Well, it’s obvious. Taehyung’s in love with her,” Namjoon rested his chin in his palm once collecting himself, watching Jimin freeze in his tracks hosing down the patio. “Some of you must have gathered that, right?”

“No shit,” Jeongguk muttered, knowing that Taehyung’s feelings had been out loud and proud from the start. The other hybrids lounging around the patio tried to disguise their agreement with Jeongguk’s outburst, which had him shaking his head. 

“… I didn’t want to say something to rock the boat,” Jimin gestured towards Yoongi and Seokjin, both of them miraculously keeping poker faces– revealing nothing about their prior knowledge containing the contents of Y/N’s heart. “But I noticed right around October.”

“He’s had a hair across his ass because he can’t handle having a crush? That’s it?”

“Oversimplification, but sure,” Namjoon shrugged at Hoseok, using an index finger to trace around the lip of the glass of iced tea in front of him. “Jealousy is a factor, too. We all deal with envy, but he’s not very good at handling it.”

“Let me get this straight, because you were acting like you had some kind of national secret to reveal. The bear’s obvious crush on Y/N resulted in jealousy over the fact that she’s with the two big cats? Yeah?”

“Don’t start with the feline jokes, please,” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly embarrassed by the conversation. He felt like a schoolgirl discussing boys in the bathroom with her friends.

“If you’d shut your trap maybe you’d find out what ‘national secret’ was,” Namjoon snapped simultaneously, Hoseok’s throat bobbing when he swallowed back more snark. 

A wave of nausea made Seokjin shakily lower himself to a lounge chair beside Hoseok. He suspected what was coming next wasn’t something he was prepared for; Namjoon sometimes lacked tact and consideration of sensitive information. That, and Seokjin was having trouble handling the influx of hormones flooding his system; his rut was not far away at all. 

“Y/N loves Taehyung too, she has for a long time. I think their relationship has changed, and judging by body language last night, I’d say yesterday afternoon was when that happened,” Namjoon lowered his eyes to watch condensation slip down the side of his glass. A breeze rolled by, clinging around his shoulders and almost tugging him along elsewhere, somewhere he could rely on instinct again. He figured it would be cursory to add, so he added with a shrug: “She loves all of us.”

Yoongi internally groaned. Namjoon did not afford Y/N the luxury of confessing to the rest of the hybrids herself, like he had. Squeezing his eyes shut, Yoongi heard Jimin clumsily drop the hose he was using, the nozzle angled so that Seokjin was getting drenched with icy mist. Jaguar hybrid hissing, both in reaction to Namjoon’s gall and the temperature of the water, his hackles raised and muscles tensed. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk coughed, shucking off his leather jacket and getting to his feet like he had somewhere better to be. “You’re talkin’ out the side of your ass.”

Sure, Jeongguk could maybe see it. He caught the way Y/N looked at him from time to time, and even entertained some of her inelegant flirting. There were moments of weakness where the elk hybrid was struck by the girl’s strong spirit and the warmth of her smile, perhaps moving him in some way, if only for a few moments. She always seemed to relax when Jeongguk was around, which wasn’t the usual sort of effect he had on people, and he found himself craving that. However, there was a difference perceived by the elk hybrid between the love she had for the two felines and the– friendship, perhaps– she had with Jeongguk personally.

“She does–”

“No. I’d know.”

“You’ve dealt with the unseen for so long that you can’t recognize what’s right in front of your face. Be serious, Jeongguk. Think about the lengths she goes and has gone to make you happy,” Namjoon chided the younger hybrid, whose midnight eyes were so round and bulging Namjoon thought they’d pop out of his skull. “Sight aside, how’s your sense of smell? Her pheromo–”

“Don’t turn this into a case file,” Jeongguk interrupted Namjoon with a palm in the wolf hybrid’s face, preventing him from describing Y/N’s pheromones. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his chest, a sticky cold sweat coating the back of his neck. Jeongguk didn’t like the strange sensations manifesting within his body beyond his control, like a nicotine sickness, palm landing over his heart when Namjoon smacked it away. “Come on, Joon. You’re reading into things too much–” 

“She loves ‘all’ of us as in a friendly kind of way?” Hoseok sounded like he was seconds away from fainting, slumped in his lounge chair with his hand pushing through his hair absently. Even out in the open backyard, the air was thick with complicated scents: confusion, denial, shock. Nameless emotions Hoseok didn’t dare to try to label. “Cuz’ yeah, totally. Me t-too.”

“You realize how obtuse you sound, right?” Yoongi, eyes still shut, was fiddling with the angel wing earring threaded through his earlobe, his spotted tail wrapping around his hips in a subconscious attempt to soothe himself. 

There was silence for a stretch of seconds. Jimin was so taken aback that he had forgotten to turn the hose off, creating a muddy puddle in the freshly sprouted grass. While he, Hoseok, and Jeongguk sat reeling and running through past interactions with Y/N in their minds, Namjoon didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. Gritting his teeth, Yoongi pointed at the wolf hybrid angrily. 

“You shouldn’t have spoken for her. It’s not right,” Yoongi stood, turning off the hose and feeling excess adrenaline pumping through his system. He’d have to shift soon to blow off steam, and he dreaded the thought. Yoongi didn’t shift unless it was positively essential.

“Sounds like you knew something about this,” Jeongguk cocked his head, though his words came out softly.

“Of course I knew! How could I not?” Yoongi threw his hands up in the air, beyond aggravated. Effectively, his nice spring afternoon was ruined. “Honestly, I’m shocked it took this long for one of you to air her business out.”

“It’s not just her business. It’s ours too,” Namjoon pointed out, noting the rising tension in the air. Yoongi, mouth still open, deflated just an inch. While blunt about it, Namjoon was right. “So, you guys can do what you want with that information. Don’t embarrass or tease her about it though.”

“Embarrass? Why should she be embarrassed about her feelings? I thought wolves were supposed to be loyal,” Seokjin seethed, downright livid. The instinct to protect Y/N, his mate, overwhelmed every other voice of reason he had within him, and Namjoon was the threat. “And why are you so nonchalant? Do you really care so little for her?” Seokjin hardly ever raised his voice, which had Hoseok’s ears turning back nervously.

“Seokjin, don’t,” Jimin soberly grabbed a hold of the jaguar hybrid’s elbow before he could launch himself at Namjoon, who appeared stunned by the accusations being flung his way. Jimin knew enough about wolves to try his hardest to diffuse tension before violence ensued; Seokjin shot a seriously poisoned arrow by questioning Namjoon’s devotion to Y/N. “Take a breath, alright?”

“Don’t you dare accuse me of not caring for her,” Namjoon’s jaw tensed, his old mental steel walls promptly going up around him. It would take many hours of turning it over in his mind later that evening, but the loyalty comment Seokjin made that should have had him reacting in a blind fury, did not. “This is me caring. The longer she attempts to keep how she feels to herself, the worse her guilt will get. I don’t know why that’s a hard concept to grasp.”

Jimin gawked at Namjoon in total bewilderment, faced with the reality that some individuals could view life so stoically. The coyote hybrid had begun to form somewhat of a bond with Namjoon, coming from similar areas in the country, familiar with wildlife, and being rough around the edges. However, Jimin hadn’t truly observed just how removed Namjoon truly was; the wolf hybrid, at the end of the day, valued logic and the truth over feelings and attachments. Jimin couldn’t fathom separating his heart from his truth.

“So you’re sparing her of guilt? Noble,” Seokjin’s neck was tense, everything spiraling out of control. A part of him was desperately screaming at him to clean up the mess, but the animalistic hormones fueling his upcoming rut wanted to pick a fight.

Namjoon elected to clam up. It occurred to the wolf hybrid that there would be no suitable response he could come up with that would satisfy Seokjin’s outrage. In truth, a weight had lifted from Namjoon’s chest, even if it came with somewhat of a desire to repent. He felt there was an elephant in the room for weeks, especially after the winter holidays, and nobody was being honest with themselves. He included his own person in that group. 

Namjoon watched Y/N choke on three words she wished to speak freely for months. Observing from both afar and more closely than with anyone else, Namjoon got to know how the girl’s brain worked. Once noticing the signs, recognizing her unique scents, and even tracking the rate of her heartbeat off and on, there was no denying that she hadn’t just fallen in love with two hybrids, but all seven. 

Y/N aside, Namjoon could pinpoint Taehyung’s affection peaking the first night the Kodiak hybrid scented her, the regrettable evening Namjoon spoiled with his unchecked rage. Prior to that, in the very beginning, Yoongi reeked of pining and hidden secrets. The leopard hybrid was not entirely subtle when he was sneaking around with Y/N, the smell of her smacking Namjoon in the face one afternoon as he entered the kitchen Yoongi was lingering in; the concentration of her scent smothering the older hybrid’s neck and mouth. 

Seokjin might as well have taken an advertisement out in the newspaper about how much he loved Y/N. It was no great revelation to anyone when the two fell for each other. Meanwhile, Jimin was starting to emulate Seokjin’s behavior, unbeknownst to himself, of course. Hoseok and Jeongguk could live in oblivion as much as they’d like as well, but Namjoon knew they shared similar fates to everyone else. Namjoon, however, didn’t know how to sort out where he stood.

Namjoon, as perceptive as he was, grappled with working out exactly how the relationships worked and would work in the future. He didn’t know what to do with feelings that didn’t fall neatly into dedicated categories, and in consequence, he avoided them. That aside, he was a wolf hybrid, a creature that valued only one other more highly than himself. Personal relationships were no trivial matter to him. So really, was Namjoon really being honest with himself?

“Cut him a break. I can smell smoke coming off of him,” Jimin murmured distantly with both of his ears flattened, Namjoon’s vision clearing when the coyote hybrid slowly released Seokjin’s elbow. 

Seokjin remained coiled, though the empathetic side to him was squashing down his bloodthirst when he truly looked at Namjoon. The wolf hybrid was definitely confused, lost in his thoughts, and Seokjin had seen that expression before in a different context. It was the expression Namjoon made at the library when he tried to absorb another person’s interpretation of that week’s book club selection, perhaps an interpretation he struggled to agree with. 

“What happens now?” Jimin spoke again, completely forgetting about his plans for the rest of the day. With the way everyone was acting, Y/N would spot something amiss as soon as she got back from her errands.

“What do you mean? If Namjoon doesn’t tell her what happened, I’ll bet you five bucks she’ll figure it out herself by the end of the night,” Yoongi groaned, collapsing on the picnic bench where Jeongguk once sat. He wasn’t in the mood to problem-solve, nor could he begin to think about potential fires to put out later. “And then it all goes to shit.”

“What’s going to shit?”

 The kitchen slider had been left open to bring fresh air into the old house, and it was where Y/N stood still in her windbreaker with her eyebrows knitted. Yoongi, miraculously, went from despairing, to elated, and then back to uneasy in a matter of nanoseconds with the sight of her standing there. It was some kind of brand-new patched-together sensation making his head spin.

Y/N, on the other hand, was delighted to see all of her hybrids (minus Taehyung) spending time together on the patio when she got home. However, as soon as she threw her keys onto the kitchen island and got closer to where they all were, she paused. It appeared they were all in the middle of a very serious discussion, not a single one of them detecting her arrival even with their sensitive hearing. Y/N didn’t think much of it– for all she knew, they were talking about the regrettable outcome of a recent NBA playoff game. 

It was when she inched towards the open slider when she caught the tail-end of whatever Yoongi was lamenting about, his long hair in his face and shoulders slumped. With a swift glance around the patio, she had to bite her lip when she interrupted verbally, because as soon as she did, a series of choked animalistic sounds broke out. That reaction to her surprise entry could only mean one of two things: they did something they didn’t want her to find out about (such as the time Hoseok and Yoongi broke a birdbath playing basketball in the driveway) or they were talking about her. She preferred the former to the latter. 

“W-when did you get back?” Yoongi’s neck was craned at an odd angle, his knuckles bone white as he gripped the wooden picnic table. Y/N cringed at the sound of his fingernails scraping wood shavings from the poor slab of oak. 

“Nice to see you too–” Y/N began, though was cut off by a pitchy outburst from Hoseok.

“OH! It’s already 3? I’m late for my distance run… be back… dinner…” Hoseok sprung up from his lounge chair like his russet tail was aflame, muttering nonsensically while producing headphones from his sweats pocket and darting towards the back of the property. Which wasn’t exactly unusual for Hoseok, but it had Y/N’s suspicion growing.   

“What’s broken? If it's anything involving stained glass, don’t sweat it, there’s an auction at the end of the month–” Y/N raised her voice steadily as Hoseok ran away, pretending he couldn’t hear her at all. His headphones were plugged into his human set of ears, but the fox hybrid ones could register her loud and clear.

Y/N nodded nonchalantly, the weight of the bag slung over her shoulder making her grunt. With the way she was being gaped at with five pairs of wide, moony eyes, one would think she had adopted a handful of Great Horned Owl hybrids.

“Okay.”

With a smack of her lips, she backtracked into the kitchen, hoping that the frozen treats she picked up at the supermarket hadn’t melted too much. After months of spending time with her hybrids, it had become second nature for her to simply go about her business and do less prodding– or nagging, she feared secretly. Besides, trying to take the driver’s seat when animalistic tensions seemed high typically did nothing but agitate six predators and an equally domineering elk hybrid.

The tap running, Y/N filled a glass and peered over the rim of it, expecting the sight she had only turned away from for a moment: with her interruption of whatever meeting the lot of them were having, her presence caused them to disperse and scatter in the blink of an eye. The only con of having such a large lot of land meant that each of her hybrids had spots to hide themselves away, and it would be no easy feat to round them all up again considering the atmosphere. 

There was no way there was any kind of broken vase or glass panel, not with the swiftness of each hybrid’s disappearance. Either they blew up the garage by accident, or they really were talking about her and she happened to catch them in the act. Tossing a box of mango popsicles– Hoseok’s favorites– into the freezer, she shut the door with her foot and a cuss. Taking a moment, her stomach started to ache as she came up with a laundry list of potential ‘discussion topics’ all seven hybrid hybrids could talk about together, topics that would result in such a charged atmosphere. 

Something told her that she should start thinking about Yoongi’s warning from months prior. There was a floating timer above her head counting down the days where she could no longer hide how she felt. Over coffee that very morning, she felt Namjoon’s weighty gaze on her as soon as Taehyung sat beside her genially, and that is when she was first reminded of Yoongi’s words. It was like Namjoon was trying to figure out whether or not things had changed between her and Taehyung since the night she spent with Namjoon in the van. Namjoon could see through her, Y/N knew that. Just how clearly is what worried her. Would he say something, or nothing at all? 

Setting the glass of water down noisily, she felt a throb wrapping around her skull– she was tired of walking on eggshells. Lying awake in bed at night, wondering if she had been too obvious, too forward. Agonizing over potential rejection. Picturing how the future could look. Trying to get inside the other’s minds, what were they thinking? Did they know? Did they feel the same?

It got to a point, at that very second, where she began to raise her metaphorical white flag once and for all. Being passive was making her neurotic, which was noticeably causing concern for Yoongi and Seokjin. She couldn’t even imagine how the other boys felt.  

Y/N was prepared to break the news about her and Taehyung as soon as he got back from the rec center, as the two of them discussed that morning. It was the third time she’d be in that particular position, and with a humorless snort, Y/N realized how difficult she was making life. Her boys were no fools, and with a third confession, a pattern would be made.

 Risking rejection was the final obstacle she had to beat down with an iron fist. 

If her heart claimed that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her hybrids, being honest had to be priority. Instead of the usual jittery butterflies swarming in her gut, Y/N had a sense of calmness wash over her. Overthinking for months caused nothing but an echo chamber of doubts. Grinding the ball of her foot into the tiled floor, she hastily put the rest of the groceries away and shoved her shoes back on. Perhaps it was slightly unproductive in the eyes of others, but she made up her mind to sit on the porch and wait for Taehyung’s return from the rec center just to get his two cents– again. 

It was a gorgeous day, despite what she walked into, and there wasn’t much that could ruin her hopeful mood. It was the kind of day that Y/N could picture plenty more of, with clear blue-bottle skies, rain-soaked asphalt and melodies of songbirds collecting nesting material in the air. Spring was the season of hope in her eyes, and the very first one spent with her hybrids as the family they became to her. 

Leaning back on her palms, Y/N let herself study the paint chipping on the banisters wrapping around the house’s great porch. The wind, ice, and snow were unkind to the old Victorian that year. Her imagination took her to a memory she hadn’t created yet: her seven hybrids and herself, on a day just like that one, painting the porch in odd colors and enjoying the newness of the season. 

Crunching gravel had her eyes sliding away from the wraparound porch, leaning forward on the top step to peer right, where the detached garage sat in the middle distance. In her grandfather’s old jalopy that was kindly gifted to Y/N for Christmas, Taehyung was gingerly pulling into the spot beside the other vehicle in the drive. Even just catching the smallest glimpse of the Kodiak hybrid, mostly the mass of dark curls crowning the top of his head, was enough to make her heart race. With the length his hair was getting to be, he often had to shake the curls out of his eyes. 

 Not knowing whether or not he saw her before pulling in, Y/N held her breath and watched him exit the car. Her grandfather’s old car, a Lincoln Continental from 196X, was an old, large sedan in a buttery yellow color. Jeongguk often called it a boat, due to the sheer clunkiness of the all-metal frame and enormous trunk hanging off the back. However, the car might as well have been dwarfing Taehyung in size, in fact, the vehicle bounced somewhat when Taehyung swung the weight of his legs out of the cab. 

Was it slightly voyeuristic to gawk so blatantly at someone? Y/N, with minor shame, felt her mouth dry up when Taehyung finally straightened up to sling his camera bag over his shoulder. Her beady eyes zeroed in on the thickness of his arms as he began to lock up the car, though the blue flannel he was wearing over his tee-shirt blocked any whisper of skin she could greedily soak up visually. That was typical of Taehyung, however. He tended to dress in many layers, and even wore beanies that hid his ears frequently. It was definitely just what he was used to– Alaska, his birthplace, was a cold environment, and old habits die hard. 

The Kodiak hybrid paused, as if picking up on the leering eye on him, only to have his lower lip jutting out suddenly and scrambling for something in his pocket. With a hand pressed over her mouth to smother giggles, Y/N watched Taehyung set his equipment down, manually unlock the car, and dig through the backseat for an object. He wasn’t trying to be cute, he just was, and his little grunts of frustration made her laugh silently to herself. As noiselessly as she could, Y/N inched down the porch steps, following the skipping stone path across the front yard so she could perhaps give Taehyung a surprise greeting.

“Welcome back!” Y/N was standing on the opposite side of the car that Taehyung was still leaning into, her voice startling him so much that he smacked his head into the roof of the cab trying to straighten back up. “Oh no!”

Y/N felt instant regret for sneaking up on the poor hybrid, a wide palm clutching the top of his skull as he managed to clumsily pull himself out of the backseat, a CD in his hand. Rushing over to him, Y/N could only describe the action as quite Namjoon-like. Reaching up, she placed a hand over his, still massaging the spot between his rounded ears. 

“I’m so sorry, there’s no blood, right? Did that hurt really bad?” Y/N chewed on her lip, focused on his glossy curls and any sign of something amiss. She did not catch the dopey smile that turned Taehyung’s face into a picture of happiness. 

“Don’t be silly,” Taehyung regained (somewhat) his ability to move normally, rotating his wrist above his head to collect Y/N’s hand. “It would take a lot more than that to cause any real damage.”

“I guess…” Y/N was self-admittedly being fussy on purpose, finally absorbing the Kodiak hybrid’s expression. The smile stretching widely across his face was all it took to convince her he was fine. In direct sunlight, the reddish hue to his brown eyes was striking and otherworldly. “Take any good shots today?”

Taehyung hummed through a closed mouth, putting her question on hold for a moment so he could get a better look at her. Tugging her closer with the grip on her hand, he looped her arm around his lower back, curling his spine inwards so he could nestle his face between her neck and shoulder. Taehyung couldn’t get enough physical affection those days, his chest light and fluttery when he felt Y/N fold herself perfectly into his arms. In a way, it had him feeling safe and small, Y/N’s fingertips tracing patterns over his lower back– a sort of habit she had whenever she was embracing someone.

“No shoots today. Since the spring quarter started, the club leaders are introducing the two themes we’re going to focus on.”

Taehyung mumbled his reply into the fabric of Y/N’s light windbreaker, lips pressed to the material. Cheeks warm, Taehyung held back how badly he wanted to tell her how amazing she smelled, squirming when her hand smoothed up his spine and buried into the curls on his nape. It was agony when he let her go, noting with regret that Y/N appeared to be catching her breath due to the way he had squeezed her perhaps a bit too tightly. 

“So,” Y/N swallowed, finding herself basking under Taehyung’s intensity rather than shrinking away from it. “Are you gonna tell me what the themes are?”

“Mm, yeah, later. I’ll show you the examples they gave us,” Taehyung pinched the apple of her cheek, rounded from the smile she was offering him. Truthfully, Taehyung was eager to slide seamlessly into his new role– a boyfriend– but there was the matter of everyone else he and Y/N had to break that news to before he could do that. “Did you think about what we talked about yesterday, Y/N?”

Contrary to what he expected– her smile dissolving with the change of subject– Y/N’s grin only grew, bending to pluck up one of his camera bags. While slinging it over her shoulder, she offered her hand to Taehyung again, the hybrid unable to resist a request for prolonged contact. Carefully, remembering to keep his excitement in check that time, Taehyung slotted their fingers together and matched her pace heading to the front door. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna take your advice. Though,” Y/N paused on one of the porch steps, placing her index finger over her lower lip thoughtfully. Two steps before Taehyung, the gap allowed her to be eye-level with him. “I’m having a hard time remembering your exact wording.”

“Is my wording so important?” Taehyung cocked his head, taking an easy inhale. It was faint, but he could detect minor traces of each of his housemates hiding away in pockets of the backyard. Even though the scents were hardly there, Taehyung sensed a subtle stir of emotions coloring them. “Y/N. I think your psychic ability is rubbing off on me…”

“What? You know what? Table that for a second,” Y/N spluttered, Taehyung scrunching his nose up in mirth while shaking curls out of his face. “Not that I’m disagreeing with you, we’ll circle back to that. Yeah, your wording was important, Tae, because your specific words encouraged me.”

“Alright then, sit with me for a second,” Taehyung ascended the steps between the two of them, using light pressure on Y/N’s lower back to guide her to the porch swing overlooking the front yard. Obediently, to Taehyung’s glee, Y/N easily plopped down beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest. He was starting to understand what love songs were all about, lately, getting to have the one he adored so close. “I didn’t think what I said carried much weight.”

“Well it did. You told me to say something like “send it”, right? Something adjacent to that at least?” Y/N was studying her kneecaps beneath the cornflower blue tights she was wearing. Frowning suddenly, she glanced at Taehyung from the corner of her eye. “Also, what do you mean? I take everything you say seriously. Don’t do that.”

“That?”

“That as in don’t assume that I’m not listening to what you have to say, love,” Y/N clarified, Taehyung’s heavy arm draping around her shoulders protectively. A noisy car drove by, and although the house was situated decently far from the street, Taehyung’s hybrid instincts were still on alert. 

“I don’t know. You were pretty preoccupied yesterday when we talked, Y/N,” Taehyung teased, using the pads of his fingertips to flatten wrinkles on Y/N’s windbreaker. 

“That’s because you were eating my face. Poor example of my stellar listening skills,” Y/N whispered, face hot. Taehyung ducked his head with a smirk, ending up in the crook of her neck again. The sensation of his lips bending into a full-on grin at her whining against her neck had her leaning into his side eagerly. 

“Try to remember.”

“I’m not remembering anything with you all over me like this.”

Taehyung laughed, the sound coming from deep within his belly. It was like his afternoon iced coffee had been spiked with adrenaline, turning him giddy and spontaneous. Instead of easing off of her, Taehyung dug through the pocket of his jeans, successfully pulling his phone free. Trying to preserve the element of surprise, Taehyung swiftly opened the camera app, pressing his lips to Y/N’s cheek firmly as the shutter went off. 

“Tae! Give a girl a warning,” Y/N complained, flustered as Taehyung admired the slightly-blurry selfie, automatically tapping a flurry of buttons to set the picture as his lock screen. “You can’t even see your face that well…”

“It’s not my face I want to look at. I like your outfit, too, good colors for pictures,” Taehyung parried, emphasizing his point with another kiss on her cheekbone. “Oh! I made this for you.”

Y/N detected a whimsical, floaty note in Taehyung’s typically husky tone as he offered her the unmarked CD, pouting almost imperceptibly. The expression he wore tugged at her heartstrings, eyes sparkling and all, and Y/N was helpless to not to fall for it hard. He was teasing her, distracting her with affection, perhaps to savor a shred of alone time before things potentially got sticky again. 

“Yeah? I was told I looked like a gogo girl this morning,” Y/N smirked while accepting the CD with a hot, flustered face. A dark and rolling rumble coming from Taehyung’s chest threatened to tear through the willow trees shrouding the front yard. 

“Jerk.”

“I didn’t even mention his name. Maybe you are becoming psychic, my love,” Y/N snickered, reaching up to tuck hair behind her Kodiak hybrid’s ears. She wanted to look at his face as much as he seemed to want to capture hers. “What’s so bad about a gogo girl? It might have even been a compliment.”

“Jeongguk doesn’t know how to give compliments.”

“Did you make me a mixtape?”

“Uh-huh.”

“God, I love you. I’m going to listen to it before bed. Thank you,” Y/N put the CD to the side, moving to cradle his face in both hands, her knees falling to the side and onto his lap. Taehyung had a habit of melting into her touch, and the action had him forgetting all about Jeongguk, especially when she squeezed his cheeks gently with a coo. “Can you give me that pep talk one more time?”

Taehyung’s eyelashes fluttered, arching a brow. The headband Y/N wore matched her tights, one of his hands around her ankle, the Kodiak hybrid feeling stiffness there likely from the impractical heels she wore on her errands. The cut on her shin she got the previous day had been properly bandaged, visible beneath the tights.

“Okay, let me rewind the tape.”

“Huh?” Y/N blinked, still holding his face, and Taehyung only leaned forward a few inches to kiss the corner of her mouth gently. Y/N understood what he meant right after he kissed her again, that time square on the mouth, mimicking the force he had used nearly 24 hours prior in the guest house. “Mmm–”

Kissing Taehyung was still brand new, distracting, and had her clutching onto his lovely face for dear life. The underlying urgency was not as strong compared to their first kiss, but it was enough to clear coherent thought from her mind. Taehyung must have stopped for coffee on the way back from his club, because his mouth tasted like the sweet mocha drinks he cared for. Before anything could escalate though, the hybrid retreated with an animalistic grumble, his cheeks nestled securely in Y/N’s palms. Moving and speaking as slowly as he always did, Taehyung’s grip went from her ankle to around one of her wrists. 

“You’re thinking about it too much,” Taehyung murmured, beginning to repeat the “pep talk” Y/N requested from him. Taehyung felt his spine tingling when Y/N didn’t flinch away from his unwavering eye-contact. “You know what I think you should do? Just come out and say what’s on your mind. You’ve done it before.”

“I’m still–”

“I know, scared,” the corner of Taehyung’s mouth tugged upwards, pressing his forehead to Y/N’s. The pill that was jealousy was sweeter to swallow when Taehyung was actually able to help Y/N, to perhaps repay her in some small way for the past many months. “Trust me?”

Taehyung was aware that she trusted him without a doubt. Her pulse remained steady as they gazed at each other, Y/N just as spellbound by him as she was the first time she ever laid eyes on him in Gerry’s shelter. Heat crept up the back of her neck when Taehyung’s smirk grew wry. With one more chapped-lipped kiss, Taehyung whispered the words that she needed to hear. 

“Just bite the bullet, baby.”

It came as no surprise that the only ones who weren’t “busy” that night were Taehyung and her two feline hybrids. Various excuses were made over text, such as the sun being up for longer– Jimin and Hoseok claiming to be working on the garden– and predictably, the van was occupied by her final two hybrids researching their latest case.

“It’s almost dinner, I don’t get it. Usually everyone’s in by now. You know, heeding Ben’s advice to stay close to the house for safety,” Y/N was trying to figure out when she could slither under the breakfast nook to make a beeline outside, considering both exits of the booth were blocked by Seokjin on one of her sides, Taehyung on the other.

A whistling kettle was on the stove, Yoongi sorting through bags of tea. His hair was tied up and he was being very quiet, which had her twitching in her seat. Sure, she had told Seokjin and Yoongi about Taehyung, but clearly he wasn’t the issue considering Seokjin had been talking the Kodiak hybrid’s ears off for thirty minutes. Seokjin’s incessant babbling was the second red flag. 

“Fashion photography is one of your new themes? Won’t that be a hard subject to do? Are you supposed to go to fashion shows, or do you take pictures of streetwear?” Seokjin was making quite the effort to keep up a lively conversation, even though Taehyung spoke so slowly that he was hardly finished answering one question before another was asked. 

Y/N, as intrigued as she was about Taehyung’s upcoming projects, was with Jeongguk on one thing; she didn’t like to be ignored purposefully. 

“Can one of you scooch so I can get them?” Y/N tickled Seokjin’s ribs to get him to stop talking, his delighted giggles letting Taehyung off the hook. The Kodiak hybrid took a deep breath and a swig of his red wine, but made no move for Y/N to free herself. “Or you can just tell me what’s up, if neither of you wanna move.”

Seokjin’s giggles petered out, his orange eyes turning molten, and Y/N waited for the guilty twist to his mouth appear. When it did, Y/N gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and the pursed twist to his lips turned into a pained grimace. 

“Yoongi, care to cut the shit? What happened?”

Y/N stopped touching Seokjin abruptly, afraid that perhaps he was getting annoyed with her poking and prodding. The fear quickly went away when Seokjin’s chin hooked over her shoulder, purring softly, and one of his arms wrapped around her lower back when he realized one of Taehyung’s was slung across the booth behind Y/N. 

“You forgot to take your vitamins this morning,” Yoongi set down a glass of water while taking a seat beside Seokjin. 

Four pairs of eyes watched as Yoongi slid the bottle of pills towards Y/N, who instantly wanted to slam her face into the table. The ginormous bottle, with bold red lettering, read HORMONAL SUPPLEMENTS - HUMAN USE FOR HYBRID MATING CYCLE. Mortification colored her skin, aware that all three of the hybrids knew what they were for after reading the smaller text beneath the red lettering, Seokjin’s heavy weight on her nearly smothering. 

“Oh. Thanks,” Y/N squeaked, awkwardly fumbling with the bottle and hiding it under the table, Yoongi clearing his throat while Y/N choked back two of the horse-sized pills. Y/N had only been taking them for just shy of a week, so she didn’t feel too different– aside from getting sweaty in the night, that was. “I really hope the fact that I didn’t take my vitamins this morning was not the topic of conversation most of the day.”

“Absolutely not,” Seokjin’s back straightened out with a hiss, just as horrified as she was. Seokjin took her personal privacy very seriously. “I mean, everyone knows you’re taking them but–”

“Christ, I thought I hid the bottle well enough,” Y/N muttered, mostly to herself. It was one thing to discuss something like that with Seokjin and Yoongi in broad daylight, but she and Taehyung hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss intimacy yet. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but Taehyung was busy audibly gulping down wine with an iron grip on his glass. 

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if you hide that bottle on the roof, taking the pills changes your scent after only a few days,” Yoongi smiled despite himself, even though the thought of Seokjin spending his rut with Y/N had him nearly spontaneously shifting in the middle of the kitchen. He liked Seokjin, but even Yoongi could get jealous. “We’re all aware of it.”

“Oh my god, so if that’s not it, then what is going on? Did you blow up the garage, like I thought earlier?” Y/N groaned, head falling backwards onto Taehyung’s bicep. It made for a nice pillow, actually. 

“They know.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that, angel. I smell different,” Y/N grouched, and because she wasn’t a hybrid, she missed the unsaid. So much for being psychic. 

“No, Y/N, they all know.”

Y/N, who had her eyes shut and one thumb prodding at the headache beneath her left eyebrow, peeled one lid open at Yoongi’s reiterance. The leopard hybrid was staring right at Taehyung, though without any malice, rather neutrally, with his chin in his hands. Though it took everything in him, Seokjin kept his posture loose rather than locking up and alarming Y/N. Sitting up, Y/N looked between Yoongi and Taehyung, the vitamins turning her stomach sour. 

“They know about Y/N and I?” Taehyung’s lips were a deep mauve from the wine he was drinking, though he didn’t seem too surprised. Y/N should have guessed, Taehyung was sniffing the air like a canine hybrid in the driveway. That’s what he meant about believing he was developing psychic ability. She would have laughed, had she not been trying to push him out of the booth. “Oof. Hang on, Y/N–”

Taehyung didn’t budge thanks to his mass, but Y/N predicted that. Trying to be sly, and wanting to drag the remaining four of her hybrids into the house by their tails, Y/N began to go boneless so she could slide under the table. Unfortunately, Seokjin caught her by the elbow and hauled her back onto her ass. 

“Am I being quarantined?” Y/N joked flatly, aggravated that the three of them were ignoring her concern for the others outside. For all they knew, Harold Bass and his henchmen could have them in a horse trailer. “It’s fine that they found out, I was just gonna come clean about being in love with all of you anyways, so this can be avoided again in the future.”

“Okay. Wow.” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, shocked and proud that she had grown such confidence in just a few hours. He forgot all about the mug of peppermint tea he brewed himself, steaming the lower half of his face as he held the beverage mid air. “That’s good. That solves the issue from earlier.”

“Yeah? The elusive issue–”

“Namjoon ratted you out,” Yoongi blurted, physically incapable from withholding truth from Y/N, at that point in his life. It was a reflex, his spotted tail once again securely winding around his waist, drinking in Y/N’s confused expression. His heart skipped a beat. “He told everyone how you feel.”

Yoongi promised himself he’d never lie to Y/N again, after he confessed his love the previous winter, and he wasn’t breaking that promise ever, even if telling the truth hurt her. Seokjin, on the other hand, swore lowly, gracefully bending his leg and using his foot to shove Yoongi straight off the bench and onto the floor. 

“Seokjin!” Y/N’s jaw fell open without registering Yoongi’s words completely, the way she cried out his name filling Seokjin with instant regret.

Taehyung finally moved in order to let Y/N scramble to the leopard hybrid, sprawled onto the tile floor with his mug of tea somehow remaining on the table unscathed. He appeared to be just fine despite the tumble, leaning on his forearms, but his chest rose and fell like the wind was knocked out of him. Y/N frantically grasped his hands, supporting his weight by pulling his upper half into her lap. Simply snickering at Seokjin, the jaguar hybrid’s hackles raised and incisors on display, Yoongi started talking before Y/N could scold the eldest. 

“I always knew you could kick the crap out of me. You don’t realize how strong an acrobat can be until you’re on your ass,” Yoongi wheezed, letting Y/N help him up with an arm around his waist once his breath returned. Yoongi couldn’t really fault Seokjin, either– the jaguar hybrid’s impending rut had testosterone pumping through him with ferocity that the eldest usually didn’t possess. “Namjoon figured out how you feel about everybody, Y/N.”

It was the first time that day that Y/N felt her confidence wane once she truly understood what Yoongi had been trying to say. Certainly, she had a suspicion that Namjoon was beginning to catch on, but she never imagined he’d divulge what he found out to anyone else, due to his private nature. Taehyung snickered humorlessly– so much for Namjoon endearing himself to others. 

“And he announced that to everyone out of the blue?” Y/N asked, pulling on the hem of her black dress. Her mind pictured the next time she’d be at work with Namjoon and Jeongguk, with the two hybrids having the knowledge she was dead in love with them. She swallowed that down as quickly as she could. “I know how Joonie thinks. He probably was just trying to help me.”

Y/N believed that, but she still wished he hadn’t done what he did. Quite literally, had he waited one more day, she could have told the truth herself. The three hybrids in the kitchen said nothing, only the sounds of Yoongi catching his breath and the jazz music playing over the speakers filled the room while Y/N sorted out her thoughts. 

She took a moment to study the three in front of her, the lines of their faces familiar as her own looking back in a mirror. All of them were waiting for her to say something else, the tails of the felines curling to and fro cautiously, and Taehyung was leaning against the slider door to the backyard while his teeth clacked together noisily, as if to guard it from an additional individual interrupting. Apparently, teeth-clacking was common for an agitated bear, according to her latest research on Taehyung.

“I’m guessing they need space from me then,” Y/N began, though not from a place of self-pity. The last thing she wanted was to corner any of them against their will. “But… I just want them to come inside for the night, that’s all.”

“You’re not pissed at Namjoon? Not even a little?” Yoongi, still winded, asked with bewilderment. Y/N wrung her hands together. 

“No. He knows me as well as I know him. Like I said, he was trying to help in his own way.”

“Wolves,” Taehyung glanced out the window, towards the direction of the driveway and the camper van, the word like a drop of venom on his tongue. Tough to compete with, he wanted to add. 

“It could be argued that he did the right thing. We’re talking in circles, here. Can one of you use that top-secret group chat of yours to get them to come in?” 

The three hybrids had embarrassment painted clear as day across their faces as she spoke. Y/N was still bitter they all had one without her, but that wasn’t the pressing issue at the present. Seokjin, with reluctance, began to tap out a message on his phone. 

“I feel like dinner together could be really awkward. It’s pizza night anyways though, and we usually eat in front of the TV when it gets here.”

“Were you picturing the Last Supper?” Yoongi joked, sensing that Y/N was trying to go for a lighthearted approach (sticking to routines) rather than having a solemn dinner over bleeding hearts (dusting off the rarely-used dining room table for the evening meal). 

“Just a bit, angel. Stop reading my mind,” Y/N joked back, basking in the sweet brief moment.

“You’re still coming clean, though, right?” Taehyung felt a flurry of text messages vibrating against his rear, in his pocket. He didn’t want to press Y/N, but he sensed her faltering confidence and felt sorry for her. “You shouldn’t have to make some kind of tactical plan just because Namjoon threw a wrench into your original one.”

“You guys forget, I take note of your behavior just as much as you watch mine. I’m 100% positive none of the others will come inside until I go on with my nightly routine like nothing happened. As far as they know, I’m oblivious,” Y/N was giving Yoongi soothing strokes along his back, the hybrid probably annoyed she hadn’t chewed out Seokjin for shoving him, though he gave no indication of that. 

She let them mull over that, Y/N ignoring the pinging of their phones by ordering a boatload of pizza for dinner on her own device, coaxing Yoongi onto a barstool all the while. He was more pliable than normal, probably from the amount of both basketball coaching and playing he had done recently, so his bones were jelly when Y/N eased him down. 

“They’re coming in,” Seokjin murmured, agitated that he couldn’t keep the growly grit from his voice. Hormones and instinct were driving his actions and him insane, which had him fearful for his rut– what if he hurt Y/N? It was an unbearable thought. 

“Finally,” Y/N exclaimed, borderline exasperated. As long as they were safe in the house, she could handle whatever theatrics that came next. “Uh… guess I’ll shower and change. That’s usually what I do around this time, anyways. We’ll go from there?”

“And what do we do?” Yoongi’s lower lip was pouty, Y/N giving his temple a soft kiss to ease his mind. “Act natural?”

“It makes sense to stick to our normal routines, like Y/N,” Taehyung volunteered helpfully, mentally already making a break for his darkroom. At least, until Y/N was by his side again later that night, with the cards on the table for everyone to see.

“Yeah. If they’re wondering where I am, they’ll see my door will be open– after my shower, of course,” Y/N started to make her way to the foyer, once again feeling odd that she was telling grown men what to do. That, and Seokjin looked like he was about to land a plane with the possibility of anyone going into her room while she bathed. “Usually Namjoon comes to get me when dinner is ready, so I’ll expect that… Other than that, I think all we can do is see how things play out.”

The three hybrids were nervous and dreading her departure from them, Y/N could ascertain simply from the whiny sighing filling the room. There was nothing she wanted more than to let each of them dogpile on top of her after a long, emotionally bizarre day. She had learned enough about hybrids, however, to put together that the other four would go nowhere near her for the rest of the evening if she indulged in that desire. Territorial lines she could not see had been drawn, and it was up to her to try and keep things as fair as she could when it came to individual attention. 

“Hey. I love you guys more than anything,” Y/N paused before she reached the foyer, rubbing one of her arms sheepishly. She never felt like she could say that enough to them. Her heart squeezed when the sentiment was swiftly returned by all three without a beat. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you can relax.”

Taehyung had shuffled his way towards her, en route to the second floor, but not without ducking to plant a smooch to the top of her head. Taehyung’s serious expression was softened by the blush on his cheeks, shoving his hands into his pockets and hurrying to the stairs. The feline hybrids were placated somewhat, but still had cautious flicks to their silky tails. Before she turned into the hallway, she made one last remark that would appeal to their good-humored sides.

“Oh! It’s my turn to pick the movie tonight. No way am I sacrificing that to anybody else, so save me a seat. And don’t kick Yoongi onto his ass again, Seokjin.”

Feral purring erupted from the kitchen (as well as a hiss from Seokjin), making her giggle down the dimly lit hallway as she pictured Yoongi and Seokjin scrambling into the parlor to make things comfortable. Routines were huge for hybrids, and in the times of uncertainty they were experiencing, daily routines spent together were like bread and butter. 

As soon as her pajamas were on, Y/N flung her bedroom door open. She considered opening it slowly just in case Namjoon was lurking behind it, but the slab of wood groaned so loudly on its iron hinges that she just wanted to rip the bandage off sonically speaking. No one was waiting there behind the door, Y/N giving the dusty grandfather clock in the hallway a beady-eyed stare. 

“Cool,” Y/N mumbled, turning to the silver mirror affixed to her altar instead of standing in the threshold like a hunched-over cryptid. 

As the worn sleeve of tee-shirt she selected as a pajama top slipped over her shoulder limply, she started to second guess the outfit choice. There was always that stupid nagging voice in her head telling her not to “try too hard”. When she made a full circle in front of the mirror, it was hard not to nitpick her appearance, especially when she knew she was going to be in a room with seven hybrids she wanted to look… nice for. Shaking her head, her eyes dropped down to her altar. 

Since picking her practice back up, what was once a dumping ground for junk, her vanity was where she did a majority of her spellwork and divination. An old roll of violet velvet she unearthed from the basement made for a nice altar cloth, and all of the items placed on top held special meaning to her. With a hum and a strike of a long match, Y/N re-lit the candles on the altar, though held off on the incense with her hybrid’s noses in mind. Her elk hybrid in particular had a disdain for strong smells, which was ironic for a pack-a-day smoker. 

The candlelight cast a romantic glow over the polished crystals she had on display; Namjoon’s moonstone front and center. On a whim, she plucked up her Tarot deck, shuffling overhand while matching the motion to the pace of her breath. After a series of passes, a single card fluttered away from the rest of the deck, landing beside an old iron bell used for sound cleansing: The Wheel of Fortune. 

“Destiny changing before my eyes. Well I don’t need clarification cards for that,” Y/N set the cards down, inwardly chuckling at the straightforward answers that particular deck always seemed to give her. 

Frayed and more fabric than paper, the cards once belonged to her mother. The images consisted of whimsical mystical creatures– sirens, unicorns, fae– and pastel watercolors suggesting the deck might have belonged to a teenaged version of her mother. While straightforward, that particular deck wasn’t quite as blunt as Namjoon’s deck she gifted him for his birthday. Practicing Tarot with him was a new favorite pastime of hers, in Judy’s cozy shop when the afternoons were slow. 

“Hey,” two sharp knocks against her door and an equally jagged voice made her cuss and bump a knee into her vanity stool. Jeongguk, dressed in acid-washed jeans and a baggy dark grey shirt, stood in the door with a neutral expression on his face. “Pizza’s here.”

Y/N gawked at the elk hybrid like he caught her doing something incriminating, rubbing her sore knee absently and analyzing the hybrid’s posture. Jeongguk always had confident posture, and yes, his rolled-back shoulders and jutting forward hips proved that when he stared right back at her. His thumbs hooked through his belt loops, the hem of his tee shirt cropped roughly to skim the waistband of his boxers. The back of Y/N’s neck spiked an instant fever. 

“I didn’t even hear Tony’s usual honking. Did someone run down the block to catch the van before he turned down the street?” Y/N recovered, placing a shaky hand onto her altar for stability. Her molars ground together when her iron bell toppled over with a clunk. 

To her surprise, the always-wordy Jeongguk just shrugged, taking a few heavy steps into her bedroom. Y/N could count on one hand how often Jeongguk had ever spent time in her bedroom. If he wanted to talk to her, it was usually in a commonly shared space. Y/N took a breath while Jeongguk was turned away, taking stock of the odds and ends clumped around the space. 

There was an opportunity for her to scrutinize his body language further, especially in a rare moment of his silence, and with a jolt, she noticed that he must have gotten a haircut. The style was shorter than normal, shaved closely on the sides and back. Paired with the young antlers sprouting from his crown, he looked boyishly mischievous– like Puck, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. 

“Did you go to the barber yesterday?” Y/N fished, with the knowledge that rhetorical questions were met with playful dramatics from Jeongguk. Again, Jeongguk shrugged, turning on the heels of his combat boots to face her. Though, rather than narrowing his eyes at her, his attention was caught by the altar just beyond her shoulders. 

“Went after lunch yesterday. You didn’t notice last night because you were otherwise distracted,” Jeongguk answered, his dark eyebrows furrowing. “Are those my antlers?”

Y/N, cringing from his passive remark, was stalled from replying when Jeongguk breezed by her and landed directly in front of her altar. Y/N felt the heat in her neck travel to her face, Jeongguk’s mouth open, pointing to the antlers he shed in the fall. Really, the antlers were only there for sentiment and not any kind of sorcery, but Y/N could see how it might have come off as, well, creepy. 

“I told you I didn’t want to get rid of them! That’s just where, I don’t know, where they landed after that night,” Y/N scrambled for apparently an excuse, Jeongguk’s tapered ears twitching. Making eye contact through the mirror, Y/N held her hands up sheepishly. 

“At least you didn’t turn them into a lamp.”

“No, I shot down that terrible idea when you came up with it in the first place. I can put them somewhere else if you’re creeped out,” Y/N grumbled, the two of them appearing to pick up where they left off. Y/N remained on guard for Jeongguk’s unpredictable tongue– though fortunately, that had her forgetting he knew everything. 

“I don’t care, just leave them,” Jeongguk mumbled, chewing on the ring through his lip in thought. His dark eyes were sweeping over her altar thoughtfully before he began to straighten back up. “I know why you kept them, you don’t have to cover your ass.”

Jeongguk’s tone was teasing, but in a snarkier way than typical. Y/N didn’t buy it for a second, and she felt as though she was stepping into something by challenging him. Not that it stopped her. 

“I’m not using them as an offering to Baphomet, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Y/N followed the elk hybrid back to the bedroom door, nearly plowing into him when he stopped short. Then, he was looking right at her with a humorless smirk.

“No, of course not. You learned your lesson, didn’t you? First thing I did when I got here was get rid of things you summoned. I gave you an impromptu exorcism right in that bed over there, remember?” Jeongguk deadpanned, Y/N’s throat closing and drying up– Jeongguk leaned towards harmless sarcasm those days, but it seemed he was resorting back to his bristly factory settings. Meanwhile, part of Jeongguk felt ashamed that he went on the offense before she could, but old habits die hard and he continued. “I know now you kept my antlers ‘cause of the crush you have on me.”

Y/N flinched, Jeongguk looking down his nose at her expectantly. Of course, the cat was out of the bag, but that didn’t do much to prepare Y/N for Jeongguk to be so direct. Her mouth was already open thanks to her jaw coming loose, but Jeongguk spoke again before she could get a word in.

“Really, you’ve no accounting for taste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N took a step back with that remark and regained composure, frowning at the elk hybrid. 

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Jeongguk shrugged for the third time, Y/N so annoyed with him she wanted to grab those shoulders and shake. “If you want pizza, you should move it before it’s gone.”

Jeongguk began to leave, but not before Y/N could catch one of his wrists. Due to the placement of her hand, she could feel Jeongguk’s pulse, which was quick but steady. Thankfully, she wasn’t shaken off immediately, Y/N passing her thumb over the black snake tattooed by his wrist bone urgently. 

“Hey. Talk to me.”

Jeongguk pinched the bridge of his nose, an odd, high-pitch whistle coming from what seemed to be the back of his throat. According to the elk hybrid guidebook she read, “bugling” were a series of sounds elk would make to establish some kind of dominance. Not to be discouraged, Y/N squeezed Jeongguk’s wrist once to get a verbal response from him. 

“All I meant, kiddo,” Jeongguk’s mouth was set in a grim line, Y/N struck by how dark the color of his irises were. Usually, his eyes sparkled with roguishness, rather than reproach. “If you’ve fallen for me, your taste in lovers is irreparably fucked.”

Y/N was stunned. Jeongguk was not the self-deprecating type, which distracted her from the fact that he had not only insulted her, but lumped the rest of the hybrids in with himself, like they were all some kind of damaged goods. She dropped Jeongguk’s limp wrist. 

All the progress that was made from August to April flashed before her eyes. At first, Jeongguk hardly tolerated her, not to mention his other hybrid housemates. It took nine months, but Jeongguk struck up a solid friendship with Namjoon, agreed to work with him and Y/N, and had even agreed to cut back on smoking for Y/N’s sake. The mean note to his voice reminded her of the early days. Luckily, after nine months, it was clear to Y/N that Jeongguk used hostility as a form of deflection.

“I think that’s for me to decide,” Jeongguk blinked at her reply, watching Y/N gather up a fuzzy blanket from the foot of her bed. On chillier nights, Jeongguk observed that she’d bring the purple blanket to the living room, either swaddling herself up or sharing it with one or two of the others. “My taste is fine, but thanks for your lovely unsolicited assessment. Here.”

Jeongguk– much to his chagrin– instinctually locked up like the prey he was when Y/N lobbed the balled-up blanket at his chest. It took half of a second for his arms to clutch it close, the fabric so thoroughly saturated with her scent it struck him instantly dizzy. Jeongguk couldn’t even sarcastically bite back, not that he necessarily wanted to, but his head was spinning and it took every drop of willpower for him not to bury his face into the blanket. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N stopped stomping around in pursuit of closing her windows passive-aggressively when Jeongguk didn’t take her bait. A bead of sweat was rolling down one of the elk hybrid’s temples, his body frozen in space. 

Jeongguk couldn’t bring himself to answer that time. His throat was raw, nostrils flared, and he had something comparable to a grenade, or perhaps a holy relic, in his arms. Jeongguk was more than familiar with Y/N’s scent; it was everywhere and it stuck to him, constantly. He could probably fly himself to Paris and have perfumers bottle up the fragrance that was uniquely and precisely her based on his memory alone. But as he crushed the blanket to his chest closely, he noticed a darker, sensual musk smothering the soft fibers. The edge it gave to her sweetpea-and-jasmine lotion and natural scents quite literally walloped him into stupidity. 

Fascinated, though still tender-hearted that Jeongguk’s reactions to her feelings hadn’t been particularly positive thus far, Y/N returned to his side. His tattooed arms were crossed over his chest like a mummy in a sarcophagus, the tip of his nose tucked into one of the folds of the fuzzy blanket she chucked at him. When she caught his eyes, he appeared to swallow thickly. 

“Uh… I just washed that blanket, so the detergent smell might be too strong. I know you’re not a fan of heavy perfumes,” Y/N shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. “Sorry for throwing it at you. I can carry it–”

Jeongguk loosened the hold on the blanket, pulling his face away from it before his baser instincts told him to do something humiliating with it. At the same time, Y/N reached for a stray tassel, only for the elk hybrid to humiliate himself in the end by dangling the fabric over her head and darting out of her bedroom like a frightened fawn. 

“Ugh, give it back, Bambi,” Y/N deigned to provoke, chasing him into the hallway, though the lighthearted interaction was a breath of fresh air she was grateful for. All she needed was a bit of Jeongguk’s antics to dissolve tension, candles and affirmations be damned. “Jeongguk.”

“No,” Jeongguk snatched his prize away one more time, rolling it up and sticking it under his armpit for good measure. “You threw it at me, so it’s mine now. Suck it up.”

It wasn’t good for her heart that Jeongguk could so effortlessly make it start and stop in her chest, as if his grin itself was a defibrillator. He started to saunter away when Y/N paused in front of Namjoon’s bedroom to catch her breath, but slowed his pace down as if he was waiting for her to join his side. Y/N only left him hanging for a moment, when no sign of her wolf hybrid in his room had her moving on. Dwelling on the fact that Namjoon didn’t make his nightly trip to retrieve her for dinner was something she chose not to do just yet.  

The further she followed Jeongguk down the hallway and through the foyer, the louder noises from the parlor became. Relief washed over her instantly, recognizing the distinctive voices and tones of her hybrids, each unique. Aside from missing them all, there was comfort in knowing they were all inside, safe from any potential threat posed by the “Harold Bass situation”. Taking a breath prior to walking into the parlor, she let Jeongguk go ahead, the elk hybrid wrapping her blanket around his shoulders like a cape and heading to the coffee table littered with pizza boxes. 

The room, dark but cozy, came into full view. Y/N had restored the parlor– living room, really– well before she adopted her hybrids, while she was still working as veterinarian. A lifetime ago it seemed, when the grand room was cold and lonely, is where she’d hunker down on the couch by herself to scarf down dinner to an old Hollywood movie. Now, the room was well-loved by many, and she was never alone at night. 

A blonde head of hair was the first thing she truly focused on in the damp lamplight, Jimin’s back to her, sitting cross-legged on the floor to eat. His large sandy ears were still wet from his shower, and he’d thrown on a cozy looking sky-blue hoodie.Y/N recalled the two of them feeding the chickens after their first cup of coffee that morning, then watered the newly established garden. Before she left for her errands, Jimin’s last words to her were “get home safe”. 

That memory was enough to make her clutch the wallpaper behind her, physically swooning. Jeongguk had ditched her meanwhile, taking the window seat with a slice of pizza in one hand and her blanket in the other, holding it around his neck securely, so she entered the room by herself. 

“Foxy, not so loud,” Yoongi complained when the fox hybrid switched the surround-sound on full blast to an insurance commercial, Y/N snickering while placing a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. Using the coyote hybrid for balance as well as giving him a squeeze hello, she knelt to the coffee table, snagging a slice of pizza. “Some of us actually give a shit about our hearing.”

Jimin didn’t flinch when she touched him, but his face was completely flushed when she got near enough to select the slice of pizza she wanted. She felt his bushy tail beating against her ankles, almost like his canine side was begging her to keep touching him in some way, shape, or form. Hoseok, fumbling with TV remotes, seemed much more high-energy compared to Jimin.

“Okay, Mr. Composer,” Hoseok made air quotes, then proceeded to do a wonky rendition of his favorite whistle tone and do nothing about the TV volume. He was in large, heavily branded sweat shorts and a tank top leaving little to the imagination, as if he was hanging out by a sunny pool in Miami rather than in a fire-warmed living room in early spring Massachusetts. When Hoseok tossed a look over his shoulder to screw with Yoongi some more, he saw Y/N and simply flashed her a smile. “Hey, darling!”

“Hi honey,” Y/N replied automatically, though through a mouthful of pizza and while wobbling on the balls of her feet, only staying upright because of the hold she had around Jimin’s deltoid. “Aren’t you cold?”

The dimples above the corners of  Hoseok’s mouth appeared while he moved away from the television, almost like he overheard a joke. It was anyone’s guess as to what was going on in Hoseok’s mind. However, true to his very core, Hoseok seemed to let things glide off his shoulders as he tossed finger guns at a still-wincing Yoongi across the room, tail swishing erratically behind him. 

Y/N would have put money down that he was headed for the coveted leather recliner, which was shockingly unoccupied, but the fox hybrid managed to slot himself between Seokjin and the armrest of the sofa. Something about the empty recliner had her rising up on her knees, Y/N peeking past Yoongi sitting cross-legged on the couch just a couple feet to see why nobody flocked to it. 

“I’ve just been willing the cold away at this point. It’s April, I can’t wear sweaters anymore,” Hoseok stole her attention from the empty recliner with a wink, the hybrid spreading his knees apart and sinking his body into the overstuffed sofa. In consequence, Seokjin naturally made more space for the younger hybrid with a deep purr. “Your turn to pick the movie, I’ve heard.”

It almost hurt to see Seokjin and Hoseok together: it was far too much beauty for the mortal eye to behold. Seokjin had his legs tucked up on the couch and to the side, and a certain golden glow clung to visible skin exposed by the crewneck sweater he was wearing– his hair was nearly the same shade of navy under the stained-glass lighting.

If Seokjin was night, Hoseok was day. Hoseok’s tresses were warmly auburn, miles of sun-kissed skin on display, and he draped his lithe body in the tight space in a relaxed way. After his long distance run in the late afternoon, Hoseok generally tuckered himself so much that he either ended up falling asleep on Y/N or Seokjin, head lolled onto a shoulder and his red ears floppy. Hoseok could fall asleep anywhere, which was something Y/N loved about him. 

God, she loved him. It struck her even harder when he leaned forward, offering her the remote with that heart-shaped smile of his. A memory from a handful of afternoons ago popped up into her mind as she took the remote; the chipped neon nail polish on Hoseok’s fingernails triggered it. After one of Hoseok’s last track meets, he and Y/N spent time in the basement reading comic books and painting each other’s nails. It was an attempt to cheer him up after he placed third in his category, and it was successful– Hoseok’s laughter was so infectious after seeing his shoddy manicure that Y/N left his room later in near stitches herself. 

“What are we watching?” Hoseok slid the remote into Y/N’s free hand, stifling a chuckle when she noisily swallowed the bite of pizza she was chewing on. He didn’t know if she could feel out the sort of vibes in the room he could, but then again, Y/N was witchy. “No ghosts.”

“No ghosts,” Y/N repeated solemnly, taking another bite of pizza and flicking through her movie library. “Mm. Can’t find it…”

As she rose to her feet, giving Jimin one more appreciative squeeze, Y/N made a decision to snag the empty recliner. It was tough, passing up on the her-sized crater between Yoongi and Seokjin on the couch where she was bound to be warm and held, but the neutral spot that night just seemed right. Perhaps the chair was empty for a reason, maybe the hybrids were testing her in some way. Perhaps it was a territorial thing, or a jealousy thing. 

Eyes on her constantly was not a new experience. In fact, Y/N had become quite unsettled whenever she didn’t feel the comfortable weight of them. It didn’t bother her that every movement it took to settle herself into the recliner was carefully tracked. 

“Give me the remote, what are you looking for? We’ll be here all night,” Jeongguk complained from behind her, his long legs stretched out over the window seat. 

“Aws,” Y/N muttered over a full mouth again, swatting the tattooed hand that was hooking around the back of her chair.

“‘Aws’?” Namjoon’s voice cut through the buzz, farther away. Y/N had to crane her neck, but she saw where the wolf hybrid had stationed himself: in front of the fire, at the table where they played chess. He seemed to be playing himself, his eyebrows furrowed and a pawn between his fingertips. Either that, or he was avoiding eye contact on purpose. He could one-hundred percent sniff out the fact that Y/N found out he ratted her out. “Is that what you said? Is that a real movie?”

“I think she’s talking about Jaws,” Yoongi had a notebook in his lap, the one he used to make lesson plans for Y/N and Daisy. Y/N tried her best not to be irked that Daisy (the four-year old hybrid child) was quickly catching up to her skill-wise. Really, it was a credit to Yoongi’s teaching capabilities. “Check the Thriller section instead of Horror.”

Y/N was actually just stalling for time, Yoongi was completely correct and she knew that. Taehyung wasn’t known for punctuality, much like Hoseok and Jeongguk, but his presence was the only absent one. The Kodiak hybrid’s presence was absolutely a necessary one too, however judging by the fact that everyone else was waiting for the movie to begin, she panicked. But when her finger hovered over the play button and the last of her pizza slice passed her lips, Taehyung strolled in from the kitchen entrance with a large bucket of popcorn. 

Picking a spot on the floor beside Jimin– a short ways away from Yoongi on the couch, as well– Taehyung stuck to his two closest allies at that point in time. Contrary to what he might have braced himself for before, such as disdainful glares from a certain wolf hybrid, Taehyung was simply greeted with a handful of nonchalant nods from everyone. It seemed he didn’t have to remain acclimated to being the black sheep anymore. 

“Why have you seen every movie on earth?” Hoseok scoffed, mocha eyes narrowing at the Kodiak hybrid snaking his way into the living room, though addressing Yoongi. “Every time she puts on a film, you’ve seen it.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve seen blockbusters. It’s the rest of you that have been catching up,” Yoongi was incredulous, though traced his lower lip in thought as his eyes dropped down to Jimin by his feet. “I’ll exclude Jimin, actually. He might have lived under a smaller rock.”

“Y/N, he’s being prejudiced against hybrids raised in labs,” Hoseok pointed at Yoongi like a five-year-old, aware that it would make Y/N laugh. His dramatics were rewarded by a snicker, and Hoseok forgot about blurred lines and complications. 

“I wasn’t raised in a lab,” Namjoon piped up, tacking on another valid point. Namjoon’s past was ambiguous at best. He hadn’t come around and said that he had been a “stray” in the wild in so many words, but everyone had accepted that as an uncited fact.

“So Yoongi is prejudiced and insensitive,” Jeongguk added unhelpfully, and Y/N was unsure whether to tell him to stop egging Hoseok on or rejoice that he was indirectly defending Namjoon. “Just put the shark movie on.”

Y/N exchanged a look with Yoongi, one that read we’ll laugh about this later, and the score to the movie quieted down outbursts from Hoseok further. Lights dim and attention captured, Y/N was able to hunker down into the leather cushions and nonchalantly check in on each of the boys throughout the first half of the movie. 

Everything was so… ordinary. Appetites were not affected at all, that was for sure– Y/N always ordered at least six large pizzas, on top of a few salads and the fried appetizers Namjoon and Jeongguk really loved, and all that was left was half of a Greek salad and three mozzarella sticks. Taehyung shared his popcorn with Jimin and Yoongi, and between a couple cases of beer and iced tea, Y/N wasn’t worried that the day’s big news had sickened anyone. 

Periodically, Y/N heard Namjoon tossing a log into the fireplace from behind her. Graphite scratching on staff paper, ice clinking against a whiskey glass, and choppy feline purring added to the movie’s score, all familiar sounds. Hoseok’s eyelids were heavy, but the movie proved to be too blood-pumping for his cheek to land onto Seokjin’s nearby shoulder. 

Y/N didn’t want to relax completely, however. For the movie’s two hour running time, there was a moment to mutually skirt around things. After that, though, Y/N was coming right out and saying it until she was blue in the face. Before she said goodnight, that was. I love you. 

“Ben’s place is further up,” Y/N’s breath was labored, inching her way up Beacon Hill with twenty-something odd pounds of camera gear strapped to her back. “If we need to come back, maybe he’ll let us leave some equipment, ugh, behind.”

It was a Wednesday evening at sunset, about a half of a week after they watched Jaws, and Namjoon had driven her and Jeongguk into Boston to do a preliminary investigation of the Parkman House. Due to the size of the camper van, Namjoon couldn’t park on Beacon Hill, so the three of them had to haul all of their gear up the cobblestone incline from a parking lot around the block.

 On top of being with two intimidatingly large (not to mention “exotic”) hybrids dressed in all black, each of them were carrying suspicious looking equipment, so stares from college students and tourists were impossible to get away from. One group of college students– art majors, from the looks of it– began to gasp aloud at Namjoon balancing four video camera tripods across his back, the weight of them totaling close to eighty pounds. The wolf hybrid hadn’t even broken a sweat, let alone broken his normal breathing pattern, so watching him soldier on was definitely more fascinating than the brownstones they were sketching. 

“Y/N, let me take one of those bags,” Namjoon either didn’t notice the students taking pictures of him or didn’t care, the wolf hybrid pausing and easing a thick strap off of her shoulder when he caught how she was struggling to get air into her lungs.

“Doubt Ben will let us leave shit there, his house is like a Pottery Barn. Don’t know how I feel about leaving said shit in a home where a four-year-old lives either,” Jeongguk was behind Y/N, moving extremely slowly towards the corner Namjoon was leading them around. The elk hybrid wanted to make sure if Y/N dropped anything, he’d be able to catch it before it smashed to smithereens. That, and she was notoriously unsteady on her feet and was risking falling over herself. “The Ovilus 5 took two months worth of Joon and I’s paycheck alone to afford.”

“Joon?” Y/N breathed giddily when the sidewalk leveled out, a smirk on her face. Namjoon’s ear fluttered in response to being addressed, accidentally getting the rolling case he was carting along caught on a wayward cobblestone. Y/N wondered if Jeongguk realized he had begun to call Namjoon by a nickname recently. She certainly did. “Wait, you’re carrying that right? Not me?” Y/N didn’t want to be held responsible for the $600 dollar ghost box tumbling out into the street, especially because the two hybrids so eagerly saved up for it. 

“Relax. It’s in the rolling case,” Jeongguk replied, guilt blooming in his gut when a drop of sweat slid down the girl’s cheek. He was certainly paying closer attention to her than he normally did in light of recent… developments. Guilt turned him queasy once he recounted all of the times he made her carry around heavy objects he wouldn’t think twice about throwing across the room. “How much further? What are you looking at?”

At the precise moment Jeongguk barked at a clump of frat boys pointing at the three of them, Namjoon stopped short before a black-shuttered brownstone. The abruptness of it all not only had Y/N almost slamming straight into a nearby tree, but the only thing preventing her was Jeongguk cursing loudly as he stepped on the back of Y/N’s shoe and pulled it clean off her foot. The spectacle, luckily, was not witnessed by the fraternity brothers who were frightened off by Jeongguk’s convincingly murderous mug. 

“Motherfucker, sorry, kiddo,” Jeongguk spat out the toothpick he had in his mouth, bending to one knee to retrieve Y/N’s sneaker that had fallen into the street. Luckily enough, the Parkman house was just off Beacon Hill and the main road, so the narrow colonial streets they were on weren’t busy with much automotive traffic. “Don’t step in that puddle, Y/N. The last thing you need is some doctor jamming a Tetanus needle in your a–”

“We’re here,” Namjoon announced, cutting Jeongguk’s spiel off entirely in favor of checking out the door to the temporarily closed bed and breakfast. 

Profanity didn’t particularly perturb Namjoon one way or another, but foresight had him interrupting for the sake of keeping his patience. Something nasty began to twist in his gut at the thought of Jeongguk using such crass language to refer to Y/N in any way. Tossing a look over his shoulder, Namjoon’s eyes narrowed at Jeongguk crouched on the dusty cobblestone, brushing dirt from a little yellow sneaker Y/N was formerly wearing.

Y/N leaned a forearm on Jeongguk’s shoulder to wrestle her shoe back onto her foot, taking advantage of his kneeling position. Quickly, not wanting to leave her touch lingering on Jeongguk, she hopscotched away by using his deltoid as a vault, over the puddle he warned her about and up the stairs beside Namjoon. Her wolf hybrid went back to examining the door, a sharp grunt paired with a frown making Y/N cock her head in exasperation– whatever inspector’s gadget she had in the remaining bag she carried, she knew she had to put down as soon as humanly possible for the sake of her musculature. 

“What’s the matter?”

“The door’s already unlocked… No one’s supposed to be here,” Namjoon grew a few inches visibly, fur on his tail and ears going static-rigid. Indeed, the proprietor of the Parkman House exchanged numerous emails with the three of them that the building would be empty. The bed and breakfast had temporarily closed in anticipation for the investigation, therefore a set of keys were sent to Judy’s shop so Y/N, Namjoon, and Jeongguk could let themselves in. 

“Old geezer could hardly write a legible email. It’s possible it slipped his mind to lock up,” Jeongguk was starting to feel exasperated as well, antsy to get into a working groove without Namjoon’s overbearing caution. “Let’s go, wolf. It’ll be dark soon and we’ve got three floors to cover. Together.”

Jeongguk reminded the wolf hybrid of his insistence on using the buddy system for that investigation, scratching the itch of needing to light up by jamming another toothpick into his mouth. Y/N took control, using her foot to push the door in, strolling inside without a care. Namjoon looked very appalled by this, somehow finding grace and chasing after her. Whatever worked. 

“Someone could have broken in, Y/N,” Namjoon scolded, dumping the tripods onto the ground, Jeongguk wincing immediately and using the toe of his boot to shut the door behind him. The elk hybrid didn’t want to listen to Namjoon drone on, so he took a bag of gear to start setting up in key spots. 

“Well if someone did, they certainly know we’re here now,” Y/N sent a pointed glance at the tripods at Namjoon’s feet, her eyebrow raised. “The proprietor said he was stopping by earlier to check on leaky sprinklers, he might have just left the door open for us. Stranger things have happened.”

“Y/N, you really need to be more–”

“Cautious,” Y/N mimicked Namjoon’s deep voice, intimately familiar with Namjoon’s safety lectures. His toffee-colored eyes narrowed into near-slits, twisting his Peridot ring around his right fourth finger, the one that Y/N and Jeongguk also sported. 

With Y/N already pulling candles from her own bag of spiritual items and Jeongguk clambering heavily around himself, Namjoon really had nothing else to do but prepare the audio devices for use. Ever since Seokjin questioned his loyalty– devotion, really– it’s like he was tripping over himself to prove otherwise. While unwinding a coiled XLR cable, he glanced at Y/N, wondering if he was smothering her by being so overbearingly protective. Dialing in, he listened: her pulse was steady, breath evened out. Lastly, her scent–

“You know, I’m with him this time,” Jeongguk returned from the quick lap he made around the first floor, interrupting Namjoon from falling into a trance, loudly clearing his throat. “I used to break into places constantly to see if they had activity. You think I had keys that were given to me? I was smashing windows with my elbow.”

“Okay, but context is important, sweets,” Y/N reminded Jeongguk, who sucked his teeth in response to her parry, screwing a camera onto a tripod beside an old staircase by the front door. “You were investigating abandoned buildings across the country all by yourself. Prisons and insane asylums filled with squatters, mind you. This is a very well cared for bed and breakfast off arguably one of the nicest streets in Boston, and there’s three of us. Plus, break-ins for this area are close to zero.”

“Close to zero, but not exactly zero,” Namjoon muttered to himself, clicking a fresh blank tape into his Walkman. The tips of his ears, the human ones, burned when Y/N sighed, and then she was closer to him than he remembered. 

“Yeah, and the whole “strength in numbers” thing doesn’t really matter if there’s a dangerous crazy person lurking around. I’m just sayin’,” Jeongguk used his molars to gnaw on his toothpick, closing one eye to peer through his camera’s viewfinder and adjust the focus. “A secret cult could be meeting here, a meth kitchen in the basement…”

“I love you guys, but you two are making up imaginary threats again.”

Protests and lectures ceased, but Y/N was expecting that. She was expecting the pregnant pause. She was not expecting a response, even if she’d die and go to heaven if the sentiment was returned by Namjoon or Jeongguk. Truthfully, it felt good to utter the three word sentence freely, whenever she wanted. Reciprocation wasn’t a thorn in her side. Y/N didn’t just love them romantically, but unconditionally, despite, and she was going to make damn sure they knew it.

“I’m just going around the corner to put some candles in the other room. Let me know when you’re ready to start recording audio and visual,” Y/N carried on, using a box of matches to point towards the area she was heading to. Jeongguk’s face was mostly hidden behind the viewfinder of his camera, only his drawn-together eyebrows visible. “Hmm. It doesn’t feel very energetically charged in here, one way or another. I suppose we’ll see…”

Y/N slipped away, tuning herself into the energies of the building. That left Jeongguk to pretend he was still adjusting the already perfect focus on the camera, and Namjoon to take the inhale he was holding. Words ringing in his folded-back ears, Namjoon fussed with the buttons on his Walkman and dedicated himself to being task-oriented rather than getting lost in his mind. 

The old brownstone had all the appearances of a haunted but charming bed and breakfast. Furnishings were overstuffed and from a distant time, the smell of bacon soaked into the kitchen's wallpaper in gelatinous streaks, and dust from the oriental carpets came up in gusts every time Jeongguk would stomp his boots over them. The first floor was quite choppy as far as the layout, very similar to the Victorian they lived in themselves, so Namjoon had to make an effort to linger in door thresholds in order to keep one eye on Y/N. 

Meanwhile, Jeongguk swept the whole first floor with the thermal imaging camera and EMF detector, letting Y/N conduct interviews with Namjoon. It was easier for the elk hybrid to work with the complicated equipment from somewhat of a distance rather than stand beside Y/N with the Ovilus. He wasn’t about to bring it up anytime soon, but her scent was near-suffocating, cloyingly sweet in nature. 

Jeongguk wasn’t stupid, he had heard of the kind of supplement that would prepare a human for a hybrid lover’s rut or heat before, but he didn’t take into account that Y/N using them would affect him so much. Y/N likely didn’t notice Jeongguk attempting to get a shred of space that evening: he didn’t usually cling to her like Namjoon did. Not only did the supplements change the way she smelled, but her body heat was steadily climbing day by day– her libido, too, no doubt. Within the pocket of his jeans, Jeongguk twisted his rosary around his wrist like a vice.

“We’re in the former home of George Parkman,” Namjoon’s voice is what captured Jeongguk’s attention finally, the elk hybrid quietly placing the Ovilus device on the dining room table. “Starting on the ground floor, interview one.”

Namjoon set up every tape like a diary entry in the beginning. Case organization was one of Namjoon’s most important jobs, and Y/N knew that without him, her and Jeongguk would be running around haunted homes directionless and annoyed with one another. Clearing her throat, she scanned the list of routine questions she normally asked when checking out a location, waiting for Namjoon to give her a thumbs-up.

“Is there anyone here who wishes to speak with us?”

Jeongguk, with great effort, held his patience together without needing a cigarette while the interview was conducted. It was part agony, but he only had to hold on for fifteen minutes before Y/N drew an index finger across her throat; the signal for Namjoon to pause the tape recorder. With a sigh, she dropped down to a seat on the stairs, noting how quickly the sun was going down through the window just beyond Jeongguk’s shoulders. Usually, the incoming darkness sent a shiver down her spine when she was doing a dance with the paranormal, but she felt nothing that time around. 

“I’m not sure you’re gonna get anything from that audio, bug,” Y/N glanced at her wolf hybrid, his eyes starting to reflect light due to the growing dark. “Nothing’s down here, at least nothing I can pick up on. I think the van might harbor more ghosts.”

“I didn’t pick up shit from the EMF. Ovilus, too. Six hundred bucks down the fucking drain,” Jeongguk held his breath, making his way to Y/N and the stairs and coming out of the shadows. “Do you think we’re being fucked with? Or is the owner schizophrenic, talking about these “voices” he hears?”

“Alright. Let’s not get nasty,” Y/N scolded, a frown appearing on Jeongguk’s face at once. Again, the elk hybrid made an involuntary bugle sound, which was the most frightening thing she heard since setting foot in the Parkman House. “Maybe the activity is centralized upstairs. Before you toss the Ovilus against a wall, let’s just check it out up there.”

“She’s right. The activity in the Sanders’ house was concentrated on the second floor. What, do you have a plane to catch?” Namjoon ran a hand through his silver hair, which had grown to a near-mullet. He should have gone to the barber with the elk hybrid when he had the chance. “We’ll leave a camera down here just in case, but everything else we should bring up. Get to work.”

With that, Namjoon collected all of the gear closest to him, Jeongguk unsurprised he was being ordered around by a wolf hybrid– an alpha, to boot. Jeongguk wondered if all of that authority Namjoon carried exhausted him. 

“I can’t tell if there’s a draft, or if the ghost really is up here,” Y/N broke the comfortable silence after ten minutes of setting everything up again, that time on the second floor where all of the bedrooms were. She was joking, noting that Jeongguk seemed particularly stiff, but there was a certain chill making her hair stand on end. “I can do the thermal imaging while you do the EMF, sweets, that way it’ll go faster.”

“Knock yourself out,” Jeongguk thrust the thermal camera into Y/N’s open palms, using her idea as an opportunity to duck into a random bedroom to get a mouthful of air that wasn’t perfumed by her pheromones. “I think we’re being played for fools, though.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Jeongguk’s theatrics, though he was doing a pretty decent job of making their interactions sting during that investigation. Trying to shake it off, Y/N instead tore her eyes from the crown of antlers disappearing down the hall and placed them on her steadfast wolf hybrid. 

“Do you think we’re being played for fools, Joonie?” Y/N’s tone was slightly soured, lifting the oddly shaped camera Jeongguk gave to her and passing its viewfinder over Namjoon’s frame. His heat signature was promptly displayed to her, blazing like midnight sun. 

“I’m not sure.”

That was a first. Namjoon nearly always had answers.

Nodding, Y/N gave Namjoon a soft pat on the back, pondering if he was just as ready to leave the brownstone as Jeongguk appeared to be. Hand slipping from his mid-back, Y/N stepped away from him with a cough, inwardly cursing at the amount of dust that seemed to be more ample than oxygen in that bed and breakfast. With the sound of her cough, Namjoon had to bite down on his lip until it bled in order to stop himself from asking if she was alright. 

The hallway was dim, light sources coming from lamp posts peeking in from the windows and the laser grid (another shiny new toy of Jeongguk’s) casting green dots everywhere. Tiptoeing around the device placed at the top of the stairs, Y/N continued to scan the surrounding area for anomalies shown by the thermal imaging. Leaning on the old banister that was the focal point of the bedroom floor, Y/N was able to glance down and see where her and Namjoon just conducted their first interview. 

Though she wanted to move quickly and efficiently, Y/N was diligent with sweeping every square inch of the hallway and handful of bedrooms. Not only had she always been a kind of perfectionist, but she had a couple of detail-obsessed Virgos working with her that would be just as annoyed if a spot was skipped over. Every time she’d weave into a small, colonial-looking bedroom, she’d catch Jeongguk disappearing with his boots on fire, the eerie shrieking of the EMF device going with him. 

In the third bedroom, close to the rear of the bed and breakfast, Y/N felt a draft growing stronger, and while it didn’t necessarily raise her alarms, she took several pictures beside an antique dresser where spots on the camera showed dark blue. As she scratched down some notes on a stray pad of paper she typically carried, still trying to grasp onto any kind of spiritual energy that was peskily hiding from her, when the sound of Namjoon’s voice conducting the interview alone irked her enough to drop her pen. So much for teamwork. 

When she snuck back into the hallway to level a stink-eye at the wolf hybrid, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. Beneath the lime colored lasers, the grid painting a futuristic design over Namjoon’s body, the wolf hybrid’s deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. Sure, it was his height and mass too, but it was the way he stood, really. Walkman nestled in the palm of his hand, the other wrapped around the leather belt cinching his waist, Namjoon always stood tall and proud. Swallowing to lubricate her dry throat, she forgot she was irked at all. 

“If you’re here with me, can you try knocking once for yes?” Namjoon went down their typical list of queries, his half-bitten left ear perked up in one direction to listen for a response. There was none, at least not one Y/N could hear. “Once for yes, two for no. Is there anyone here who has a message for us?”

Y/N cringed when she stepped on a creaky floorboard, Namjoon immediately pausing the tape and sucking in his cheeks. 

“You started without me,” Y/N pouted, Namjoon going weak in the knees. Neck teasing as an oppositional force, he willed himself to get a grip– he was losing the control he held so dear for the last 28 years of his life. “Not nice.”

“I’m sorry. Jeongguk told me to hurry up.”

“Where is he? He really wants to get outta here, huh…” Y/N muttered, placing the thermal imaging camera back into the open case near an open supply closet off the hallway, making sure to lock the case securely afterwards. She couldn’t hear the elk hybrid stomping around, so something must have intrigued him in one of the bedrooms. “Sorry about interrupting the recording. You can start again, I’ll just hang out here with you.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow raised, resting one of his hips against the wooden banister. Y/N feared that he’d fall, considering the wooden pegs holding up the banister didn’t seem stable enough to support a male hybrid weighing in over 200 pounds leaning on it. 

“Did you sense anything in the bedrooms?” Namjoon ignored her prompting to get on with the interview, his gaze roaming all over her in a way that had a sticky heat start to gather on her skin. “Or see, on camera, maybe?”

“Couple of cold spots in the rear bedroom from the thermal, but I felt nothing. Spiritually speaking, that is. Maybe Jeongguk will have better luck? Sometimes he can feel out certain energies better than I can, especially if he’s using prayer,” Y/N shifted from foot to foot, unable to decide whether or not the visual scrutiny Namjoon was giving her resulted in some kind of a hot flash. 

She didn’t have the knowledge to blame it on the hormonal supplements she was taking, yet. Absently, she began to fan her face, glancing around for Jeongguk again. Namjoon forgot to tell her exactly where the slippery hybrid went. 

“Are you okay? You’re flushed, I can feel it from here,” Namjoon pointed out the obvious, much to Y/N’s chagrin. The wolf hybrid straightened, taking two great strides forward and resting his palm across her tacky forehead while her heart launched into her throat. “You’re hot, star, but I don’t think you’re running a fever–”

Before Y/N could process the new name he gave her, Namjoon’s gorgeous angular face mere inches away, his entire body locked up as the knob from the front door downstairs started to jiggle loudly. Namjoon’s expression shifted from concern for Y/N to blisteringly guarded, his teeth bared and a growl tearing from his lips at once. In succession, Jeongguk’s combat boots thundered down the hall to Y/N’s right, and the front door blasted open with a boom. Namjoon’s hand slipped from Y/N’s forehead, ready to bound down the stairs to confront the intruder, but Jeongguk was blocking the way with an index finger pressed to his lips. 

“Maybe it’s the owner,” Jeongguk mouthed, though when multiple pairs of feet flooded into the first floor, Y/N felt panic settle in. The three of them were frozen, both hybrids ears high in the sky. “Fuck. I didn’t lock the door earlier.”

It was like a ball of lead dropped directly into her stomach, Y/N catching Namjoon cradling his head in his hands like he was praying to God. Jeongguk, holding up his hand, hoped that the two with him would follow his lead, but they were two headstrong individuals.

“I knew the stupid motherfucker would forget to lock up. Serves him right for kicking us off this case, right? Alright, we just gotta film something for the pod intro, and we can get the fuck outta here. We had enough B-roll to patch together an episode, anyways.”

Y/N recalled the original email Judy forwarded to her, where she mentioned a previous paranormal investigative team stirred up activity, rather than quiet it. There was no question that the clowns that broke in were that very same team. Y/N cautiously peered over the banister, noticing a group of men with cameras not unlike the ones her and her hybrids were using, when she was grabbed harshly by the back of her tee shirt. Jeongguk’s jaw was tight, the fabric of her shirt balled up in his tattooed fist. 

“Mark, what was the sketchiest area? The more paint peeling off the walls, the more views,” the high-and-mighty voice continued, the floor creaking as the trio downstairs walked through the entryway. 

“The basement was unfinished, sort of spooky, I guess,” a second, meeker voice reached Y/N’s ears, Jeongguk releasing her shirt stiffly. The fabric was damp from the sweat slicking up his palms. Y/N marked it down as a miracle that Namjoon hadn’t lost his cool, the wolf hybrid staring unblinkingly down the flight of stairs, but she herself had no idea what to do. 

“Whoa, what the fuck? Whose camera is this? Is the old fogey who owns the place taking cues from Paranormal Activity?”

Y/N felt nerves rise– remembering the stationary camera Namjoon left running in the dining room and mentally smacking her own forehead. Namjoon finally made a move, his teeth bared, bending swiftly to pluck the laser grid puck off of the floor and switch it off. The lights bounced off of the stairs before the device fully powered off, then plunging the second floor into complete darkness, making the wolf hybrid hiss sharply. Voices from downstairs quieted for a moment, creaking footsteps approaching the stairway.

“Did you see that flash of light, Jude? Jerem-”

It happened too fast, and somehow noiselessly, but Jeongguk’s heavy hands were on Y/N again. That time, he used all of his strength to shove Y/N into Namjoon’s body, the two of them colliding painfully and stumbling backwards into the empty supply closet. Jeongguk, with shaky urgency, stumbled in after them, shutting the door. For some reason, there was a chain lock affixed to the closet door, the lucky elk hybrid sealing them inside as his heart throbbed in his chest. 

All the while, Namjoon crashed into a metal shelf with a pained grunt, his arms caging Y/N in so she wouldn’t get injured herself. Namjoon could take agony, but even while his head was dizzy he knew he couldn’t bear to let Y/N experience it. Meanwhile, Y/N couldn’t breathe, still feeling how Jeongguk’s hands struck her shoulders with such great force, her back hit Namjoon’s chest and knocked the wind from his lungs. Previously, while she didn’t know what to do, being thrust into a narrow closet violently was definitely not on her radar. 

Namjoon was gasping, his eyes watering as he felt a metal screw cut into his back, hot blood slipping down his spine, unable to formulate a single word– let alone gather his rage and direct it upon Jeongguk. If he wasn’t fighting for composure and air, he would have already attempted to beat Jeongguk within an inch of his life. Clutching Y/N to his chest wasn’t making breathing any easier, the girl struggling for her own oxygen as she curled inwards and grasped onto Namjoon’s arms around her body. 

There was certainly enough space for one normal-sized person to comfortably stand in the closet, but not enough for two large hybrids in addition to an average person. Y/N’s hips squirmed backwards involuntarily, pressing into the tops of Namjoon’s thighs, a wheezing exhale coming from behind her. The side of Jeongguk’s face was turned to her, his skin white as a sheet, and it felt like a red-hot fire poker was jammed down his throat. He had been distancing himself from Y/N’s scent all night, only to lock himself into a closet with her. Her being worked up, alarmed because of him, only intensified the concentration of the scent, too. 

“Hey, someone’s up there for sure! You heard that noise, right? Might catch some more activity for the show!”

When the first footstep fell onto the rickety staircase, a whimper finally tore its way from Y/N’s vocal chords. The sound snapped Jeongguk out of his locked-up daze, spinning on his heel and putting his finger to his lips again, black eyes wide and desperate. She opened her mouth to whisper-shout at him, the air growing hot and suffocating with the three of them panting like wild animals in a windowless room, but the elk hybrid stopped her once again– with his rough hand over her mouth like a gag. 

“It’s my old team,” Jeongguk’s voice was barely audible, his head swimming and pounding, Y/N’s soft mouth smushed beneath his palm. “I can’t–”

Really, Jeongguk didn’t particularly care about confrontation, though he knew it certainly seemed that way. It was more like he wanted to avoid dealing with ghosts from the past out of annoyance, but now that he found himself in such a compromising position, he was torn between regret and relish. Y/N gawked at him with blown-out pupils, the weight of his hand pressing her back further into Namjoon’s body. Namjoon groaned when he breathed in, jasmine lotion mixed with adrenaline and something sweet making his mouth water. Goddamn hormone supplements.

Y/N’s mind went blank as soon as Jeongguk touched her, embarrassingly so. She followed the movement of his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his throat slick with perspiration. Namjoon’s weighty arms became like a vice around her torso, his body hunched forward unnaturally, dropping his face down onto Y/N’s shoulder. Flinching, the spot still smarting from Jeongguk’s push, Y/N felt Namjoon nose his way to the crook of her neck. 

“Turn on the lights, dude. I swear, someone’s gotta be up there. That flash looked like one of those laser grids!” Jeongguk’s nostril curled up in disdain hearing Jeremy’s smug voice. Not only was Jeongguk sure that Jeremy was the one who got him sent to Gerry’s shelter months ago, but he was reminding Jeongguk of the iron fist of which Jeremy ruled his team with. “Come on, this is good for the pod!”

Namjoon knew it was far from the time and space, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to bite down on the junction between Y/N’s neck and shoulder. He had only ever scented her once, and though he had been meaning to get around to doing it again for weeks, he never found the right time. Mortification struck through him when saliva dripped from his partly-opened mouth and slid down the side of her neck, Y/N’s hips stuttering against his thighs again at the sensation. A tugging sensation in his chest began to pulse when his lips passed over the choker she was wearing, his Christmas gift to her. She never took it off. 

“Keep it together, Namjoon,” Jeongguk breathed, though he was equally affected. Y/N was turned on, sweating, and bleary-eyed, not making the situation any better. To emphasize his point, his free hand landed on the shelf beside Namjoon’s shoulder, one of his legs wedging between Y/N’s to keep her from going completely limp. “I told you to fucking scent her days ago.”

Jeongguk had to think on his toes with Namjoon incapacitated. Looking back later, he’d probably count Namjoon being distracted as a blessing. The alternative would be his temper-driven rage mixed with clumsiness causing an otherworldly clusterfuck for everyone involved. With the three former members of his team breaching the landing to the second floor, Jeongguk worriedly glanced around the supply closet, trying his best not to flutter his eyes shut when Y/N placed a hand on his chest, bunching up his shirt in her grasp. He needed to create some kind of diversion to get Jeremy, Mark, and Jude out of that house, and then himself. Jeongguk was going nuts, searching fingers gliding along the shelf for anything useful. 

Y/N was in paradise or hell, that much was for sure. Sandwiched between two solid bodies, Namjoon’s lips on her neck and Jeongguk’s thigh pressing between her legs, her skin kept flashing with incinerating heat. She had to get a grip; there were intruders looking for her and her hybrids, ones that Jeongguk seemed to be wary of. But there was nowhere for her to go. Her head fell back onto Namjoon’s chest, clutching onto Jeongguk’s graphic tee for dear life. 

“You check those two bedrooms, I’ll get the closets.”

“Typical. Making Mark and Jude do all the work,” Jeongguk muttered, though so quietly, Y/N had to pull him closer to hear. The elk hybrid cursed, falling into her, but simultaneously his fingers brushed over something familiar on the wall. “Fuck. You’re killing me here, you two.”

 Jeongguk crushed his chest to Y/N’s harder in order to reach what he had found on the wall, both of their hearts competing to burst free from their ribcages. While biting down on his pierced lip, Jeongguk got a hold of the handle just beyond Namjoon’s face, pulling it down sharply. Nothing happened, causing him to recalculate and fish through his pocket for something, removing his hand from Y/N’s face. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N whined quietly, Namjoon still nuzzling his face into the side of her neck with vigor, possessed. Seconds were ticking by, footsteps getting closer and closer to the closet they were in, and panic began to return to Y/N even with the position she was in. “Jeongguk–”

Jeongguk pulled out his lighter and journal from his deep pockets, glancing upwards, and just far away enough from Y/N to tear a blank piece of parchment from the journal. At the same time, he lit the parchment on fire, illuminating the worked-up expressions of his two current teammates, pulling down on the fire alarm’s handle again while waving the flaming parchment towards the sprinkler in the ceiling. Again, nothing happened– the doorknob to the closet beginning to turn when Jeremy finally reached their hiding spot. The elk hybrid frantically began to jiggle the fire alarm handle, not realizing he was praying out loud in Latin. 

“Jeongguk, they’re coming–”

 The shrill fire alarm finally went off, the blood-curdling wail shocking Namjoon enough to whip his head upwards, drool dripping off of his fangs pathetically, his ears flat to his head and Y/N still in his arms. In the same millisecond, the sprinklers went off with a sputter, drenching the three of them head to toe in frigid water. 

“What the fuck! Is there a fire?” The jiggling of the doorknob ceased, slippery footsteps retreating back down the hall in a great fright. Jeremy was always a pussy, Jeongguk thought, laughing incredulously and blinking rusty pipe water out of his eyes. “Let’s go! We’re not catching the bill for this–”

Y/N coughed, some bitter-tasting water trickling down her throat, the sprinklers pelting the three of them so aggressively, the jets felt like pointed blades raining down upon the skin. It took a few drawn-out, exhilarating seconds, but with the sound of Jeongguk’s former team leaving the building in a panic, senses returned.

“Open the door,” Namjoon’s voice had a diabolical, livid edge, his grip on Y/N’s hips near-bruising as he pushed her forwards and away from his own body stiffly. “Open the door, now.”

It was hard to hear him even though he was mere centimeters behind her, the shrill fire alarm drowning out other sounds effectively. Jeongguk, knowing he had taken things too far and then some, obeyed and tore the chain from the lock promptly. Wet squelching sounds coming from the water sloshing around in his combat boots is what the elk hybrid put his focus on, the other half of his mind concerned with potentially damaged equipment. 

 Y/N finally regained some sense. It was humiliating enough that she was about as useless as one could be during that whole situation, but the frigid water soaking through her clothes was enough to shock her out of a lust-clouded reverie with a degree of shame. She was sure Namjoon and Jeongguk could pick up on how their proximity formerly affected her, not to mention. 

“Oh my god,” Y/N gasped, hurriedly flew down the stairs in order to potentially save the camera still running in the dining room, Namjoon hot on her heels with his anger quite palpable. The wolf hybrid had his treasured Walkman shoved under the sodden material of his tee shirt to protect it as best he could, the earthiness of the water soaking Y/N head to toe sobering him up completely. “We have to call the owner–”

“Wait here. Don’t go outside without me,” Namjoon demanded urgently, once they were in the dining room. Y/N miraculously found the camera in a spot not in range of one of the overhead sprinklers, while Namjoon flung the door to the basement open and disappeared. 

Within thirty seconds, the water came to a stuttering stop– Namjoon must have cut the main water supply in the basement in order to prevent any further damage to the townhouse thanks to Jeongguk’s antics. Truly, there was never a dull moment when it came to life with her hybrids, Y/N pushing a weak hand through her soggy hair, a pit in her stomach formulating excuses to offer the owner of the bed and breakfast. Jeongguk trudged down the stairs guiltily, carrying all of the equipment he could, bypassing Y/N completely and tearing out the front door. Before she could follow, Namjoon was back– still ticked judging by the set of his jaw. 

“Where did he go?” Namjoon spoke through gritted teeth and the still-blaring fire alarm, similarly strapping remaining gear bags to his body in a rush. It wasn’t like they could stay: the technology had to be checked for functionality, and industrial fans needed to be brought into the building to dry things out. 

“I think to the van…”

Namjoon sucked in his cheeks, distractedly grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and towing her towards the door. Y/N knew better than to continue to yammer on nonsensically, scooping up the last of their bags with her free hand and letting Namjoon take her away– only after the wolf hybrid locked up the building for real that time. It was tense, following his death march down the street, and if Y/N thought they were getting stares before the investigation from bystanders, the sight of her and Namjoon soaking wet and storming down the hill attracted a small crowd. Y/N kept her head down, squeezing Namjoon’s palm for comfort. 

Somehow, the clumsiness she and Namjoon usually shared abandoned them, and they arrived at the parked van in under three minutes of silence. Jeongguk had braced himself against the side door, forgetting that Namjoon had the keys to the vehicle hanging from a carabiner on his belt loop, his ears pinned back like he was waiting for a lashing. Y/N wanted to stop all of that before it began, tugging on Namjoon and offering him the most beseeching expression she could muster up. 

“Maybe we can blame the sprinklers on the leak problem the owner mentioned earlier.”

Y/N, classically, offered an off-beat remark, the words making Jeongguk’s shoulders sag pathetically as his back was turned from her. She had the feeling he wasn’t ready to unpack his reaction to his old “friends” surprising them, repentance and shame marring his usual energy Y/N was finely attuned to.  “That was fucked. Sorry…”

Namjoon, saying absolutely nothing in response to Jeongguk’s weak explanation, passive aggressively unlocked the van and began to load everything into the back. Y/N was proud of the wolf hybrid for taming his anger enough to let her do some damage control, at least for a bit. 

“It was fucked, but you reacted instinctively. Nothing we can do now but patch things up,” Y/N sighed, feeling slimy all over. Tentatively, she smoothed a hand down her elk hybrid’s back, feeling his ribs draw in like a corset being pulled by its strings as he inhaled deeply. “Bug, you got some towels in there? Come on, Jeongguk. We should get out of here and draft up a damn good email.”

Y/N motioned for Jeongguk to step up into the van’s living area, not exactly relishing in the hush that fell over the two of them. Really, Y/N thought that there were definitely worse scenarios that they had been in before, but it was typical for her hybrids to await impending punishment even after all their months spent with her– something that bruised her heart.

As she mulled that over, a sun-bleached towel dropped around her shoulders, Namjoon standing in the kitchenette with her and a tiny frown on his face. She opened her mouth to speak again, but her gruff-looking wolf hybrid stole her sight by laying another towel over her head, his massive hands mussing up her hair with the terrycloth in an attempt to dry her. His actions were a tad on the rough side, but Y/N appreciated the gesture all the same. The side door rolled shut, Jeongguk collapsing on the booth beside her. With the towel still obstructing her view, she flinched when a wet plop landed by her feet: Jeongguk’s shirt, balled up angrily.

“You’re a moron,” is all Namjoon said to Jeongguk, taking the towel off of Y/N’s head only to begin using it on his own wet hair with annoyance. Y/N could hardly believe that was all Namjoon offered him. The wolf hybrid began muttering under his breath, his cheeks going rosy when Y/N reached up to mop up some saliva on his face with the edge of the towel around her shoulders.

“Right back at you, moron. Scent Y/N when we get home before you get sick,” Jeongguk’s response was just as weak as Namjoon’s original jab. It seemed the two of them were a bit more shaken than they let on. “I’m sorry.”

Jeongguk repeated an apology, for the third time that day, miraculously. Y/N was suddenly overcome with a sense of hilarity, covering her mouth with a snicker, even though she felt bad about it. The two of them gawked at her in shock. 

“How long were the sprinklers on? All of four minutes? I don’t think there will be too much damage if that’s the case. I’ll call the owner in a few minutes, he’s probably already on the line with the fire department.”

“This is bad. We might not get other cases–”

“It’s just what happened. If the sprinkler system was leaky already, we can totally blame the situation on that. You guys might be above lying to this guy, but I certainly am not,” Y/N shrugged, not particularly caring if she was being deceitful if it meant protecting something that brought her hybrids joy. “Besides, I’m not thrilled that he left the door unlocked. You were right, earlier, being cautious about a break-in. Tit for tat, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Judas,” Jeongguk blurted, alarmed and reminded of Namjoon pointing out the lengths Y/N would go to protect their happiness. It actually made his guilt worse, noticing the shake to her shoulders as she wrapped Namjoon’s old towel around her body. “Are you sure? Blame it on me. Tell him I wanted a smoke and didn’t go outside.”

“Trust me this time, sweets, okay? Let me handle this. We all need a shower, though, are you okay to drive Joonie?” Y/N scanned Namjoon from top to bottom, his limbs stiff. Not recognizing how badly he needed to scent her, Y/N was kicking herself. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Namjoon scrubbed his towel against his forearms, his eyebrows pinched. As the seconds ticked by, the van was beginning to fill up with her scent again, which had him stumbling backwards to crank a window open. “Can you stay back here with Jeongguk? At least until we’re home.”

Y/N wasn’t offended in the least, watching him breathe through his mouth and clamber to the driver’s seat. If she could strap herself to the roof to prevent Namjoon from suffering on the way home, she would– even if it made her a little self-conscious to be told she stunk. 

As the old engine turned over with a grunt and groan, crisp spring air cut through the open windows, Y/N taking a seat several feet away from Jeongguk before the van started moving. Luckily, she always kept her phone in the van while they conducted investigations, so she retrieved the device water damage free from her purse and dialled up the owner to the bed and breakfast. 

Jeongguk was rubbing his temples, Y/N staring at him from the corners of her eyes while the phone rang. His chest was bare, both of his tattoo sleeves on display, skin dewy, and his throat was straining like he was holding back those pesky bugling sounds. The cab lacked the normal post-investigation sounds: tinny folk music played from a tape, the flicking of a lighter, fantastical speculations over captured evidence. 

“–so, Ms. L/N, I don’t want you to fret over the sprinklers, I should have scheduled for the system to be replaced before you swung by. My son is renting some dehumidifiers to dry things out, and if you’re still willing to help, I’d be thankful if you could come back in a few weeks.”

When Y/N hung up, blissful relief drained tension down her back body. The owner was perhaps a bit too understanding, but Y/N just counted it as a blessing sent from the universe. She had bigger fish to fry. 

“You didn’t mention Jeongguk’s old team breaking in,” Namjoon peered at her through the rearview mirror, jumping on the highway towards their home in Brookline. 

“What does Hoseok usually say… comme ci, comme ça?” Y/N was rifling around in her bag, grabbing a fistful of cotton nestled at the bottom. 

“I was the one who forgot to lock the door before we started. Can we just let this go for now?” Jeongguk snapped, finally caving and sticking a cigarette between his lips. He heard Y/N clicking her tongue in disapproval, but she allowed him to take the edge off. 

“Put this on. You’re gonna get pneumonia,” Y/N slid one of her old band tee shirts across the table, in front of where Jeongguk’s elbows were planted. She made it a habit of keeping spare clothing with her, originating back to her veterinarian graveyard shifts many months ago. “It might not fit great, but I don’t care. Put it on.”

Y/N could only take so much; and staring directly at the barbells through Jeongguk’s nipples was the breaking point. Jeongguk didn’t really want to go against Y/N’s wishes by then, either, somehow feeling like he was getting off scot-free and undeservingly so. With effort, he managed to get the old shirt over his newly grown antlers without burning a hole through the fabric with the lit cigarette in his mouth. The shirt was more like a crop top on him, but the long sleeves warmed up his arms and he didn’t actually mind the band Soundgarden. 

“Nice,” Y/N leaned back in the booth, unable to help herself by giving him a slow once-over. Besides, the approval of his appearance she offered transformed Jeongguk’s worried expression into one of meekness. “Well, my love, you can tell me what that reaction earlier was all about another time. When, exactly, is up to you.”

Jeongguk’s eyes rounded out so sweetly, Y/N could have wept. It was a stark contrast to the piercings in his face, his choppy haircut, and pretty much his entire smoky aura.

“… Stop being so corny…” Jeongguk mumbled, taking a heavy drag of his cigarette and dutifully glancing out the window. A snort is all Y/N replied with. “I checked most of the gear. Nothing damaged so far.”

“Well, thank God for me, will you?” Y/N stopped teasing her elk hybrid, pointing to the rosary wrapped around his wrist. There was a chance it was slightly cutting off his circulation, with the way he was holding it. “I’ll check the rest of the stuff. For damage, but for anything we might have caught, which I’m guessing is jackshit.”

With that, it was like someone pressed play on a paused scene. Namjoon’s folk music started to play scratchily, and the cab of the van filled with burning tobacco and spring air. There was only a half hour of travel time between Boston and Brookline, so Y/N didn’t have to marinate in her damp, smelly clothes for too long. Angels must have been watching over Jeongguk, because nothing was waterlogged at all. As he always did, when Namjoon pulled into the driveway, Jeongguk sprung up to be let out of the vehicle. 

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Jeongguk pulled Namjoon aside after he unclipped himself from the driver’s seat, one of Jeongguk’s forearms around his middle to cover what was exposed by Y/N’s shirt. Jeongguk leveled a scathing look at Namjoon, the look serving as warning the wolf hybrid not to be too rough with the girl if he was going to scent her. She’d been through plenty that day already. “Be… mindful.” He added one more warning for emphasis, and he was stalking up the driveway in seconds. 

“He always leaves us with the shit to carry in,” Y/N complained flatly, referring to the tapes they actually managed to fill during the short investigation. When Namjoon simply sighed, she glanced at him while folding the towel he offered her earlier– his fluffy grey tail was between his legs. “Oh, right. Joonie, can I shower before you scent me? I feel all icky, and I want it to be a pleasant experience… erm, that came off weird, didn’t it… I just meant that there’s grime on my skin, I want to be clean for you–”

“Relax, star. You can shower, I can wait until the morning,” Namjoon cut her off abruptly, his touch gentle on her tender shoulder where Jeongguk had bruised it. “I think we both need to decompress. I’ll get you an ice pack for those bruises when we’re inside, okay?”

The night sky was rather dim, though the string lights tacked up around the trees offered a celestial sort of light guiding her and Namjoon to the entrance of their home. That time, a comfortable quiet surrounded the two of them, and again Y/N felt proud of Namjoon for truly getting a handle on controlling his anger. As she looked up into the cosmos, Y/N could easily identify a couple of constellations thanks to Namjoon. Bravely, she ventured to bring up what else was on her mind. 

“You called me star.”

“Yeah, twice,” Namjoon kept his voice steady, but it was a challenge for him. Y/N never overlooked anything, but somehow he still hoped she’d slip up just once. “You hate it?”

“Now when did I say that?” Y/N exclaimed, nudging Namjoon’s sides with her bony elbow. It didn’t hurt, but Namjoon almost wanted to complain, just so she’d fuss. “I was just wondering where it came from.”

“You like when I tell you about the stars,” Namjoon shrugged, stepping carefully over the textured walkway in order not to trip, and keeping his eyesight on the stones to avoid eye-contact. “You gave me a bunch of nicknames. The others, too. I wanted to give you one.”

“I love it,” Y/N bit her lip, stopping before the front door with a fluttery chest. Under the porch lights, Namjoon’s light hair was brilliant like the stars that studded the sky. “And you. But you know that.”

Like wings of an airplane, Namjoon’s triangular ears went sideways, his eyes shifting left and right. Once again, Y/N wasn’t expecting Namjoon to get on one knee and profess undying love back to her, she simply soaked in how the sentiment washed over him. Though the flop to his ears and shiftiness of his eyes usually told her that the hybrid was uncomfortable, Y/N was familiar with the nuances of Namjoon’s expressions by then. There was a lot that went on in Namjoon’s head– he was highly logical, like Hoseok– Y/N could tell he was trying to come up with a perfectly crafted response. She didn’t really need that, though. 

“I know that,” Namjoon agreed, his shirt sticking to his honey skin, blue-light glasses slipping down the fine bridge of his nose. Faintly, a dimple appeared on one of his cheeks, sheepishly. “Should we…?”

Humming, Y/N caught his drift: should we go inside? With a squeeze to his shoulder, Y/N gestured to the brass handle, the front door slightly ajar from Jeongguk entering minutes prior. Above, the porch light flickered, Y/N suspecting someone within the house had a finger poised on the switch as a joke. With a shiver, Namjoon gave her one more sweeping glance, letting her inside before he followed. A cacophony of hybrid sounds greeted her, punctuated by her wolf hybrid sliding multiple deadbolts in place. While the arms of Hoseok and Seokjin were around her, Y/N watched Namjoon retreat to his bedroom while her cheeks flattened against Hoseok’s shoulder. 

“We’re out of blue glitter glue, darling,” Hoseok spoke around a little plastic cap between his teeth, his hands and forearms streaked with multicolored marker and sparkly glue. “I thought Jiminie picked up enough, but I guess if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself!”

“I’m in the vicinity,” Jimin grouched, just as coated in vibrant hues as the fox hybrid. “I bought all the tubes the store carried.”

“Here, use the green. Close enough,” Y/N rolled an item towards Hoseok, who caught it without glancing her way, far too immersed in creating encouraging signs for the junior track team he coached. “Jimin did his best. He can’t pull shit out of a hat.”

The day proceeding the botched investigation Y/N, Jeongguk, and Namjoon carried out was quite lovely weather-wise. Every window to the Victorian home they lived in was open to bring fresh air into the nooks and crannies of the estate, and unbeknownst to Y/N, Yoongi was airing out the place of her scent. While her other hybrids were too shy to say anything, the hormone supplements she was taking concentrated her scent so headily that it was driving everyone wild. From his spot on the grass, dutifully slapping happy stickers onto cardstock, Yoongi’s hazel eyes narrowed, envy coiling around him like a vice. 

No matter how hard he tried, Yoongi couldn’t squash down the teenage emotion. It was larger than that, he came to realize: he could handle the other six hybrids being affectionate, even loving Y/N. Though, like a black fly buzzing around in his face, it was Seokjin’s upcoming rut bringing out inner territorial feelings. Yoongi never cared for when he felt reduced to nothing more than his animalistic instincts. Even then, he actively had to press a hand on his chest to stop guttural hissing-growls from escaping into the air. Really, he needed to shift soon. 

“Darling, that could have been a lay-up.”

“Huh?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, tearing her focus from the poster she was working on. The fox hybrid enlisted her help for the task, naturally, and after some coaxing, she managed to get Jimin and Yoongi to join as well. “What do you mean, lay-up?”

“You could have said something about the cowboy hat he wears.”

“Oh. You meant why didn’t you go for the low-hanging fruit,” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, her coyote hybrid pouting and using a pinched thumb and forefinger to adjust the brim of said hat. When she continued, Jimin hid his face completely by dipping his head low for his hat to shield himself. “Stop picking on my sweet Jimin. He’s told you a bunch of times that he wasn’t a cowboy, he was a rancher.”

Hoseok whistled, his expression turning comically soured: his nose curled up, some of his teeth were bared through his parted heart-shaped lips, and his eyes swept upwards to the sky. Y/N didn’t know how he was doing it, but Hoseok had been squatting low to work on his poster for over half an hour, rather than sitting on his rear like a normal person. Experimentally, she pushed on Hoseok’s shoulder, his auburn ears fluttering at once, though he stayed solid in formation. 

“Stop picking on me, Y/N. Are you trying to knock me into the mud?” “I’m done with this one. Don’t you think we’ve made enough? How many kids do you coach, even? Making a sign for each kid is a little excessive,” Yoongi began to flap around the poster he worked on, Hoseok irking him for the umpteenth time that week. 

Hoseok, his perturbed expression deepening, rocked forward to his knees to snatch the poster away from the leopard hybrid. As quick as he was, Y/N knew she didn’t have to worry about Hoseok smudging any of Yoongi’s hard work. 

“Okay, kitty-cat, minus two points for bitching, but plus one for effort,” Hoseok tsked, mocha eyes sweeping over the cardstock. “You’re tenser than usual, by the way. You should shift and sit in a tree for an hour or two, that usually calms Jinnie down.”

“You should mind your business,” Yoongi muttered, absently poking a dandelion sprouting beside him with a pinky finger. Even without looking up, he could tell Y/N was boring holes into his face. He could guess what she was thinking right away, without her saying a word. “I’m fine.”

It was an interesting concept to mull over: Y/N’s hybrids fully shifting into their animal forms to blow off steam. Hoseok did it at least once a week, Seokjin maybe every other. Then there was Namjoon, who admitted to Y/N that he took nightly walks around the property fully shifted into wolf form– which was a particularly reassuring protective measure. As for the others, it was only at Gerry’s shelter that they allowed Y/N to interact with their other forms. 

“Do you dislike it?” Jimin ventured to ask, twisting the cap back onto a tube of pink glitter glue, used for a poster cheering on a child named Maryam. Yoongi wasn’t fooling him or Hoseok, not with the acrid stench of distaste coming off of him. “I never enjoyed when I had to shift on the ranch. We really only had to do it if we were backed into a corner.”

“How do you mean?” Yoongi ignored Jimin’s initial query, trying to disguise his sour mood by limply flopping over, his head then in Y/N’s lap. The grass smelled new and sweet, and he was warm all over when Y/N began to stroke through his hair gingerly. 

“Well, I’ll give you an example. There was a pack of actual coyotes we were trying to push from one spot in the park to a less populous site, just as a precaution. Really, there were a handful of reasons for trying to lure them away: there was evidence of rabies going around, and smaller wildlife was noticeably shrinking. Park officials didn’t want too many coyotes picking at carcasses in broad daylight– it scared away visitors with families.”

Jimin leaned back on his palms, carefully removing his hat and placing it next to him. In the sunlight, Jimin was like a beam of it himself. His eyes were such a bright shade of yellow that they put polished citrine gems to shame. Tan, hair sun-bleached, Y/N was convinced Jimin alone was bringing the spring season to their backyard just by existing. 

“The only way we could handle the problem as safely as we could was by shifting into a patched-up pseudo “pack”, my fellow coyote hybrid ranchers and I. By acting as a rival pack– one that was smarter, fiercer– we were able to get them to a remote corner of the park. Then we shifted back, and had to put down some of the rabid coyotes.”

Jimin’s expression, placid and drinking in the sunshine, held no hints of perturbation. Y/N was in the middle of plucking dandelions from the grass to tuck them into the strands of Yoongi’s long hair, soaking in every word Jimin said. Jimin didn’t shy away from talking about his life prior to Y/N being in it, but she suspected that he left out some of the violent parts of his previous occupation in order to protect her. Taehyung did the same thing when he spoke of the logging plant. 

“Anyways, I’m going on a tangent. We’d only have to shift for rare instances of that nature. My parents and siblings didn’t shift much growing up, and I didn’t either. We always just felt closer to our human sides. It’s… itchy and disorienting to be fully coyote.” Y/N had to choke on not blurting out adorable! It was a serious conversation, after all, but Jimin’s pout changed his whole entire face enough for cuteness aggression to possess her. One of Yoongi’s hazel eyes cracked open, Y/N’s slightly-chilly fingertips dragging from the bridge to the tip of his nose absently. 

“Itchy? I get “disorienting”, especially if you aren’t a frequent shifter. But itchy? Are you sure you didn’t have fleas at one point that ruined it for you? I mean, you were and are outside all the time.”

“Shut it, Foxy,” Yoongi sang, much preferring to listen to Jimin rather than Hoseok. “You’ve been scratching your ears for a week, are you sure you don’t have fleas?”

“I’m allergic to pollen. If I had fleas, so would Y/N. I fell asleep on her bed last night, in Foxy-form. I thought she’d be cold after the sprinkler fiasco the elk caused.”

Hoseok shrugged while taunting Yoongi with a snide tone, Y/N’s face going molten. There were few, if any, secrets left in their great old house, but Hoseok seemed to have absolutely no problem with having 100% transparency. It was true, Hoseok occasionally snuggled up to her in bed when the basement he lived in became too frosty, and almost like a labradoodle, they kept each other toasty though colder nights. 

“Hey, maybe you should give that a try tonight, Yoongi. Shift and hang out with Y/N. You’ll be less of a sourpuss, I guarantee,” Hoseok barrelled on, a grin on his face as embarrassment blushed over the leopard hybrid’s face. With a hiss, Yoongi pushed himself upright, a dandelion fluttering to the ground from its place tucked behind his spotted ear. 

“I’m like three times the fucking size of you when I shift, I can’t curl up like a lapdog.”

“Guys, please. You’re giving me a headache,” Y/N rubbed one of her temples, noticing that the bickering caused Jimin to lay down, hat over his face. 

Both Hoseok and Yoongi mumbled a solemn apology, ears flattened. Y/N could never get over their exaggerated reactions, it being one of the things that endeared her hybrids to her, but sometimes it was rather cartoonish. 

“If you gotta shift, angel, I think you should do it soon before you talk yourself out of it. I’m already ticked at Namjoon for refusing to scent me. He can be so stubborn…”

The wolf hybrid was supposed to scent her that morning, but made up a couple of rushed excuses to wait before he hurried off to his book club meeting with Seokjin. As always, with Namjoon, it was two steps forward and three back. 

“No, Y/N, he’s smart to hold off, even if he ends up with a fever for a day or two. It’s for Seokjin’s sake, really,” Jimin moved his hat away from his face, one of his sharpened canines flashing in the sunlight. He began to stand, checking his wristwatch. It was just about time for him to take Vista for a longer ride around the back trails, as much as he wanted to copy Hoseok’s idea of sinking into Y/N’s bed for a nap.  “However, I think it’ll be fine if Yoongi wants to shift and be near you.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Y/N’s flush only deepened, starting to help Hoseok clean up the art supplies to hide her bashfulness. 

Something she had read about ruts in an article stressed the importance of holding off on letting other hybrids scent you– if you had others– leading up to another’s rut or heat. It mostly had to do with avoiding aggressive territorial behavior, which Y/N couldn’t imagine Seokjin displaying, but wanted to nullify the possibility of it cropping up anyways. 

“Aw, who the fuck am I gonna hang out with you and Jinnie out of the house?” Hoseok complained, though a strange clawing sensation began to wrap around his throat. He did not chalk it up to jealousy, as clever as he was. 

“Help me with the yard work. In fact, meet me out back in twenty minutes. It’s your turn to clean the coop,” Jimin lifted a blonde brow, his eyes softening when he glanced at Y/N, giving her a sweet smile paired with a wink before he headed deeper into the backyard. “See you at dinner, Y/N!”

“Love you, Jimin. Be safe back there,” Y/N didn’t notice Jimin slightly stumble over his own boots as she called after him.

 There was a phrase Y/N recalled Alice saying about her work crush that applied to Jimin in that moment: hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave. There wasn’t another soul on earth who looked better in blue jeans. When the coyote hybrid grinned at her, he still did not have the courage quite yet to confess how he felt back. There was a time and place for everything, in Jimin’s book, and it hadn’t arrived.

“I’ll be careful, now.”

With a swish of a sand-colored tail, Jimin disappeared past the old greenhouse, towards the stable, Y/N not tearing her gaze from him until Hoseok started to whine again. 

“Hmm. He’s always making me do chores, but Jimin’s probably the most fun to hang out with besides you and Jinnie. I don’t see myself waltzing into the “Mystery Van” with a scent-sickened wolf hybrid inside it anytime in the near future,” Hoseok also watched Jimin leave, already coming up with a list of topics to ask the coyote hybrid about. He wanted to know exactly how those rabid coyotes were put down without Jimin retaining a scratch, as morbid as that curiosity was. 

“God, I hope he doesn’t get sick… Jeongguk sure as shit won’t take care of him… and Joonie is such a baby when he’s under the weather…” Y/N remembered Namjoon and his moody nature, with the reminder that he wasn’t Hoseok’s favorite person in the world. It seemed Yoongi wasn’t, either, at that moment. 

“You worry too much, sweetheart. Namjoon’s a grown man. He’ll survive being away from you for a handful of days,” Yoongi helped Y/N to her feet, instantly regretting the words coming out of his mouth just in case she took them the wrong way. “I’ll check in on him if he gets sick. He’ll miss you, we all will, but we’ll be fine.”

“For real, Yoongi, you need to lighten up. You’re droning on like Hamlet.”

“Hey, what do I have to do to get you two to stop bickering? Handcuff you together?” Y/N had one of each of their wrists in her grasp, waving them around.  

The clawing sensation around Hoseok’s throat darkened into a powerful, sure sensation, one that had the corners of his mouth turning up wickedly. It came out of absolutely nowhere, rolling the joint in his wrist around to capture Y/N instead. Startled, she stared blankly at her right wrist that Hoseok secured. 

“Oh-ho. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” Hoseok teased, though his voice didn’t hold the tenderness it usually did when he’d mess with her. The first time Hoseok sunk his teeth in Y/N’s neck was the last time he felt like that. It was locked away within him all along, a feral caged animal. 

“Huh?” Y/N squeaked, his sharp fingernails creating dents in her flesh. Yoongi, partly intrigued but pushed past the brink of annoyance, rolled his eyes. “Hoseok, what–”

“Stop it. Didn’t she say you were giving her a headache?” Yoongi scolded gruffly, able to shake Y/N’s grip off of him in order to smooth some of her hair behind her ear gently. She was burning up deliciously, something about the situation the three of them were suddenly imagining making her knees knock together. 

Y/N could not allow those hybrids to affect her so clearly. Putting her foot down, her chin jutted upwards, absorbing every inch of Hoseok’s face. His hair, like Namjoon’s, was getting pretty long. Parted in the middle, it covered half of his face, and his smirk was more devil-may-care than innocent. Paired with the stupid thin tank top he was wearing to show off his athletic figure, Y/N realized two could play at that game. 

“Yeah. Just because I love you, doesn’t mean you get to fuck with me all day, Hoseok.”

The smile fell clean off of Hoseok’s face in utter shock, Y/N letting the double meaning hang in the air thickly. Yoongi snickered darkly with his arms across his chest. Attagirl. 

Quickly, she brought their still-interlaced fingers to her lips, sarcastically planting a kiss on Hoseok’s sharp knuckles before letting him go completely. Trying to steer her thoughts towards the meal-prepping she was going to get started on for her and Seokjin’s time away from the main house, Y/N plucked up the tub of glitter glue from the ground, fixing a simper of her own across her face. 

“I think I’ll sear those steaks while you work on your meal prep,” said Yoongi, mildly, as if Hoseok wasn’t reeling with his pulse making his carotid throb. “There’s a ton of parsley growing, so we’ll have chimichurri with it. I’d ask you to help, Foxy, but you’ve got a coop to hose down. Chip-chip.”

With dandelions that matched his cardigan still woven into his inky hair, Yoongi wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, letting the fox hybrid clean up the slew of posters for his coachees by himself. It was infrequent in occurrence, but when Hoseok was truly stunned, it was hilarious to behold, Yoongi steering Y/N away and burying his lips into her hair in order to stop himself from cackling. 

“Was I too mean to him?” Y/N murmured moments later, slightly shaking her head when Yoongi’s palm slipped into the back pocket of her jeans while they walked up to the back of the house. 

“Mean? You told him you loved him. Forget him, for a while, alright?” Yoongi grouched, squeezing the cheek in his palm for emphasis. Y/N covered her mouth before she yelped at the sensation, knowing that Hoseok still had his eyes on the two of them from across the yard. “I got like, 24 hours left with you until Seokjin takes you away.”

“Not forever, angel,” Y/N soothed Yoongi as best she could, giving a tight hug as soon as they were back inside the kitchen, by themselves. “Only a few days.”

“It’ll be the longest time without you since last August.”

Yoongi pointed that out quietly, the words a bit garbled because he had a mouthful of her sweater, face hidden in her chest as she held him. In that position, both of his palms tucked into her denim pockets now, he ducked low so he could press his ears to her heart. Pity overtook her, Yoongi actively sought to be soothed, so for as long as he allowed her, Y/N held him. 

“You’re gonna spend the night with me, okay? I don’t care if your big ass pushes me off my bed when you shift, either. You need it.”

Y/N offered no room to argue while she chopped some parsley for Yoongi, the leopard hybrid slowly pulling the dandelions from his hair and placing them on a paper towel. He didn’t respond verbally, but a reluctant purr told her that he’d heed her advice. Y/N, on the other hand, could hardly wait for later on that night. 

Dinner was not drawn out that night. It seemed that all of her hybrids had projects to focus on, but Y/N drew her own conclusion: they were all trying to maintain distance, considering Seokjin nearly folded a fork in half every time another tried to get close to her that evening. It was obvious that Seokjin was desperately trying to grasp for a shred of control over his hormones, so for once, he was the first to excuse himself from the kitchen. It was a blessing in disguise, as sexy as it was to witness a possessive streak running through Seokjin, because before everyone retreated to their own bedrooms, Y/N could match her day calendar to her hybrid’s. 

“So, Joonie and Jeongguk are taking the midweek shifts at Judy’s for me, and Jimin said he’s going to check up on my parents Thursday, do a run to town with them. You and Hoseok have a game and a meet on Friday, him in the morning, you in the evening… then Tae mentioned there’s something to do with a shoot he needs me for Saturday–”

“Weren’t you the one who said you needed to get extra sleep?” Yoongi drawled from the foot of her bed, tossing his folded cardigan and tee shirt onto her vanity stool. He lifted an eyebrow when she hardly looked up from her notebook, his arms crossed over his naked chest, tail winding around his waist. “Baby.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right, I’m sorry. I need to just drill this so I don’t miss anything,” Y/N exclaimed, scanning the page once more while adjusting the fit of her pajama top. “Get comfy, love.”

She was at the very edge of the mattress out of habit: there was a rotation of visitors she got almost nightly that hogged her bed. The sound that captured her attention completely was heavy fabric hitting the floor and a whoosh, Y/N blinking at the spot that her leopard hybrid once stood. Guilty that she had ignored him, Y/N leaned over the end of her bed, chewing her lip and suddenly face-to-face with a green-gold eyed leopard.

“Aw. I’m sorry, angel. Come on, let’s sleep,” Y/N apologized softly, her heart pounding. Naturally, her rationality was telling her to flee, but her heart knew best. Leaning back, she tossed her notebook somewhere onto her nightstand, simultaneously switching off the velvet-shaded lamp and pulling a thin blanket over her legs. “Jump up, come on. I don’t bite.”

If leopards could make expressions of exasperation, Yoongi was displaying one clearly as day. It was close to a full moon, so Y/N could see him pretty well without the lights on, though the feline eyeshine had her pulse quickening even faster. It was odd to talk to Yoongi without him immediately responding, however, he didn’t waste too much time by pouncing onto her bed with one coiled movement. 

Y/N, for a split second, felt terrified, in truth. Thankfully, the feeling washed away substantially when Yoongi comically slumped onto his side, the feral, deep purring coming from his chest indicating he was relaxed, not poised to hunt. Tentatively, while his large eyes tracked her movement, Y/N scooched closer to the large cat, fingertips passing over his strong shoulder joint. His tongue peeked out, laving over his lips and revealing vicious fangs, which had her arm stilling. Simply watching her, Yoongi waited for Y/N to resume tracing the dark rosettes covering his coat. 

“You’re probably mentally screaming at me to relax, aren’t you?” Y/N whispered, Yoongi’s rolling purrs resuming and growing in volume. “I’m getting there…”

Determined, Y/N wiggled around for a moment, finding a sweet spot where she could sling her arm around his wide middle, her forehead against the thicker fur covering his chest. From that spot, she could hear the heavy thundering of a leopard’s heart, and his tail finally rested by winding around her thigh and calf. Breathing in the animalistic, musky smell his coat had clinging to it, Y/N shut her eyes and felt her muscles grow loose. There might be a predator in her bed, an animal known to hunt prey such as her, but it was Yoongi, and he’d sooner die than hurt her. 

“Sweet dreams Yoongi, I love you.”

Violent thunder cracked through the blackened skies so loudly that it was fearsome, and for a moment, Seokjin began to fret over lightning striking through the windows somehow. Sure, renovations were made to the three-room guesthouse recently, however, they were minor: the 100-year-old windows hadn’t been replaced. Granted, nature waited for no one, and that went for the weather and his own physical body. The timeframe he was able to give Y/N as a warning didn’t allow for a complete overhaul of the space they’d spend his rut in. 

It was any second now. Seokjin could feel himself holding on by a thread. Swallowing down an excess of saliva gathering on his palate, Seokjin drew the plaid cotton curtains shut around the living space, as if the fabric would block out lightning that may come through the glass. Earlier in the day, he fled to the guesthouse before his housemates woke up; the only one he wanted to see him in such a state was Y/N. With a shiver, Seokjin slid the curtains shut even tighter when he could still capture a glimpse of his reflection in the glass windowpane. 

Seokjin was pretty much always cold, and even in April, he kept himself warm in sweaters and sherpa-lined jackets. Therefore, sweating bullets in a thin undershirt was enough to tell him he was climbing towards a fever pitch. In fact, he had three oscillating fans going, perspiration collecting on the nape of his neck until the volume of it was too great for his hair to hold, leaving it to slide down the deep indentation over his spine. He’d have to shower again, his flushed skin so tacky it made him want to flay it off of his bones. 

Every single sense of his was heightened to an almost painful degree. Even the rush of air from one of the fans he walked by was enough to make him groan quietly, reaching for a frosted bottle of water sitting on the counter of the kitchenette. The taste of the water was enhanced, every mineral taking on a distinct flavor. He was irked that he could hear a loose gutter banging against the side of the guesthouse like a snare. Seokjin, strongly disliking the agitation that was poisoning his normally pleasant demeanor, tried to focus on the space around him rather than his oversensitive senses. 

Y/N worked so hard to create a comfortable environment, that much was abundantly clear. He was falling in love all over again, taking in the stacks upon stacks of throw blankets smothering the sleeper sofa in the living area, which faced an old television set with familiar DVDs piled up beside it: his favorites, mostly cheesy action movies. There was no harsh lighting, only lamps giving off a soft orange glow, and when he pawed through the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator earlier, his preferred snacks overflowed the cupboards and prepared meals in tupperware were ready to be heated up at any point. Finally, the upstairs loft was made up in Seokjin’s own sheets from his bedroom, and plenty of his pajama sets and loungewear were ready for him to slip into. The only thing that was missing, really, was his mate. 

Seokjin had to remind himself that she’d walk through the door in mere moments: Y/N had to call Ben and the Santos twins, considering she wouldn’t be anywhere near a phone for at least three days, unless there was an absolute emergency. Seokjin gripped the veneer-covered counter so tightly at the thought of her attention being stolen, the flimsy wood began to splinter beneath his hold. Eyebrows drawing together, Seokjin counted seconds as he exhaled, simultaneously peeling his sweat-soiled tank top off of his torso. Rain mixed with hail began to pelt the windows, so deafening Seokjin couldn’t hear anything that could be lurking outside of the guesthouse. 

It felt like a millennia, but in reality, the minute hand on his vintage watch only moved 1/12th of the way around the face when shuffling of feet was heard outside of the small cottage. Immediately, Seokjin sprung into motion, tearing the door almost clean off the old hinges to see who was at the door, even though every instinct in his body already knew. Standing there, knocking rain off of her rain boots by stomping them on a wheatgrass welcome mat, was Y/N, lovely as ever– albeit a little waterlogged despite the umbrella she was holding. 

Seokjin didn’t mind that the umbrella fell from her hand and blew across the yard, for all he cared, Jimin could fish it out of the pond at a later date. He pulled her inside eagerly, his body shivering as her rain jacket nearly sizzled against his inflamed chest. Despite the roughness of the action, followed by the prompt slamming and locking of the only door out, Y/N giggled sweetly, letting herself be embraced without restraint. 

“I’m all yours,” Y/N began, only filled with a tad of anticipation. There were only so many articles to read to prepare herself for something real. 

“Finally,” Seokjin’s entire body felt like a live wire, but he feared that because his fever had not reached its peak yet, the rut had yet to begin. He couldn’t imagine feeling any hornier than he already did, for lack of a better word. To calm himself, he methodically placed chaste kisses all over Y/N’s cheeks. 

“Mmm… Seokjin, you’re burning up, honey,” Y/N got out, his lips like stamps of hot caramels melting on her face, not expecting to get right… to it. Her hands were pressed against his bare chest, Y/N rather shocked that the modest jaguar hybrid was in a state of undress already. 

“I know… I’m gonna shower,” Seokjin pulled away only a few inches, the ends of his navy-black hair curling up with dampness. His rounded ears were fully alert, angled slightly down in her direction. Seokjin was definitely keyed up, his body heat like a furnace and triggering her own temperature to rise. “Why don’t you get comfortable, have a snack while you wait for me? Pick out something to watch?”

Y/N processed his words, the jaguar hybrid’s register becoming lower and thicker in comparison to its typical mellifluous quality. There wasn’t room for her to counter his suggestion, Y/N squirming in place as she let Seokjin shuck her raincoat off and hang it besides his own. A vein pulsing over his temple was another indication that Seokjin was trying to keep himself together, and he was nearly holding his breath every time Y/N got close enough. The only alternative to holding his breath was huffing her scent in like paint, which was humiliating enough to simply imagine. 

Y/N stepped out of her boots and attempted to look away from Seokjin’s chest. Every time she saw him without clothes on, she was reminded of classical statues. His proportions were not of nature, rather belonging in the realm of fine art, nearly chiseled from a fine marble. Paired with the dewy sweat coating his abs and broad collarbones, the sight of him alone was almost enough to do her in. She was waiting for him to initiate anything, however, even if she was restraining herself from squeezing her thighs together. 

Walking further into the space she created for the two of them, the tender side of her that hadn’t been squashed down by lust yet rejoiced seeing that Seokjin had turned on the lamps and had settled in somewhat already. 

“Towels?”

“What’s that, Seokjinnie?” Y/N, out of it, spun around, Seokjin leaning one elbow above his head against the frame of the bathroom door. Eyes had darkened to a near-bronze, his free hand tugging at the button of his slacks. “T-towels? The whole closet in there should be filled with them.”

“I’ll be out soon. Eat something for me, please,” Seokjin pursed his lips playfully, attempting to halt his breathing pattern once more. The last time he took in air tainted with her scent, he almost lost his composure entirely. On his mind, still, was the possibility of Y/N getting hurt under his watch, or worse, by his hands. The very least he could do was make sure she had adequate nourishment and hydration. With one last glance, noting the heaviness to her eyelids, Seokjin locked himself in the bathroom.

With a sigh Y/N didn’t realize she was holding onto, she shook out her hair and headed into the kitchen area, selecting an electrolyte drink from the fridge and dried mangoes to snack on. Truthfully, she was the furthest thing from being hungry for food, but rationally, she knew to heed Seokjin’s advice. Chewing on the sugar-coated fruit slowly, Y/N climbed the ladder to the loft to find something to change into. Despite the fans going, Y/N was hot, almost uncomfortably so, and none of the clothing she left up there seemed cool enough. 

After some deliberation, she stole one of Seokjin’s tee shirts, an impossibly soft cotton one in a shade of cotton candy, a pocket over the left breast. There were no shorts of her own, considering Massachusetts was still pretty frigid in early April, so the next best thing was one of the pairs of boy shorts in her overnight bag. Pulling the shirt over her head, Y/N braced herself: one of the supplement’s newest side effects had manifested within the last few days, one that had her showering twice as much, doing twice as much laundry, and taking twice as long to get ready in the morning. 

With gritted teeth, Y/N tossed her jeans into a laundry bag, slowly tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Nose scrunching up, her core throbbed hollowly as she peeled the cotton from it, an excess of wetness pulling away in filmy strings as she inched the panties down her legs. It wasn’t listed on the bottle, but on the supplement’s website, the drug facts listed “increased production of arousal fluids” as one of the things the pills were actually supposed to help with. With a basket full of soiled underpants and a near-constant sensitivity even when she walked, Y/N prayed that the inventor of the supplements got a Nobel Prize shoved up their ass. A grimace turned into a slack jawed mewl when she accidentally dragged her first three fingers through her sloppy folds while shimmying into the new pair of boy shorts, her heart stopping in her chest. 

The pipes were still running, and Seokjin had only been in the shower for about five minutes. Mortified, Y/N held her hand in the air like it was covered in paint, scrambling down the ladder to scrub her skin in the tiny kitchen sink as fast as she could. It wasn’t exactly that she was embarrassed; she was a modern woman who enjoyed sex and sexuality. But a voice inside of her head was ringing the “danger bell”, and she was going to listen to that bell without question. Begging the sky to let her not drench her panties at the next sight of Seokjin, Y/N hastily sat on the made-up sleeper sofa with her legs stretched out and crossed in front of her– like that would actually do anything at all. 

It was an uphill battle, but Y/N steered her thoughts in a purer direction by hoovering her dried mango down and booting up the television. An older television model, the drawn-out process of skipping through previews to get to the movie menu of The Matrix distracted her enough to not think about the heat between her legs, covering her skin, and coming from beneath the bathroom door thanks to Seokjin’s steamy shower. While sipping on her electrolyte drink, Y/N muted the TV so she could chat with her jaguar hybrid for a bit when he came out, blindly reaching for her current read waiting for her on the windowsill. 

Meanwhile, Seokjin had his forehead resting on the tiled shower wall, breathing through bared teeth. As soon as he had stepped into the tiny stall, it hit him all at once, and it was unimaginably difficult to wash his body without collapsing into a puddle of raw nerves. Thankfully, rationality seemed to flee from his mind, so he didn’t have it in himself to be ashamed of the raging erection between his legs. 

Swearing, Seokjin moved swiftly, using a loofah to scrub the sweat from his body, biting down hard on his lip when he’d mop over his sensitive areas. When he hastily massaged shampoo into his tail, he truly thought he was going to orgasm right then and there. The situation was more dire than he could have predicted. 

It didn’t help that when he shut off the tap, he was smacked head-on with arousal-soaked oxygen, and it was not his own. As a last-ditch effort to appear at least somewhat composed, Seokjin tucked his painful erection into a pair of tight boxers, hiked sweats around his wide hips, and said “fuck it” to the concept of putting another shirt on that night. He was already sweating again, fresh out of the shower. Seokjin didn’t know what to do other than give into instinct completely, and without even sparing himself a glance in the mirror, he pushed the bathroom door open with an eerie creak. 

A cool draft momentarily sobered him, goosebumps breaking out over his flesh. His nose picked up on candied mango, jasmine lotion, and the gentle detergent Y/N used on all of the laundry. Apparently, he didn’t make as much noise as he thought, because Y/N didn’t look up from her book, her toes curling as she read and wound a strand of her hair around an index finger. 

She was wearing his shirt. A step, maybe two or three, Seokjin counted, taken from the bathroom to the kitchenette, and he was desperately grabbing for that bottle of water for the umpteenth time that evening. Seokjin never wanted to succumb to baser dispositions, however, it was futile for him to even attempt beating back his instincts. 

“How was your shower, baby? Do you feel better?” Y/N’s siren call had the muscles in his abdomen tensing, the jaguar hybrid squeezing the bottle of water too intensely in response. The force had water spilling over his face like he was waterboarding himself. 

“Mm-hmm,” Seokjin pressed an audible reply between sealed lips, drying off his face with the back of his hand.

From where he had concealed himself in the kitchenette, the jaguar hybrid could observe Y/N clearly, but she could likely only capture a glimpse of the right side of his body. Still reading her book, Seokjin’s eyes glazed over watching one of her feet gliding up the side of her opposite calf indulgently. 

“Are you heating some food up? Bring it over here so you can sit with me, okay?” 

Y/N’s skin was flushed, Seokjin could almost feel her heat signature radiating outwards from where he was lurking. Seokjin was quickly running out of options: he either had to stuff down how he was feeling so he could politely sit beside his mate with dinner and his erection pinned to the waistband of his boxers, or he could pounce. 

“I’m not hungry,” Seokjin’s voice was gritty like sandpaper, and finally, Y/N’s eyes slid from the pages of the infernal book in order to seek out where he was hiding. 

“What are you doing in there, then? Come here,” Y/N’s pitch became whiny, Seokjin’s eyes threatening to roll back into his skull. Stepping into the light and her view, Seokjin watched her pupils dilate, then the way she sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “Oh…”

There was nothing she could do to prevent herself giving him a very purposeful once-over. Seokjin’s ears, neck, and chest were kissed pink and dewy from shower water, his wavy hair still dripping, and his eyes had sharpened into an angular, feline shape. Seokjin had what Y/N would typically describe as an angelically-sweet handsome face, however, it took on something dangerously serious and borderline wicked in that moment. Sans-shirt, the eye was drawn to Seokjin’s infinitesimal waist, grey sweatpants emphasizing the cinch of his middle and the swell to his hips. Y/N had a flash of heat washing over her skin, mouth watering at the sight of the trail of hair leading from his navel into the waistband of his sweats. Daring to drop her eyes even lower, Y/N’s book fell from her hand and off of the sofa bed, Seokjin’s arousal pressing urgently into the fabric of his pants already. Breathing labored, Y/N’s eyebrows knit together, suddenly sympathetic for her jaguar hybrid– he appeared to be in pain. 

“Baby? Is it starting?” Y/N sounded small, Seokjin’s ears twitching and his throat bobbing. 

Before she could make any kind of motion, one of Seokjin’s knees weakened and pressed down onto the mattress, tail curling behind him. There was a pause, Seokjin making a chuffing sound, performing his own visual perusal of her and her body. Accidentally, the shirt she had stolen from him had ridden up to her hips, and though her legs were shut, Y/N knew that Seokjin could smell the heat beginning to gather viciously on the gusset of her boy shorts. Hot and cold, the sweat quickly formed and dried on her skin thanks to the oscillating fans that had her nipples hardening through her shirt. She wanted to be touched, and the thought came so abruptly, all she could do was ogle Seokjin. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Seokjin’s final whisper of concern left his mouth, Y/N shaking her head almost violently once registering. “No? You want me to?”

“O-of course not,” Y/N breathed, though that was somewhat a concealment of the whole truth, which had Seokjin’s head cocking as he sniffed out the white lie. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself holding back…”

Seokjin seemed to weigh options that Y/N could only speculate being about, licking her lips in anticipation. She started to get squirmy, thighs clenching, the movement caught by her keen jaguar hybrid with a narrowing of his eyes and a flare to his nostrils. 

“What’s wrong?”

Seokjin was perfectly aware of what was “wrong”, Y/N had soaked straight through her underwear, and it was likely that his proximity to her triggered an intense reaction thanks to the supplements she took in preparation for his rut. Heart hammering in his chest, Seokjin wanted to play with his food just a little. Experimentally, Seokjin extended his index finger just enough to trace a short line from the sole of Y/N’s left foot to the inside of her ankle: the effect was immediate and satisfying. 

“Fuck,” Y/N yelped pitifully, absolutely astonished that a simple touch to the bottom of her foot caused her core to clench so powerfully, she feared that she had accidentally wet herself. Seokjin’s jaw clenched, strong hand shifting at blinding speed to hook underneath the sensitive back of her knee. “S-seokjin, baby, my skin–”

Her skin was so sensitive, but she could hardly articulate anything intelligible at that point. Seokjin crawled further onto the bed, which creaked with his weight, his head ducking so he could place an open-mouthed path of kisses along her calf. Delirious off of her scent, Seokjin grunted at the concentration of it, surrendering to the desire to make some of his recent fantasies come to life.

With his mate already wanting him so badly, Seokjin’s arm flexed, forcefully lifting her left leg into the air, then pushing it into an arc to the right and pinning it back down on the bed. The action had Y/N flipped onto her stomach, Seokjin eagerly grasping onto her hips to hike her up and onto her knees, chest and face supported by the mattress still.

“Stay just like that for me, alright? I’m gonna take care of you,” Seokjin promised, getting comfortable with half of his body hanging off the sofa sleeper. Though it was his rut, all he cared about was making sure his mate lost her mind in pleasure. “Poor thing. Those supplements turned you into a mess, huh?”

The breath was stolen from Y/N by the speed of which he maneuvered her into a new shape, so she was hardly able to process what Seokjin was saying. His shirt had pooled up around her ribs and exposed her sodden underwear, which Seokjin was about eye-level to by then, no doubt. While trying to calm her breathing pattern, Seokjin didn’t waste any more time, using one hand to bar a forearm of hers across her arched lower back, and the other to yank her boy shorts halfway down her thighs. It was then when Y/N let out a tortured groan, laced with embarrassment, feeling her wetness cling to her thighs and pull away from her cunt in strings. 

“So wet,” Seokjin remarked with awe, and that was the only thing the jaguar hybrid said before his mouth was on her like a starved man, a throaty moan of his rocking through her core.

When Y/N was coherent again days later, she’d swear that she came as soon as Seokjin’s tongue slid through her center, heavily and indulgently, as if he was trying to lick her spotlessly clean. Truthfully, that was exactly what happened– Y/N nearly passed out from the strike of pure, unadulterated pleasure Seokjin offered her happily. 

With a depraved keen of his own, Seokjin pursed his lips, wrapping them around her clit ruthlessly, almost going straight to heaven when she began to spill her arousal over his face. Things happened so quickly and intensely, it was out of the question to think about anything but chasing pleasure.

“A-ah, Ah! O-oh my goddd–” Y/N felt like she was going to die. Blindly and without embarrassment, she reached back to grab onto Seokjin’s hair, simultaneously pressing backwards to grind against his pretty mouth. She had no way of controlling herself, and though she wasn’t a hybrid, she felt something animal clawing its way out from within. “F-fuuuck, baby…”

Seokjin was keeping count of her orgasms so far, and she had had three in the span of under the two minutes of him teasing her with his mouth. Emboldened by her clear enjoyment of his ministrations, Seokjin upped the ante, taking a moment to pull away just a centimeter, using two fingers in the shape of a “V” to splay her open, then plunging his tongue deep into her cunt. It was agonizing, both in how delicious she tasted, and how hard she was coming around his tongue instantly, and the jaguar hybrid believed that he’d let her fuck her hips backwards and onto his face all night if she wanted to. 

Y/N had tears streaming down her face, so desperately horny so quickly it lacked all logic and reason– damn supplements. Just when she thought Seokjin was going to give her a break, he switched tactics: letting go of her forearm, Seokjin had one hand spreading her asscheek away from the other to further lick into her, the other teasing through her folds and pinching at her clit meanly. And the sounds– it was disgusting, pornographic– between her hoarse cries, the slickness of her wet pussy grinding against his face, and the slurping between her legs as her lover ate her out. 

“Holy shit,” Seokjin swore, his boxers suffocating and stained with his own hot sticky mess. Because the fever-induced rut could not be broken so easily, he remained rock solid even after his first untouched orgasm. He’d never felt that way before, breathing heavily against the back of Y/N’s thigh, three fingers deep in her pussy. “Does it feel good, pretty girl?”

Y/N’s brain had left the building. A mantra of more, more, more, looped through her head dumbly, even with Seokjin drilling his long fingers into her with merciless ferocity. It felt good, of course it did, her pitchy wailing hopefully answering Seokjin’s question, but she needed him closer. Her grip on Seokjin’s hair went slack, a fingernail scraping over one of his ears. Seokjin gasped at the feeling, spilling into his boxers again. 

“Fuck, Y/N, my baby…” Seokjin distractedly wrapped an arm around her tummy so his hand could crawl up the front of her shirt, all while pulling her back to his face again to get another taste. Skin almost as hot and slick as his own, Seokjin palmed her right breast, Y/N gathering a mouthful of shirt between her teeth in an attempt to muffle her cries.

“Need you, baby, I’m so hard–” Seokjin hissed, a gush of arousal drenching his hand when he curled his fingers into her G-spot with deadly precision. “God, is this all for me?”

“Please!” 

“Please?” Seokjin muttered, focused on stretching Y/N out enough to pound her into the mattress without harm, his stomach tight with desire. Her legs shook, spine arching deliciously, chasing his fingers pressing into her front wall in timed pulses. “You have to be p-patient, okay, pretty? Just relax.”

“Seokj-jin, please, kiss me,” Y/N begged, hoping he’d let up on her aching center for a couple of moments so she could touch him back. “Please, baby, w-wanna kiss you…”

Seokjin’s heart would actually break if he didn’t give Y/N exactly what she asked for, however, she was interrupting his meal. Collecting himself, he sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of her inner thigh hard enough to imprint his dentition on her skin, soothing the bite with gentle kisses soon after. He continued, shakily, to drag his glossy lips over the curve of her ass, stamping mindless smooches over her hips and lower back, then planting a palm on the bed beside Y/N’s skull in order to support his weight over her pinned-down body. He watched, laser-focused, Y/N struggle to one elbow, somehow easing the shirt she took from him over her head, turning onto one ear so she could get a look at her mate. 

Seokjin was wrecked, doll lips swollen and coated in arousal fluid, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a belabored fashion. Everything about him was damp– his skin, his hair, and startlingly, his pants were sodden as his hips ground downwards against her ass. For a moment, the soundtrack in the room included heavy breathing and the hail beating the roof, Y/N’s eyelids fluttering closed as Seokjin ducked down to brush hair away from the side of her face gently, all while rocking his hips against her like he couldn’t bear to stop. From that angle, even through his ruined boxers and sweats, Y/N could feel him dragging his erection against her, the sensation was as overwhelming as it was dirty. 

“Kiss me,” Y/N repeated, Seokjin chuckling darkly and lowering his lips to her temple. During a particular roll of his hips, Y/N squealed at the heat rubbing against her pussy, briefly forgetting that he hadn’t given her what she asked for yet. “Uh, mmm. D-did you already…?”

“Cum? Yeah, twice,” Seokjin’s breath wafted over her face, smelling like mint and her arousal, an odd but electrifying combination. It was not lost on her that he already came just from eating her out, a pathetic squeak leaving her mouth when he let most of his body weight smother her into the bed. “It’s gonna be a long night, pretty girl. You think you can handle it?”

“Hngh–”

Seokjin was admittedly smug that Y/N was losing control over that brilliant mind of hers, all because of him. Her eyes sprung back open, Seokjin cooing, pinching her jaw delicately to analyze her face with his molten lava stare. With her mouth parted under his grip, Seokjin indulged her, their lips meeting for the first time in what felt like months. 

It was like angels began to sing. Y/N’s palms lost their hold on the sheets causing her to slide completely flat on her front, Seokjin’s lips dancing with hers in perfect synchronization. Curiously, she copied what Seokjin always seemed to do when they made out: she swept her tongue into his open mouth to get a taste of his palate. With a tormented growl, Seokjin kept up with her as best he could, his left hand traveling backwards to grab Y/N’s calf. It took some effort, almost wrestling with her, but without breaking their sloppy kiss, Seokjin managed to lift Y/N back onto her knees with her back arching away his sticky chest again. 

“Mmph– hah–” Y/N’s stamina was stronger than she ever could have predicted; after a handful of orgasms, her limbs weren’t jelly, though that could be attributed to Seokjin holding her up by his forearm linked around her chest. Panting into Seokjin’s mouth, her eyes rolled back into her head as the jaguar hybrid changed the angle of his rutting hips. If the barrier consisting of his damp sweatpants weren’t separating them… “P-please, oh, let me feel you, Jin, please–”

“Love it when you say my name, my sweet little thing,” the voice Seokjin took on was unrecognizable to him, blaming Y/N’s begging on his inability to hold back whatever came next. “Can I have you?”

“Yes, yes, please, baby, please! I’ll be good for you, I swear,” Seokjin was burning up so badly, beads of his sweat were slipping down his chest and raining upon the skin of Y/N’s back. The jaguar hybrid had a mouthful of the skin over Y/N’s shoulder blade in his mouth, sucking a lovebite into the flesh, almost as if it was a last-ditch effort to stave off absolutely ruining her. However, there were days in front of them to draw things out, and Y/N could sense that neither of them could wait any longer. “Jin, please!” 

The pleading was Seokjin’s breaking point. With Y/N under him, her soft, pliable body aching for relief, Seokjin thought of all the things he could do to her, wanted to do for her, and all the things he could give her. Grunting, he was able to tear his sweats off while still kissing the air from his mate’s lungs. In perfect synchronization, both of them had hollow moans mixing together when Seokjin’s cock slotted perfectly between Y/N’s tacky thighs, her juices dripping all over him. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore, Y/N,” Seokjin was throbbing, continuously leaking fluids of his own, and as soon as the tip of his cock glided through her silky folds, a primordial kind of need overtaking him, and there was no way to deny what his inner predator needed. “I– oh shit, my needy girl, my mate, I need to breed you.”

Y/N nodded frantically, mouth completely open as a pass of his tip first caught on her clit, then her entrance, Seokjin’s grip around the base of his cock shaky as he lined himself up as best he could. Still crooked over her, Seokjin’s tail brushed over the side of her thigh, and with one smooth movement, he was hilt-deep in her pussy, and he was a total goner. The sensation of being stuffed to the absolute brim, made blissful thanks to the abundance of lubrication from both of them and Seokjin’s dutiful prepping sent Y/N right over the edge for the fifth time. Convulsing both around Seokjin’s cock and in his arms, she couldn’t hear anything over her own wailing.

Seokjin didn’t move yet, savoring his mate’s release and distantly thankful he didn’t bust himself for a third time so soon– as difficult as it was to hold it back. In fact, the only thing that restrained him was sinking his incisors into the junction between Y/N’s neck and shoulder, the spontaneous scenting ritual dizzying up his lust-addled brain like he had taken a handful of mixed substances. What he was experiencing, he knew, was far better than any manmade drug. 

“There you go, pretty girl, so good. You’re always so good for me, taking me like a saint,” Seokjin’s words were muffled, his tongue sweeping over the bite he gave his mate to mop up her blood, his forearm tightening around her middle as she began to grind her ass against his pubic bone. “God, you’re so desperate, aren’t you? I told you I’d take care of you…”

“Move, please! Need you Seokjin,” Y/N was hiccupping, more tears gathering along her lower lash line, feeling Seokjin in her throat but becoming infuriated that he wasn’t moving. A large hand on her lower back halted her hips from wriggling, and Seokjin’s aura became dark and cunning. 

“What do you need from me?”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes, already impaled on his cock– how else could she spell it out for him?

“F-fuck me.”

“What happened to all those manners?” Seokjin clicked his tongue, though at the same time, he used the placement of his hand on her lower back to push her off his cock a few inches, making her cry out wantonly. “And that’s not what this is. I’m not fucking you.”

“W-what?” Y/N choked, Seokjin tugging her back harshly as the question came out, the soppy sound of her hips colliding with his making the tips of her ears burn. 

“Ask nicely,” Seokjin hummed, Y/N only able to capture a glimpse of how deadly he appeared by turning her head back. He continued, leaning down to lap at the bite he created, then up the side of her sweat-dampened neck. “Ask me to breed you.”

Fuck. Right on cue, Y/N was squeezing Seokjin in a vice, no doubt completely soaking the sheets beneath her knees, and she felt Seokjin spilling precum inside of her. So beyond the point of no return, she locked eyes with her mate, bunching her fists into the pillowcase above her head, doing what was requested of her. 

“Please, Seokjin, breed me, please.”

That was all it took: Seokjin straightened out with a stormy look on his face, and without any other warning, he pulled his hips back to set a brutal rhythm. With each slam of his hips, Y/N sunk further and further into hedonism, her entire body a raw nerve and she feared that Seokjin knew that. Whenever she was scented, her head would get all dizzy, and it had been a few weeks since she had experienced the sensation. It only added to the bliss, Seokjin pistoning into her with rabid abandon, a growly sound punctuating each thrust.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Seokjin moaned, just as intoxicated as his mate. Her scent was at its peak, and as she reached back to grab his hip to aid his ruthless movements, her touch triggered more filth to leave his mouth. “Fuck, g-gonna fill you up…”

“Oh–”

“Yeah? Fill you up so good, put my cubs in you,” Seokjin continued, pressing his slippery chest to her back, first breathing in her floral shampoo and then licking at the shell of her ear. The jaguar hybrid had not a clue whether or not she could hear him as she sobbed and moaned, but he kept talking anyways. “God, wouldn’t you like that? My beautiful mate, carrying our cubs–”

Y/N had to come, and like a mind reader, Seokjin heard her plea. Seokjin squeezed his arm around her chest, Y/N’s nipples scraping against his forearm, and with a calculated pinch to her clit as he slammed into her, and the combination sent her over the edge violently. She shook, babbled, and clamped down on him so tightly that Seokjin yet another one of his own releases. The sheer volume of his release filling her womb with white-hot heat drew out a smaller, but equally bone rattling orgasm, and Y/N wondered just how many times she could come in a row. 

“Holy fuckkk, baby, I love you, I love you so so much,” Seokjin heaved, the fever thrumming through him only lessening a degree or two, still drilling his cum into Y/N’s pussy as far as it could go. “Gonna knock you up, you’re mine, oh–”

Seokjin’s senses were sharp enough to anticipate his mate’s needs, and with the way she was reaching for him with a trembling hand told him she needed to shift positions. She yelped mournfully when Seokjin pulled out, hurriedly preventing any of his seed from leaking out of her with a palm cupped over her swollen cunt. As tenderly as he could, Seokjin used a hold under one of her thighs to ease her onto her back, his heart stopping: she was so gorgeous, covered in glowy sweat, staring up at him like he was her God. 

Giving him the same sort of reverent admiration, Y/N burned the image of his ruined, dirty appearance, down to the mix of fluids coating his pubic bone. Somewhat alarmed, she gawked stupidly at his stiff erection despite, and miraculously, her body told her she was still up for another round. Arms beside her head, her cheeks burned as Seokjin’s eyes roamed all over her naked flesh, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. There was a beat, as if he was figuring out what to do with her next, and then he was grasping for her ankle. 

“Y-you’re still…?” Y/N reached out, wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock, biting her lip at the white fluid that dribbled out in response to her abrupt touch. Seokjin hissed, batting her wrist away gently, all while kissing her ankle bone to distract her. “Fuck, okay, keep g-going, please.”

Maybe it was his past, being an acrobat, but Seokjin so gracefully slung her ankle over one of his shoulders and slid himself back into her spasming core, it was like he never even changed positions in the first place. The angle had stars spotting her vision, the tip of his cock jabbing into the spongy walls of her G-spot, and she discovered flexibility she didn’t know she had when Seokjin leaned forward so her leg was by her ear. 

“Aah! Hnngh, J-jin, baby, I don’t know if I can… I don’t think I can c-cum anymore,” Y/N shuddered, Seokjin’s hot tongue dragging up the side of her face to clean up her tears. 

She wasn’t ready to put up the white flag, and she trusted Seokjin to know her limits, but she was jerking like a fish out of water as he worked her over with a thumb rubbing circles over her clit. 

“Of course you can, pretty, I promised I’d make you feel good, you can take it. We were meant to be together, you’re my mate,” Seokjin soothed, his pace much slower and romantic than it was while he was taking her from behind. “Gotta breed you, Y/N… hold on just a bit longer, hmm?”

Seokjin could feel something building up in his abdomen, a coil tightening so sharply he knew that it would be his last release for that particular stretch of the rut. The body needed rest, a refractory period before the fever spiked again. Swallowing hard, Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat when Y/N cupped a palm over his damp cheek. 

“Let me make you feel good too, baby. I love you,” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, relishing in how he throbbed deep inside of her. Using some force, she pulled Seokjin down further, meeting his lips halfway in a sizzling, slow kiss. “Mmm…”

Tongue gliding over her teeth, Seokjin held his mate close, pumping into her wet heat endlessly. She held onto him, clawing at his broad back, and accidentally, his tail swept over her wrist, and he wasn’t so interested in keeping things so slow anymore with the jolt that struck through him. Y/N bit down on Seokjin’s plush lower lip so she didn’t scream when he began to pound her into the mattress again, and that time, his abdomen was pressing over her clit enough to have her coming nonstop. 

“Ugh, b-baby, oh my god, breathe for me,” Seokjin’s balls tightened, remotely frightened by how hard she was coming. Her expression was unearthly, her spirit floating straight up into space, and with one more harsh kiss to her swollen lips, Seokjin got to his knees to pump into her with all the strength he had left. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

On their own accord, Y/N’s hips lifted with a shuddery movement, Seokjin’s thumbs digging into her soft middle, and then the coil snapped when he heard her chanting strings of I love you. 

Collapsing, Seokjin was on fire and then ice cold, his cock milked by Y/N’s convulsing walls, and he was rambling nonsensically as he came and came and came. To shush himself, he mouthed over his mate’s neck as she clung to him weakly, his seed filling her up so much, she swore she could feel her abdomen swelling with it. As he murmured praise and sweet nothings into her skin, Y/N was both relieved and remorseful that his cock was softening inside of her, the two of them utterly spent for the time being. 

“H-hah, shit… Seokjin, my love, are you okay?” Y/N was the first to speak somewhat normally, not minding the heavy weight of her jaguar hybrid keeping her trapped against the bed. Muscles loose, her ankle slipped from his shoulder and her leg fell to the side, which resulted in some of the fluids between her legs to trickle out and pool onto the sheets. “Talk to me, honey.”

“Mmm…” Seokjin mumbled, rationality coming back together piece by piece. His ears, while always sensitive, weren’t raw, so when the cartilage twitched under Y/N’s jaw, he knew he and his mate had a few hours of reprieve. “I’m perfect. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Seokjin was still inside her, and he was absolutely loath to remove himself in the near future, so he rolled over and took Y/N with him. She winced, only because his cum was starting to roll down her legs in a cold sticky mess, but it was comfortable to lay on his toned chest. His dark eyebrows drew together, tucking hair behind her ear, a sympathetic hand rubbing her back. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” Y/N immediately reassured him, turning her cheek to kiss his thumb, a sly but dopey grin on her face. “I thought it was pretty clear how much I was enjoying myself.”

Seokjin had the audacity to look shy. Slowly, he pulled out of her, both of them wheezing at the sensitivity, while Y/N mustered up energy to reach for a couple of towels she had half a mind to place beside the bed earlier that evening. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Um, yeah. I’ve never cum so much in my life,” Y/N snickered, still coy even though she was just about ready to pass out. “You’re a freak in bed, by the way.”

“Huh?” Seokjin’s eyes went wide, the flush on his face deepening. Y/N flicked the dangling earring hanging from his left lobe, planting a kiss on his jaw. “That was just the rut fever!”

“Nah, you were freaky before that, too. It’s always the quiet ones,” Y/N teased, enjoying the afterglow despite the damp mess they were laying in. They’d wash up in a bit, she told herself. Resting her chin on her forearms, Y/N sobered up. “We haven’t really talked about this yet, but… you want to have a baby one day, right?”

Seokjin turned even redder, though the question didn’t stop him from cleaning her up with one of the towels. Of course, Seokjin knew all about Y/N’s IUD– protection was important to the two of them during that particular stage of their lives. Though, with a kiss stamped between her eyebrows, Seokjin traced the lines of her face, picturing what their children might look like one day. 

“I never thought about it until I fell in love with you,” Seokjin admitted, scooching the two of them over to a section of the sofa bed that wasn’t totally soiled with fluids. “If you wanted one, too, then yes.”

“So that wasn’t just dirty talk,” Y/N booped his nose, the moment light and full of love. “I think we’d make a pretty baby.”

“Of course, they’d be pretty,” Seokjin puffed out his chest, Y/N wobbling on top of him with a giggle. “Because you are pretty.”

“So are you, Seokjinnie,” Y/N kissed him for the millionth time, the pressing of lips light and chaste. Everything was perfect, that was, until a perturbing growl broke the giddy silence: her empty stomach. 

“I thought I told you to eat something,” Seokjin frowned, stern and all-business. “Alright, come on. I’ll get you some pajamas and heat up one of those meals for us, okay?”

“‘M sleepy though,” Y/N complained, even if it was all an act when she yawned when Seokjin shimmied out from underneath her, wrapping a towel around his waist once he was standing. 

“No, you’re not. You’re going to get some food in your stomach while we watch that movie,” Seokjin pointed to the television, which had been soundlessly looping The Matrix’s DVD menu. 

“Yes, sir,” Y/N got to her feet herself, figuring she should freshen up in the bathroom.

Seokjin moved with hybrid speed despite exhausting himself during the first round of his rut, handing Y/N a fresh set of her favorite pajamas. He ducked, giving her one last kiss before they parted, if only for five minutes. 

“Dinner’s in the microwave. Hurry back to me,” Seokjin spoke against her lips, his eyes twinkling. Grinning at each other, Y/N predicted a rather long night ahead of her. 

“Save me a spot, my love.”

“What the fuck is this weather?” Jeongguk dared to peer out of the kitchen slider, milky-colored hail scattering around the stone patio. In the back of his mind, he was sort of grateful for the racket; it distracted him from his thoughts, but any sound that had the slightest possibility of travelling from the guesthouse a few acres away. 

“I believe they call it hail,” Taehyung replied drily, pulling his Chipotle burrito out of the massive bag Yoongi ordered for dinner. The Kodiak hybrid’s suspicions were confirmed from the previous week– no one was treating him like the black sheep anymore, so he was free to eat his dinner with his housemates without feeling like he was up for slaughter. “I’m guessing it didn’t hail in Los Angeles.”

“Not for almost 15 years,” Namjoon confirmed, tone bland, guacamole smeared on his cheek as he ate his burrito over a thick leather-bound book. “They don’t have weather there.”

“Acting like I’m fresh off the boat from L.A., I haven’t been there in three years. It took me a while to hitchhike from that dump,” Jeongguk was never one for mindless chit-chat, but again, he was distracting himself. “You’ve got shit on your face, Joon.”

The wolf hybrid actually growled at Jeongguk all while wiping his face, agitated and scent-dizzy. Without Y/N in the house and without having scented her, Namjoon was forced to steal one of her pillows from her room, smuggling into his bedroom to take painful whiffs periodically. He felt like Jeongguk, taking annoying round-the-clock smoke breaks. 

“What’s his problem?” Hoseok’s mouth was full of rice, sitting across from Namjoon and playing a phone game. “Wait, I’ll guess. The moon's full.”

“Not until next week,” Jimin was tapping his foot, perched on a barstool beside Yoongi. While the older leopard hybrid was calmer since shifting, Jimin’s nerves were on the rise ever since the previous afternoon. 

“I don’t have a problem, Foxy. I’m just praying she doesn’t get hurt out there,” Namjoon set his book down, a deep frown on his face. 

“Uh… she’ll be fine. Jinnie loves her, you know,” Hoseok spoke leisurely, like he was speaking to a child. 

“That really doesn’t mean–”

“Please don’t tell me you were going to say that love doesn’t mean anything,” Jimin snapped, shocking every other hybrid in the room, considering everything started as a somewhat normal conversation. It was so startling, in fact, that Hoseok dropped his burrito unceremoniously, which punctuated the silence. “Your view of love exhausts me. How do you live like that?”

“Whoa, Jimin,” Yoongi put his hands up, wondering if there would come a day that a spat wouldn’t happen. Jimin’s yellow eyes flashed, his normally easygoing features turning steely. It was actually quite frightening to behold. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just tired of his nonchalance,” Jimin pointed at Namjoon, then at Jeongguk, too, for good measure. He stood, starting to pace, his sandy tail swishing at a blinding speed thanks to his agitation. “You two are emotionally constipated and make it everyone else’s problem.”

“Gee, thanks, fuckface. No one asked,” Jeongguk prodded the flames, Jimin pinching the bridge of his nose to gather his sanity. “It's true, just because Seokjin loves her, doesn’t mean he can’t hurt her.”

“He won’t,” Hoseok joined in on the argument, while Taehyung and Yoongi remained quiet, hoping for things to blow over as soon as they began.

“Like I said, just because he loves her–”

“Is it because you hurt her with your words frequently that you believe that?” Jimin interrupted the elk hybrid, on a bit of a rampage. Jeongguk gaped at him with a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. “You should speak for yourself, not others.”

“Wait, what?” Namjoon scoffed, not computing what the coyote hybrid was actually getting at. 

“Why can’t you just admit you love her?” Jimin exploded, though really, it was a result of bottling up his own emotions for too long. “Clearly, you do. Both of you do.”

“And you, Jimin? You’re flinging around a lot of accusations, but why don’t you speak for yourself?” Namjoon challenged Jimin, getting up and in the shorter hybrid’s face. The coyote hybrid didn’t back down, though, and the remaining hybrids braced themselves for impact. “You admit it.”

“Fine. I love her,” Jimin spat through gritted teeth, but saying it out loud set him free. “I’m in love with her, and I won’t be ashamed to admit that anymore. Can you say the same?”

Again I am not PAID to write upwards of 20k words of fanfiction. My work is up on multiple platforms for all to read free of cost.

I am 27 years old and I have a life in the real world - creative projects that I want to turn into an actual career to sustain myself.

Again: Writing fanfiction is A HOBBY of mine!!!!!!

I spend upwards to a year - because YES, it DOES take me that long to write something that I'm not hinging my livelihood on - to write these stories. If you are a creative person like me you'll know that the projects that are most important to you are the ones you have the energy to create - right now, for me, it is not fanfiction that takes the top priority.

I have two more points here that I'll make:

1. I'm at the point now where if you're in my inbox or on Wattpad asking for updates or when they're gonna come I'm just gonna delete your inquiry or you're gonna be hit with the "girl it ain't coming!!!" Use some context, please guys 😭 Please note the rate at which the chapters have been coming out the past couple of years- obviously I'm not churning them out monthly like I was YEARS ago when I had the time for it.

2. I love you guys. Your support has meant everything, and I cannot thank you enough for reading my stories. I wish to keep writing and complete the stories, but please understand that it has to be at my own pace.

I understand frustration. I understand binge reading and wanting that instant gratification of another update. But I'm a human being. Trouvaille is nearly the size of WAR AND PEACE - that's a lot of words to guzzle down and process before coming up for air and asking for more, that's YEARS of my writing! Please consider that before asking me to pull another chapter out of thin air... it really makes me sad........ like did you even internalize what you read....

Kind words have meant everything to me, as well as love for the boys and the fics AND giggling about them on this blog. I'd love to be able to keep doing this, but logging on every time and seeing my inbox flooded with people annoyed that there's not a new chapter every week sucks the fun right out of it. Again, this is a hobby that I turned to when I don't wanna write songs anymore!!! it shouldn't be like that!!! like let's have fun again please 😭