Untitled

After his possession, they believed Will’s ties to the Mind Flayer had been severed. That, however, proved to be untrue the following summer when Will felt its presence regain strength as the Gate was reopened. Then, after their battle against the solid form of the Mind Flayer at Starcourt, they hoped the monster was done and gone for good. But nothing could ever be that simple, not for them, at least. A piece of the Mind Flayer had infected Henry Creel long before it got its hands on Will. That piece of the Mind Flayer was very much alive inside of the man-turned monster, and a piece of it still lingered inside of Will too. It was those two pieces that connected Will to Vecna, both of them having been infected by it. 

Mike called what happened to Will inside the Void ‘hijacking.’ Will’s mind had been momentarily hijacked by Vecna, allowing the monster to control him. Why Vecna used Will to go after Luke specifically, no one was sure of. El had more history with both the Mind Flayer and Henry, but Luke had posited that it was because El was the harder target. If Vecna had been recovering after their fight over a year ago, that would make sense. 

Will was clearly terrified of getting hijacked outside of the Void and hurting someone else. He was so gentle, too kind for all that he’d been through. The weight of hurting Luke was heavy on his shoulders. Yet, his friends kept him from crumbling. They showed through their actions that they weren’t scared of Will. They wanted to help him. They needed to. Finding Vecna before he found them again was the only way they knew how to do that. 

But the monster, even after finally showing his face after over a year, was still elusive. They hoped that Crawl would bring them closer, but it was so uncertain; everything was so uncertain. 

“The Old Man is en route!” said Robin over the radio. She and Tamera were on lookout duty that night, a task usually done by Lucas and Mike, but the two wanted to stay close to Will that night, so the girls volunteered for the job. They watched from the top of the church's bell tower, which gave the perfect view into the military base, for Hopper to sneak into one of the cargo trucks for a ride into the Upside Down. 

Over Sunshine’s shoulder, Nancy tapped her foot against the concrete floor repeatedly as her eyes were glued to her watch. She knew, down to the second, the amount of time it took for one of the cargo trucks to pass through the Gate hidden behind the walls of the base, and to travel the route to what they recently figured out was to the Upside Down base. Hopper would jump out of the truck not long after passing through the Gate and trek to the section he was set to search during that Crawl. 

According to the information that Murray was able to, somehow, get his hands on, the delivery of supplies would take an hour. That gave Hopper just enough time to search the next square on their map for any sign of Vecna. 

A couple of minutes passed before Dustin’s voice sounded from the radio. 

“We got him. Headed west now. Over.” 

Everyone let out a collective breath of relief. Sunshine glanced down at Anne, whose gaze flickered around the room in curiosity. 

“Now we wait,” Nancy said more to herself than anyone. She pulled up a chair on the other side of Sunshine and sat, drawing Anne’s attention. Nancy greeted her with a small smile and wave. “Someone’s up late.” 

Sunshine sighed. “Someone doesn’t like to be left out of all the excitement.” Anne refused to sleep when the basement was full of people. It was like she knew something was going on and she didn’t want to miss out. Even when Sunshine or anyone tried to get her to go to sleep upstairs, in the dark and quiet, Anne fussed until she was back in the action. Sunshine supposed it was a good thing she liked being around people, but she could see the little girl fighting off sleep with each passing minute. 

“Holly used to be like that,” Nancy said. “She still can be, sometimes.” A small frown formed on her lips, and she shook her head. “I thought all of this would be over before she was old enough to ask questions about what is wrong with this place.” 

Sunshine shifted in her seat, facing Nancy. “She’s asking questions?” 

“How could she now?” Nancy replied, a humorless laugh punctuating her sentence. “She rides her bike to school every morning with Will and Mike, past a military base where the library used to be. She asked to go to our aunt’s house on Lake Michigan for her birthday this year, but our mom had to explain why we aren’t allowed to leave town yet.” She paused and lowered her voice so only Sunshine could hear her. “Her room is between Mike’s and mine. How do you explain to your little sister why you and your brother wake up screaming sometimes?” 

Sunshine’s heart ached as she took in the sadness in her friend’s face. Using her free hand, not holding Anne, and grasped Nancy’s and squeezed it in what little reassurance she could offer. “You can’t,” she said. “But you’re doing everything you can to protect her so she doesn’t do the same. That’s something, Nancy.” 

With a tired sigh, Nancy leaned sideways into Sunshine, resting her head on the girl’s shoulder. “I wish I could have protected Mike from it.” 

“You’re trying to keep him safe now. You’ve been trying since this whole thing started.” 

“It wasn’t enough.” 

Sunshine rested her head against Nancy’s. “It has to be,” she said. “It’s hard protecting the people we love, especially when they want to protect you and their friends just as badly.” 

Nancy just hummed in response. There wasn’t much else to say. They all were in an impossible space, trying so hard to save the people they loved, with no real guarantee it’ll work. 

“Shit!” A loud hiss startled Sunshine upright. From across the room, Leia nearly tripped over her shoes as she moved toward the desk. A box of tissues sat on the corner, and Leia hastily grabbed a handful. A small drop of blood stained the front of her white shirt. 

“Are you okay?” Sunshine asked her sister. Leia nodded as she pressed the tissue against her nose. 

“Did you just use your powers?” asked Nancy. 

Leia hesitated before she nodded again. “Mike, uh, startled me. I slipped for a second.” 

‘Slipped’, as in lost brief control of her abilities. But Sunshine hadn’t noticed the lights flicker or the radio crackle with static, which was often a result of Leia using her abilities, accidentally or intentionally. Maybe Sunshine just missed it. 

Wiping the last bit of blood from her nose, Leia tossed the tissue into the waste basket and hurried back to the kids without another word. 

Sunshine’s attention was pulled onto Anne as she let out a whinny cry. “Well, if you didn’t fight sleep so hard, we wouldn’t be crying, now, would we?” she said as she stood up from her seat and headed upstairs with the hope of finally getting Anne to sleep for the night. 

The Crawl had been a success in terms of a smooth entrance and exit for Hopper, but he cleared another square of their map without finding anything. 

About halfway through the Crawl, Sunshine got Anne to fall asleep and eventually returned her to her crib after the basement cleared out. 

Steve stayed behind after returning, and he and Sunshine enjoyed a rare moment alone on the rooftop. 

The night had long settled in, and the chill of fall was making itself at home. Sunshine had changed into a set of pajamas that Steve had brought from her house. Her mom had packed her a bag, complete with a container of cookies and another letter. They’d been exchanging letters since Sunshine’s return, which mostly consisted of her reassuring her parents that she was alright. 

The soft t-shirt she wore didn’t exactly protect her from the dropping temperatures, but she was too comfortable with her head resting in Steve’s lap to get up. An involuntary shiver ran through her, which he noticed immediately; Steve had been keeping a close eye on her since she returned. He shrugged off his zip-up and placed it over her like a blanket. 

She gazed up at him, his hair gently getting messy by the breeze and his features more relaxed than usual. “Now you’re going to be cold,” she said. 

He shook his head, lifting his chin to the starry sky like he was taking in the cool weather happily. “Nah. I’m not the one shivering.” 

The scene felt normal. So normal that Sunshine almost felt like she hadn’t been gone. It was in moments like that one where she could almost forget. But then she became very aware that she couldn’t feel the tickle of hair on the back of her neck, and phantom pain crept through her bones. The memories were like greedy hands, eager to take hold of her and drag her right back under water. 

A soft sigh fell from her lips before she could stop it. 

“What’s on your mind, my Sunshine?” asked Steve, his voice impossibly soft. She wanted to melt into him. 

“I just wish I felt more like myself. I think I could do more if I did.” 

Steve brought his hand to the side of her face, holding her with a gentle touch. “You don’t need to do any more than you already are,” he said. “No one expects more from you.” 

“I know. But I do.” 

He was quiet for a moment; his face pinched in deep thought. He moved his hand from her face and patted her shoulder, prompting her to sit up. Sunshine watched him with a curious gaze as he grabbed a bag of candy they had brought to the roof to snack on. He pulled off the zip tie that kept the bag closed, and with a look of intense concentration, he twisted it into a loop before he held it up. 

“What’s that?” 

“A promise,” he said simply. “After this is all over, and there’s no more evil governments after us or mind-screwing monsters, you, Sunshine, will never feel like the whole world is on your shoulders. That’s my promise to you.” 

Tears welled up in her golden eyes. She wasn’t sure that was really something he could promise, but the sincerity on his face and in his voice gave her no choice but to believe him. She chuckled wetly as she gazed at him with all the love in her heart. 

“That’s a big promise.” 

“Yeah, well, if there’s anyone who deserves a big promise, it’s you.” He shrugged, like what he was saying was so casual, so easy. “You have me, Sunshine. Forever. If you want me.” 

Sunshine was quick to throw her arms around him, and he wasted no time embracing her back. He held her with both a gentleness and a fierceness, like he wasn’t going to let someone take her again. Sunshine felt safe with him; she always had, even in the most dire of situations. And he saw her, really saw her, not as some marvel of science, but a marvel of a girl who loved him. 

“I want you forever, Steve,” she whispered into his shoulder. 

“Whew,” he breathed out before he laughed, almost nervously. 

He leaned back with a smile that was contagious. With the zip tie still pinched between his fingers, he held it out to her. “What do you say? If the world doesn’t end here soon, want to marry me?” 

Sunshine couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past her lips, something so young and sweet. They really were just two kids, nearing the end of the teenage years with far too much baggage. And while Sunshine had spent most of her childhood not feeling like a kid, with Steve, it came back to her. Around him, she was that little girl running wild and free, not scared of what lurked in the woods or hid in the treetops. No, with him, she was the little girl who climbed the branches toward the sky and picked wildflowers. She wanted to feel like that forever, and with him, she would. 

“Of course I do.” 

He beamed brighter than the moon overhead and slipped the zip tie ring onto her left hand’s ring finger. It was an odd shape and silly; it was perfect. 

“If my mom knew I just proposed to you with a zip tie, she’d kill me,” he joked. “I promise, I’ll find you a real ring, something almost as pretty as you.” He leaned forward, still holding her hand, and pressed a kiss to her nose. 

With a shake of her head, Sunshine grasped the sides of his face and kissed his lips under the twinkle of stars that seemed to push their way out from behind the cloud cover just for them. 

Sunshine could have fallen asleep on the roof, lying with her head on Steve’s chest and his hand tracing patterns on her back. The rhythmic thump of his heart lulled her eyes to a close, but as the early hours of the morning neared, they knew they needed to get some actual sleep somewhere a little more comfortable. 

They stood to their feet and readied to head back inside. The night had grown even colder. Sunshine had slipped her arms into Steve’s zip-up and went to keep her hands warm in the pockets, but she touched something inside the right pocket. 

She pulled out what she thought was just a piece of trash, a crumpled-up napkin. But before she could shove it back into the pocket, she noticed smudges of red that stained the napkin. 

Steve paused at the door to the roof and made a face when he saw what she was looking at. “Oh, gross. Sorry,” he said. “Dustin’s nose started bleeding on our Crawl tonight, and I knew if I left the trash behind, I’d get an earful from Robin. I meant to throw that away.” 

“Dustin got a bloody nose?” Sunshine said, unable to hide the rush of panic from flooding her face. 

“He said it’s from when those assholes roughed him, Lucas, and Mike up,” Steve said, attempting to ease her growing worry. 

She glanced back down at the napkin dotted with blood. “He’s sure?” 

Steve nodded. “He sounded pretty sure, yeah.” He held out his hand, and she passed off the napkin. “Don’t worry, I’m keepin’ an eye on him. I promise." 

With a nod, she followed him back inside the radio station. 

[...]

Mike tried not to roll his eyes as he lifted a full bag of garbage from the trashcan, but it was a reflex he couldn’t help. His dad made some dry comment about him finally helping out around the house. The chores around the house had doubled since the Byers started crashing with them, but Mike didn’t mind that part. What he hated was how his dad liked to act like he did nothing to help because he forgot to take the trash out a couple times. God forbid it slipped his mind between school and trying to stop some fucking monster from ending their world. 

If the Byers weren’t there, Mike probably would have shot back with some shitty comment that got him sent to his room, or one of those looks from his mom that made his stomach hurt with guilt. But Joyce was helping Karen wash dishes, and both women were actually smiling as they chatted. Jonathan was teasing Nancy about her choice of movie that she had picked out from their subpar collection, and they both looked a little less tense than they had in a while. And Will was pretty enthusiastically helping Holly draw her very own D&D character. 

Mike had coined the name for her character one night when he and Will were doing homework downstairs, and Holly came down to annoy them. Instead of telling her to get out, Will started asking her about school, which led to Holly excitedly talking about some made-up game her and her friends played at recess. Will said she and her friends would probably like D&D once it stopped being basically outlawed and deemed ‘satanic.’ 

Holly insisted on coming up with her own character, and Mike gave in to join the conversation. After some back and forth, they settled on Mike’s name suggestion of Holly the Heroic. He promised to paint her a figurine after she drew out what she wanted. 

It was weird, but the extra three people brought a sense of peace to the Wheelers’ household; chaotic peace, if that was even a thing. It was enough to make Mike not bitch back to his dad. Instead, he started to haul the garbage toward the garage. 

Outside, it was as if summer had stepped over the edge of a cliff, sending the temperatures plummeting. The concrete floor of the garage was cool against Mike’s bare feet as he stepped through the side door of the garage to where the bins sat beside the house. 

The wind had picked up too, causing the lid of the bin to smack against the siding of the garage after he lifted it. Mike cringed at the noise before he tossed the bag inside and closed the lid. 

Before he stepped back into the garage, he heard his name being called around the side of the home and toward the driveway. 

Despite his lack of shoes and jacket, he followed the noise. 

“Will?” he called out, spotting his friend in the middle of the driveway with his back to Mike. “What’re you doing?” When Will didn’t respond, a shiver ran down his spine, and not because of the cool air. 

Since the trip to the Void with El, Luke, and Will, Mike had been on edge, along with everyone else. He’d been watching Will closely, worried that something would happen to him. 

What if Vecna got a hold of Will again and made him do something Will would never even think about? What if the monster cursed Will like he had Max? What if…?

There were too many ‘what ifs’ that swirled around Mike’s head that he didn’t want to think about. 

He called Will’s name again as he started to walk down the driveway toward him. He only managed to take a couple of steps before Will broke out running. Confusion halted Mike’s movements for a second before he took off after him. 

The asphalt stung the bottoms of the bare feet as he followed Will down the road, but he didn’t slow. It wasn’t until Will reached the end of the road, a couple of houses down from the Wheeler’s, did Will finally stopped, allowing Mike to catch up. 

“Will?” Mike called out again, but when Will didn’t respond, he closed the short distance between them and grasped Will’s shoulder. 

However, the second Mike’s fingers grazed the fabric of Will’s shirt, he finally turned around. 

Mike’s eyes went wide as he stumbled backwards. The person in front of him wasn’t the Will he knew then, but rather the Will he had once known. The Will in front of him was shorter and skinnier. His eyes and cheeks were sunken in, almost like he was hollow inside. Blood and dirt were smeared against his pale skin, and he had his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. 

Will’s cracked and bloodied lips parted before he spoke in a higher-pitched and sadder voice. “It got me.” 

Inside his chest, Mike’s heart thundered, and nausea rose in his throat. “T-This isn’t real,” he whispered. He had left his backpack discarded on his bedroom floor, where he kept his Walkman in case something exactly like what was happening happened. They all kept them close, but Mike hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t gotten a bloody nose or nightmares any more intense than the ones he’d had since he was twelve. His head only hurt when he listened to the kids in his classes ask stupid questions or when his dad tried to talk to him about golf. Had he missed something? 

The younger version of Will frowned and tilted his head to the side as he peered upward at Mike. “It was real for me,” he said, his voice growing bitter with each word he said. “Did you even care, Mike?” 

“What?” he sputtered, feeling hot and cold at the same time. He knew he was being screwed with, but it felt so real. So, so real. “Of course I cared.” 

Will was silent for an excruciating moment before he took a step toward Mike. “Do you still?” 

Before Mike could respond, Will’s appearance shifted before his eyes. Instead of the younger version of Will, Mike was staring at the current version of Will, taller and not as ghostly. Still, there was something unsettling about that Will, the way his gaze was sharp, like all of the softness that made up Will had been taken out. 

“Of course I do,” Mike said after a beat, finding his voice, even if it was shaky. He tried to reach out to Will again, to see if he was real, but Will jerked backward as Mike had slapped him. His face was suddenly painted with hurt, a look that made Mike feel sick.

Then, Will shook his head, eyes glassy. “You’re scared.” 

Of monsters. Of the world ending. Of himself. 

Mike’s eyes gathered with tears too, mirroring Will’s expression. He wanted to shake his head, tell Will he was wrong, but Mike felt stuck. He was scared. 

Taking another step back, Will sighed. He turned back around, and Mike suddenly snapped out of his frozen state. He lurched forward toward Will, trying to grab him before he walked away again. But instead of grabbing Will’s shoulder, Mike’s hand went right through him. He was thrown off balance and fell forward, catching himself with his hands as he fell against the road. A sharp sting spread across his palms as the skin was peeled back. That feeling, however, came second to the sting that spread through his chest. A cry broke through his lips so sudden and sharp it startled even him. 

Then, the sudden feeling of a hand on his back caused him to scream. The hand didn’t move, though. Shook his shoulder. He blinked, and the empty road in front of him was replaced by the concerned expression of Nancy. He grabbed her forearms, ensuring that she was solid and real. Once he was only somewhat sure of that, he fell forward into her, burying his head in her chest as he continued to cry. 

“Oh, Mike,” she said softly, holding onto him tightly. 

He flinched as something was slipped over his ears, but his body relaxed slightly when he realized it was a pair of headphones. Music flooded through his head. 

I would say I’m sorry

If I thought that it would 

You start in the living room, with the large semicircle of couches and the wraparound windows showing the lush greenery outside. There’s an abundance of houseplants and tall, full bookshelves, with comfy looking chairs to match.

Then they lead you through the hall to the various rooms on the ground floor. There’s the infirmary room where Jin took you when you first arrived, and an open yet warm bathroom with a magnificent tub.

At the back of the house, there’s a room completely full of bookshelves and papers, with a desk and a few plush armchairs.

Then there’s a very large room filled with all sorts of strange objects: jars and beakers of all sizes, racks of dried herbs, cauldrons and vials of shimmering liquid, odd plants that you don’t recognize, leather-bound books scrawled with swirling runes. And connected to that room, a sizable greenhouse with crawling vines clinging to the walls.

It’s all so overwhelming, you can’t process all of it.

They lead you up the wide, curling staircase in the main room, and down the long hallway to a number of bedrooms. They all look completely different. One is warm, cozy, and cluttered, while another is sleek and modern and clean.

There’s a room painted all green and gold, plants crowding the space like a small jungle. And a bedroom at the end of the hall that’s almost as large as the living room. There’s a number of bathrooms, all as different as the bedrooms, and a sizable home gym.

They all hesitate at one room, though. It’s near the end of the hall, the door closed. They look at each other, expressions unreadable, and skip over it.

Jin has told you that you’re welcome in all the rooms, but you take it that you’re not allowed in that one.

You already know that you’re going to get lost here, barely remembering what each room looks like let alone where it is. But you doubt that you’ll be here long enough for it to matter.

They tell you that they have a number of pets, and they ask if you want to meet any of them.

Hesitant, all you do is nod, not sure what else to respond with.

It earns a smile from all of them, even Taehyung.

Back in the living room, Jimin leaves briefly and returns with a ginger cat in his arms. Tail swishing, the cat perches in the crook of his elbow as its amber eyes scan the room. Its nose twitches, face upturned to sniff the air.

Then its eyes land on you, and the cat jumps out of Jimin’s arms and scurries across the room.

The men blurt out a handful of warnings, either to the cat or you, it’s hard to tell. But the next second the cat is jumping up your leg and clinging to your chest.

There’s the pinprick of its claws, but you hardly notice it. Because some instinct makes your arms curl protectively around the animal. The rumbling of its purring reverberates through your chest. The cat nuzzles into your neck, paws clinging to the sleeves of your sweater.

A strange feeling floods your brain. Warm and tingly, it makes something burn behind your eyes.

You nuzzle into the cat's soft fur with only the slightest hesitation. Something nags at the edge of your mind, something that you can't grasp no matter how hard you try.

Jimin appears at your side, a near-blinding smile across his stunning face.

"His name is Fish Sticks," he says with a slight chuckle, scratching behind the cat's ears.

You’re fairly certain you would die for Fish Sticks.

The cat doesn’t let go. The rumble of his purring is the most soothing sound you’ve heard in a while.

The men exchange a few words, but you miss them, too focused on the cat and the pleasant feeling that its presence produces. It's almost like this little creature is a beacon of warmth, radiating throughout your entire being.

All of a sudden, you get the sense that one of the men is addressing you, judging from the silence in the air.

A quiet, hesitant noise comes out of your throat, a sound that's questioning and apologetic.

But the man called Namjoon just smiles in response.

"I said that our next step is probably a comprehensive exam at the clinic. Is that alright with you?"

His voice is nothing but calm, eyes watching you with a seemingly infinite amount of patience.

"Joon, she might want to take it easy for a few days," the thin dark-haired man says, you think his name is Hoseok.

"Yeah, there are still a lot of things to get used to," Jimin supplies helpfully, sending you a concerned glance.

You turn to Jin, unsure of what to do next.

"It's entirely up to you, love. Whatever you're the most comfortable with," he says, and his eyes look like pools of honey.

The cat seems to have calmed you significantly, because you look around the room and meet most of their eyes, trying to assess their expressions. They're all a mixture of tension, concern, friendliness, and some unknown emotion that you can't pin down.

"Exam?" you say to no one in particular, an uncertain question hanging in the air.

"Yes, it would just be a standard checkup at my main office. And then a few basic tests, just to see where you're at. I would facilitate everything, and you won't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Jin says.

"So, it would..." you start, trailing off.

"It would see if we can possibly restore some of your memories," Namjoon finishes.

You don't know how to feel about that. Memory has become a very strange thing. You don't have many, and you're not sure how many you want to regain.

Another look around the room. Jimin has that same warm, calm expression on his face. You don't know why, but you trust him. The muscular one, Jungkook, is watching you with those wide brown eyes, his face a complete contrast from the rest of his body. Hoseok and Yoongi have stern expressions, but when your gaze meets theirs, it softens. And Jin and Namjoon are waiting patiently for your answer.

These men have show you more kindness that you've ever known. The least you can do is speed up the healing process so you can get out of their hair.

You look at Jin and nod. He smiles and nods back.

You sit in the living room as they all make preparations to go into town. The cat shifts out of your arms but lingers at your side, nuzzling against you every so often.

Jin and Namjoon came to breakfast dressed in suits, looking ready to leave for work. Now they shuffle in and out of the room, packing papers and books into leather cases. The rest of the men disappear into the kitchen or down the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoongi approaches you with a pile of clothing in his arms.

"It's cold outside, you should bundle up," he says, sounding a little shy in spite of himself. He helps you shrug on a wool cardigan and then a rainproof jacket on top, given the dark clouds outside.

He sets down some thick socks and a pair of fur-lined boots by your feet, and he drops to his knees just as you're reaching for them.

Taken aback, you freeze as he gently takes your right foot and slips the sock on, then the left, then the boots.

You're almost too stunned to move, completely shocked by the act of humble kindness. In the facility, some of the guards used to force you to lick the underside of their boots, and now this man, who is almost too beautiful to look at directly, is touching your feet.

He even ties the laces for you, looking up at you with a quiet smile after he's done.

A few moments later, Jungkook approaches and hands you a colorful handheld bag.

"It's a bit of a long drive, so we packed you some snacks in case you get hungry," he says.

Again, you're stunned into silence, the lunch pack hanging limp in your hand.

You mutter out a "thank you." It comes out squeaky.

Jin slings his leather bag over his shoulder and runs a hand through his hair.

"Alright, we're all set. Ready to go?" he asks, holding out a hand.

You swallow down the fear that comes with a new environment, nodding as you take his hand. He rewards you with a radiant grin, leading you to the door.

Just before you reach the front entrance, a voice breaks through the silence.

"You'll come back, right?"

Turning around, you don't realize that it was Taehyung who said it until you meet his strangely desperate expression from across the room. And you realize that he's speaking to you directly.

Something seizes in your chest when you see the urgency in his face, the hidden sadness in his eyes. It makes you want to reassure him.

"Yes," you reply, and this time your voice comes out strong.

It seems to soothe him, for some reason, because his shoulders visibly relax and something unspoken passes between the two of you.

"We won't be gone too long," Namjoon says to the rest of them, opening the front door and letting in a gust of chill air.

The front door is massive, yet it swings open easily. A stonework pathway extends beyond it, winding under a wooden trellis draped with vines.

Entering into the yard, you realize that this is the first time you've been outside since...longer than you can remember. The two men lead you down the walkway to a driveway lined with a handful of vehicles ranging in size.

Jin opens the backdoor to a sleek black car, gesturing you inside. You slip into the backseat as Jin slips into the driver's seat and Namjoon in the passenger's side.

Jin starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Namjoon's knee. The few pale rays of sunlight peeking through the thick cloud cover catches on his watch.

The car weaves through a twisting road downhill, lined with lush trees that create a dark green canopy overhead.

"I'm sure you have questions," Jin says, expertly navigating the vehicle down the steep road in the rainy weather. "Feel free to ask away."

You do have questions, a million of them, but you're not sure where to start. Your curiosity snags on their professional clothes.

“What do you do?” you ask hesitantly, hoping it isn’t too invasive of a question. Little did you know, they would let you live inside their brains like a parasite if you asked.

“I’m a trauma specialist,” Jin answers humbly, as if being a doctor is commonplace. “And Namjoon teaches at Duchanne University. He's working on his second book now, too."

He throws a proud glance in Namjoon's direction, and the other man rolls his eyes with a shy smile that you never could've pictured on his face.

The car is approaching the mountainside, with all its moss-covered rocks and lush trees hanging overhead, and the three of you plunge into a tunnel carved into the dark rock.

There's a few moments of darkness, and then a strange tingling sensation through your entire body. You wouldn't be surprised to find that this cave was laced with magic.

Then, you're emerging from the tunnel with a burst of pale light. Fog rolls over the hills in thick blankets, and you can see the road winding down the mountain.

In one way, it reassures you that this is a safe place, protected by the magic in the caves and the privacy of the forest. In another way, it would make it a lot harder if you ever needed to flee on foot.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"To a clinic in Burkwood, it's the closest city. If there's anything else you want, we can pick it up there too," Jin says, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.

You can't imagine what else you could possibly want. They've already shown you more kindness and generosity than you've ever known.

The drive proceeds in comfortable silence, the car rocking as it slopes down the winding roads. You have more questions, but you can't seem to think of what to start with. Your body feels heavy, and your eyelids are starting to disobey you.

They mentioned that it was a bit of a long drive, but you are too focused on keeping awake to notice much.

You vaguely register the outskirts of a town that give way to brick streets and old-looking buildings, all enrobed in thick ivy. In fact, the whole area seems to be enveloped in greenery, probably thanks to the frequent rain.

And the rain is picking up now. It makes the sidewalks, littered with fallen leaves, slick with it. Passerbys open up their umbrellas as the lampposts light up to illuminate the foggy landscape.

You're fighting the urge to drift off into sleep as Jin drives on.

Soon, you come to a wide square of cobblestoned streets, lined with grand domed buildings with rich architecture. You can still see people riding their bikes along the rain-slick streets.

Jin pulls over, sneaking a peck on Namjoon's cheek. Namjoon has gathered his bags, his glasses on, and he beams at the gesture.

"See you later, honey," Namjoon says as he glances at both you and Jin, and it's unclear who he's directing the pet name to.

He opens the door and exits with his bag in tow. You watch him walk towards one of the beautiful old buildings and disappear inside.

A short while later, Jin parks the car beside a large sleek white structure, opening the door for you and offering a hand. He stops to look at you before you enter the building.

"There will be a lot of people inside," he begins. "I won't let anyone hurt you. If you want to leave at any point, just let me know, okay?"

You manage a nod.

"Would you like me to hold your hand?" He asks, and this time you shake your head. Because no, that would be pathetic, and you hardly know him.

He justs nods in understanding, offering a small smile before leading you inside.

The smell of disinfectant immediately hits you. Gloves, plastic, metal. Needles. Doctors.

It screams the same thing in your brain: pain is coming.

And Jin was right, there are a lot of people in here. Too many bodies, too many movements and smells.

Before you even realize what you're doing, you've grabbed Jin's hand.

He stops in his tracks, looking at you in shock, and you look almost as shocked as him.

You're about to rip your hand away, but he gives you a comforting squeeze and this time he smiles so warmly his eyes crease.

Somehow, the feel of his skin feels good, despite everything. It grounds you.

The feeling in your chest hitches.

You're able to ignore the countless sights and smells around you with Jin's hand in yours, even as you hear him talking to other people and leading you down hallways.

Probably because the sleep deprivation is making it hard to even keep your eyes open.

You're shuffled through exam rooms, allowing them to check your vitals, answering the questions directed at you, though all you're able to offer is a nod or shake of the head. Jin catches on to it and reframes all questions towards you as ones that can be answered with yes or no.

You're hooked up to electrodes and wires, undergoing multiple scans in different machines.

It makes you wish you were a machine. Things would be much easier that way.

You can see several nurses talking to Jin in hushed tones, glancing in your direction every so often. Jin replies, though you can't hear it, and then the nurses look at you with pure pity in their eyes.

You remember what Jin said earlier. We protect people like us.

Sometime later, after using a considerable amount of your energy to keep from falling asleep standing up, you and Jin are led into a room with x-ray prints all along the walls.

It takes you a long time to realize the scans are of your brain, and that they're talking about you.

The doctor is pointing to different sections of the brain on the scans, but her words are muffled in your ears.

All you can register is the look on Jin's face. It's a mixture of sorrow, pain, and regret.

The only sense you can make of it is to assume that he's disappointed that you won't be out of his hair faster.

Maybe you're too far gone to be fixed. Maybe all the goods part of you died in the facility.

You're silent in the car, staring out at the darkening skies. The clouds have gotten thicker, unleashing a heavy rain. As you return to the old buildings from earlier, people hurry by under their umbrellas.

Namjoon open the passenger door, using his suit jacket as a shield. He greets Jin with a kiss, offering you a smile.

But you don't have the energy or will to even try to mirror it.

As you drive back up the mountainside, trees whizzing past the window wet with rain, you drift in and out of sleep. Jin handles the car so smoothly even through the winding roads, one hand on the wheel with the other resting somewhere on Namjoon.

You don't notice them both sneaking glances at you through the rear-view mirror, glad to see that you're getting some sleep.

When you arrive at the house, the sun is half set. You trudge up the path lined with plants, now lit by outdoor lights, reaching the massive wooden slab that is the front door.

Even in your sluggish state, you can't help but think that you'd like your home to have the same thing, if you had a home. A big sturdy door to keep others out. But this is isn't your home.

Jin and Namjoon lead you inside, and the sound of soft chatter sounds in the distance. You can smell food cooking too.

The house is darker now that the sun has set, lit up by warm ambient lighting from the lamps and elegant light fixtures all around.

You follow Jin and Namjoon into the kitchen area, spotting the bodies crowded inside. The room is bustling with activity, jazz music playing in the background.

Yoongi is standing over the stove, shifting his attention between a great big pot of boiling water, a pan full of bubbling red sauce, and a pan filled with sizzling meatballs. Jimin is chopping lettuce, Taehyung is slicing a loaf of french bread, and Jungkook is shredding cheese.

All of their eyes immediately find yours when you enter the room, Jimin and Yoongi offering a smile, Jungkook and Taehyung looking at you with a hopeful expression.

"Welcome home," Jimin says, eyes crinkling.

It makes a very weird sensation bloom in your lungs. The idea of home is bitter.

Jin and Namjoon set down their coats and briefcases, greeting the others warmly.

You stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Yoongi and Jimin pick up on it almost immediately.

"Do you want to come and sit here?" Jimin says (cutting himself off from saying your name), gesturing to the row of stools along the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

You take him up on his offer, eager to have something to do.

The kitchen is flush with heat from the cooking, but you can still hear the rain pounding outside from the cracked window above the sink.

Jungkook pauses his cheese-shredding to provide Jin with a glass of red wine and Namjoon with a whiskey cocktail of some kind, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek as he does so.

You sit there and watch it all unfold.

Yoongi boils the pasta as he watches the sauce and meatballs simmer. Jimin prepares a ceasar salad with grilled chicken, croutons, and freshly shredded cheese (thanks to Jungkook). And Taehyung spreads butter, herbs, garlic, and cheese on the bread slices and places them in the oven.

At some point, Hobi comes down the stairs and into the room, slick with sweat and panting slightly. He sends a radiant smile your way when he sees you.

Soon, the table is set and everyone's gathering around, Yoongi gesturing for you to sit with them.

Jin and Namjoon sit at either head of the long table, you falling into the seat in-between Jimin and Jungkook.

Bowls of pasta and meatballs are served, garnished with fresh herbs and grated cheese. Jungkook helps load a side of salad and garlic bread onto your plate like it's the most natural thing in the world.

This time, you don't hesitate to dive into the food. Everyone notices, but they just exchange happy glances between themselves to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

The food they make is ridiculously good. The pasta, tomato sauce, and savory meatballs warm your insides, providing ample protein to help you feel stronger. The salad is crisp and refreshing, the bread soft and salty.

The men around you are chatting pleasantly, every once in a while attempting to lure you into the conversation, but you have absolutely no interest in that. Your brain is still sluggish with exhaustion. Right now you’re just glad the food isn’t upsetting your stomach.

You don’t see it, of course, but a steady stream of warmth fills their hearts whenever they look up and see you sitting at the table, eating as much as you want.

After dinner, Hoseok and Jungkook start on the dishes while you follow the rest of them to the living room. The soft jazz is still playing, some of them refilling their wine glasses before they settle on the couch.

They’re still trying to talk to you.

“How’s your stomach?” Jin asks. You nod as if to say alright.

“Did you get some sleep on the drive home?” Yoongi asks. You nod again, even though you know this isn’t your home.

“Would you like to meet more of the pets?” Jimin asks. You nod more firmly this time.

He rushes off to another room with a big smile.

You reacted well to Fish Sticks, so they decide to let the rest of the cats out.

There’s Hepburn, a regal-looking fluffy white cat with iridescent blue eyes. She looks up at you from the floor and rubs against your legs.

Then there’s Grease, a black cat with very large green eyes and fangs that poke out from his mouth. He tries to crawl up your pants, but after a stern word from the men, he settles to just hop around your ankles.

Finally there’s Potbelly, clearly a little bit older and slightly chunky, with a smattering of brown, orange and white fur. He nuzzles against your hand briefly before sauntering away, disinterested.

You react very fondly to all the cats, stooping down to scratch behind their ears.

“Would you like to meet the dogs?” Jimin asks next, watching your face closely for your reaction.

They’re not sure if you encountered any guard dogs at the facility.

Unlikely, because your face only turns more interested, and you give an eager nod.

They bring them out one at a time. The smallest first, Yeontan, a dark fluffy Pomeranian who yips happily at the sight of you.

You notice a very strange expression come across Taehyung’s face.

Then there’s Mickey, a small brown and white dog that approaches you excitedly yet gently. Then Holly, a brown curly-haired dog that tries very adamantly to sit in your lap. Then Bam, a sleek Doberman that jumps and runs circles around your form when he sees you.

“Gentle, gentle,” Jungkook instructs the dog when he almost tackles you.

Then Jimin brings in a fluffy golden retriever, who is yanking desperately on the leash in both Jimin’s hands.

“Toast, calm down, girl!” Jimin says as he gets dragged along.

But when the dog sees you, she lets out a sharp whimper, shooting towards you like a bullet. The leash is yanked out of Jimin’s hands as she barrels into your legs, letting out little whines and happy-sounding barks.

Something makes you sink to your knees and wrap your arms around the dog, some deep and heavy urge that grips you like a clenched fist. You gulp an inhale of the dog’s somehow familiar scent, and tears nearly spring into your eyes.

Everyone around you is about to cry too. Toast is your dog.

She smelled you almost as soon as you entered the house. It broke their hearts to keep her separated from you, since they had no idea how you’d react. She nearly broke the door down trying to get to you.

She’s panting as you pet her head, her tongue hanging out of her grinning mouth, tail wagging rapidly.

If you’d die for Fish Sticks, then you’d go to war for Toast.

You stay on the ground petting her for a while, the boys watching you fondly. At some point, you find your eyelids drooping again, belly full and worn out from all the interaction.

“Are you ready to wash up and settle in for bed?” Jimin asks you, very much fighting the urge to coo at how cute you look while comfortably half-asleep.

You nod and follow him upstairs. He gives you a set of striped pajama pants and matching button-up as you wash off with another wet washcloth, Toast sticking to your side like Velcro the entire time.

Downstairs, everyone crowds around Jin and Namjoon, asking how the tests at the clinic went, barely concealed hope in their eyes.

But they shake their heads solemnly.

“The spell was at nearly full strength. Nothing can be recovered,” Jin says. “But otherwise she’s healthy.”

Their faces fall a bit, but they figured that it would take a miracle for your memories to get brought back. Even if it were possible, the process would no doubt cause you extreme pain, and none of them want that.

Taehyung, though, has tears in his eyes again. He brings his hand up to his forehead.

If only you knew, Tae thinks. If only you knew just how much they love you, how much he loves you.

But he knows that you’re uncomfortable around him. And the awful thought did cross his mind: what if you never love him again?

Jungkook rubs Taehyung’s back as more tears fall. He can see the pain in Taehyung's face, the pain that screams please don't forget me and all the things we shared.

But it can't be helped. All they can do is help you as much as they can.

"She's just...gone," Taehyung chokes out.

Namjoon swoopes in right away.

"She's still her, just a little lost," he says.

"But she recognized Toast," Taehyung mumbles, dejected. Because why didn't you react that way to any of them?

"It's instinctual, muscle memory," Yoongi cuts in firmly. "You can erase the memories, but you can't completely erase the feelings that come with them."

Jin places a hand on Taehyung's shoulder, leaning into him.

"I'm sure she recognizes us, in a sense. She just can't express it because we're...people. Animals are easy, they don't judge. But people...it's people that hurt her," Jin says, rubbing soothing circles across Tae's shoulders.

The younger man nods, wiping his tears. He's gone silent, now. Jungkook helps him up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Later that night, Namjoon brings a half-empty bottle of rosé and two glasses up to his and Jin's shared bedroom.

Jin is fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe, hair still wet, a medical newsletter in his hand.

Namjoon puts the glass in his empty hand and fills it up. Jin smiles at him gratefully.

"Quite a day, huh?" Namjoon says as he pours a glass for himself.

Jin looks lost in thought.

"I'm worried about Tae," he says solemnly.

Namjoon pauses, then comes to perch on the armrest of the chair Jin is sitting in.

"He's still in denial. It's a hard pill to swallow," Namjoon says, wrapping an arm around his other half.

"Indeed it is," Jin replies, sipping at his wine.

"He'll come around," Namjoon insists.

"I know he will. It's just..." Jin trails off.

"Yes, love?" Namjoon prompts.

"There's this tension between them that I don't understand," he says. "I think Tae is mourning her old self because he doesn't think her new self will connect with him."

"Hmm," Namjoon says, thinking. "I think you're right. But we'll be there, to help both of them. That's what they need right now, for someone to guide and support them into a new state of being."

Jin downs the rest of his wine, beaming up at his partner.

"I love you, you know that?" he says, grinning.

"Of course I do," Namjoon replied, grinning back.

"Now come on, let's get in bed."

“You alright?” Min asked, giving me a once over to confirm for himself.

“I’ll be feeling it for days to come, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. Any luck with Namjoon and Hoseok?”

Right on cue, Jungkook’s posture shifted, his rounded ears pointing in the direction of the doors seconds before he broke into a dead sprint. His name lodged in my throat as I turned my attention that way. Jooheon emerged first, rolling the massive metal sliding door to the warehouse open a bit further to allow another stretcher through. A brief bout of panic struck me, my eyes darting between the group of medics to see who was on it. It abated somewhat after realizing the man being wheeled towards another ambulance wasn’t one of the pack members, but the guard who attacked me and I had last seen fighting with Namjoon.

I whipped my head back towards the doors, releasing a deep breath seeing the two missing hybrids walk out the doors next, side by side. I sagged in relief seeing the two of them relatively unharmed, apart from the obviously busted lip Namjoon sported and their disheveled clothes and hair. Jungkook launched himself into Namjoon’s embrace, the pack leader welcoming the contact while simultaneously attempting make sure the youngest was unhurt. The sight was heartwarming, a part of me happy that I was able to get them out of there, now I wanted to make sure the seven of them were reunited with one another.

As much as I desired to check on them myself, I allowed them their moment together, my attention turning back to Minhyuk who had been watching them just as I had.

“Did your men find Jongsu?”

Min’s head turned to me, the shake of his head deflating the small bit of happiness I held.

“No. He’s gone. We didn’t hardly find any of the guards either, I’m assuming they had some sort of escape route in place that we just haven’t found yet. We’re working on releasing the other hybrids they left behind.”

“What’s going to happen to them?”

He turned contemplative, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’ll most likely send them to a secure location, just to be safe. Same with the ones you were with. It would be in their best interest, and yours, if you all laid low for a while until we find Jongsu.”

“You want to send me to witness protection too?” I asked surprised.

“I don’t really think you have a choice Y/N. Jongsu will come after you. I’d rather be as prepared as we can be in that case, wouldn’t you?”

“Y/N…”

I turned at the call of my name, Namjoon having been able to peel Jungkook off him approached Minhyuk and I cautiously, his eyes darting between the two of us as he came to my side.

“Are you okay?”

I melted under his concern, his worry-filled chocolate gaze searching for my answer before I could provide it.

“As good as I can be under the circumstances.” I shrugged. “What about you? That looks like it hurts.”

I tapped my lower lip in the same spot his was split, his features turning confused as he brought his hand up, wincing when he made contact with the wound as if he hadn’t even known it was there.

“Ah, well, good news is that other than my lip, I’m fine.”

“You sure? I can have one of the medics check you out just to be safe.” Minhyuk suggested.

Namjoon shook his head, giving as much of a polite smile he could without irritating his cut.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’d feel a lot better if I could be taken to the rest of my pack instead.”

“I’ll have a car brought around for the three of you.” Min promised, reaching for his phone.

“Four.”

Minhyuk paused, turning his attention back to Namjoon. “Four?” He repeated.

Bewildered, I ran a quick count in my head, unsure who else Namjoon could be referring to since they would already be at the hospital. Namjoon nodded once, his head tilting slightly in my direction though his eyes never left Min.

“I want Y/N with us.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” Namjoon stated simply, shifting his gaze to me. “I think all of us would feel a little more comfortable having you nearby. Besides, I’m worried it may throw Yoongi into a panic if he wakes up and can’t find you.”

“Who’s Yoongi?” Minhyuk questioned.

“Our snow leopard.”

“Okay, and why would he panic if Y/N isn’t there?”

Namjoon opened his mouth to answer, but my hand found purchase on his forearm before he spoke.

“I’ll… explain later.” I interrupted him, hoping the grimace I gave Minhyuk came off as a smile more than the awkward twist of expression it felt like.

I could tell Minhyuk didn’t appreciate not knowing exactly what that meant. The look in his eyes was familiar, one I’d seen on many occasions when he knew he wasn’t going to like what I had to say. Thankfully, I was spared the incoming lecture by an uneasy Hoseok, his tail puffed out as he helped himself to the spot next to me opposite of Namjoon, concern marring his normally unbothered countenance.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ve already been checked out and given the okay. What about you?”

A relieved smile lifted his lips, some of that radiance I associated with him returning.

“Not even a scratch.”

Grateful that I had one less injured pack member to worry over, my thoughts shifted to the one I knew was critically injured and the other I had last seen totally unconscious. Out of the corner of my eye, Namjoon tried to keep his fidgeting to a minimum, but I knew that if I was itching to make sure Taehyung and Yoongi were alright, he probably felt those feelings ten-fold.

“Min. We can figure out the specifics later, but I’m sure Namjoon as well as the other two would feel much better if we could get to the hospital as soon as possible.”

Reluctantly, Minhyuk agreed, calling someone to bring a car around. Unsurprisingly, Jungkook was the first inside, followed by Hoseok while Namjoon stood by patiently for the two of them to settle. His head turned towards me, the slight tilting gesture telling me he was waiting on me. Before I could join them, Minhyuk stopped me, giving Namjoon a tight-lipped smile as he pulled me a few feet away.

“I’ll come pick you up when I’m done here, so don’t leave the hospital, alright?”

“Alright.”

“And get checked out while you’re there.”

“Min, the paramedic alrea-“

“The paramedics aren’t doctors. I’d feel better if you’re cleared by a doctor.”

I sighed under my breath, head already nodding in agreement.

“I will.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I hugged him, happy to be seeing him again after the time I spent in that prison. He squeezed me in his embrace, the affectionate gesture not lasting more than a couple of seconds with neither of us being big on physical touch. We parted, the two of us exchanging mock salutes as he retreated to finish his job. I watched him go, part of me tempted to stay just so I could join him in his hunt for Jongsu, but a much larger part of me wanted to make sure Taehyung was okay. I turned around, meeting Namjoon’s patience with a renewed sense of urgency.

“Let’s go.”

To say the hospital was busy was an understatement. It seems the seven hybrids I’d come to know in the short time I’d been kidnapped weren’t the only ones to be transported to the nearest hospital. Several different species packed the lobby upon our arrival, some of whom looked physically okay, while others were plainly obvious the abuse they endured. I swallowed hard at the sight, feeling sick to my stomach that the man responsible for their suffering was still at liberty.

“You find Jimin and Taehyung and I’ll find Jin and Yoongi?” I suggested, glancing at Namjoon.

He nodded, feet already rushing down the hall with Jungkook on his heels. I turned to Hoseok; a bit surprised to see he wasn’t following the other two.

“I’m with you.”

“Works for me.”

Since I didn’t have the ability to smell or sense or whatever it was that hybrids did to locate each other, I beelined for the nurses’ station. Though I was sure Hoseok probably could have saved me the trouble.

“Excuse me?” I called out to the frazzled nurse collecting the mountain of patient sheets sprawled across the counter. “We’re looking for a snow leopard hybrid. He may have been unconscious when he was brought in.”

“Are you family?”

“I’m his packmate.” Hoseok answered.

The nurse took one quick look over Hoseok, but didn’t question him. She turned to her computer, quickly scanning through her screen before nodding.

“We moved him to isolation under doctor’s orders. You’re allowed to go back, but I’m not sure if they’ll allow you to see him.”

“Why did they move him?” I frowned.

“Another hybrid that came in with him requested it. He said it would be better for him to wake up somewhere with fewer people and less noise.”

That was probably a good call on Jin’s part. I thanked her, about to leave before quickly turning back.

“Oh, actually, there was another hybrid transported via ambulance. He’s also a packmate of ours, a tiger. Could you tell me his condition?”

A soft brush over my calf caught my attention, my eyes dropping down as the nurse turned to check her patient log again. The striped, fluffy tail responsible for the caress made pointed, lazy thumps against my leg, my eyes traveling up the appendage to Hoseok’s sparkling gaze.

“What is it?”

He took a step closer, invading my space as his torso pressed into my side.

“You said ‘ours’.” He murmured, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear.

“Yeah…?” I confirmed, a little confused.

“He’s in surgery right now.” The nurse informed us, my focus snapping back to her. “Doctors stabilized him before going in, but he was rushed in for emergency surgery right after.”

Though I had witnessed the extent of his injury, the information was still like a punch to the gut. I could feel the growing anxiety rolling off Hoseok next to me as he absorbed what we were being told as well. Quickly, I tamped mine down, trying my best to keep from making things worse for him in case my rising concern amplified his.

“Okay, thank you. Would it be possible for me to be notified when he’s out?”

“Of course, just fill this out for me.” She rummaged through the enormous about of paper littering the area around her for a clipboard before handing it to me. “You only need to fill in the emergency contact portion since I have the patient demographics already. I’ll attach your contact info to his file.”

“I don’t have a cell on me. Is there a way you can get ahold of me within the hospital?”

“If you’ll be in isolation, I can forward a call to them, and they can let you know.”

“That would be great. Thank you.” I smiled gratefully, handing back her clipboard.

Hoseok relayed his thanks, taking my hand to pull me along with him in the direction of the hospital’s isolation ward. Though it was busy, the closer we got to where Yoongi was being kept, the more I noticed the number of people began to thin out. Not only that, but it was much quieter in this part of the building. At least, it would have been, had the shouting at the end of the hall not been happening. Hoseok dropped my arm, breaking into a run when recognizing Jin’s voice trying to be heard over the loud bangs. I picked up my pace after him, swearing under my breath. So much for being here when he woke up, I groaned internally. I was seconds away from rounding the doorway into the room, my momentum halted when my body slammed into Hoseok’s who was backpedaling his way out. The impact nearly knocked the breath out of me, my body stumbling back before Hoseok caught me with an arm around my waist, slinging the two of us away from the doorway right as a stool came flying through it.

“Yoongi calm down before you’re sedated again!” Jin snapped.

Cautiously, Hoseok and I peeked around the frame. Two security guards stood with their backs to us, palms out as they approached the wild-eyed leopard who tore at the multitude of cords and tubes attached to him. Jin’s ears flattened, worried gaze flicking between the guards and Yoongi, trying his best to verbally calm the agitated cat while gesturing to the two men to back off. One glance at the situation was all Hoseok needed before throwing himself into the mix. He rounded the guards, moving to block their approach towards Yoongi.

“He’s not a threat!”

Yoongi’s head whipped up at the sound of Hoseok’s voice, his fight with the medical equipment temporarily forgotten.

“Not a threat? He’s throwing furniture around and is clearly hostile.” One of them scoffed.

“Only because he’s not sure where he’s at or what’s going on.” Jin explained, inching closer to Yoongi now that Hoseok was warding off the two men. “You have to understand that these are extenuating circumstances. Our pack is spl-“

“And you have to understand that in his current state, he’s a liability to himself and others. We can’t have him threatening the safety of other patients, he has to be restrained.”

They made to move forward, Hoseok’s concern revealing itself in the way his tail wrapped around his own leg at Yoongi’s snarl upon noticing the men coming at him. Quickly, I rushed into the packed room, intercepting the surprised guards.

“Wait! We can calm him down, please, just give us a few minutes.”

“Lady-“

“Please. Five minutes. That’s all I’m askin-“ My words ended on a soft oomph~ with the sudden smothering I found myself in.

Yoongi’s body collided with mine, pulling me further from the perceived threat. His bristling tail curled around my thigh and tense arms wrapping themselves around my shoulders. I threw a hand up to let the guards know I was fine as they tried to lunge at the two of us. Jin moving to Hoseok’s side to act as a physical barrier between us and them.

“He’s mated to her. She can calm him down.”

Security froze at that statement, looking to one another nervously. Though I wasn’t well-versed in hybrid regulations and behaviors, I did know from my time as a PI over the years that separating mated hybrids was a big no-no. Although, that was standard procedure for hybrid-hybrid mates, I was hoping the same applied to human-hybrid couples as well. The longer the two strangers lingered, however, the more I could sense how on-edge it was making Yoongi.

“Give us a moment, please.” I begged, inputting as much emphasis as I could in my voice.

The last thing I wanted was for them to have just been given their freedom, only to be locked up somewhere else, or strapped to a bed. Neither option sounded like it would end well. An exasperated sigh was my answer, one of the guards dropping his shoulders before nodding reluctantly.

“Fine. Five minutes. If he’s still feral, he’ll be restrained.”

I winced at the term ‘feral’. None of the seven I’d met could even be considered close to feral hybrids, but I supposed now wasn’t the term to argue technicalities when he was giving us the space we asked for. Yoongi watched their retreat, the tension not leaving him until they were out of sight and the door was shut behind them. Even then, his hold on me was unrelenting as he turned his attention to Jin and Hoseok.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon are with Tae.” Hoseok answered since Jin probably didn’t know either. “He’s in surgery right now.”

“What?” Jin blurted, whirling on Hoseok with worried eyes. “What do you mean he’s in surgery?”

“He was shot while we were trying to escape.”

All three pairs of eyes turned to me, Jin’s face going pale at the news, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Is he- How bad is it?”

“They said he was stable before they took him in, but I don’t know the extent of the damage.”

While the others’ hybrid features gave away their feelings openly, Jin didn’t need them. He was an open book. The concern and sadness written across his face made it impossible for anyone to mistake how he took the news of his packmate’s injury. Gingerly, I reached for him, taking his hand to deliver a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“I asked them to let us know when he was out. As soon as he is, we can go check on him.”

I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that my words dissolved his worry, but I did hope it brought him at least a sliver of comfort. I turned my attention to the leopard pressed to my back, glad to see that he was relatively unharmed.

“Are you okay?”

Slowly, he shifted his gaze to me, hiding the same worry Jin openly displayed behind the mask I had come to know was typical for him.

“What happened?”

“They knocked you out and tried to take Y/N. Luckily, we were able to convince them to let Jimin go with her.” Jin’s brow furrowed as he relayed what he remembered happening. “Next thing I knew, Jimin had come back to get us out.”

“Yeah, we managed to get away from the guards. I had them follow me so Jimin could get a signal up top. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung found me-“

“Being nearly strangled to death by one of Jongsu’s men.” Hoseok spat, tail bristling.

Yoongi stiffened behind me, slender fingers cupping my chin to tilt my head up. He inspected the column of my neck, a low growl reverberating from him, through me at the sight in question where I had no doubt the redness was beginning to darken into bruises. And not the kind Yoongi liked to leave. I flinched against the soft touch on my cheek, having forgotten about the nasty blow I received to the face in favor of my sore shoulder and aching abdomen. Now that I was no longer fighting for my life, my injuries were starting to catch up to me. For Yoongi’s sake, I put up a fake smile, taking his hand so he would quit prodding at me.

“I’m fine, but that’s when Taehyung was shot by Jongsu. Jimin and I hid in one of the corridors until I found Min to help us out of there.”

“Who’s Min?” Jin and Yoongi asked simultaneously.

While Jin’s tone could have been interpreted as curiosity, Yoongi’s was flat out hostile. I looked over my shoulder at him, taken aback.

“Ah, he’s Y/N’s friend. A cop.” Hoseok chirped, oblivious.

Yoongi’s blank gaze never left Hoseok while he spoke, one fluffy ear flicking repeatedly. I watched it, the rounded appendage disturbing the surrounding black strands of his hair with every twitch. My limited experience with hybrids made me less than knowledgeable when it came to any of their habits, but I like to think I’d spent enough time with Yoongi and his pack to have a general understanding of what their body language expressed. Especially their ears. Those appeared to have a mind of their own, even when the body attached to them said otherwise. Making a mental note of the action, I tuned back into the conversation, keeping my mouth shut concerning the new bit of information I’d discovered.

“He seems nice. I don’t think Y/N would be friends with him if he wasn’t a good guy.”

My brows furrowed picking up the leg of conversation I hadn’t been paying attention to. Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, looking to Yoongi as if he expected the leopard to agree with him.

“You planning on inviting him into the pack too?” Yoongi scowled.

Hoseok’s tail dropped and his ears ducked at Yoongi’s anger, his lips forming a soft pout.

“No.”

“Tone it down.” Jin scolded the cat, glaring at him. “Right now, our priority is Taehyung. We don’t need your jealousy and temper tantrums.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi defended himself, rounding his ire on a new target. “We’ve spent God knows how long locked in a fucking basement and the first thing we’re gonna do when we get out is look to trusting fucking humans? The species responsible for putting us down there in the first place?”

“Yoongi, they’re not all bad. One of them helped us escape.” Jin sighed.

“Only because she wanted out too.” Yoongi huffed, dropping his hold on me and putting several feet of distance between us. “You think if she had free reign to walk in and out of there she would have risked her own life to save ours?”

“Excuse you?” I whirled on him. “I realize that you’ve been dealt some shitty hands, but you can’t lump all humans in together. There’s people out there who genuinely care about what’s happening to you all, Min and I included.”

“Don’t lie to us sweetheart. We all know the real reason you put yourself in that situation was to bring down Jongsu for the pretty medal of honor it would probably bring you. If it just so hadn’t happened to be our pack you were thrown in with, you wouldn’t have given a shit about us.”

“Even if you weren’t, I would have made sure everyone had gotten out. Don’t think that just because we slept together, it makes you special.”

“Okay!” Jin intervened, moving in between Yoongi and I when the leopard took a menacing step forward. “It’s not the time or place for this. Yoongi, get back in bed until the doctor comes back and releases you. Hoseok, you stay with him. I’ll take Y/N with me to find the others.”

I glowered at the infuriating hybrid behind Jin even as the bear took my arm to gently lead me back towards the door. Yoongi hardly took his eyes off me even as I was pushed out the door, his narrowed stare expressing his distaste for me while the rounded appendage on his head started flicking again. Right before Jin nudged me out of the room, Yoongi averted his gaze, snarling softly before beginning to pace, the tip of his tail twitching. Hoseok was quick to try and console him, urging him back towards his bed despite the cat’s obvious disinterest. I huffed a frustrated breath as the door closed behind Jin.

He bowed politely to the two security guards still stationed outside, letting them know that Yoongi was more or less calmer than he was before, but asked that they refrain from just barging in unannounced.  I swiftly made my way down the hall Hoseok and I had come from only minutes ago, needing to put some space between me and that room. It wasn’t normal for people to get under my skin so easily, but Yoongi seemed to have a knack for it. I took a deep breath, trying to reign my emotions in as Jin caught up to me, his hand reaching out for my shoulder only to think better of it at the last second and let it drop.

“Are you alright?”

“I think I’d have better luck talking to a brick wall.”

“He can be… difficult sometimes. He means well, he’s just crap at expressing himself.”

“I know Jin. I don’t hold his words against him.”

He paused before leaving the isolation ward, his white ears swiveling to pick up the sounds outside the doors that my own, human ears, were too weak to hear yet.

“I don’t want you to think we aren’t grateful for your help. Without you, we’d still be stuck there, so thank you.”

His gratitude melted the last of the bitterness I had. My lips curling into a smile without much effort as I looked up at him.

“You don’t have to thank me, but I appreciate it, nonetheless. You’re sweet Jin.”

His cheeks matched the shade of his hair, his hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he averted his eyes. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but the words never came, his lack of ability to articulate himself leaving him more flustered until I took pity on the poor man and saved him the trouble.

“Let’s go find the others and see if we can find out any more information about Taehyung’s condition.”

Taglist (closed):

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As soon as my collar touches the ground, my magic seeps out of me like a flooding torrent, extreme relief as it finally gets to feel the fresh air for the first time in years, but it's so overwhelming, so strong that my body can't control it and it causes a blast of energy that propels everyone nearby meters away just as the deafening sound of the explosion becomes even louder, everything in slow-motion as I realize I need to act right now.

Fire and gas. The obvious choice would be to use my earth power, but I’m terrified that it would only cause even more damage, I can’t do that here. I'll need to fight fire with fire, anything to protect my best friends and my soulmates.

My magic reacts without waiting for my permission and causes a dome of flames to cover the coming explosion just as the building's walls crack and give up the fight under the intense pressure happening inside.

The first impact as my fire attempts to absorb the strongest wave is like my insides burning and melting and I scream, not having expected that in the slightest.

The inhuman heat that swarms me from the inside is enough to have me almost lose consciousness but I push through, knowing that the fight is far from over yet and me blacking out would only give free reigns to my magic, which I can't have happening.

That explosion wasn't natural and unless I get rid of the source, it won't end.

Needing to add more strength to my fire, I let loose my wind as well, a second dome covering the fire and fueling it, making it stronger so I can start pushing against the enemy, knowing that he's somewhere within the mess, fighting for his life because there's no way he can run away now, not anymore.

My magic has so much pent up energy that I can feel it filling every streets, spreading through the air and dancing in liberty, free and ready to make the most of this moment and that terrifies me because so much can turn badly if I let it be.

I hiss when my water twirls around me, as if not conscious of the situation. Now’s not the time to have fun when we have so many people to protect! 

I can’t have Bo-young and Sung-kyung die when I can have a say in that, I can't have that old woman whisper that my best friend should've listened to her, that she should've stayed away from me.

And what of my soulmates? I might not know these two well, but I know Jimin and Hoseok and the simple thought of imagining them crying over their death, it turns my soul bitter and heartbroken.

I can't make them regret trusting me. I can't cause misery to the only people that care about me. I can't cause them pain when that's all I want to avoid.

My magic comes into focus on the task at hand and I sigh in relief as my fire grows in intensity, a literal volcano erupting inwardly and trying to break through the enemy's protections, which means he's not alone. Someone's trying to keep him alive.

The gas suddenly fades into nothingness but before I can make use of that opportunity, no time to think about what this implies, or even why it disappeared in the first place, a new barrier adds itself to the man I need to stop, his fire gaining in strength, an act of desperation.

But sadly for that man, I'm stronger. I'll always be stronger. There's no way he can win.

My fire absorbs his, eats through it like it's made of air and my insides burn, scream against it, that an unknown source of magic essence could be absorbed by my body, hurting it but also nourishing my own magic.

My wind gives more and my fire keeps devouring, no hesitation even if it hurts me, because our goal at the moment is the same. We need to protect, anything to keep safe.

This would have been a piece of cake had I not locked it away for so long, it wouldn't have to try and make up for lost time in such a short amount of time. My magic is hungry for power and it will take it however it needs to to attain its goal.

I drop down to my knees and fall into a coughing fit, the taste of blood filling my mouth and dripping down my chin. I don’t know what I was expecting from this, but it’s much harder than anything I could’ve imagined. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on like this.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, but that only results in spreading the blood over my skin and when I cough again, the harsh current of lava flowing through me growing in intensity, more blood trickles out of my lips, a cough splattering it to the ground when I almost choke on  the liquid.

Damn it, my body can’t keep up with my magic. I need to end this soon if I don’t want to die.

Just as I think that, a gasp reaches my ears over the infernal chaos and when I turn my head to look behind me, it’s to see a body crawling over to me that has my eyes widening, a whimper leaving me at the sight of Sung-kyung’s bloody body, her eyes locked on me as she tries to reach me with difficulty.

She’s hurt, because of me.

"Stay away Sungnie, you know how dangerous I am" I manage to tell her, lungs unable to fully fill with air as I start panting but she ignores me and hugs me from behind, her sobs shaking against my back as I bring my attention back to the fight at hand at a slight waver in the enemy’s magic before it dims down.

He's growing weaker.

I need to get to him, if I can just fight through the barriers, then I could get rid of the danger...

I start coughing again, watch as even more blood coats the ground, the crimson ruby in liquid form hardly processed by my mind as being mine.

Sung-kyung tries to take me away from the fire, her pleads for me to stop hurting myself, to follow her making me wince at how desperate they are, but I don’t move from where I am, I can’t, she doesn’t realize that this wouldn't change anything. 

I could move miles away that my magic would still remain here, it would still cover the magical explosion, it would still have my insides burning like a flaming hell. 

The blazing heat she feels from the tornado of lava in front of us feels so fresh to me, a breeze of warm air that feels simply comforting. 

It screams to me that it’s part of me, that although it hurts me right now, it doesn’t have a choice, that it’s for a good cause and I understand that, I really do, I brought that upon myself as soon as I removed my collar.

The problem is the enemy's fire, the barriers. As long as they don’t stop, I can’t put an end to this.

"Please Y/N, stop this, you're killing yourself!" my best friend screams, desperation in her voice but I shake my head, she doesn't understand that me stopping would only kill them. This place would blow up and then I wouldn't be able to save them all.

Anyway, my fire wouldn't listen to me, it’s too far gone.

"We'll all die if I stop now" I tell her as I push her hands away from me to try and stand up to my feet, body wobbly and filled with exhaustion and too much energy all at once, a dizzy feeling that makes me see a blur as I step towards the dome.

I need to see what the heck is going on in there.

Sung-kyung tries to hold me still but my wind pushes her back, too roughly.

I snap my head towards her, eyes wide as I see her unconscious against a nearby building's wall and that's when I take in the many unconscious bodies around me, not dead, but clearly heavily wounded by my magic.

My eyes notice Bo-young and my two soulmates not too far from her, blood on their faces, scratches covering their skin, rubble surrounding them from a pavement that has seen better days.

Hate. Shame. Disgust.

I did that.

I turn back to the matter at hand and enter the dome of elemental magic, heart broken and torn apart at what I just saw, at what I caused and it only serves to fuel my fire as it feeds off my emotions to become more vicious, more aggressive, as if not understanding that it is itself the cause behind all this destruction.

Once I get through the thick wall of my own magic, the heat that I would expect from an explosion is nowhere to be seen, which means most of it was absorbed already.

I look up and right in the middle of what remains of the building, I find the man on his knees as his body struggles to breathe, the fire taking everything with it, oxygen included.

My magic is made to kill after all. It’s made to destroy, it’s made to turn everything to ashes, it’s made to drown everything, it’s made to ruin and hurt. 

It won't kill me, never, but it's ready to go quite far to get what it wants and there's no way I can stop it, not until it's satisfied and right now, it wants this man.

Because what better way to protect our loved ones than to kill the ones threatening their lives?

The man looks up to meet my gaze, eyes filled with fear as he finally understands that he’s gone against more than he could handle.

"Please spare me, I-I will stop, I promise I'll stop, please let me live" he pleads pitifully but my magic only pushes stronger against the barriers, ones that start to fade, as if sensing that it's almost over, that it’s useless to even try anymore.

I step closer to him even if it demands so much energy from me until I stand right in front of him.

"Who are you and why are you doing that? Why did you attempt to blow up this area?" I ask between pants, watch as he shakes his head miserably, himself torn between limited choices.

"It was a sick plan, it was, the mall is full of people, he wants death, that's all he wants! Please, I didn't have a choice, if I didn’t listen he would’ve-” the man starts crying out but too soon, the barriers disappear.

And even as I step forward in an attempt to stop my fire, it jumps on the man like a lion finally finding the right moment to pounce on its prey and I watch as he melts in front of my eyes, screams of agony reaching my ears as his skin falls right off his body, a bloody mess before he gets completely disintegrated in front of my eyes.

The surge of power that floods my soul next makes me fall to my knees a second time, tears falling down my cheeks as my magic finally becomes satisfied, as if after the best meal of its life, it can finally rest easy.

The tornado of fire fades into thin air and only remains around me a circle of pure destruction, everything that the building was completely melted, no sign that there ever was something here to begin with if not for the ash and the remnants of a once human body.

My magic absorbed him. It absorbed the man, his magic, his energy, everything.

Disgusted with myself, I stand up with some difficulty and look behind me to see everyone still unconscious as the sound of police sirens get closer, no doubt this chaos needing more hands to take care of, and although it feels like hours just passed by, the fact that they’re not here yet lets me know that it was but mere minutes.

I limp my way to my collar but my magic pushes it out of reach, as if daring me to even try.

I scream, out of anger, frustration, pain, that this day was supposed to be great but now, all remains is a shitty mess, something that was never supposed to happen now happening and I couldn’t hate it more than I do at the moment.

"You give me my collar right fucking now" I growl, not in a mood to handle its moody ass, not in a mood to handle it at all. I never wanted to interact with it and I’m not starting now.

My wind caresses my skin, as if to apologize and the collar falls in my hands. I stare at it and after a moment of hesitation, I clip it around my neck.

Then everything becomes dark.

Yoongi's POV

When I open my eyes, it's to pure confusion as the sirens around me are loud and many.

My head hurts much more than I ever thought possible and I grunt as I try to lift myself off the ground, body barely responding to my brain as it tries to process what happened.

Because what happened? What was that?

I turn to my left to see Jin waking up, his own blood covering his face and I hurry my way to him, hands going to remove the ash from his skin but only ending up lathering it more and I cup his cheeks, wait for him to look at me.

I need to make sure that he's fine, that he’s not in pain. His confused eyes open and fall on me and I sigh in relief, a small smile that he responds to weakly, slowly as his eyes register the state of the place surrounding us.

Feet start running around the area and a body crouches next to us, hands on our shoulders with a comforting squeeze that feels familiar.

"Are you two okay?" I hear, look up to see Eunwoo’s concerned face before Jin lets out a painful sigh followed with a grunt as he tries to sit up with our help.

"Why do I feel like I got run over by a truck?" he mumbles, a sentiment I share. That is a very good question.

"What happened?" I ask, eyes staring around me to take in the state of the area, notice the many bodies being taken care of right now, paramedics spread all over the place with urgency, yet I can’t even begin to understand how this came to be as my memory has yet to really come back to me.

I think back to when Jin and I got here at first, our meal interrupted by the call, how we had to secure the area, how we had to ask surrounding restaurants and shops to close, for everyone to get away while trying to avoid creating panic.

Sung-kyung arrived, she had her friends with her, they were standing a while away and-

Then it all comes back to mind and my eyes widen as I start searching the ground more intently. Oh my gosh.

"There was about to be a frighteningly big explosion, I have no idea what spurred it but it was something that even my power wouldn't have been able to handle. I saw the way the fire came alive from inside the building, but then this girl-" I stop there as I remember when Sung-kyung’s friend ran towards the building just as the air started to shake with power, a terrifying sight that I won't be able to forget for a long time.

I try to stand up from where I am, even more eager to search for her now. "Where is she? Did she die? Why are we all alive? This was a mushroom kind of explosion, it was supposed to be massive, we shouldn’t be alive right now, no amount of power could’ve stopped that" I let out, eyes searching every face, every bodies before falling on where the building once was, the only thing gone in the area.

"Ahn Y/N. She removed her collar and saved you all. This explosion clearly wasn't of natural cause, such a strength of blast could never be contained in such a small building and she somehow sensed it before the sensors could" Eunwoo says, eyes solemnly watching as one ambulance goes away.

"She did? Just how strong is she that she could've stopped such a big explosion? Who is that girl?" Jin asks as he tries to stand up too and I move closer to him to help him up to his feet along with Eunwoo.

"Um... I don't know if it's my place to say, hyung, I don’t even know that much. All I can tell you is that she's not wearing a collar for no reason and the fact that you're all alive right now is a miracle, in more ways than you know".

A fucking miracle it is. There's no way we would've survived without her.

"Which hospital is she going to? Was she badly injured?" Jin asks urgently, needing to know the state of our savior and Eunwoo sighs.

"The same one you'll be sent to, every one of you. Sung-kyung-ah was already taken there with her friend and more ambulances are on the way for the people who stayed too close to the area. Her releasing her magic was no joke, it caused a shock-wave like I've never seen before, it was felt on every sensors on a radius of thirty kilometers".

Holy shit.

"Come on you two, get in my car, I'll drive you there, there’s no need to take one of the ambulances if you can walk" he says and we nod with a grunt, bodies really not liking being moved right now.

I get my phone out of my pocket only to find it broken and dead.

"Jin hyung, is your phone in better- guess not, should’ve expected it. Eunwoo-ah, can you lend me yours? I need to call our soulmates, they must have seen the news already and I bet they're worried sick" I ask, already imagining them pacing around unable to join either of us after getting a live of the explosion.

The man nods and hands it to me as we sit inside the car.

They'll probably hurry over to see this girl once they hear just what it is that she did.

Your POV

Waking up is not a fun thing to experience when it brings with it pain, soreness and terrible memories.

The constant beeping of a monitor and the smell of cleaning products lets me where exactly it is that I am, which lets me know that it really is over, and I’m not dead.

I'm not in prison so I guess I didn't kill anyone except for that guy, or they're just waiting for me to recover before throwing me in a cell. Two lovely possibilities.

I did unleash my magic when I wasn’t supposed to. Not because people forbid me from using it but because I’m wholeheartedly against it. We can't risk the same thing happening again and I just took a huge risk doing what I did.

I’m lucky that my magic didn’t do more than what it needed to do. There’s no telling what would’ve happened if it had decided to go around and destroy everything on its path, I wouldn’t have been able to stop it.

We were all very lucky.

Thinking about facing Sung-kyung and Bo-young scares me so much. Just remembering what I did to them... and to my two soulmates as well, I can't ignore the guilt that overwhelms me as a lump forms in my throat.

I hate this, I hate my magic so much. How it came to be the way it is... how wild it is... it makes me sick.

A magic that cannot be controlled. That's what I have.

Removing my collar was a really dangerous move on my part and I'm well aware of that, but I couldn't stand still and do nothing. Knowing my loved ones in danger, loved ones of dear friends, I just knew that my magic would cooperate, for it would never let its puzzle pieces die without at least trying to save them.

But that’s the extent of it. My magic couldn’t care any less for strangers, it’s shown that much in the past.

I can only hope that they're all fine. I slowly open my eyes to take in the room where I am and to my relief, I find it empty.

I wonder if I can make it out of here without being seen. Would that end up looking like a chase worthy of an action movie with police chasing after me? Now that sounds kind of fun.

But I doubt it would go that far, the hospital can just send me the receipt at home and I'll pay by sending a cheque back, I don't want the risk of being visited by anyone, I don't know how I could face any of them, especially not my soulmates.

My attempt to get out of bed makes me groan and that seems enough to alert whoever's walking by the door because soon, it opens quickly with a slam just as I'm falling down on the floor, my legs having completely given up on me.

A familiar small swear reaches my ears and I can't help an amused snort even though the situation is currently a shitty one considering I’m ass up in the air, face to the floor.

"How can you even laugh in that position?! Do you know how worried Bo-young and I were? I tell her I’ll go visit you, make sure you’re fine and what do I see? My girl kissing the damn floor" Sung-kyung exclaims with exasperation, her voice too loud as it makes my ears ring but I only manage a giggle in response as she helps me back to the bed with a gentleness that warms my heart.

So much for wanting to avoid her, at least they healed her well, she doesn’t even have a trace on her skin anymore, something that helps ease my mind. I’m sure the others were all well taken care of as well, even my skin looks soft as a baby’s.

I avoid looking into her eyes as she stares at me, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she understands how I came to fall out of bed and when she lets out a sound of disbelief, I turn my head away with my lips pressed tightly together.

"Don't tell me you were trying to run away?" she asks, but I know that she knows that’s exactly what I was attempting to do and my turning my back to her only confirms her assumption.

"Y/N! Why the heck would you do that? After what happened, you need to rest, do you have any idea what you just did today? Do you realize the extent of what you have accomplished?" she asks as she sits on my bed behind me, a hand resting on my shoulder and patting it softly, as if to coax a child into looking up into their mother’s eyes.

I keep my eyes closed, unable to look at her as guilt rushes back at the mention of what happened.

"Because I'm ashamed. I hurt everyone, I hurt you twice, I hurt so many people without wanting to" I let out, unable to keep the truth from spilling out, not when she knows me so well, it would serve me nothing to keep quiet.

"Bubs... I'm fine, I really am. Do you know how many people you saved today? You saved more lives than we can count and everyone knows it, you avoided such a terrible nightmare from becoming reality, no one died thanks to you!" she says gently, proud of me, so proud.

I shake my head. "Someone did, Sungnie... I killed someone. The source of the explosion... he died, my fire ate him, my fucking magic absorbed him. I have the magic essence of a dead man in me right now and I'm so fucking disgusted with myself" I let out, voice shaking as I clench my fists tight, eyes burning with the tale of unshed tears.

She scoots closer to me and pulls me into her hold, her arms wrapping around me comfortingly, her magic soothing as it caresses me and it’s enough to make me break down as she gently shushes me, a kiss pressed to the back of my head.

"It's okay. That was self defence, Y/N, you did it to protect us, you saved more lives than you took, you have to remember that. The past... it’s behind you, Y/N, your magic didn’t do anything bad this time" she whispers and I allow myself to believe, just for now.

To believe that this is fine. Because I know it's not.

The door suddenly opens and comes with it a new magic that responds to me.

As soon as I feel it extend to me, hoping for a response, for a connection, my magic whimpering because it can't reach out to this once again new soulmate of ours, I can't resist the hurt that spreads through my whole being and I start crying, face going to hide in the nook of her neck because I can't face this, I don't want to.

I'm just so tired of nothing going my way.

Namjoon's POV

I hum as I exit the room of a young girl who has a slight concussion and a broken rib, but otherwise nothing a healer can’t take care of and head for the next room on my list, the one of the woman who saved my soulmates and all the people that currently fill the hospital.

She’s giving us a lot of work, but to know that all of them are walking again within the first hour of being here, the care brought to them by the healers enough to allow them to be discharged the very same day, it’s not nearly as bad as it could’ve been if not for her.

We could’ve received no bodies at all because of the explosion, they could all be dead, nothing but dust. I prefer much more working hard for a few hours than grieving the loss of all these people who I don’t know. Once was enough and already too much.

I could never thank her enough for the way she protected my two soulmates, the two men thankfully fine and already out of the hospital for a few hours now, something relieving to our group because when we heard of the news, when we learned that it was happening right where they had said they would eat lunch at, we had all become a distressed group of nerves, unable to focus on anything as none of our calls would reach through.

When Jimin had sent a link to a live feed from the explosion area, we had all been holding our breath as we’d seen the way a dome of elemental magic restrained the explosion, a terrifying sight that gave us all the chills, yet we were fascinated all the same, this person who we couldn’t see doing their best to save the day, to save everyone.

When I learned that she was even younger than Jungkook, that she was Jimin and Hoseok’s friend who fascinated them, I couldn’t believe it, her frail body as she left the urgency department to reach a quiet room making me wonder just how this young woman could even manage something so incredible.

So it’s with badly restrained excitement, a heart singing praises for her that I open the door leading to her room, but my joy at seeing her awake dims down the hole when my arrival is accompanied with the sound of her crying, one that almost sounds like it was spurred by me.

It sounds so pained, so tired that my heart twists for her, wondering if the shock from the events is simply getting to her, if she’s scared of the possibilities that could’ve taken place now that she has the time to think about them.

Sung-kyung, my soulmates’ colleague, turns to me and offers me a tight smile, her eyes filled with worry for her friend, her hands softly rubbing her back to try and soothe her as her cries turn more to wailing than anything else.

It alerts me that it is possible she might be in pain and I join their side near the bed, feet only coming to an abrupt stop when she flinches away from me, as if simply sensing me near her was enough to hurt her.

Guilt fills me as I realize that I didn’t even announce myself before entering, my eagerness to see her and thank her in person taking over my professionalism and I step back, pad clutched to my chest as I meet eyes with her friend again, the woman looking a little lost herself by her friend’s state.

My eyes fall on her collar and understanding takes place in my mind. Right, of course she would be in pain. She’d let her magic free only to lock it again, it would make anyone cry, would make any souls suffer.

Part of me wishes I could simply remove it for her, let it free so that she could rest easy, so that she could heal better, but I know it would be unbecoming of me, collars aren’t meant to be removed outside of the wards used to keep it under check.

But her reaction seems somewhat abnormal. If she can remove it at home, then the collar shouldn’t be hurting her that much right now. Could she be hurting, not from her soul but from her body after all?

I shake my head and clear my throat. I need to stop trying to guess the problem and just ask her, seeing her in that state breaks my heart and I wish nothing more than to put an end to her pain. I kneel by the bed and look up at her face that hides in her friend’s neck, as if hiding from me and for some reason, I really don’t like that.

"Miss Y/N, I’m Doctor Kim Namjoon, I’m here to see how you are and if you need any special care, I’m here to be of help, but for that, I need you to cooperate with me. Can you tell me if you are hurting anywhere? Is there anything you would like, anything to help you?" I ask her softly, only to sigh, a little defeated when she shakes her head and turns away from me to hide within the officer's embrace.

She shoots me an apologetic gaze.

"She's been through a lot, it’s a lot to process so I think it would be better to give her some time, maybe you should come back later" Sung-kyung says with a small smile as she runs a hand through Y/N's hair and I nod, sensing that there's nothing I can do right now, as disappointing as it is.

I can’t get rid of the feeling of failure that fills me at seeing her reject me so clearly, but I understand how this could all be a lot to process, so I decide to focus on what I can do at the moment, as little as they are.

After quickly making sure that her IV injections are still good to go, I look around the room to make sure that everything is in order before making my way out of the room, a request to let me know when I can come back before closing the door in front of me.

I remain where I am, unsure of what to do now that my current list of patients is seen through, ears picking up every sounds of her sobs as they increase and my soul clenches with pain, a part of me needing to get to her, to do anything to make her stop crying and feeling utterly powerless that I can’t.

I sense Hoseok and Jimin's magic before I see them and I hurry to them to stop them from coming any closer, overwhelming her the last thing she needs right now. 

When they hear her crying even from a good distance, their eyes widen and I have to hold them both by the arms to keep them from rushing to her, eyes confused and worried for their friend who’s having difficulty calming down.

Jimin turns to me with teary eyes, his hand holding Hoseok’s tightly, the two of them needing answers as they stare at me with glassy orbs.

"What's going on, hyung? Is she in pain? Why is she crying so much?" he asks with an anxious voice but I shake my head, unable to give him an answer as I don’t know myself. 

Sliding an arm around their back, I lead them away from the corridor with me, to give her some privacy and to keep my soulmates from hurting even more.

"She woke up not long ago, I think all the weight of the situation is overwhelming her at the moment. I tried asking her what was wrong but she didn’t say anything, Sung-kyung is with her right now so let's give them some space, you two can visit her later" I explain to which they nod sadly, eyes gazing at the door one last time before it gets out of view as we turn right.

Hoseok hands me a lunchbox that screams Jin and I smile softly as I take it.

“Give it to her when she feels better, will you? Once Jin hyung made his way back home, he rushed to the kitchen to make her something healthy to help her recover faster, you know it’s his love language, he was hoping to thank her that way, even if he says that it barely covers a small portion of what she did for us” he says, words that don’t surprise me because that’s indeed something he would do, even after what he went through himself today.

It’s also his way of finally accomplishing something that he’s attempted often in the past.

Whenever Jimin and Hoseok would talk about her, we could all see the bright stars in their eyes as they would share how funny and kind she is, her laugh something they simply adore about her.

That resulted in all of us getting curious about her, we all wished on more than one occasion to get to know the woman who put such a smile on our soulmates’ face and Jin offered a few times to invite her over for dinner so we could all meet her, but that has yet to happen even once so far.

It caused a lot of disappointment and confusion in our group so after a few refused attempts, I eventually had to tell them to stop because obviously, she wasn’t comfortable with the idea, if the creative excuses she would come up with were anything to go by.

Because in all seriousness, who needs to go clean their dinosaur at the pet shop? Who goes to the shop to buy a clipper for their alpaca in the middle of the city? Who takes their car on a walk? She doesn’t even have a car!

As funny as I had to admit her excuses were, it didn’t change the fact that they were there to keep her from seeing us. Whether it was because meeting such a big soulmate group intimidated her or because she’s not interested in having more friends, there was no reason to push and they eventually agreed with me, as sad as that reality made us feel.

Our two soulmates were sorry for us, because they could still see her whenever she’d stop by the coffee shop, but we told them to enjoy it, that if she wanted to be only their friends, then it’s alright. Maybe one day in the future, that’s something that will change and she will give us a chance but until then, we will not insist any further.

Once back in my office, we all sit down on the couch and sigh at the same time, the stress of the day weighing heavy on our body and mind. They both rest their head on my shoulders and I hum, allow the feeling of their magic intertwining with mine to soothe me, to make me relax.

"Except for her mental state... how is she, physically? Can we really not allow her to free her magic while she’s here? It would help her, wouldn’t it?" Hoseok asks after a while, eyes meeting mine in concern. I shake my head.

"You saw the videos of the explosion, what if the same thing happens here? We can't have the hospital destroyed, plus it’s not within our control, she can remove her collar only once she's at home" I tell him but he shakes his head.

"She doesn’t remove her collar when at home, she keeps it on all the time. Her removing it today? It was to protect her friends, that’s the only explanation for it" he insists and I look down with a frown at that knowledge.

That’s not good, she can’t do that. “Doesn’t she have the wards at home? I don’t believe her to be a high criminal case, she should be allowed to remove her collar, she needs to, it’s very important to not sever the connection with her magic” I say but those questions draw a blank on his face.

“I don’t know hyung. I’m sure she has them, but she doesn’t want to remove her collar, she was very clear on that. Said once that the day she removes it is the day the world is ending, she was adamant on that” Jimin answers this time and I purse my lips, my worry for her only increasing.

That means no appointment to make sure that her magic remains healthy, no bonding with it, something extremely important for the soul. There are ways to get an appointment at her own home since the wards are there to help control her magic for her, but she doesn’t take them.

If that’s the case, if her crying earlier is really related to her soul being in pain, I suspect it might be because it’s trying to fight against the collar. If she’s reaching that point, then she might lose full control if she doesn’t give it a chance. She needs to bond with her magic if she wants to soothe it, it must be so confused and scared after what happened today.

"I'll try to explain the situation to her later but I honestly doubt that she'll listen to me. If she’s so intent on keeping it locked away, her listening to a doctor is very unlikely to happen. I’d need to know why exactly she’s refusing to remove it at home to even have a chance at convincing her" I mumble, arms crossed over my chest as I lean back into the couch, eyes staring at the ceiling as I try to come up with a way to bring the subject forward.

The two of them sigh at my words, knowing that I’m right. What could we possibly say to convince her? It’s not like we know her that well. Maybe her friend Sung-kyung could inform me a little more on her situation, if it’s something that gets in the way of her recovery, then surely she would open up.

As her doctor, Ahn Y/N is under my responsibility, under my care. I’m going to need answers if I want to be able to help her, but I'm going to have to be careful about this, it somehow feels like one wrong move could ruin everything.

The door suddenly opens and I see one of the nurses in my team entering the room out of breath. I get up quickly, not liking that look in her eyes, as if something bad just happened.

"Doctor Kim, your patient, Y/N, she... she's gone. That police officer told me to inform you before she rushed out of the hospital" she exclaims before leaning against the wall as if she ran a marathon, which I realize maybe she did since she didn’t know where I was.

I tsk my tongue and roll my shoulders to try and get rid of some of the tension taking place in my body.

This day is really running out of control, isn’t it?

At six years old, she still believed the mark would come late. That she was simply slow. A late bloomer. Adults said things like that with careful smiles and pity soft voices, and she learned quickly that those words meant something is wrong but we don’t want to say it.

At seven, the whispers started.

At eight, the staring.

At nine, the questions stopped and the conclusions began.

She learned to keep her sleeves down even in summer. Learned to tuck her hands under her thighs when she sat. Learned that if she didn’t give people proof, they would invent it anyway.

“She’s broken.”

“She’s empty.”

“She doesn’t have one because no one wants her.”

The cruelest part wasn’t that they said it.

It was that the world agreed.

Teachers avoided the topic. Doctors ran tests and frowned. Her mother held her wrist like she was waiting for something to appear, like warmth and belief might summon fate if she pressed hard enough.

Nothing ever did.

She didn’t cry about it. Not openly. Crying required sound, and sound invited attention. Instead, she became small in ways that weren’t physical. She spoke softly when spoken to. Observed everything. Learned people’s moods before they spoke. Learned where to stand so she wouldn’t be in the way.

Quiet girls survived longer.

By the time she was fifteen, she stopped wondering who her soulmate might be.

She started wondering why she didn’t deserve one.

—————

Adulthood didn’t fix it. It just dressed it better.

At twenty two, she lived in a small, clean flat with white walls and furniture chosen for function, not feeling. She worked in tech, backend systems, infrastructure, things that worked quietly in the background without being seen. It suited her.

No one needed to look at her wrists anymore.

Everyone assumed.

She was British American by passport and accent, caught between cultures but belonging fully to neither. She had friends, technically. Colleagues who respected her competence. Men who liked her quietness, mistook it for mystery.

She didn’t correct them.

Sex was easier than intimacy. It asked nothing of her wrists. Nothing of fate.

So when the nausea started, she ignored it.

When her period didn’t come, she blamed stress.

When the test turned positive, she stared at it for a full five minutes before sitting down on the bathroom floor and breathing like she was underwater.

The timeline didn’t make sense.

None of it did.

She counted backward. Recounted. Checked calendars. The dates didn’t align with anyone. Biology didn’t care about panic, though. Her body moved forward regardless of her understanding.

She went to work. Drank ginger tea. Kept quiet.

Fear made her jumpy. Sounds too loud. Touch too sharp. She slept with the light on without remembering when she started doing that.

On the morning she collapsed, she was halfway to work, one hand clutching her bag, the other pressed unconsciously to her stomach like apology.

She never felt herself fall.

—————

When she woke up, the world smelled like antiseptic and inevitability.

The doctor spoke carefully. Slowly. As if she might shatter if words were dropped too hard.

“Yes. You’re pregnant.”

She nodded. She already knew that part.

“There’s… something else.”

That was when the word entered her life.

Soulmate pregnancy.

One in a million. Documented, but rare enough to be theoretical. A phenomenon where fate didn’t wait for connection, consent, or marks.

The child carried the genetic material of all biological soulmates.

She laughed.

Once.

A sharp, broken sound that startled even her.

“I don’t have soulmates,” she said softly. “You’re wrong.”

They weren’t.

The bloodwork didn’t lie.

South Korean bloodlines. Seven distinct genetic contributors. All active. All present.

She stared at the results and felt something in her chest harden into resolve instead of wonder.

This wasn’t a miracle.

It was theft.

—————

Two months after Sayori was born, tiny, warm, devastatingly real, she stood in Incheon Airport with exhaustion stitched into her bones.

Twelve hour flight. A newborn on her hip. A plan that involved leaving everything behind.

She didn’t come to find love.

She came to give fate back what it had forced on her.

The stroller jammed. Her bags were too heavy. Sayori shifted against her chest, soft and warm and entirely unaware that she was the center of a cosmic mistake.

She felt it before she understood it.

A pull.

Not on her wrist.

On her spine.

She looked up.

Across the baggage conveyor, seven men stood frozen.

Seven wrists burned.

Seven hearts recognized something ancient and wrong and inevitable.

And he locked eyes with her first.

She swallowed.

For the first time in her life, she was being seen.

And she hated it.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She learned how to disappear without leaving.

It was a skill she perfected in adulthood, less about hiding and more about not being asked questions. She dressed neutrally. Spoke only when necessary. Let silence do the work of protection. In tech, this made her valuable. Systems didn’t need charm. They needed precision. Reliability. Someone who didn’t flinch when everything else went wrong.

Her colleagues trusted her because she never asked for anything.

They didn’t know that was the point.

When the nausea first started, she treated it like an error log. An anomaly. Something to be debugged quietly before it caused a system wide failure. She adjusted her diet. Cut caffeine. Told herself stress did strange things to the body.

Stress had always been her excuse.

She didn’t tell anyone when the test turned positive. She didn’t cry. She didn’t spiral. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the thin pink line like it might blink first.

It didn’t.

The timeline didn’t fit any partner. Not the man she’d seen casually three months ago. Not the one before that. She opened her calendar, fingers steady, heart not. Counted days. Weeks. Did the math again and again until numbers lost meaning.

She was methodical even when she was afraid.

Her body, however, was not.

Sleep became fragmented. Sounds startled her. She flinched when strangers brushed past her on the tube. She started holding her stomach unconsciously, a protective reflex she refused to name.

She still went to work.

Still fixed bugs. Still deployed updates. Still answered emails with calm efficiency while something inside her quietly rewrote every assumption she’d ever made about herself.

She had lived her whole life believing fate had skipped her.

Now it was inside her.

—————

The hospital room was too bright.

When the doctor said soulmate pregnancy, she didn’t romanticise it. Didn’t feel awe. She felt something closer to violation. As if the universe had reached into her body and made a decision without bothering to consult her.

“One in a million,” the doctor said gently. “We rarely see cases like this.”

She stared at the screen showing lines and numbers and proof she never asked for.

“I don’t have soulmates,” she said again, quieter this time. Not defensive. Just factual.

The doctor hesitated. That was answer enough.

When they showed her the bloodwork, seven genetic contributors, all distinct, all active, she laughed because the alternative was screaming. South Korean bloodlines, every one of them. Not vague ancestry. Specific. Traceable.

Seven.

She went home afterward and sat on her bed in the dark, one hand resting flat against her stomach, the other clenched around her wrist where nothing had ever appeared.

“This isn’t real,” she whispered.

The silence didn’t argue.

—————

Sayori arrived on a rainy Tuesday morning.

She didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. She endured labor the same way she endured everything else, with clenched teeth and a refusal to give the world the satisfaction of seeing her break.

When they placed the baby on her chest, warm and small and devastatingly alive, she felt something crack, not open, not heal, but fracture. A thin line through a wall she’d built carefully over decades.

Sayori’s eyes were dark. Curious. Too knowing for something that new.

She didn’t cry much. She settled against her like she recognised her. Like this was inevitable.

She didn’t name the feeling that bloomed in her chest.

Love was dangerous. Love implied staying.

She told herself this was temporary.

—————

Two months later, she booked a one way ticket.

Korea was not hope. It was closure.

She researched obsessively. Cultural norms. Legalities. The phenomenon. Everything except the men themselves. She refused to look them up. Refused to learn names, faces, music. If she didn’t humanise them, leaving would be easier.

She told herself they would take the baby. That they would understand. That they had everything, money, support, each other.

She had a career about to take off. A life she hadn’t sacrificed yet.

Sayori slept against her chest on the plane, small fist curled into her jumper like an anchor. She stared out the window for twelve hours and practiced not thinking about what it would feel like to let go.

—————

Incheon Airport was chaos wrapped in efficiency.

Announcements echoed. Wheels rattled. Languages layered over one another in a way that made her acutely aware of how out of place she was. She adjusted the baby carrier, reached for the stroller, fumbled with her bags.

She was tired. Bone deep tired.

That was when it happened.

Not a sound. Not a touch.

A pull.

Like gravity had shifted directions without warning.

She froze.

Across the baggage claim, seven men stood together, still as if time had stalled around them. Their expressions weren’t awe or joy. They were sharp with something darker. Recognition without context. Instinct flaring into alarm.

She didn’t know their faces.

But her body did.

Heat rippled through the air between them, invisible and undeniable. Her heart kicked hard against her ribs, not with longing, but with panic. Too many eyes. Not just theirs. Others noticing. Whispers starting.

Jimin, she hadn’t known it then, was the one who met her gaze first.

His hand was clenched around his wrist like it hurt.

She swallowed, forced herself to move. She unfolded the stroller. Lifted her bags. Every instinct screamed at her to leave, to disappear the way she always had.

But this time, the world had noticed her.

And it wasn’t letting go.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

The bond did not announce itself with ceremony.

It did not ask permission.

It burned.

Jimin felt it first, sharp, sudden, like someone had pressed a brand into the inside of his wrist. He gasped before he could stop himself, fingers tightening reflexively around the mark he’d lived with his entire life. Heat pulsed beneath his skin, alive in a way it had never been before.

“What—” Taehyung started, then stopped.

Because they all felt it.

Seven men, seven soulmate marks, igniting at once.

Not glowing softly the way stories said they would. Not humming with warmth and affection. This was violent recognition. A pull so strong it tilted the world on its axis and made the air feel thick, charged.

Namjoon’s breath left him slowly, deliberately. “Do not move,” he said, instinctively, even as his eyes lifted.

Across the baggage claim stood a woman with exhaustion carved into her posture.

She was small in a way that wasn’t fragile. Defensive. Shoulders slightly hunched like she was braced for impact. Her sleeves were long despite the warmth of the terminal, hands busy with bags and buckles and straps like motion itself was a shield.

And on her chest—

A baby.

Jungkook swore under his breath.

The child was tiny. Dark haired. Peacefully asleep, cheek pressed against the woman’s collarbone like it belonged there. Like it had always known that spot.

Yoongi’s mind raced faster than his pulse. No. That’s not possible.

Hoseok felt it like vertigo. Jin like dread laced with awe.

Their marks burned hotter.

“She doesn’t have one,” Jimin said hoarsely.

It wasn’t accusation. It was disbelief.

Namjoon saw it too.

The woman’s wrists were bare.

—————

She knew something was wrong the moment she felt the air change.

She didn’t feel heat. Or magic. Or destiny.

She felt hunted.

Seven men. Too still. Too focused. The kind of attention she’d spent her entire life avoiding because it meant questions. Demands. Expectations she could not meet.

Her heart hammered painfully as she forced herself to keep moving. Fold the stroller. Lift the bag. Adjust Sayori’s weight. Her hands shook, but she refused to rush. Panic drew eyes.

And eyes were dangerous.

She risked another glance.

Big mistake.

The one with soft features and sharp eyes, Jimin, was staring at her like she was a wound he couldn’t look away from. His hand was clenched around his wrist, knuckles white, jaw tight with something that looked disturbingly close to pain.

She didn’t recognise him.

But some traitorous part of her brain whispered, You should.

“No,” she breathed under her breath, more plea than word. “No, no, no.”

Sayori stirred.

The moment the baby shifted, the pull intensified.

Jungkook took a half step forward without realizing it.

Namjoon caught his sleeve instantly. “Not here,” he said quietly, urgently. “We don’t know what this is yet.”

But they all knew.

Because the bond didn’t care about logic.

It cared about proximity.

—————

She got her bags and turned away as quickly as she could without running.

She didn’t look back.

She felt them instead, seven points of gravity dragging at her spine, at her ribs, at something deeper and older than fear. Her breath came shallow as she pushed the stroller forward, weaving through travellers and announcements and blinking screens.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She ignored it.

Her chest felt tight. Too tight. The walls of the terminal felt closer than they should have been. She focused on Sayori’s weight, the steady rise and fall of her tiny body.

“You’re fine,” she whispered. “You’re fine. We’re fine.”

She didn’t believe it.

Behind her, the seven men stood rooted in place, watching her go.

Jin broke first. “She’s leaving.”

Yoongi exhaled slowly. “She was always going to.”

Namjoon’s eyes never left her retreating form. “No,” he said, voice low and certain. “She doesn’t know what she is yet.”

Jimin swallowed hard. “Then why does it feel like she’s already gone?”

Because she had spent her whole life surviving without fate.

And fate had just found her anyway.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She didn’t stop moving until the taxi door slammed shut and the driver pulled into traffic.

Only then did her body betray her.

Her hands started shaking first. Then her breath hitched, shallow and fast, like she’d been running even though she hadn’t. She pressed her forehead briefly to the cool window, eyes squeezed shut, Sayori warm and solid against her chest.

“That wasn’t real,” she whispered.

Sayori made a small sound in her sleep, a soft sigh that felt like an answer anyway.

The city blurred past, signs she couldn’t read, buildings too tall, too close together. Korea felt loud in a way that wasn’t sound. She felt exposed, stripped of the anonymity she’d been counting on.

She had planned for everything except them.

Not their faces. Not their eyes. Not the way the air had bent around them like the world itself had leaned in.

Most of all, she hadn’t planned for the pull.

Not romance. Not longing.

Recognition.

And that terrified her far more.

—————

Across the city, seven men sat in a private conference room, the air thick with something that hadn’t been there that morning.

Namjoon stood at the whiteboard, marker uncapped but unmoving. His wrist still burned, the symbol etched there alive in a way it had never been before. It pulsed faintly now, like it was waiting.

“This aligns with the literature,” he said finally, voice steady even as his thoughts raced. “Rare cases. Soulmate convergence events. Usually theoretical.”

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Theory doesn’t explain why my wrist feels like it’s on fire.”

Jungkook hadn’t said a word since the airport. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as if holding himself in place. Every time he blinked, he saw her again, her guarded posture, the way she shielded the baby instinctively.

The baby.

“There was a child,” Hoseok said quietly, like speaking too loudly might make it worse. “That wasn’t… normal.”

Jin rubbed his face slowly. “No one looks at a stranger like that. Not unless—”

“Unless the bond already happened,” Jimin finished.

The room fell silent.

Namjoon nodded once. “Soulmate pregnancy.”

The words settled like a weight.

Seven pairs of eyes snapped to him.

“That’s not—” Jungkook started, then stopped. His mark flared sharply, heat spiking like it was offended by the denial. He hissed and grabbed his wrist.

Jimin did the same, breath stuttering. “She doesn’t have a mark,” he said again, quieter now. “I saw it clearly.”

“That’s documented too,” Namjoon said. “Extremely rare. Markless carriers. The bond manifests through the child instead.”

Yoongi let out a low, humorless laugh. “So fate skipped her and went straight to the baby.”

“And through the baby,” Hoseok added softly.

No one liked that.

—————

She didn’t sleep that night.

The hotel room was clean, impersonal, too quiet. Sayori lay in the bassinet beside the bed, tiny chest rising and falling, blissfully unaware that her existence had just detonated seven lives.

She sat on the edge of the mattress, elbows on her knees, hands clenched together.

She replayed the airport over and over again.

The way they’d frozen.

The way one of them, Jimin, had looked like he’d been punched in the chest.

The heat she hadn’t felt, and yet somehow had.

Her wrist was still bare.

Always had been.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she murmured, as if the walls might argue.

Her phone buzzed.

She flinched hard enough to wake Sayori, who made a small, indignant sound before settling again when she lifted her automatically, pressing a kiss to her soft hair.

The message was from the hospital back home. Follow up. Documentation. A reminder that there were legal pathways for soulmate reunification cases.

She deleted it.

She hadn’t come to reunite.

She’d come to return.

—————

By morning, the news had already started whispering.

Not names. Not yet. Just speculation. Grainy airport photos circulating on private forums. A woman. A baby. BTS present at the same terminal at the same time.

Fans noticed everything.

Namjoon knew it was only a matter of time before the whispers became questions.

“She’s scared,” Jimin said suddenly.

Everyone looked at him.

He swallowed, fingers digging into his wrist. “She wasn’t running toward us. She was running away. Whatever this is, she didn’t ask for it.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “Neither did the baby.”

That changed something.

Namjoon capped the marker decisively. “We don’t approach her publicly. No pressure. No claims.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “And if she disappears?”

Namjoon met his gaze evenly. “Then we find her quietly.”

Taehyung walked the length of the room.

Possessive didn’t mean careless.

It meant patient.

—————

She stood in the shower that evening, water scorching her skin like she could burn the feeling away.

She stared at her wrist as if daring it to betray her.

Nothing appeared.

No symbol. No heat. No proof.

Only the echo of seven pairs of eyes and a pull she couldn’t explain.

“I’m not yours,” she said aloud.

But when she stepped out and wrapped Sayori against her chest again, the baby calmed instantly, faster than she ever had before.

She closed her eyes.

For the first time, she wondered if fate didn’t need her permission at all.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

Sayori cried at exactly 3:17 a.m.

She knew the time because she’d been awake already, staring at the ceiling, cataloguing regrets she refused to call fears. The cry was sharp, brief but urgent, cutting through the quiet hotel room like a blade.

She was on her feet before the second sound left Sayori’s mouth.

“I know,” she whispered automatically, scooping her up. “I know.”

Sayori’s face was scrunched, tiny fists tight, her distress real but not panicked. She  bounced gently, rocking side to side, murmuring nonsense words she’d never planned to learn but now spoke fluently. Usually, this worked. Usually, Sayori settled within seconds, like she’d been waiting only to confirm she was still there.

Tonight, she didn’t.

The crying escalated, louder, more insistent. Sayori arched slightly, face flushing, distress climbing in a way that made her chest tighten.

“It’s okay,” She said, though her voice wavered. She checked the diaper. Dry. Offered a bottle. Refused. Walked the length of the room, then back again.

Nothing.

Panic crept in sideways, quiet but sharp.

She pressed her forehead briefly to Sayori’s, grounding herself in the warmth, the reality. “Please,” she murmured, not sure who she was speaking to. “Please, just—”

Sayori stopped.

Not slowly. Not gradually.

Instantly.

Her body went slack with relief, a soft sigh leaving her mouth as her tiny hand unclenched and then she felt it.

A shift.

Not inside herself.

Outside.

Like the air had changed pressure.

She froze.

Sayori slept peacefully against her chest, completely calm now, breathing deep and even like nothing had happened.

She stood there for a full minute, heart pounding, listening to the quiet roar in her ears.

“That’s not normal,” she whispered.

—————

Across the city, seven men jolted awake.

Jimin sat straight up in bed, gasping, his hand already gripping his wrist as heat flared sharply beneath the skin. His heart was racing like he’d been running, pulse loud in his ears.

“What—” he breathed.

In the adjacent rooms, the same thing happened.

Jungkook swore softly as the sensation hit him like a current, sharp and sudden. Yoongi cursed, sitting up with a scowl that didn’t quite hide the way his hand trembled. Hoseok’s breath stuttered. Jin’s eyes flew open. Namjoon was already awake, staring at the ceiling as if he’d been waiting for this.

They felt it together.

Not pain.

Relief.

A settling. A warmth spreading outward instead of burning in.

“She stopped crying,” Taehyung said aloud, though no one was in the room with him.

He knew it the way you knew when a storm had passed, without seeing it, without hearing it.

His wrist pulsed once, slow and satisfied.

—————

She didn’t sleep after that.

She sat on the bed with Sayori tucked against her chest, eyes fixed on the door like it might open on its own. Every rational explanation felt flimsy. Coincidence didn’t explain the timing. Or the suddenness. Or the way Sayori had gone from distress to peace like a switch had been flipped.

She had spent her life believing she was outside the system.

But systems had rules.

And this one was starting to show itself.

In the morning, she took Sayori out.

She needed air. Noise. Proof the world still worked the way it was supposed to. She dressed carefully, long sleeves, neutral colors, hat pulled low. She strapped Sayori into the stroller and pushed out into the street, heart thudding with every step.

The city buzzed around them. Vendors calling out. Cars honking. Conversations she couldn’t understand washing over her in waves.

Sayori watched it all with wide, curious eyes.

She stopped at a cafe, ordered something by pointing, hands shaking only a little. She sat outside, one foot hooked through the stroller frame like an anchor.

For a moment, just a moment, it almost felt normal.

Then Sayori fussed.

A small sound at first. A wrinkle of her brow. She reached automatically, fingers brushing her tiny hand.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

It wasn’t.

Sayori’s fussing escalated, tiny noises stacking into sharp distress. Heads turned. Her stomach dropped. She stood quickly, rocking the stroller, murmuring reassurance.

And then —

She felt it again.

That pull.

Closer this time.

Her breath caught.

Across the street, seven men had stopped walking.

They weren’t dressed for the stage. No masks. No disguises. Just ordinary clothes on bodies that carried a kind of presence she couldn’t ignore even if she tried.

Jimin’s eyes found her immediately.

Sayori went quiet.

Instantly.

Her crying cut off like it had never existed, her body relaxing in the stroller, eyes drifting shut as if lulled by something invisible and deeply familiar.

She stared.

The men stared back.

Jungkook looked stunned. Hoseok’s mouth had fallen open. Jin’s expression had softened into something dangerously gentle. Taehyung looked like he was bracing for impact. Namjoon’s gaze was sharp, calculating, already understanding what this meant.

Yoongi took a step forward.

She reacted without thinking.

“No,” she said, the word sharp and sudden, cutting through the space between them.

She grabbed the stroller and turned away, heart hammering, pushing into the crowd with single minded determination. She didn’t look back this time.

But she didn’t need to.

She felt them.

Steady. Patient.

Following, not with their feet, but with something far more terrifying.

Instinct.

—————

That night, she held Sayori close and stared at the dark.

The pattern was undeniable now.

The bond didn’t run through her.

It ran through the child.

And no matter how far she tried to go, seven people in this world would always know when Sayori cried.

She pressed her lips to her daughter’s soft hair, eyes burning.

“This wasn’t the deal,” she whispered.

But fate had never negotiated with her before.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She stared at the screen until the words stopped looking like language and started looking like threat.

She’d pulled the files back up at three in the morning, hospital records, genetic breakdowns, the documentation she’d sworn she wouldn’t read again once Sayori was born. She told herself she was checking details. Verifying. Looking for an out.

She was lying.

The truth was already lodged in her chest, heavy and immovable.

Seven contributors.

All active.

All necessary.

Soulmate pregnancies weren’t additive. They were collective. The child didn’t belong to one soulmate more than another. There was no primary. No hierarchy. Remove one, and the system destabilized.

She swallowed hard.

“You can’t,” she whispered to the empty room. “You can’t do that to me.”

Sayori slept beside her, tiny hand flung above her head, wrist bare, no mark, no symbol, nothing to betray the fate humming quietly under her skin. She watched her chest rise and fall, a rhythm she’d learned to anchor herself to.

The reports were clinical. Cold. They didn’t care that she was twenty three, exhausted, and had built her entire sense of safety around being alone. They didn’t care that she’d never asked for love, or destiny, or seven strangers bound to her through her child.

One line stood out, highlighted from a previous reading she didn’t remember doing, 

“Severing the bond prematurely can result in severe psychological distress to the child and all bonded parties.”

Severe.

Psychological.

Distress.

She closed the laptop like it might bite her.

So much for handing the baby over and disappearing.

—————

Namjoon sat with the same files spread across a table that had hosted far more comfortable conversations.

He read slowly. Carefully. Like the words might rearrange themselves if he rushed them.

“This explains the reactions,” he said finally. “The crying. The calming. The pull.”

Jin leaned forward, elbows on the table. “It also explains why she looked like she wanted to bolt.”

Taehyung was still frozen in time, his brain not catching up to the reality presented to him.

“She does want to bolt,” Yoongi said flatly. “She’s been doing it her whole life.”

Jimin hadn’t stopped thinking about the way she had said no.

Not shouted. Not hysterical.

Just… firm. Like someone drawing a line with the last of their strength.

“She’s not rejecting the bond,” he said quietly. “She’s rejecting us deciding for her.”

That earned him a look from Namjoon, thoughtful, approving.

Jungkook rubbed his hands together, restless. “So what do we do?”

“We wait,” Namjoon said.

Hoseok frowned. “That’s it?”

“No,” Namjoon corrected. “We prepare. We protect the child without claiming ownership of the mother.”

Yoongi scoffed lightly. “Good luck explaining that to the universe.”

Namjoon didn’t smile. “Fate doesn’t need convincing. People do.”

—————

She tried to live normally for three more days.

She failed spectacularly.

Sayori was fussier now, nothing dramatic, but different. She startled easier. Slept lighter. She noticed that she settled fastest near windows, like proximity to the outside world mattered now.

Like proximity to them mattered.

She changed hotels twice.

It didn’t help.

Every time Sayori cried, she felt it, not relief when she calmed, but the anticipation of calm that didn’t come from hermanymore. That hurt more than she expected.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was terrified.

Terrified that her daughter’s first sense of safety wouldn’t be her.

On the fourth day, her phone rang.

Unknown number. Korean country code.

She stared at it for a long moment, heart thudding, then let it go to voicemail.

A minute later, a message appeared.

Namjoon:

I’m not calling to take anything from you.

I just want to talk.

For Sayori.

She breath caught.

He’d used her daughter’s name.

She hadn’t told anyone that name.

Her fingers trembled as she typed, deleted, typed again.

Her:

I didn’t come here for this.

The reply came almost immediately.

Namjoon:

Neither did we.

She laughed once, sharp and humorless, tears burning behind her eyes.

The room felt too small. The walls too thin.

Sayori stirred, making a soft sound, and she scooped her up automatically, pressing her close like she could block the world out by force of will.

“I’m trying to protect you,” she whispered. “I don’t know how else to do this.”

Sayori’s fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt.

For now, that was enough.

But she knew, deep down, in the same quiet place she’d always stored uncomfortable truths, that bloodlines had a way of pulling people back together.

Whether she was ready or not.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She’d agreed to meet them under three conditions.

One, public place.

Two, no touching the baby.

Three, this was temporary.

She wrote the last word twice, like repetition might make it real.

Namjoon’s reply was simple.

Agreed. On all three.

That unsettled her more than resistance would have.

—————

They met in a quiet cafe tucked between glass buildings and greenery, the kind of place designed to feel neutral. She arrived early, chose a corner table with her back to the wall, positioned the stroller so she could see the door and the street beyond it.

Control was survival.

Sayori slept, wrapped snug and oblivious, lashes resting against her cheeks. She kept one hand on the stroller handle at all times.

When they walked in, the room changed.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just… weight.

Seven men, moving together without crowding one another, instinctively aware of space in a way that made her shoulders tense despite herself. They didn’t wear masks. Didn’t hide. But they didn’t draw attention either, like the world unconsciously made room for them.

Jimin saw her first.

Again.

He slowed, something soft and restrained crossing his face before he caught himself. Namjoon followed his gaze and nodded once, subtly, like confirmation.

They approached carefully. No sudden movements. No reaching.

She noted all of it.

“Sit,” she said before anyone could speak, her voice quiet but unyielding. “Please.”

They did.

That unsettled her too.

—————

Up close, it was worse.

Not because they were beautiful, she’d expected that, distantly, abstractly, but because there was nothing predatory about them. No entitlement. No smug certainty. Just seven different flavours of restraint, all held tightly in check.

Namjoon spoke first. “Thank you for meeting us.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” She replied.

His gaze flicked briefly to Sayori, then back to her face. “We know.”

That honesty disarmed her more than flattery ever could.

Silence stretched.

Jungkook shifted, then stilled himself when Yoongi shot him a look. Jimin smiled faintly but didn’t push. Jin’s attention lingered on Sayori with something painfully gentle in his eyes before he deliberately looked away. 

Hoseok watched her.

Really watched her.

“You don’t feel it,” he said softly.

It wasn’t a question.

Her jaw tightened. “No.”

The word came out clean. Final.

Her wrist lay bare on the table, pale and unmarked.

Taehyung exhaled slowly. “But you feel something.”

She stood abruptly, hand tightening on the stroller. “That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

Namjoon raised his hands immediately. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He paused, choosing his words with care. “We aren’t here to convince you of anything. We just need you to know what the doctors confirmed.”

She laughed under her breath. “Confirmed? Like this is a business deal?”

“No,” Namjoon said. “Like this is a child.”

Her eyes flashed. “She’s my child.”

Every single one of them nodded.

Jin spoke for the first time, voice steady and low. “And you’re her mother. That’s not in question.”

Something inside her twisted.

She hadn’t expected that.

—————

Sayori stirred.

Not crying. Just waking.

The moment her eyes fluttered open, the air shifted.

She felt it, not the pull, but the attention. Seven pairs of it, instinctively orienting toward the stroller before they consciously stopped themselves.

Sayori blinked sleepily.

And smiled.

A slow, unfocused baby smile, her gaze drifting, past her shoulder, toward where the men sat.

Jimin’s breath hitched.

Her chest tightened painfully. “Don’t,” she warned, quiet and sharp. “Don’t do that.”

“We’re not,” Hoseok said quickly. “We swear.”

Sayori made a soft sound, content, and settled again.

Her hand shook as she adjusted the blanket.

“You see the problem,” she said, voice rough. “This isn’t neutral. This isn’t something I can just… manage.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s why we’re offering something temporary.”

She looked up sharply. “I already said—”

“Not ownership,” Namjoon continued. “Not custody. Not permanence. Just… proximity. Stability.”

Yoongi added, “For her.”

Her throat worked.

Temporary.

For her.

She hated how reasonable it sounded.

“How long,” she asked quietly, “before temporary becomes permanent?”

No one answered.

Because none of them would lie to her.

—————

When she left the cafe, nothing was resolved.

And yet, everything had shifted.

She walked the streets for hours afterward, Sayori warm against her chest, thoughts looping and tangling until she was exhausted by them.

Temporary wasn’t surrender.

Temporary was time.

And time, she knew, had a habit of changing things you swore never would.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She moved into the apartment on a Tuesday.

She told herself the day mattered because Tuesdays were neutral. Not beginnings. Not endings. Just something that happened in between.

The place was too nice. Clean lines. Soft lighting. A balcony overlooking a city that refused to slow down. It had been Namjoon’s suggestion, neutral territory, he’d said. Not theirs. Not hers. Somewhere temporary could pretend to exist without lying outright.

She hated how carefully they’d thought of everything.

She arrived with two suitcases, a stroller, and a spine stiff with determination. Namjoon met her at the door alone, hands visible, posture deliberately nonthreatening.

“We’ll keep distance,” he said immediately. “You’ll have the master bedroom. We won’t enter unless invited.”

She brushed past him without replying.

Sayori slept through the move, blissfully ignorant of the negotiation happening around her existence. She set up the bassinet with mechanical precision, unpacked diapers, bottles, clothes. She worked like if she stopped moving, she’d feel it, the way the air hummed differently here. The way her chest felt crowded.

The others arrived later.

One by one. Quiet. Respectful.

Jin left food in the kitchen and didn’t say a word. Hoseok smiled gently and retreated. Yoongi nodded once, eyes sharp and assessing but not unkind. Jungkook hovered awkwardly in doorways like a guard dog unsure of his role. Taehyung’s gaze lingered a second too long on Sayori before he looked away, jaw tight. Jimin…

Jimin kept his distance.

Which somehow made everything worse.

—————

She enforced rules like law.

No holding Sayori.

No being alone with her.

No assumptions.

She spoke softly but without apology.

“This isn’t your home,” she said on the third night, exhaustion thinning her patience. “This isn’t your family.”

Jungkook flinched.

Jimin didn’t look away. “We know.”

“Then act like it.”

They did.

That was the problem.

They were careful to a fault. Polite. Contained. It felt like living with seven men holding their breath indefinitely, and she could feel the strain of it in the way wrists clenched, jaws tightened, eyes tracked Sayori unconsciously before snapping away.

Sayori, for her part, was thriving.

Sleeping longer. Crying less. Smiling more.

She noticed.

She hated herself for noticing.

—————

The first crack came on a night she didn’t sleep at all.

Sayori had been fussy all evening, restless in a way she couldn’t soothe. She paced the living room, bouncing gently, murmuring reassurances that felt increasingly hollow.

“I’m here,” she whispered, over and over. “I’m here.”

Sayori cried anyway.

The sound was sharp. Distressed.

Her heart lurched painfully.

Before she could stop herself, she snapped, “Everyone stay where you are.”

She didn’t turn around, but she felt them freeze.

Her arms ached. Her head pounded. Tears burned hot behind her eyes, frustration clawing its way up her throat.

“I’ve got you,” she said, voice shaking now. “Please. I’ve got you.”

Sayori didn’t calm.

The pull hit her like a wave.

Not warmth. Not comfort.

Pressure.

The kind that reminded her she wasn’t alone in this, no matter how fiercely she tried to be.

She turned.

Jimin stood in the doorway, hands clenched at his sides, eyes dark with restraint. He hadn’t moved closer. Hadn’t reached out.

But Sayori’s cries softened the moment she saw him.

Not stopped.

Softened.

Her breath caught.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered.

Jimin’s voice was low, steady, aching. “I know.”

Something in her snapped.

“No,” she said sharply. “No. You don’t get to look at her like that. You don’t get to feel like that. You didn’t carry her. You didn’t wake up every hour. You didn’t—”

Her voice broke despite herself.

Jimin took a single step back.

“You’re right,” he said. “We didn’t.”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Sayori hiccupped, then slowly settled against her chest.

She sagged with relief and something dangerously close to grief.

“Not yours,” she said again, quieter this time. “She’s not.”

Jimin nodded once. “Okay.”

He turned and left the room.

She sank onto the couch, shaking.

She hated fate.

She hated the bond.

And most of all, she hated how deeply she could feel seven people choosing restraint over instinct, for her.

—————

Later that night, long after the apartment had gone quiet, she stood on the balcony with Sayori asleep against her shoulder.

The city lights blurred through unshed tears.

She pressed a kiss to Sayori’s hair, heart twisting painfully.

“I didn’t ask for help,” she whispered. “But I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Inside, seven men lay awake, wrists warm, instincts coiled tight, learning the hardest lesson fate had ever given them,

Love didn’t mean claiming.

It meant waiting.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

She started tracking patterns she didn’t want to admit existed.

She told herself it was habit, years in tech had wired her brain to notice systems, inputs, outputs. If something changed, there was always a reason. Always a variable.

But this wasn’t code.

This was her life bending around seven people she refused to acknowledge as permanent.

Sayori slept best between 9:40 and 10:30 p.m. when the apartment was quiet and everyone was home.

She fussed more when Jungkook was out late.

She calmed instantly when Namjoon read aloud in the living room, even from another room.

She laughed, actually laughed, for the first time when Hoseok danced absentmindedly while waiting for water to boil.

She noticed.

She hated that she noticed.

She kept herself busy. Remote work during Sayori’s naps. Noise cancelling headphones. Structured schedules. She minimised time in shared spaces, treated the apartment like a temporary office rather than a home.

Temporary. Temporary. Temporary.

The word began to feel thin.

—————

The pull changed shape.

At first it had been pressure, external, intrusive. Something acting on her.

Now it was… orientation.

She found herself unconsciously noting where each of them was. Not obsessively. Not emotionally. Just a quiet awareness, like knowing where exits were in a room.

Seven points of gravity.

She didn’t feel drawn to them.

She felt steadied by them.

That terrified her.

—————

The first time she got sick, she tried to hide it.

It was a simple thing, a fever, probably from exhaustion, but she waved it off, insisted she was fine. She carried Sayori anyway. Made bottles. Answered emails. Pushed through the fog because that was what she did.

Until she nearly dropped the baby.

It happened in the kitchen.

Her vision went white around the edges, her grip slipping for half a second too long. Sayori startled, a sharp cry ripping out of her.

Seven bodies moved at once.

Not toward her.

Toward the baby.

She recovered instantly, clutching Sayori tight, heart slamming painfully. “I’ve got her,” she snapped, panic sharpening her tone. “I’ve got her.”

They stopped. Every one of them.

Hands hovering in midair. Breath held.

Jimin looked like he might be sick.

Namjoon spoke carefully. “We know. But you’re not okay.”

“I am,” she insisted, though her legs shook. “I don’t need—”

“You,” Yoongi cut in, voice low and firm, “don’t get to decide that alone.”

Her eyes flashed. “Watch me.”

She turned away, retreating to her room and locking the door with a hand that trembled despite her best efforts.

Sayori quieted quickly once they were alone.

She sank onto the bed, fever-hot and furious, hugging her daughter close.

“I don’t belong to them,” she whispered. “We don’t.”

Sayori made a soft, sleepy sound that felt suspiciously like disagreement.

—————

The world noticed anyway.

It always did.

First it was speculation, anonymous posts, blurry photos taken at unfortunate angles. A woman. A baby. Proximity. Timing. Patterns fans were very good at recognising.

Then came theories.

Not wild ones. Careful ones.

A foreign woman. A newborn. Repeated sightings. Increased security.

Someone found a hospital record leak. Someone else traced flight manifests. Someone with too much time and too much conviction noticed her accent in a video taken outside a cafe.

The phrase soulmate pregnancy appeared on a forum at 2:13 a.m.

By 9 a.m., it was trending.

She found out because her phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.

She stared at the screen, heart sinking.

“They know,” she whispered.

The apartment went very still.

Namjoon read the headlines without expression. Jin closed his eyes. Hoseok swore under his breath. Jimin paced like a caged animal. Taehyung’s jaw tightened dangerously.

Jungkook went to her door and stopped.

Didn’t knock.

Just stood there.

She watched him through the crack in the door, chest tight.

“I’m not ready,” she said.

“I know,” he replied quietly. “But they won’t wait.”

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” Jungkook said, voice rough. “But you shouldn’t face it alone.”

She laughed bitterly. “That’s funny. I’ve been doing that my whole life.”

Jungkook met her gaze, eyes dark with something fierce and unwavering.

“Not anymore.”

—————

That night, she sat awake while Sayori slept, scrolling through articles that tore her apart with speculation and entitlement.

Who was she?

Where was she from?

Was the baby real?

Was it theirs?

She felt stripped bare.

They dug into her past. Her schooling. Her career. The fact that she had no soulmate mark.

Broken.

Defective.

Opportunist.

The words burned.

She shut the phone off and pressed it into the mattress like she could suffocate the noise.

Her chest felt tight. Her breath shallow.

For the first time since Sayori was born, she let herself cry.

Not loudly.

Quietly.

The way she always had.

The door opened softly.

Jin stood there, hesitant. “May I?”

She didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded.

He didn’t come closer than the foot of the bed. Just sat on the floor, back against the wall, close enough to be present but not invasive.

“They’ll try to make you disappear,” he said gently. “Or make you into something you’re not.”

She wiped her face roughly. “I just wanted to give her back and leave.”

Jin’s eyes softened painfully. “She’s not a package.”

“I know,” She snapped, then sighed, exhausted. “I know.”

Silence settled between them.

Finally, she whispered, “If I run… will she be okay?”

Jin didn’t answer immediately.

“No,” he said at last. “Not without you.”

That landed harder than anything else had.

She looked down at Sayori, heart twisting painfully.

Running had always worked before.

This time, it wouldn’t. 

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

The morning she decided to leave, the city was already on fire.

She knew before she opened her phone. You could feel it in the air, tight, electric, humming with attention. The kind that made even closed curtains feel transparent.

She checked anyway.

That was her mistake.

Her name, her real name, was everywhere.

Not just speculation anymore. Screenshots of old LinkedIn profiles. University articles. A conference photo pulled from a forgotten blog, her wrist cropped and circled in red. Headlines translated badly but aggressively.

MARKLESS WOMAN LINKED TO BTS BABY

SOULMATE FRAUD OR FATE ERROR?

WHO IS SAYORI’S MOTHER REALLY?

Her stomach dropped.

They weren’t asking questions.

They were assigning ownership.

She scrolled, numb.

Comments dissected her face, her clothes, her silence. Some were vicious. Others were worse, sympathetic in a way that erased her agency entirely.

She must be overwhelmed.

They’ll take care of her.

She should be grateful.

Grateful.

She shut the phone off with shaking hands.

Sayori slept in the bassinet, blissfully unaware that she had become public property overnight.

She moved quickly.

She packed with ruthless efficiency, clothes folded tight, essentials only. No sentiment. No hesitation. This wasn’t her first exit. She’d perfected the art of leaving before she could be cornered.

Her chest ached, but she ignored it.

The door opened.

Namjoon stood there, eyes dark and alert.

“You’re leaving,” he said.

Not a question.

She didn’t look at him. “I told you this was temporary.”

“It’s not safe.”

“For me,” she shot back. “Or for you?”

“For Sayori,” Namjoon replied calmly.

That made her pause.

“She needs me,” she said, quieter now.

Namjoon nodded once. “Yes. And she needs protection. Visibility just turned into a weapon.”

She scoffed. “You think I didn’t know that?”

“I think,” Namjoon said gently, “that you’re about to do what you always do. And this time, it won’t work.”

Her hands clenched around a folded onesie. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“No,” he agreed. “But the world already has.”

As if summoned by his words, noise erupted outside, shouting, camera shutters, chanting voices bleeding through the walls.

Her breath hitched.

“They’re here,” she whispered.

Namjoon didn’t move. “Yes.”

Her chest tightened painfully. Panic surged, sharp and disorienting.

“I won’t do this,” she said, voice cracking. “I won’t be watched like this. I won’t let them decide who I am. I won’t—”

Sayori cried.

The sound was sudden. Piercing.

She rushed to her, heart in her throat, scooping her up instinctively. “I know, baby, I know.”

But Sayori didn’t calm.

The cries escalated, sharp and distressed in a way she hadn’t heard before. Her small body trembled, fists clenched tight.

She rocked, paced, whispered, nothing worked.

Outside, the noise grew louder.

Inside, seven wrists burned.

They felt it instantly, panic rippling through the bond like a shockwave. Jungkook swore under his breath. Hoseok’s face went pale. Jin moved without thinking, stopping himself only inches closer than she had allowed before.

Sayori’s cries softened, but didn’t stop.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered. “She’s not supposed to need you.”

Jin’s voice was low, steady, devastating. “She doesn’t need us.”

He gestured gently, to her chest.

“She needs you. But she needs you safe.”

The word landed like a blow.

Safe.

She laughed weakly. “I’ve never been that.”

Jin met her gaze, unwavering. “You are now.”

Outside, security began moving people back. Inside, the apartment felt like a bunker.

She sank onto the couch, Sayori still crying softly against her chest. Her hands trembled, exhaustion finally crashing through the adrenaline.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

Seven men didn’t speak.

They didn’t rush her.

They simply stayed.

Minutes passed. Then more.

Sayori’s cries slowed. Softened. Stopped.

She slept.

She sagged with her, tears slipping free at last.

“I just wanted my life,” she said hoarsely.

Namjoon crouched in front of her, careful, respectful. “You still get one. It just… doesn’t look like what you planned.”

She looked down at her daughter, then up at the seven men who had become her shield without ever demanding the right.

The world had found her.

Running wasn’t an option anymore.

And for the first time since fate had carved itself into her life, she didn’t feel alone in the fallout.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

The backlash didn’t crest.

It collapsed inward.

What the media couldn’t get from she directly, they dug for elsewhere, with shovels and teeth and no sense of mercy. Old classmates. Former coworkers. A distant aunt who liked the sound of her own voice too much. Anyone with even a passing proximity to her became a source.

“She was always quiet.”

“Kept to herself.”

“Smart, but strange.”

“No soulmate mark? Yeah, people talked.”

The narrative formed quickly, efficiently, cruelly.

She was framed as an anomaly that had finally become useful.

A glitch fate corrected.

She read none of it.

She didn’t have to.

She felt it instead, in the way security doubled, then tripled. In the way her phone stayed off permanently. In the way the apartment became a sealed world where even sunlight felt filtered.

Sayori sensed it.

She was clingier now. Startled easily. She startled toward her, tiny body pressing closer whenever voices rose or footsteps echoed too loudly in the hall.

She stopped pretending she wasn’t unraveling.

She slept in snatches. Ate when reminded. Existed in a constant state of hypervigilance that left her hands trembling even when she was still.

One night, long past midnight, it all caught up to her.

Sayori wouldn’t settle.

Not crying, just restless. Whimpering softly like she was trying to say something her body didn’t have the language for yet. She paced the length of the apartment, heart racing, head pounding.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, it’s okay—”

It wasn’t.

The pressure built fast and merciless.

Her breath hitched. Her vision tunnelled. The walls felt too close, the air too thin.

She sat down hard on the couch, clutching Sayori to her chest like an anchor, like a shield, like the only real thing left.

“I can’t,” she gasped. “I can’t do this.”

The words tore out of her without permission.

Seven men were there within seconds, not crowding, not overwhelming, but present. A wall at her back. A perimeter around her panic.

Hoseok knelt in front of her.

Not close enough to touch.

Close enough to be seen.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

She tried.

Her chest seized, breath refusing to cooperate.

“I’m losing control,” she whispered. “I don’t— I don’t know how to stop.”

Hoseok’s eyes never left hers. “You don’t have to.”

Her hands shook violently now. Tears spilled unchecked, hot and humiliating. “I don’t belong here. I never did. I wasn’t meant for this. I wasn’t meant for you.”

The words tasted like failure.

Hoseok’s voice was quiet but unyielding. “You don’t get to decide what you were meant for while you’re drowning.”

She laughed weakly, hysterically. “That’s rich.”

Namjoon spoke from behind her, steady as a spine. “We’re not asking you to be anything. We’re asking you to rest.”

Rest.

The word felt foreign.

She shook her head. “If I stop—if I let go—I won’t get back up.”

Hoseok hesitated only a second.

“May I?” he asked.

She looked at him through tears, then down at Sayori’s tiny fist tangled in her shirt.

Her shoulders slumped.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Hoseok moved slowly, deliberately. He didn’t take Sayori. He didn’t crowd her.

He wrapped his arms around both of them.

The moment he did, something inside her broke cleanly in half.

Not pain.

Relief.

She collapsed forward with a sob that had been building for years, clutching at his shirt like she might fall apart without it. Her body shook violently, breath coming in broken gasps as the world finally stopped demanding she hold it together.

Hoseok held her.

Firm. Steady. No pressure. No claiming.

Just arms around a storm.

Sayori settled instantly, her small body relaxing like she’d been waiting for this exact configuration all along.

She cried until there was nothing left but quiet.

—————

When she woke, her face was pressed into fabric that smelled faintly like laundry soap and something warm and human. Her body felt heavy in a way that wasn’t painful.

Safe heavy.

She blinked.

Hoseok sat on the couch, back against the cushions, eyes half closed. One arm around her shoulders. The other cradling Sayori, who slept peacefully against his chest.

She froze.

He noticed immediately.

“I didn’t move,” he said quietly. “You fell asleep first.”

Her throat tightened. “I—”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Hoseok continued gently. “You didn’t choose this moment. You needed it.”

She swallowed hard.

For the first time since arriving in Korea, she didn’t pull away.

She just stayed.

Behind them, the others watched from a distance, Namjoon’s gaze thoughtful, Jin’s expression soft, Yoongi’s posture protective without being intrusive, Jimin blinking rapidly like he’d just witnessed something sacred, Jungkook gripping the doorframe to keep himself in check, Taehyung’s eyes dark with something ancient and fierce.

She rested her head back against Hoseok’s shoulder.

Just for a second.

Just long enough to breathe.

The storm outside raged on.

But inside, for the first time, she wasn’t alone in it.

☆·❋▪︎◇▪︎❋·☆

Morning arrived softly.

Not with sirens or headlines or the low hum of panic that had become her constant companion, but with light. Pale, hesitant sunlight slipping through the curtains like it was asking permission.

She woke slowly.

Her body ached in the way it did after a long cry, but it was an honest ache. Clean. Like something had finally been released instead of compressed tighter.

She was still on the couch.

Hoseok had shifted sometime in the night, careful even in sleep. His arm was still around her, loose now, respectful. Sayori lay between them, warm and solid, tiny chest rising and falling in deep, content sleep.

She stared at her daughter for a long moment.

Not with panic.

Not with denial.

Just… recognition.

“I’m still here,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Hoseok stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

She carefully extricated herself, heart racing even though nothing was wrong, and stood. She expected the familiar pull, the panic, the urge to retreat, the instinct to run.

It didn’t come.

Instead, she felt something quieter.

Choice.

—————

The apartment was awake by degrees.

Namjoon stood at the counter making coffee, sleeves pushed up, wrist mark faintly glowing like it was finally at peace. He looked up when she entered, surprise flickering briefly across his face before he schooled it into calm.

“Good morning,” he said gently.

She nodded. “Morning.”

No tension. No negotiation.

Just a greeting.

Jin appeared next, hair rumpled, eyes soft. Jimin followed, offering a small, hopeful smile. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, assessing her with the sharp care of someone who had already decided to defend her whether she asked for it or not. Jungkook hovered behind them, restless but contained. Taehyung watched from the corner, gaze steady, unreadable, but undeniably there.

Seven men.

Not looming.

Waiting.

She noticed that.

“I’m not staying because I’m cornered,” she said quietly.

No one interrupted.

“I’m not staying because the world is loud or because you’re… you,” she continued, gesturing vaguely. “I’m staying because my daughter deserves stability. And because running doesn’t work anymore.”

Namjoon inclined his head slightly. “Understood.”

She exhaled. “This doesn’t mean I belong to you.”

Hoseok, now awake and standing a respectful distance away, met her eyes. “We know.”

“And I may never feel what you feel,” she added, glancing down at her bare wrist. “I may never have a mark. I may never wake up one day and suddenly believe in fate.”

Yoongi’s mouth curved faintly. “That’s okay.”

She blinked. “It is?”

Jimin shrugged lightly. “Love doesn’t need symmetry.”

That startled her more than anything else had.

She looked down at Sayori, now awake and blinking sleepily in her arms. Her daughter yawned, then smiled, wide and unguarded, at the room, at the people she had already accepted without question.

Her chest tightened.

“I’m choosing this,” she said, voice firmer now. “Day by day. And if I choose to leave someday—”

Namjoon cut in gently, “—we will still protect her.”

“And you,” Jin added softly.

She swallowed.

For the first time, that didn’t feel like a threat.

It felt like a promise she hadn’t been forced into.

—————

Later, alone in the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed and rolled up her sleeve.

Her wrist was still bare.

No symbol.

No glow.

No mark of destiny carving itself into her skin.

She traced the place absently with her thumb, then let her arm fall.

She smiled, small, tired, real.

Still markless.

Still chosen.

Still choosing.

Outside, seven people laughed quietly over burnt toast and strong coffee. Sayori’s giggle rang out, bright and fearless, anchoring something ancient and new into place.

The world would keep watching.

The storm would return in different shapes.

Nothing was resolved forever.

But she stayed.

Not because fate demanded it.

Because this time—

she decided to.

If you have read this far, thank you! Please don't be a silent reader let me know what you liked and didn't like and please feel free to browse the other works I have released.

And almost on que, just as you round the corner there it is, Momenatre Gallery in it's glory and along with it, torrential downpour and the crosswalk signals turn to a little orange walking man. At this moment your only worry is about seeking shelter within the gallery as you run across the crosswalk clutching your tote bag and to the doors of the gallery, thankful to whoever designed the building for having a little ledge just above the entrance as you no longer feel the warm pellets against your skin as you open up the heavy door, trying your best to wipe off your feet and shake yourself off before entering the gallery.

You don't know what you expected as you walked into the gallery, but you almost expected it to be the size of an art museum naively, much like the Art Institute of Chicago. Standing in the lobby, taking in the tasteful decor and plum red accent wall you're met with you fist walk in.

"Would you like a map of the gallery, Ma'am?"

Turning around you're greeted with an doorman you can only assume from his attire, an older Beta you confirm from his mild basil scent as he steps forward to extended a map towards you from the small pile in his hand.

You take the map, looking down at it as your fingers stick to the glossy material of it from then still being damp from your encounter with the downpour. "Thank you-" Your eyes adverting to his silver name tag over his heart, "Bernard." Exchanging polite smiles, eyes shifting back down to open up the map to figure out where the exhibit Jamie is apart of is located.

"Sorry I wasn't there to open up open the door for you, Ma'am, I was a little distracted," Bernard apologizes and your head whips up at both the fact you are getting an apology right now and the abrupt cough the echos throughout the gallery. Looking over your shoulder to the front desk to see the coughing culprit, an older woman with bright copper hair and thin wire glasses who eyes the doorman, but looks back to her monitor screen when she catches you looking at her as well. And when you look back at Bernard, whose eyes are still on the front desk worker despite her trying to busy herself, your eyebrows raise, you interrupted workplace flirting.

When Bernard focuses on you again he gives you a shy smile that accentuates his wrinkles of his eyes and his smile lines and you just give a wide smile back to him. "Promise I won't hold it against you," You muse.

"Very well then, I'll let you see the art now."

Nodding you turn and begin to walk, shifting your tote up your shoulder once more with the hand that holds the open gallery map. Eyeing the front desk worker when you past by it, her eyes peeking over the top of the monitor, giving her the same wide smile you gave the doorman.

It seems the way the gallery floor plan is, is that the exhibit Jamie is apart of is in the very back of the gallery, or well wind of the gallery as the various rooms surround the off-centered outside courtyard. As you enter the first room of art displays you take in how quiet the gallery is, albeit it's weekday, but it's also a weekday that had an outburst of rain. Feeling a little pep in your still squishily damp sneaker knowing that you won't have to brush shoulder with anyone or have to get frustrated from getting caught behind someone who has no awareness that other people around them since you're the only person who took refuge in the gallery and the few other visitors who you sometimes cross paths with who were here prior to you.

Floating through the first few rooms, slow walking past each art piece. You occasionally stopped to read the artist descriptors next to pieces that piqued your interest until you felt bad for not reading every other's descriptors, all worthy art that deserves to be seen and known. When you finished reading the last descriptor of this specific exhibit you floated to the next, a noticeable shift upon entering the new room at all for walls are painted a navy blue, lights cascading upon a massive sculpture made of twisted, rusted metal in the center of the room. Eyes darting around only for the sculpture to be the only thing in the room, and you admire the galleries trust in it's visitors as the sculpture is only on a slightly raised podium that you can only assume it's bolted into so no accidents occur. But other than that, no protective measures of the art are made, no elegant rope fencing it off, just a small stand next to the sculpture that reads at the top in capitalized and bold wording, "PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH". And just below it is the title along with the author's name and descriptor, 'Despair' you read out loud, looking back up towards the sculpture and you can't help but chuckle. Because, yeah, it really does perfectly encapsulate the feeling of despair as you eyes rake over the twist and crooks of the metal, getting lost as you try to follow where the sculpture eventually becomes one.

You were staring at it, trying to find some deeper meaning, when a smooth, low voice startled you.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” A smooth, low voice startles you from behind.

You flinch, shoulders raising to touch your ears as you turn around to see a man standing behind you, now facing him face to face. He was tall, with smooth jet black hair that looks both meticulously but carelessly styled from the glasses pushed on top of his dead, his stature is softened by a cream-colored buttoned up, the sleeve pushed up to his elbows and the length of the button up tucked into brown slacks. Brown almond eyes and a sense of knowing that he had just frazzle you pulling at the corners of his mouth. He smells like the ocean, not salty bad, but salty good, like you just ran along the beach, and something else, something cleaner and neutral. A beta.

“I, uh," Losing you train of thoughts when the man's eyes widen, waiting for your answer, but you can only shift back and forth on your heels as you try to straighten yourself out and not try to visibly cringe from your socks still being damp. "I was just trying to figure out if it was supposed to be a tree or a…" Turning around you look back to the sculpture, hands gesturing towards it, and now you're made very away the galleries map is still in your hand. "very abstract octopus,” you admitted, flustered. Turning back around to expect the man's eyes to be on the sculpture trying to also determine what it is, but instead when you do do his eyes are still on you, so you just wiggle your lips, trying to configure them into a small smile.

When he lets out a soft, airy laugh your shoulders deflate. "The artist said it represents the weight of modern existence, trying to do too many people in one body to please others." He pauses, now looking past you and to the sculpture, his eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing. "But personally," He begins, a quick peek of tongue swipes over his lips, his chin is now lifted, eyes no longer narrowed, but his eyebrows are still furrowed. Coming up with his own interpretation of the piece. "I think you're right. It looks like a depressed octopus. But it also looks like an elephant standing on it's hind legs if you look at it like this."

Now it's time for your eyebrows to furrow, looking over your shoulder before you get his hint and you move to stand beside him. A final look at him to note how he's standing and imitate your body to do the same, lifting you chin and look a the sculpture in its entirety. You eyebrows relax when you start to see the elephant take shape.

"Yeah, I can see it," You agree, taking the gallery map in the other hand of the side that your tote bag is on, so you're now free hand can trace the figure of the elephant. Laughing as you, because it constantly amazes you how art can take multiple shapes. "That actually makes me feel less stupid now, thanks."

Your arm falls to your side to take a look at the man once more, only to notice that he has a glimmering silver name tag like the doorman, Bernard. Only his reads "Taehyung".

a/n. be on the look out for chapter two's teaser tomorrow!

Yoongi’s gaze flickers briefly toward the tray, then back to you. “You keep saying that,” he says, his tone low but not unkind, “you think it’ll make us trust you?”

The words catch you off guard. “I just think it’s better than starving.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes narrowing just a little, as if searching for the catch. “You humans and your kindness,” he mutters. “It always comes with a price.”

You bite the inside of your cheek before answering. “If there’s a price, it’s just making sure no one dies in my house.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. 

Finally, Yoongi exhales, shifting slightly in the sheets. “We didn’t ask to be here.”

“I know,” you reply. “But you are. And until you can walk without looking like you’re about to pass out, it kinda looks like you’re staying.”

He studies you for a long moment, eyes narrowing just a little. When he finally looks away, you can’t tell if it’s in acceptance or restraint.

Finally he breaks the silence. “You shouldn’t keep the curtains open,” he says quietly. “Too easy to spot movement from outside.”

You glance toward the thin strip of light spilling through the gap in the fabric. “Are you saying someone’s watching?”

He shrugs, “they could be. You have two hybrids in your house. I’m sure you’re smart enough to tell we were being hunted.”

You swallow hard and force yourself to breathe evenly. The word hunted sits heavy in the air.

“Then I’ll close them,” you say softly, and move to do just that.

Neither stops you. But you can feel their eyes follow you until the very last sliver of daylight disappears behind the fabric.

You gulp before turning back around, “who’s hunting you?” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away. He looks tired, worn in a way that no amount of sleep could fix. “If you’re lucky,” he says, voice quiet enough to barely carry, “you won’t have to find out.”

The room falls silent again. Only the soft tick of the clock fills the air, slow and steady. You think about the untouched food, the drawn curtains, the way Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off the window.

Then, cutting through the heavy quiet, comes a low, unmistakable sound.

Your eyes flick toward Yoongi. His stomach growls softly, breaking the silence like a fragile thread snapping.

He exhales through his nose, almost embarrassed, looking away. “Ignore that,” he mutters.

You blink. “You haven’t eaten since you got here.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I can practically hear your stomach begging you to be reasonable.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t answer.

From the corner, Taehyung lifts his head slightly, golden eyes watching the exchange with quiet awareness. His tail flicks once, slow and deliberate, like he’s judging the situation and finding both of you equally foolish.

You cross your arms. “You don’t have to trust me. But at least trust the fact that you’re still alive because I didn’t let you die in my shed.”

Yoongi’s gaze meets yours again, sharp despite the fatigue in it. “And what do you expect me to do? Sit here and pretend everything’s normal? That you’re helping out of kindness?”

“I expect you to eat,” you say simply. “That’s it.”

For a long moment, neither of you move. The sound of the clock down the hall ticks faintly between your words.

Finally, Yoongi sighs. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

You send him a smile, “nope. If you’re gonna be here awhile you’re gonna have to get used to it.”

His eyes narrow, but in the next moment he reaches out for the bowl of ramen on the tray. His hand trembles just slightly as he lifts it, and you notice him glance toward Taehyung before taking a small cautious sip.

Taehyung’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t move closer. He just keeps watching, chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

For a while, the only sound in the room is the faint clink of the spoon against the bowl. Yoongi doesn’t eat much, but it’s more than nothing and for now, that’s enough for you. You watch the lines in his face ease slightly as the warmth settles into him.

Then, from beside the bed, there’s a low huff.

You turn, and there’s Taehyung. You hadn’t realized he hopped off the bed until he’s right next to you. His fur brushing lightly against your leg as he nudges you with the side of his head. The movement startles you at first but there’s no aggression in it. Just a slow, deliberate push, like he’s trying to get your attention.

You blink, unsure what to do, “what is it?”

Yoongi makes a low sound that might be a sigh. “He wants you to feed him.”

You glance between them. “You’re serious?”

Yoongi lifts one shoulder lazily, leaning back against the wall.

You look back at Taehyung. His eyes meet yours and then he nudges the tray of food gently with his nose, a soft rumble vibrating in his chest.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re just one giant house cat,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the plate.

You hold out two strips of bacon, and he moves forward with surprising gentleness for something so large. His nose brushes your fingers before he takes it carefully like he knows he could hurt you if he’s not. His tongue grazes your hand, warm and rough, before he pulls back to chew.

Another quiet rumble rises from his chest, deep and content.

“See?” you murmur, handing him another piece. “Not so scary when you’re fed.”

Yoongi watches from the bed, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t get too comfortable with him,” he says after a moment. “He’s still a predator.”

You glance up at him. “So are you.” 

For a heartbeat, neither of you look away. Then Yoongi exhales softly, looking toward the window instead.

Taehyung finishes the last piece and nudges your hand once more, a quiet, grateful sound rumbling low in his throat.

You can’t help the faint smile that slips through. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.” You brush your fingers against his fur; “by the way… why is he a tiger?” you finally ask, glancing at Yoongi. “I thought hybrids were… half human, half animal.”

Yoongi leans back against the pillows. “We can shapeshift,” he says simply. “I’m just too weak right now to shift. It takes too much energy.”

You frown, glancing at Taehyung. “So… he’s keeping this form because he doesn't want to change?”

Yoongi nods slowly. “We’re stronger in our animal form. Sometimes we choose to stay in these forms because we’re scared.”

You glance at Yoongi, his golden eyes fixed on you, sharp and probing despite the fatigue and fever that still lingers in his features. Taehyung’s massive head rests lightly against the floor by your feet.

“Why are you helping us?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence

You blink caught off guard by the question, setting the plate down slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. “Because… I’m a nurse,” you say, voice tentative but steady. “It’s what I do. I don’t care what species you are. Hurt people need help. That’s it.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The silence stretches again, heavy and cautious, punctuated only by the soft hiss of the wind outside. You can feel the weight of his scrutiny, but it doesn’t feel hostile. Just… uncertain.

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind. 

You push yourself up slowly, stretching your legs. “I’m going outside for a bit,” you say, your voice careful, almost casual.

You glance at him, then at Taehyung who’s still lying low, watching. “I need to clean the blood from the shed. If someone’s been hunting you… having that out there isn’t helping anyone. We’re practically asking for them to come find you.”

His eyes widen in surprise. Taehyung, still in his tiger form, shifts slightly, ears pricked forward. Neither of them expected you to care this much.

You don’t notice their reactions, too focused on creating a mental checklist on what to buy from the store. 

Yoongi’s voice, quieter than usual, cuts through the air: “You… really mean that?”

You pause, rags in hand, and glance toward the window. “I mean it,” you reply firmly. “I don’t know who’s out there, but I’m not leaving this for them to find.”

The quiet that follows is telling. Even Taehyung doesn’t move, his massive head tilting slightly as if trying to process that a human—you—would care enough to act, even for hybrids like them.

You step out, shutting the guest room door behind you with care, leaving them watching from the safety of the room. The crisp morning air hits your face, filling your lungs as you move toward the shed. Every footstep feels deliberate, not just because of the blood you’re about to clean, but because you know they’re watching, waiting to see if you’ll actually follow through.

By the time you reach the shed, the full weight of the situation hits. “Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, “let’s get this done.”

You kneel to inspect them, frowning. The wood’s rough texture has already absorbed too much. You realize you don’t have everything you need. All you had was a rag and some dish soap. No hydrogen peroxide, no scrub brush, nothing to really get it deep into the wood grain.

Still, you do your best. Dipping the rag into soapy water, you scrub at the worst spots, rinsing and wringing repeatedly. It doesn’t disappear completely, but at least the surface looks cleaner, and the sharp metallic smell fades slightly. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than leaving it untouched.

A sigh escapes you. Looks like a trip to the store is unavoidable. You glance back toward the window where Yoongi and Taehyung watch silently. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in an hour,” you call, trying to keep your voice calm, though your stomach knots at the thought of leaving them even for a few minutes.

The two of them remain still, their eyes tracking your movements as you head toward the car, determined to come back armed with the right tools to erase every trace.

The drive to the store is quiet. By the time you park, you’ve already made a mental list: bleach, gloves, scrub brush, disinfectant spray. Everything that will let you clean the shed properly without leaving traces behind.

You step through the sliding doors of the store, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A part of you can’t help but glance around nervously. Each aisle feels like it could be a stage, every other shopper a silent observer of your secret.

Grabbing a shopping cart, you start moving down the cleaning aisle. Bleach, disinfectant spray, hydroxide—you check off the items quickly. You mutter under your breath, “god, I hope no one thinks I’m covering up a murder scene…”

Pushing the cart toward the meat section, your mind drifts back to Yoongi and Taehyung. Not that you need to worry about normal grocery decisions for yourself, but… what kind of meat does a panther like Yoongi prefer? Or a tiger like Taehyung? You stare at the rows of beef, chicken, and pork, trying to imagine what would appeal to them in their current state.

Yoongi, still weak, probably won’t have a big appetite but you want something he can actually eat. Something familiar, something that will make him feel a little more like himself. 

You pick up a few pounds of steak and some raw chicken. You pause, feeling a sense of surrealism. Shopping for meat for wild creatures in your own house wasn’t something you ever imagined you’d be doing.

Just as you reach for a package of chicken, two men step into your aisle. Their uniforms catch the fluorescent light, and your stomach drops. 

One of them steps closer, eyes scanning you carefully. “Evening,” he says, voice clipped. “Do you live around here?”

You nod, keeping your tone calm. “Yeah, just down the street,” you lie.

The other man tilts his head, studying you carefully. “We had reports of large animals. Seen or heard near your property?”

You tilt your head, “large animals? You mean like large wild animals?”

They exchange a quick glance. “Yeah exactly. It’s nothing to worry about but you see we just wanted to ask a few questions.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your expression neutral. “I understand,” you say evenly. “Ask away.”

The taller man leans slightly closer, his eyes scanning you with a measured curiosity. “Did you notice anything unusual around here lately? Any signs of large animals that aren’t native in these parts of the world?”

You shrug, keeping your tone calm. “No. I haven’t seen anything like that. Just shopping, that’s all.”

His partner flips open a small notebook, jotting something down. “And you’re certain? No sounds, no tracks, nothing odd?”

“I’m certain,” you reply, keeping your hands visible on the counter. “I didn’t see anything.”

The men exchange a brief look, then nod. “Alright. Thank you Miss.”

You offer a polite nod. “Of course.”

You keep your distance, pretending to browse the meat, but your eyes follow them. The two men approach another shopper, asking similar questions. You notice the person flinch slightly at their presence, but quickly nod and answer.

You let out a quiet breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders easing slightly. Glancing back at the meat section, your focus sharpens. The stakes are higher than ever, but for now, the men have moved on, and your priorities are clear: pick the right food and get back to Yoongi and Taehyung.

You shove the last grocery bag into the trunk, the plastic crackling under your hands. You pull out of the parking lot and onto the road leading toward the outskirts of town. The city slowly fades behind you, replaced by fields, then scattered houses, then the familiar thick wall of forest that closes in around the winding road.

You thought the drive home would be uneventful. That was until something massive lunged from the trees.

“Shit—!”

You slam the brakes.

Your car screeches. Your body snaps forward, seatbelt digging into your chest. You can hear what sound like all of your groceries tumbling in the back seat.

But you barely pay any attention to that. Because right in front of your car stands a bear

Your heart stops. Sure you live in the woods but you’ve never come across an actual bear before. 

The bear turns his head slowly toward you. And your eyes lock. That’s when it dawns on you.

This isn’t a wild animal staring at your car. This is something intelligent. Something aware. And that’s when you see it—

The unmistakable glint of metal tag, one that looked identical to the one you found in your backyard.

Your breath catches.

Then, without warning, he darts across the rest of the road and disappears into the trees, his massive form swallowed by the underbrush.

You sit there in the middle of the lane, stunned, hands trembling against the steering wheel.

“Am I dreaming?” you breathe, voice barely audible. But the skid marks on the road say otherwise. Before you can piece your thoughts together, branches snap loudly from the same direction the bear came.

You tense, expecting another big animal to make an appearance. 

Two men burst out from between the trees, panting hard, their clothes snagged with twigs and leaves. You narrow your eyes, those aren’t officers, or trackers, or anyone official-looking.

Just regular men. Late thirties maybe. Work boots.

One spits into the dirt. “I told you it went this way,” he huffs.

The other mutters, “Damn thing’s faster than it looks…”

As they straighten up, one of them finally notices your car. A clear view of your pale face behind the windshield along with your car angled awkwardly across the road.

He nudges his friend and points toward you. The men exchange a quick look before walking toward your car, not slowly, not cautiously.

Your pulse spikes.

One of them stops by your window, leaning down just enough for you to see the sweat on his forehead. He gently knocks at your window, motioning for you to roll it down. You open your window just a crack, just enough to communicate without your whole face being exposed.

“Evening Miss,” he says, trying to sound casual but failing. “You, uh… you see something run through here just now?”

The other man stays a few steps back, scanning the trees, looking impatient, like they’re terrified of losing the trail.

Your hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles pale against the leather. The two men stare at you, waiting for your answer.

You force your voice out, thin but steady enough. “I… yeah. I saw a bear.”

The men exchange a look and something about that expression makes your stomach twist.

But in that split second, an image flashes through your mind:

The silver tag glinting at the bear’s neck. 

You glance at the woods, heart hammering. If you tell them the truth, they’ll cut straight into the brush where he vanished. They’ll find him. They’ll corner him. And they won’t treat him like anything but a trophy.

You lift a shaky hand and gesture in the opposite direction of where the bear actually fled.

“I think it ran that way,” you say, pointing down the road, toward a shallow ditch.

The men whip their heads in that direction. “You sure?” the taller one asks.

“Yeah. Positive. He almost hit my car and bolted that way.”

They don’t question it further.

The shorter man exhales hard. “Damn. We must’ve scared him off. Thanks for the heads-up.”

You nod quickly, hoping your face doesn’t betray what a bad liar you are.

“Be careful driving,” the taller one adds. “Don’t wanna hit the thing if it circles back.”

Then they hurry off, not into the woods where you saw the hybrid disappear… But down the road in the direction you pointed.

Their heavy boots thud against the pavement, echoing until they fade into the distance. Only when they’re gone, when the forest is quiet again and the road is empty, do you finally let out the breath you’d been holding.

You tell yourself you need to keep moving and get back home. You reach for the gear shift, ready to pull forward, when something on the pavement ahead of your bumper catches the light.

You lean forward, squinting through the windshield. A small metal item lies on the asphalt, reflecting a thin stripe of sunlight. 

It’s the tag.

The same one you saw hanging from the bear’s neck only moments ago, and the same style as the tag you found in your backyard the day Yoongi and Taehyung first appeared. Your heart sinks with the realization that he must have lost it in the scramble across the road.

You put the car in park and step out carefully, the gravel crunching beneath your shoes as you walk toward it. When you crouch down, the metal feels faintly warm from the animal’s body heat. You turn it over in your hand and recognize the faint scratches and worn edges you had seen before. It truly is the same tag.

However, something new catches your attention. When you flip it to the back, an engraving you didn’t notice before stares up at you. A clean, deliberate marking that stands out sharply against the metal surface: 903.

You stare at the number for a long moment, unsure how to process it. The inscription looks official and systematic. Whoever this bear is, someone assigned him a number. Someone gave him this identifier. 

Standing in the quiet road with the metal tag clenched in your hand, you feel a shifting awareness settle over you. Whatever is happening with hybrids is far more organized and far more unsettling than you initially understood. The idea that these creatures are being cataloged or controlled in some way makes your skin prickle.

You finally straighten, the forest still pressing in around you. The bear is long gone, lost somewhere among the trees, but the lingering impression in his eyes stays with you in a way you can’t shake. You take a slow, steady breath, glance once more into the woods, and hold the tag tightly before returning to your car.

Once your hands stop trembling enough to hold the wheel, you start the engine again. The tires roll slowly over the asphalt as you ease back onto the road, casting one last glance at the tree line. 

As your house finally comes into view through the trees, your chest tightens. You don’t see anything unusual from the outside, but you still feel the lingering tension of earlier events prickling along your skin. You pull into the driveway, kill the engine, and glance again at the silver tag sitting on the passenger seat. The number 903 reflects faintly in the dim light.

You grab the groceries, tuck the tag safely into your pocket, and step out of the car with a single thought running through your mind.

You need to check on Yoongi and Taehyung before anything else happens.

You unlock the door and slip inside, closing it behind you as quietly as possible.

You set the grocery bags down in the kitchen, not bothering to put anything away yet. Your focus is fixed on the hallway leading to the guest room.

Your footsteps soften instinctively as you make your way down the hall. The closer you get, the more aware you become of the tension coiling in your stomach. What if they tried to leave, even in their condition? What if the hunters followed the scent? What if something happened while you were gone?

You reach the guest room door and pause for a moment, your fingers brushing the handle. You push the door open gently.

The room is still cool, shadows stretching across the floor. Yoongi is awake, still propped against the wall. His eyes lift immediately when you enter.

Taehyung is lying near the bed, still in his tiger form. His ears twitch the moment the hinges creak, and his head lifts. Golden eyes fixed on you as if scanning you from head to toe for any sign of injury.

You take one step inside and Yoongi’s gaze sharpens. “You took longer than you said you would,” he grumbles.

You close the door behind you. “I know I’m sorry. Something happened on the way here.”

Yoongi studies your expression, his eyes narrowing slightly at the tension in your shoulders.

Before he can ask anything else, there’s a low, rumbling sound beside the bed.

Taehyung slowly pushes himself up from his resting spot, wincing a little but determined. His tiger form is massive up close, and the sudden movement makes your breath catch for a moment. You still aren’t completely used to having a creature his size so near, especially one capable of flattening you with a single swipe if he ever wanted to.

But instead of acting threatening, he pads toward you with slow, deliberate steps. His head lowers, his whiskers brushing your hip as he starts sniffing around your side.

You stiffen, confused, your hand hovering uncertainly in the air. “What… what are you doing?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, of course, but he nudges more insistently at your pocket. His ears flick in concentration, nostrils flaring as he inhales again, deeper this time. Yoongi watches the scene from the bed, his brows pulling together.

Taehyung nudges your pocket once more, then lets out a low rumble that sounds almost impatient.

Only then does realization strike you.

You reach inside, fingers closing around the cool piece of metal you almost forgot was there. When you pull the tag out and hold it up, Taehyung’s pupils expand immediately, his tail going still behind him.

Yoongi doesn’t react at first.

But then he sees the tag fully.

His eyes widened.

The change is subtle but unmistakable. “Where,” Yoongi says quietly, “did you get that?”

You glance between him and the tag, suddenly getting nervous at how shaken he suddenly looks. “I… found it on the road. A bear ran in front of my car and dropped it. I think it’s the same one I saw in the yard before.”

Yoongi’s stare doesn’t soften.

If anything, it grows heavier.

Yoongi doesn’t move at first. He simply stares at the tag in your hand as if the sight of it reaches somewhere far deeper than pain or exhaustion. 

Taehyung steps closer, lowering his head beside your hand. He sniffs the metal again, and a low, uneasy rumble vibrates through his chest. It isn’t aggressive; it sounds like recognition laced with worry.

Yoongi’s hands tighten in the sheets. His voice, when it finally comes, is quiet in a way that feels almost dangerous. “That tag…” He swallows, his jaw tense. “It belonged to one of my brothers.”

The words settle heavily in the room.

Your breath catches. “Your brother?”

Yoongi nods slowly, eyes locked on the tag. “There were seven of us.” His gaze softens for the briefest moment, though the exhaustion in his face turns that softness into something mournful. “We were always kept together… until the night everything fell apart.”

Taehyung shifts beside you, his large body leaning in slightly, confirming Yoongi’s statement without words. His ears flatten in quiet distress.

You stare down at the tag, suddenly aware of how cold it’s become in your hand. “This number… 903,” you murmur, turning it over gently, “that belonged to your brother?”

Yoongi’s jaw clenches. “Yes. He’s the youngest.” He exhales shakily, and you realize he’s not just tired. He’s rattled in a way he can’t fully hide. “His name is Jungkook.”

Taehyung lets out a soft, low chuff that sounds painfully sad.

A chill spreads down your spine.

Your grip tightens around the small metal disc as the weight of the situation sinks in. The bear you nearly hit wasn’t just a random hybrid. He was their family.

Yoongi looks back at you, the intensity in his gaze returning with startling force. “You need to tell me exactly what happened on that road,” he says quietly. “Every detail.”

You sit down slowly at the edge of the bed, the tag resting in your hand like it weighs far more than a scrap of metal should. Yoongi’s gaze stays fixed on you with a level of focus that cuts straight through the fatigue you’d seen in him moments ago. Taehyung settles beside you, still in his tiger form, his presence warm and tense at your side as if bracing himself for what you’re about to say.

You clear your throat. “I was coming back from the store. I had just gotten past the city and into the tree line when a bear ran out of the forest and almost hit my car.”

You continue, speaking carefully so you don’t miss anything. “I stopped in the middle of the road. He stood right in front of me. And when he turned his head… I saw the tag.”

You swallow, “he got scared and bolted into the woods. And a few seconds later, two men came running out from the same spot. They weren’t in uniforms. They just looked like regular people who’d run themselves ragged chasing something through the forest.”

Yoongi’s eyes sharpen, darkening with something colder than anger. “Hunters.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m pretty sure they were hunting him.”

You pull in a breath, remembering the way the men stared you down. “They came to my car and asked if I’d seen anything. I panicked and just told them I saw a bear run across the road. But I pointed them in the wrong direction so they wouldn’t follow him.”

Yoongi's eyes widen slightly, and for a moment his face softens, “thank you.”

You continue softly, “He dropped the tag when he ran. That’s how I found it.” You carefully present the tag to him. He hesitates but with trembling hands he reaches out nonetheless and clenches it tightly in the palm of his hand. 

Yoongi’s jaw tightens again, but his voice steadies as he asks, “How did he look?”

You hesitate. “He looked exhausted. Scared. Like he’d been running for a long time.”

Taehyung lowers his head, resting his chin lightly on the edge of your knee, a gesture that is both grounding and heartbreaking. His tail curls close to his body.

The moment stretches uncomfortably, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You suddenly feel small standing in the middle of something you barely understand—hybrids, hunters, escaped family members, numbers engraved into cold metal. Everything feels too big, too dangerous.

Your fingers close around the tag again, gripping it until the metal presses into your palm.

“Yoongi…” you say, voice softer now, almost unsure. “I don’t know what to do here.”

Yoongi’s eyes shift to you immediately.

“I mean—” you continue, swallowing hard, “I don’t know how to help you. Or him. Or if I even should. I don’t know the rules, or what’s too risky, or what could get all of us killed. Hell, just a few days ago I didn’t even think your kind actually existed. I thought maybe it could’ve all just been one big conspiracy theory.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze.

“Just tell me… what should I do?”

For the first time since you’ve met him his gaze seemed to have softened. Then, almost painfully slow, he looks away. His shoulders sink just a little. The sadness on his face is quiet, restrained, but unmistakable.

“I don’t think you want to be involved with our kind,” he murmurs.

The words aren’t sharp or defensive. They’re tired, almost defeated, like he’s already bracing himself for disappointment. Taehyung lowers his head beside you again, watching Yoongi with ears slightly back, as if he disagrees but doesn’t know how to argue.

“The humans we have met,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “They don’t know the meaning of kindness. They’re powerful and dangerous individuals.” 

He still refuses to look at you, his eyes fixed on the floor as though the truth is easier to say when he’s not facing your reaction.

“I don’t want you caught in that,” he finishes quietly. “Not because you’re weak… but because you don’t deserve the consequences that follow hybrids like us.”

His expression stays turned away from you, but the room feels heavier now.

His words hang in the air between you. It’s not meant to push you out, but to protect you from something he’s certain you can’t handle. Taehyung stays close, his presence warm against your side, and you feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You swallow hard.

“I am scared,” you admit, your voice low but honest. “All of this is… a lot. You, Taehyung, your brother, the hunters. This entire world of hybrids that barely anyone even knows exists. It’s terrifying.”

Yoongi’s shoulders tense, and for a brief moment he closes his eyes, as if bracing himself for you to pull away from everything entirely.

“But,” you continue softly, “being scared doesn’t mean I’m just going to walk away.”

His eyes open again at that, lifting slightly in your direction though he still doesn’t fully turn to face you.

“I didn’t ask to find you,” you say, fingers brushing lightly over Taheyung’s fur, “but I did. And you weren’t dangerous. You were hurt. Taehyung was hurt. Whoever your brother is… he looked terrified out there. And I can’t pretend I didn’t see that.”

You draw a slow breath, your heart pounding, but the words come easier now.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help you or what the right move is, and I’m worried I’ll make things worse.” You glance between the two hybrids, your expression softening. “But I’m even more scared of what might happen to you if I don’t do anything at all.”

Taehyung’s ears perk at that, a small surprised flick. 

Yoongi finally turns his head enough to truly look at you. His expression is still guarded, but something in it eases.

“You shouldn’t be afraid on our behalf,” he says quietly.

You manage a small, shaky exhale. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile, but something close to one.

You continue before your nerve slips. “So… if I’m already involved, and I’m not walking away… just tell me what I need to do. I don’t want to make decisions blindly.”

Yoongi studies you for a long moment, his golden eyes steady and unreadable. Then, for the first time, he nods.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice softer than before. “If you truly want to help… then we need to track our brother.”

You freeze for a moment, the weight of Yoongi’s words sinking into your chest. Tracking him down. That isn’t a small task. But the look on Yoongi’s face tells you this isn’t optional for them. This is family.

You take a slow breath. “Okay… but how? I don’t even know where to start.”

Yoongi’s gaze flicks toward Taehyung, who responds before he even speaks. The tiger pushes himself to stand, muscles trembling slightly from the effort. He tilts his head toward the door as if already preparing to leave.

“We follow his scent,” Yoongi says. “Taehyung can track better in his animal form. Even injured, he’ll know where Jungkook went.”

You glance at Taehyung, who is now watching you with expectant golden eyes. Even in his tiger form, there’s a sharp intelligence there, and a quiet plea tucked beneath it.

“But you can barely walk,” you whisper.

Yoongi clenches his jaw. “That doesn’t matter. He’s alone. And if those hunters catch him before we do…” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish. The implication burns in the silence.

You shift your weight, thinking fast. “Then I’ll drive. It’ll be faster than walking, and Taehyung can guide us.”

Taehyung’s ears perk up at that, and he gives a firm, approving chuff.

Yoongi hesitates, tension pulling across his shoulders. “…You’re sure?”

“No,” you admit honestly, voice quiet but steady. “I’m terrified. But we can’t leave your brother out there. Not after what I saw.”

Yoongi looks away for a brief moment. But not in rejection this time, but in something fragile, like he’s trying to swallow a sudden surge of emotion he hasn’t let himself feel in a long time.

When he meets your eyes again, he looks more grounded. More certain. “Then we go now,” he says.

Taehyung steps forward, brushing his head lightly against your side as if urging you toward the door.

You nod, your heart pounding, and grab the tag from the bed. “Okay. Let’s go find him.”

The three of you move down the hallway, each step echoing with a mixture of urgency and unease. Yoongi keeps one hand against the wall for balance, refusing to let his exhaustion slow him down. Taehyung stays close at his side, his shoulder brushing Yoongi’s hip every few steps as if silently offering support.

You grab your keys from the counter and push open the front door, the cool air brushing across your skin like a reminder that the outside world is still unpredictable.

Taehyung steps out first. The moment his paws touch the porch, his demeanor changes. His shoulders lift, ears angling forward, nostrils flaring as he draws in a deep breath of the open air. He’s searching already.

Yoongi steadies himself against the doorframe and takes in the scene outside. “He’ll pick up Jungkook’s scent faster out here,” he murmurs. 

You glance back at him. “Are you going to be okay walking to the car?”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and there’s a faint dryness in his voice when he answers, “I’ve been through worse.” But when he takes a step forward, his legs tremble more than he wants to admit.

You instinctively reach your hand out to hold his waist. His whole body tenses. You half expected for him to growl at you, but instead, his body eases just slightly and with your support he begins to walk towards your car. 

You try not to react, but internally you’re freaking out and considering this a win. 

Taehyung notices immediately. He lets out a quiet huff.

You walk ahead, unlocking the car and opening the back door. “Yoongi, you should sit in the front. Taehyung can take the space on the floor or the backseat if he fits.”

Taehyung lets out a soft snort, as if offended at the idea of not fitting but he squeezes himself in with surprising grace, lowering his huge body onto the floor behind the front seats, curling his legs beneath him. His tail flicks once, tapping the seat lightly before going still.

Yoongi climbs into the back with effort, gripping the door frame to ease the strain on his injured ribs. Once inside, he presses a hand against his side, breathing slowly until the pain settles. 

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine. You pull away from the house, the engine humming low beneath you as the tires press into the gravel. The trees are tall enough that they swallow most of the remaining daylight. You keep your eyes on the winding road while the weight of Taehyung’s breathing and Yoongi’s quiet presence fills the car.

Neither of them speaks at first. Taehyung shifts occasionally behind you, his claws gently tapping the floor as he adjusts his position to smell the air more clearly. Yoongi watches the passing trees through the window, his posture tense but focused.

You tighten your grip on the wheel and guide the car toward the stretch of road where you’d nearly collided with the bear earlier. Every bend feels familiar now, every shadow pulling at your memory. The closer you get, the heavier the atmosphere becomes inside the car.

Taehyung stiffens before you even reach the exact spot. His head lifts, ears angling sharply forward. He presses his nose near the cracked window, drawing in long, deliberate breaths. His pupils narrow, body leaning subtly toward the right side of the car.

Yoongi notices immediately. “Slow down,” he murmurs, voice steady despite the tension behind it. “We’re close.”

You ease your foot off the gas and let the vehicle roll gently forward. “There,” you whisper, recognizing the section of pavement instantly.

The skid marks from your sudden stop are still faintly visible, stretched across the asphalt like a reminder of what happened. A few disturbed branches and crushed leaves line the edge of the road where the bear had fled into the forest.

You bring the car to a slow stop right where your tires had screeched before. The forest on either side stands unnervingly still, the night pressing in deeper now that the sun has dropped lower behind the trees.

Taehyung rises partway onto his feet, bracing himself against the seat with surprising grace for his size. He leans closer to the window, nostrils flaring again, more urgently this time.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, eyes fixed where Taehyung is focused. “His scent should still be strongest here.”

You take a slow breath and open your door, the cool air immediately brushing across your skin as you step out onto the road. The forest feels different now that you’re returning to it on purpose. 

Taehyung slips out right behind you, landing on the asphalt with a soft thud. His size is impressive out in the open; even crouched low, he looks powerful and alert. He keeps close to your side for a moment, his shoulder brushing your hip, before instinct pulls him forward. His nose goes straight to the ground near the crushed leaves and disturbed brush.

Yoongi climbs out slower, deliberate in each movement as he keeps a hand against the car for balance. He winces when he straightens, but the moment Taehyung lets out a short, sharp huff, Yoongi pushes himself upright despite the pain.

Taehyung sniffs the same patch of ground again, then moves a few feet to the left, following something only he can detect. His ears flick, his tail stiffens, and he makes a soft chuff — a sound you’re beginning to understand as a signal.

“He’s got it,” Yoongi says quietly, moving to stand beside you. “The trail starts here.”

You crouch down near the place where the bear had lingered earlier, noticing details you hadn’t before. The ground is scuffed where something large skidded briefly, leaving long grooves in the dirt. A few strands of dark fur cling to the edge of a low branch, fluttering faintly with the breeze.

“Shedding?” you murmur.

Yoongi shakes his head. “No. Pulled out, probably when he crashed through.” His expression tightens slightly. 

That adds a new layer of urgency to the air.

Taehyung moves toward the tree line, and for a moment you think he’ll charge straight in, but he pauses and turns to look back at you with wide golden eyes. They’re expectant, waiting, almost asking permission.

Yoongi notices and lets out a quiet breath. “He wants you close. If anything happens, you need to be near him or me.”

You take a small step forward. “Are you sure it’s safe for me to be in the woods with hunters nearby?”

“No,” Yoongi answers honestly, “but leaving you alone is worse.”

That does nothing to calm your nerves, but the truth in it feels grounding.

Taehyung dips his head once before turning back toward the forest. He pushes through the first line of branches, weaving silently into the underbrush.

You meet Yoongi’s eyes, and without speaking, the two of you follow.

The moment you cross into the trees, the world changes. The forest floor muffles your footsteps, and the canopy above swallows most of the remaining light. Taehyung moves several paces ahead, his tail brushing leaves aside as he follows the trail, but he never goes far enough to lose sight of you.

You duck under a low branch, your shoulder brushing Yoongi’s briefly as he steadies himself on a nearby tree trunk. His breathing is tight, but he keeps moving.

“Just a little farther,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

Suddenly Taehyung freezes, every muscle in his body coiled tight. Yoongi’s hand shoots out, lightly grabbing your wrist before you can take another step.

Before you could even begin to ask, in the distance, it’s faint but unmistakable, you hear something shift. A soft rustling, like something heavy dragging across leaves.

You listen again.

Another rustle.

But now the sound is clearer. They’re heavy footsteps, uneven, slower than before. Not an animal. Not a hybrid struggling to move.

Voices drift through the trees, low and frustrated.

You tense. “Is that—?”

Yoongi nods once, sharply, “hunters.”

Taehyung immediately drops low to the ground, his body melting into the brush so smoothly you almost lose sight of him. Yoongi pulls you downward beside him, crouching behind a fallen log thick with moss. His breathing quickens, strain tugging at the edges of his voice.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers.

You nod, heart pounding so loudly you’re terrified they’ll hear it.

The footsteps get closer.

Through the dense leaves, you finally see them. It’s the same two men who approached your car earlier. Their shoulders sag now, their clothes dirtier, their faces flushed with irritation and exhaustion. One drags a branch out of his way with unnecessary force, tossing it aside like it personally offended him.

“No tracks. Nothing,” the first mutters, kicking at a pile of leaves. “Damn thing vanished.”

The second wipes sweat from his brow. “That damn bitch must’ve lied to us.”

Your stomach flips.

Yoongi’s grip on your wrist tightens slightly, not painful, but protective.

The second man snorts. “This whole hybrid nonsense is getting out of hand. Dangerous animals, mutations, whatever you wanna call it… Someone’s gotta get ahead of this before they breed or something.”

Taehyung’s ears flatten, a low rumble forming deep in his chest, vibrating through the ground. Yoongi reaches out and touches his fur, the contact grounding him instantly.

The first man shakes his head, “yeah but that bounty money will make all of this worth it.”

The hunters move slower now, dragging their feet through the underbrush, not searching anymore. Just irritated. Just tired. Their failure hangs around them like a thick fog.

They never even look in your direction.

Still, you barely breathe.

When the men finally pass out of sight, their voices fading into the distance, Yoongi doesn’t rise immediately. He waits. Listens. Judges the timing with careful, practiced instinct.

Only when the forest grows quiet again does he release a slow breath and ease his hold on you.

“They didn’t find him,” you whisper, your voice shaking just a little.

“No,” Yoongi replies, his gaze scanning the trees. “But they might come back.”

Taehyung lifts his head slightly, nostrils flaring again, and looks toward the deeper part of the forest that the hunters didn’t check.

It’s an unspoken message.

Yoongi meets your eyes. “If Jungkook’s still out here… he’ll be hiding where they weren’t.”

You nod, the adrenaline still buzzing under your skin.

“Then we need to move before they circle back.”

Yoongi exhales slowly and braces a hand against the moss-covered log before pushing himself upright. You move with him, careful not to snap a twig or rustle a leaf. 

Taehyung steps ahead, lowering his head to the forest floor. His nose sweeps through the scattered leaves, tracking invisible lines of scent only he can understand. He moves a few paces in one direction, pauses, pivots, then moves in another, more decisive direction.

Yoongi follows him with a wince as he adjusts his stance, and you stay close, matching his pace.

“He’s picking up the trail again,” Yoongi murmurs. “Jungkook must’ve gone this way after he left the road.”

“How can you tell?” you whisper, stepping carefully around a fallen branch.

Yoongi nods toward Taehyung. “He’s calmer now. Focused. If Jungkook’s trail had gone cold, he’d be restless or frustrated. But he’s tracking with confidence.”

You watch Taehyung move, his movements sharper now, more purposeful. His tail remains still behind him—a clear sign of concentration.

When he stops suddenly, you almost bump into him. He lowers his head toward a cluster of ferns, gently nosing them aside. As he pushes deeper, something catches your eye.

A patch of dark fur tangled in the brush.

You crouch down, brushing the leaves aside with trembling fingers. The fur matches the bear’s coloring exactly—thick, coarse, slightly curled at the tips. But what catches your attention more is the faint smudge of something staining the leaves.

Not fresh.

But unmistakably blood.

Your chest tightens. “He’s hurt…”

Yoongi crouches beside you with visible effort and examines the spot. “It’s not enough to be life-threatening,” he murmurs. “Probably scraped himself trying to get away. But it means we’re close. He didn’t have much energy left when he passed through here.”

Taehyung lifts his head, ears pricked, eyes locked on a narrow break in the trees ahead. He gives a soft, urgent chuff and glances back at the two of you.

Yoongi nods. “He went deeper. Toward the creek.”

You straighten and look between the path ahead that was slowly beginning to darken as the sun was slowly starting to go down. “Will the hunters come this way?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not unless they find a reason. They stuck to the easier routes. Jungkook always knew how to avoid human patterns.”

Taehyung flicks his tail, waiting.

You take another breath and step forward.

“Then let’s keep going.”

The three of you slip deeper into the forest, following the narrow trail Jungkook made—broken branches, disturbed ferns, faint prints in the soft earth. As the trees thicken and the sound of distant running water grows louder, the tension shifts.

Something is close.

Taehyung stops again, his entire body going still, head turned sharply toward the right. His ears flatten, not in fear, but recognition.

Yoongi stiffens beside you.

Taehyung stands completely still, every muscle pulled taut as he listens. His ears twitch once, twice—then angle sharply toward the right, deeper into the trees where the canopy thickens.

Yoongi steps closer to him, his posture shifting instinctively into something protective despite the pain etched across his features. His hands curl slightly at his sides, and his breath comes shallow, controlled.

You swallow hard. “Do you see something?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not see. Hear.” He nods toward Taehyung. “And he smells it.”

Taehyung takes one slow step forward, then another, drifting toward the sound of running water in the distance. His body moves with a different kind of urgency now, he’s no longer searching, but closing in.

You follow without hesitation, keeping your steps light and careful. Yoongi moves beside you, one hand brushing tree trunks here and there as he steadies himself. The deeper you go, the colder the forest feels, as if the temperature drops with every footstep.

The murmur of water grows louder. The trees thin slightly.

And then—

Taehyung stops again, but this time the motion is abrupt, his claws digging slightly into the earth to anchor himself. His chest expands with a deep inhale, and a quiet, almost pained sound rumbles from him.

Yoongi freezes.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“What does that mean?” you whisper.

Yoongi’s voice is barely audible. “He found something.”

You exchange a quick glance before the three of you push past a dense cluster of ferns. The forest opens into a small clearing near the edge of a shallow creek. 

Your breath catches.

Something is lying near the water’s edge.

A large body, dark fur matted with dirt and leaves, chest rising and falling in slow, uneven pulls. One foreleg is tucked awkwardly beneath the body, the other stretched forward as if it had collapsed mid-step. The water near his paws is disturbed, ripples spreading outward from where he must have stumbled.

It’s the bear.

The same one you saw earlier.

But now that you’re closer, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. The trembling in his flank, the labored breaths, the way his head barely manages to lift when Taehyung steps forward.

He tries to lift his head, but the strength seems to drain out of him halfway through the motion. His eyes land on Taehyung first, dull but aware, filled with exhaustion and relief that flickers weakly beneath the fear. Then his gaze drifts toward Yoongi, widening the slightest bit in recognition.

Taehyung moves first, inching forward with soft, careful steps. He lowers his head until his forehead touches Jungkook’s, a gentle greeting that carries more comfort than words ever could. A faint chuff escapes Jungkook’s throat in return.

Yoongi’s breath shudders as he drops to one knee, ignoring the pain it sends through him. “Jungkook…” he whispers, voice cracking under the weight of it.

Finally Jungkook’s gaze drifts toward you, slow and hazy, his vision struggling to focus. At first, there’s nothing but exhaustion in his expression, but the moment he realizes you’re not a hybrid, not one of his own, everything inside him tenses.

His pupils widen.

His breathing quickens.

A soft, rattled sound escapes his throat.

He tries to pull back even though he barely has the strength to lift his head. His claws dig weakly into the dirt as he attempts to shift away from you, fear overriding his exhaustion.

Yoongi reacts instantly.

“Jungkook—hey. Hey,” he says softly, leaning closer despite the sharp pain it causes him. He places a steadying hand near his shoulder without touching him yet, careful and grounding. “It’s alright. She’s not going to hurt you.”

Taehyung steps in next, lowering his tiger form beside his brother. He presses his forehead gently against Jungkook’s jaw, a reassuring gesture that sends a low, soothing rumble through the ground. Then he turns his head and nudges toward you as if telling Jungkook this human is safe.

But Jungkook’s gaze stays locked on you, his fear flickering beneath the exhaustion. His breaths come quicker, shallow and uneven, the instinct to flee warring with the reality that he can barely move.

You take the smallest step back, hands raised slightly to show you mean no harm. “It’s okay,” you murmur, voice as soft as the forest around you. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just… want to help.”

Yoongi hears the tremor in your voice and turns to Jungkooks again. “She saved us,” he says, his tone thick with an honesty that leaves no room for doubt. “If it wasn’t for her, Taehyung and I wouldn’t be here.”

Jungkook’s trembling slows, if only barely. His gaze flickers to Taehyung, who nudges him again, more insistently this time, before looking at you and letting out a short but reassuring chuff.

Yoongi follows that silently with, “You can trust her. She’s on our side.”

Yoongi’s words settle over the clearing with a kind of quiet weight. She’s on our side.

Hearing him say it out loud makes your chest tighten in a strange, unexpected way. 

Jungkook’s frightened gaze keeps flicking back to you, searching for a threat he’s expecting to find. You feel your breath catch as you meet his eyes. The fear there isn’t sharp or aggressive. It’s raw, wounded, the kind you’ve seen on patients who’ve been mistreated and don’t know who to trust.

You swallow and speak softly, keeping your tone warm even though your heart is beating too fast. “I know you don’t know me. I know this is scary. I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your voice wavers a little on the last word, and Yoongi notices, his eyes soften just slightly, though he tries to hide it.

Taehyung nudges Jungkook again, urging him to look at you, to listen, to feel that you’re not a threat. His breathing slows another fraction, but he still looks unsure and you can’t blame him.

You take a slow breath and lower yourself a little more, not close enough to overwhelm him, but not so far that you seem afraid. “You don’t have to trust me yet,” you say gently, “but I’m going to help you anyway. I won’t let them find you.”

Jungkook’s ears twitch at that. His muscles loosen by a degree, and the tension in his shoulders eases when Taehyung presses his forehead to his again.

Yoongi watches you quietly, something flickering across his face, not quite gratitude, not quite relief, but something in-between. Something he isn’t used to showing.

You straighten very carefully, keeping your movements slow. “Just tell me what you need from me. Whatever it is… we’ll figure it out.”

Jungkook watches you again, but this time, his fear doesn’t spike. His eyes soften just a little, the smallest shift, but enough for you to know he’s starting to believe Yoongi and Taehyung.

You wrap your arms around yourself for a moment, more to keep your hands from shaking than for warmth. Jungkook’s fear is no longer pointed directly at you, but it’s still there.

“Alright,” you murmur, mostly to ground yourself, “how are we getting him to my car.”

Yoongi adjusts his position next to Jungkook and winces, one hand pressed lightly to his ribs. His voice is steady, but the strain behind it is unmistakable. “First, we need to see if he can shift back. We can’t move him like this. He’s too heavy, and Taehyung and I aren’t in any condition to carry him far. And you definitely can’t carry him.”

“Ok ouch.”

He rolls his eyes, a tired but unmistakably sarcastic gesture. “Please. Go on and prove me wrong.” He stretches out his hand in a sweeping motion toward the enormous bear lying in the grass. “Pick him up.”

You stare at Yoongi.

Then at Jungkook.

Then back at Yoongi.

“He weighs like—what—six hundred pounds?” you whisper in disbelief.

“Seven-twenty last time he shifted,” Yoongi mutters.

Taehyung huffs in agreement, as if backing the math.

You cross your arms. “Right. So clearly I could lift him, I’m just choosing not to.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “Of course.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with wide, exhausted eyes, clearly not following every word but definitely aware that he is the subject of discussion.

Taehyung steps closer, brushing his head against Jungkook’s jaw in a slow, comforting gesture. The deep rumble vibrating from him seems to settle his trembling a little, but only just.

Yoongi leans in, bracing himself on one knee. “Jungkook,” he says quietly, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, “you need to try. Just once. If you can shift it’ll make this easier on all of us.”

Jungkook opens his eyes at that, the emotion in them raw and too heavy for someone his size. He looks at Yoongi first, then Taehyung… and finally at you.

He tries.

You can see it—the tension along his back, the way the fur ripples unevenly, the faint shimmer beneath his skin like something is trying to change shape. But it lasts only a few seconds before his body shudders and the effort collapses. His sides heave with the strain, a weak groan slipping out of him.

Taehyung lowers himself beside his brother again, pressing close in quiet support.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook with pain written clearly in his expression, and when he finally speaks, his voice is tight but controlled. “Alright. That’s enough. Don’t try again.”

He turns his gaze to you.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “we’re going to have to figure out another way to get him back.”

You nod slowly. “Okay. So… what’s Plan B?”

Yoongi opens his mouth to answer—

But then Taehyung’s head snaps up. His body goes rigid.

You freeze, glancing between him and Yoongi.

Yoongi’s face darkens immediately. “That’s not good.”

You swallow. “What is it?”

Taehyung rumbles low in his chest—a warning, not a greeting.

Yoongi meets your eyes. The exhaustion is gone.

“They’re coming back.”

Taehyung’s low warning rumble vibrates through the ground, deeper and sharper now. He rises to his feet despite the stiffness in his ribs, positioning himself between the trees and his nearly unconscious brother. His tail lowers, sweeping behind him in a slow, tense arc.

You whip your head toward the forest line, heart hammering.

You don’t see anyone yet. But you hear it. Branches cracking. Leaves shifting under heavy boots.

Yoongi’s jaw clenches. “They must’ve come back to check. Maybe they picked up on him.” He presses a hand against his ribs and forces himself upright, moving to stand on the opposite side of Jungkook.

You rise too, adrenaline sparking under your skin. “Okay—okay, what do we do? We can’t move him. They’ll see him any second—”

“Stay low,” Yoongi instructs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down behind the nearest thicket of brush. “If they see you with us—”

He doesn’t finish, but the implication sends a chill down your spine.

Taehyung doesn’t hide. He stays in front of Jungkook, massive body low to the ground, ears pinned back, ready to lunge if he has to. He won’t leave his brother exposed. Not for anything.

The footsteps are getting closer now.

You huddle lower, keeping your breathing as steady as possible. Yoongi crouches beside you, face pale from pain but eyes sharp and focused. His gaze flicks constantly between the approaching direction and Jungkook’s unmoving form.

The voices sharpen.

“…I swear it came through here—”

“We’re not leaving empty-handed—”

“If it came back, it’s hurt. It can’t be far—”

Yoongi tenses. “Damn it, they’re getting close.”

Your pulse spikes in your throat. “We need a distraction.”

“Don’t,” he whispers harshly, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Don’t even think about it.”

You glance at the hunters again. They’re too close. If they take even ten more steps, they’ll see Jungkook lying in the open, unable to move. Taehyung could hide, Yoongi could hide — but Jungkook can’t.

“We don’t have time,” you whisper back. “If we don’t stall them now, they’re going to walk right into the clearing.”

Yoongi pulls you closer, desperation in the shake of his breath. There’s fear in his eyes now. 

“Listen, earlier they didn’t suspect anything when I talked to them on the road,” you remind him quietly. “They saw me as just… another person doing errands. Someone normal. Someone harmless.”

“That’s exactly why it’s dangerous,” Yoongi hisses, keeping his voice as low as possible. “Humans like them react unpredictably when they’re desperate. They’re angry, tired, frustrated. They won’t think straight. If they think you saw something, or if they even suspect you’re hiding something—”

He breaks off, his voice tightening like something painful is stuck in his throat.

You inhale slowly. “I won’t let them walk right into this clearing. I can’t.”

Jungkook’s huge form trembles faintly behind you. He’s trying to lift his head again, but it drops back heavily against the dirt. His breaths are too shallow. Too fast. He won’t survive being discovered.

Taehyung shifts closer to him, almost shielding him with his body.

You look back at Yoongi — at the fear in his eyes.

“It’s me or Jungkook,” you whisper. “And I’m the only one who can walk up to them without starting a fight.”

Yoongi shakes his head, jaw clenched. “I can’t let you—”

“You don’t get to ‘let’ me,” you whisper back, not harsh, but steady. “This is the only option we have.”

His grip loosens, but only because his hand is shaking. His eyes burn into yours, the panic there unmistakable.

“You’re human,” he murmurs, voice rough with fear he can’t hide. “I don’t want anything happening to you because of us.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand over his. “And I don’t want anything happening to your brother because we were too scared to do something.”

Yoongi’s breath stutters. He looks at you like he’s caught between a dozen conflicting instincts. But the hunters are almost at the clearing now, and there’s no more time to hesitate.

You squeeze his hand once, softly. “I’ll be fine.”

He swallows hard, visibly fighting himself.

Then, barely audible, he whispers, “Please… be careful.”

You nod, slip free of the brush, and step out into the trees. You walk toward the hunters with your heart pounding so hard it hurts.

Behind you, Yoongi and Taehyung lower themselves deeper into the shadows, watching every move with terror and hope tangled into one. The darkening sky provides some protection.

You step out from the brush, forcing your breathing into some kind of steady rhythm even though your pulse is racing so fast you can feel it in your fingertips. The forest opens slightly ahead, and the hunters’ flashlights swing in sporadic, frustrated arcs across the trees.

They hear your footsteps before they see you.

“What the—?” one of them snaps, jerking his light in your direction.

You lift your hands a little, palms open, trying to look harmless. “Hi—sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Both men tense immediately. Their shoulders stiffen, their grips tighten, not on weapons yet, but close enough that your stomach drops.

“What are you doing out here?” the taller one demands, stepping forward. “This isn’t a place you should be wandering alone.”

You swallow, keeping your expression confused but not panicked. “I know… I know. I saw flashlights and voices, and I thought maybe someone was lost. I didn’t want to just ignore it.”

The shorter man squints at you. “You again? From the road?”

Your heart lurches, but you force a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I live around these woods. I come across a lot of lost hikers all the time. Wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Behind the brush, Yoongi stiffens so sharply the leaves rustle. Taehyung’s low, rumbling growl vibrates faintly through the ground, warning but contained as he stays curled protectively around Jungkook.

The tall hunter narrows his eyes. “You followed us into the woods?”

“No—no, I didn’t follow you,” you say quickly. “I thought I heard something, so I called out. I guess I wandered a little farther in than I meant to.”

They exchange a look. You can’t tell if it’s suspicion or annoyance, but neither reaction is good.

“What’d you hear?” the shorter one asks, stepping closer. His light flicks behind you, toward the clearing you just left. Toward the direction of Jungkook.

Your stomach tightens painfully.

You force yourself to stall. “Honestly? I thought it was a dog at first. Or maybe a big raccoon.” You give an awkward shrug. “I don’t know animals very well.”

The taller hunter doesn’t laugh. His eyes scan the ground around you. “Hear anything heavy? Big branches moving? Something with weight?”

“Uh… no?” you lie smoothly. “I mean, unless you count me tripping over a root.”

The shorter hunter sighs loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Another false lead.”

He looks tired, irritated, and your goal is to keep him in that emotional space. Annoyed and ready to leave.

You push gently. “So… did you guys ever find the bear? Or whatever you were tracking?”

The taller one steps forward, too close, his flashlight hitting your face. “What did you see earlier exactly? Describe it again.”

Your heartbeat spikes.

“A big bear,” you say honestly enough that your voice doesn’t shake. “Brown. Fast. Scared.”

“Brown?” he presses. “Not black? Not mottled? No strange things on him?”

“No,” you say, steadying your breath. “Just… a bear. I think.”

The shorter one groans again. “I told you she probably saw a normal animal. We’re wasting daylight.”

You feel Yoongi watching you from the shadows behind.

“Look,” you say gently, forcing your shoulders to relax, “maybe you should call it for tonight. You both look exhausted.”

The tall hunter eyes you once more, but something in his posture shifts. The exhaustion is winning out. The uncertainty. The doubt.

Finally, he mutters, “We’ll sweep the creek and head out.”

Your stomach drops. The creek is exactly where Jungkook is. You need to redirect them now.

“You mean the creek down that way?” you ask, pointing confidently, but in the completely wrong direction, deeper into the woods and far from Jungkook.

They both turn to look.

“Yeah,” the shorter one says slowly. “Down that ridge.”

You nod. “I thought I heard splashing earlier, but… it was probably nothing.”

He curses under his breath. “Whatever. We’ll check it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a weak smile. “And be careful. It’s getting dark.”

The tall one nods curtly and gestures to his partner. “Come on. Let’s sweep the ridge.”

You watch them go.

Their flashlights fade.

Their voices become distant.

Only when you’re sure they’re far enough does the breath you’ve been holding collapse out of you.

You glance back at the clearing.

Jungkook is still lying in the grass, trembling faintly but no longer panicking. His eyes are half-open, watching you with a dazed mixture of confusion and gratitude he can’t quite express.

Taehyung emerges beside him, still in his tiger form, staying low and protective over him. His ears flick back as he looks at you, as if checking with his own eyes that you’re actually safe.

Yoongi moves first.

He closes the distance in a few quick, pained steps, grabbing your forearm, his hand trembling just enough for you to feel it.

“That was dangerous.” he whispers, anger thinly layered over raw fear. “I can’t believe you walked straight up to armed hunters alone.”

“Yoongi… the alternative was letting them walk right into this clearing.”

He shakes his head sharply. “No. You don’t get it. They’re not just regular humans. They’re hunters. If they found out you were lying—“

“You’re safe,” you say quietly. “All three of you and that’s all that matters.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens. He finally releases your arm… only to take your hand instead. The gesture is small but intentional, his thumb brushing once across your palm as if he needs the reassurance that you’re real and unhurt.

“Please don't do that again,” he says softly, the anger fading into something rawer.

You swallow, realizing he isn’t scolding you. He’s scared. For you. “I had to,” you whisper. “I’d do it again.”

He closes his eyes briefly like the answer both frustrates him and shatters him a little.

Before he can respond, Taehyung nudges him sharply, then looks down at Jungkook, letting out a low, meaningful rumble.

Yoongi’s eyes snap open. “Right. We need to move him before they circle back.”

You nod, grounding yourself with a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand once before letting go, turning his focus back to Jungkook. “Then we move fast,” he says, voice firm again. “And we do it together.”

Yoongi crouches beside Jungkook again, ignoring the flare of pain in his ribs. You kneel on the other side, close enough for Jungkook to see your face clearly. His eyes flutter open at your movement, still cloudy with exhaustion, still scared… but not as much as before.

You smile at him gently. “We’re gonna get you somewhere safe, okay? But we need your help too.”

Jungkook lets out a faint, trembling huff.

Yoongi nods at him, his expression softening in a way you’ve never seen. “We just need you to stand. No shifting. Just get your feet under you.”

Jungkook closes his eyes for a second, gathering strength from somewhere deep and then he tries. His huge paws press into the dirt, claws digging in, muscles bunching with effort. His legs tremble violently. His shoulder nearly collapses.

Taehyung moves instantly, bracing himself beneath Jungkook’s weight so the bear can lean against him. Yoongi reaches out as well, placing both hands on his fur to steady him, though you can see the strain it costs him.

You rise and place a hand lightly against Jungkook’s stomach, steadying him from the other side. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

He lifts his head a few inches. It wobbles, but it stays up.

“That’s it,” Yoongi murmurs. 

It takes nearly a full minute, but Jungkook manages to shift himself into a weak, unsteady stand. His breathing is ragged, but his body holds.

Barely.

You look at Yoongi. “Can he walk?”

“Not far,” Yoongi admits. His eyes flick to the darkness behind you where the hunters disappeared. “But he doesn’t have to. We just need to get him close enough to the road. Taehyung and I can lift the rest.”

You nod. “Then let’s move.”

Taehyung positions himself under Jungkook’s injured side, taking most of his brother’s weight with a soft grunt of effort. Jungkook leans heavily into him, almost collapsing twice before Taehyung steadies him with a bump of his shoulder.

Yoongi limps to the other side, jaw clenching each time he braces Jungkook. You can tell he’s in pain, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

You take the spot behind them, keeping your hands near his back and flank, ready to catch or support him if he falters.

“Alright,” Yoongi mutters, voice tight. “Slow and steady. Follow Taehyung.”

Taehyung starts forward, guiding Jungkook with careful, measured steps. The forest path is uneven, and each shift of his weight sends tremors through his legs. You stay close, murmuring quiet reassurances whenever he stumbles.

Jungkook struggles, but he keeps going, driven by the closeness of his brothers, the pressure of Taehyung’s side against his, the soft rhythm of your voice beside him.

Yoongi glances at you once, the faintest expression flickering across his features before he looks away again.

You walk for several painstaking minutes, Jungkook’s steps dragging deeper into the forest floor. Every rustle of leaves feels too loud. Every distant crack of a branch makes all three hybrids stiffen.

Finally, Taehyung stops and flicks his ears toward the right.

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “We’re close to the road.”

You step ahead and push through a thin line of brush and there it is. The narrow forest road where you parked earlier. Your car sits only a dozen yards away, half-hidden behind the trees, waiting.

You turn back, relief flooding through you.

“We made it.”

Jungkook sways, nearly collapsing, but Taehyung catches him before he can fall. Yoongi stabilizes him from the other side, though the strain on his face makes it clear he can’t take much more.

You rush forward and open the trunk door of your SUV. “Okay — Taehyung, Yoongi, how do we get him in?”

Yoongi wipes sweat from his brow, breathing hard. “We’ll guide him up. You get in the front and help pull if we need it.”

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

He gives you a tired but certain nod. “We’ll manage. Just be ready.”

Guiding Jungkook to the car is a slow, excruciating process. Every few steps, his legs wobble, and Taehyung braces under him, taking the strain without hesitation. Yoongi presses a steadying hand to Jungkook’s side, wincing each time the weight shifts toward him.

“Easy…” Yoongi murmurs, voice strained. “Just a little closer.”

You scramble into the front seat and twist around, reaching back to offer your hands as Taehyung and Yoongi maneuver Jungkook toward the back door.

Jungkook hesitates, his huge frame trembling at the unfamiliar shape of the car.

You lean forward, voice steady. “It’s okay. It’s just for a moment. Then we’ll go home. I promise.”

His eyes meet yours, they look tired, scared, but trusting. And slowly, leaning heavily into Taehyung’s strength, Jungkook steps toward the car. His huge form towers at the edge of the car, and for a brief moment it seems impossible. He’s simply too big, too heavy, too exhausted.

You lean over the seat, extending your hand. “Jungkook… we need you to climb in, okay? We’re almost done. Just this last part.”

Jungkook breathes hard, his sides heaving, but his eyes meet yours. He listens. Slowly, he lifts one massive paw and sets it inside the vehicle. The car groans underneath the shift in weight.

Taehyung shifts position and nudges his brother from the side, offering silent encouragement. Jungkook lifts his other front paw in, his body sagging with effort. As his weight shifts into the backseat, the car dips sharply,  the suspension dropping several inches with a heavy, low creak.

You wince. “My poor car…”

Taehyung, squeezing in behind Jungkook, adds his weight too. The vehicle dips again. It’s almost comical, a small SUV sagging under the mass of two hybrids in one cramped space, but the worry in the moment overshadows any humor.

Yoongi huffs a weak breath through his nose. “Should’ve bought a truck.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly planning for… hybrid transport,” you whisper back.

Taehyung curls around Jungkook protectively, positioning himself so he can lean against him, his large head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder. The tiger adjusts until Jungkook is wedged securely, no risk of him sliding if you brake too suddenly.

Jungkook gives one soft, exhausted huff before his eyes close.

Yoongi limps around to the passenger side. He lowers himself into the seat with a shaky exhale, reclining it halfway until he finds a position that doesn’t make him grimace.

You close all the doors, circle back to the driver’s side, and climb in behind the wheel. The car’s back end still sits noticeably low, the weight of two fully-grown hybrids making your headlights tilt a little higher than usual.

You glance into the rearview mirror.

Jungkook is unmoving, breathing shallow but steady.

Taehyung’s golden eyes stare back at you, protective and alert from behind Jungkook’s massive form.

Yoongi watches the road ahead, jaw clenched, one hand pressed lightly against his ribs.

“Ready?” you ask.

Taehyung gives a slow, firm chuff.

Yoongi nods once.

You grip the wheel, exhale shakily, and put the car in drive.

“Hold on and lay low,” you whisper.

With everyone finally inside the car, you pressed your foot to the gas and left the forest behind, hoping the night wouldn’t catch up to you before you made it home.

A/N: Thanks for reading!! Let me know how you think of the story so far! As always have a wonderful day!

Love, Liz

Taglist

They were.

Though now, he looks like nothing more than a neutered puppy. The man's whimpering certainly doesn’t help with the picture either. It almost makes Seokjin want to laugh.

Namjoon is crouched on the other side of the body– body because that is simply what this man is, if he doesn’t start to give them answers. He doesn’t have much of a face left now anyway, so he might as well be.

The pack alpha’s hand is fisted into the betas hair, the tendon in his arms twitching from the effort of forcing the man's head into the ground over, and over, and over again. Slamming his head into the cold hardwood floor of the office, other bodies scattered around their forms. 

The pool of red is still growing.

The pack alpha is huffing, there is a glorious fire in his eyes. Seokjin thinks he looks beautiful. 

“Should I ask you again?” Seokjin questions, head tilting to the side. A small, placid smile dotting the corner of his lips, condescension radiating from his entire being as Namjoon pulls the man's head up just high enough once more.

What an ugly thing he has become. Maybe he’s the unlucky one, the lucky ones are probably the corpses scattered across the floor. At least they didn’t have to undergo their combined fury. 

He should have just given Seokjin the answers he wanted already. 

Seokjin sighs once more, looking up at Namjoon, “It doesn’t seem like he wants to, does it?”

Seokjin registers the opening of the office door. Huh, he really did not think anyone else was in the house today. Not that it matters much, Seokjin will deal with them the exact same way. 

He sighs, closing his eyes as he stands. His arms feel tight in his suit, but he raises one anyway. Cresting it on the same side of his neck where Namjoon had left his bite, using its force to aid him in cracking his neck. 

Seokjin doesn’t have time to dilly dally. He’ll be sure to make this quick. 

The intruder relieves a sharp gasp from his lungs, the lazy drawl of Seokjin’s lids to draw upwards, taking him in for the very first time.

Soft, perfectly cut straight brown hair. Large doe eyes. Perfectly sculpted nose with little moles dotting around his face in constallations.

Seokjin’s recognition of him is instantaneous. 

Jeon Jeongguk. 23. Important. 

The Jeon pack alpha’s only child. The last progeny remaining in their all-alpha familial line. 

Well damn, Seokjin was sure he wasn’t here. From the information Seokjin gathered before setting out to the groups's territory, the kid was practically treated as royalty. Spoiled rotten, coddled. There were even rumours he had never gone outside before. 

Seokjin didn’t believe them, of course not, that would be a rather auspicious thing to do. But with how much he had heard about Jeongguk’s treatment, he didn't think they would just let the kid wander around on his own in a clan meeting house like this. He doubted Jeongguk would be involved in territorial conflicts at all. He was a member of the familial pack, not the territorial one like Seokjin… interogates… now. The distinction is clear as clear as day. 

Looks like his intel may have been wrong. 

Not only is he here and involved with them, he looks like a deer in headlights. His cheeks are turning a bright shade of red. It looks as though there are sparkles in his eyes. To be honest, Seokjin is taken aback. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but not something so… passionate. Something so devoted. 

Is…. is this kid staring at  Namjoon with… admiration…? While Namjoon has Jeongguk’s mom’s right hand is in a bloodied heap on the floor?

Huh. Well, this is certainly a surprising change of tune.

“S-Sir! Please leave! Don’t get yourself involved with this!” Huh, so the body still did have a voice. He was sure Namjoon had squeezed it out of him by now. Regardless, the words have Seokjin turning his head back towards the mess on the floor, back towards his alpha. 

Oh. Seokjin’s eyes go wide. 

Namjoon is staring right back at Jeongguk, that same star-crossed lovers expression on his face. Looking at him like the universe just changed for the better. 

Turning back towards the younger, Seokjin confirms it– they are simply enamoured with one another.

When he makes the motion, when all the attention in the room is directly only at Jeongguk, it is clear the kid notices. His posture straightens, his chest puffing out just slightly. The most determined look that Seokjin has ever seen is as obvious as ever written across his features. 

One of his arms raises up– certainly not the arms of someone who has had experience fighting– a single finger pointing towards both Seokjin and Namjoon. A cocksure smile on the pure alphas lips. 

The world spins. This is nothing like Seokjin had been expecting out of the day. 

“I want you.” He pauses, the determined smile blooming brighter. Seokjin doesn’t know how the kid could be so positive in such a thing– Seokjin needs time to fall, he guesses Jeongguk doesn’t. “Both of you.”

A sickening crack sounds throughout the room, the betas death as clear as day, though no one really pays attention. Instead, everything revolves around Namjoon rising to a stand right next to Seokjin, a similar smile on his own face.

“I feel like there are a few questions you should be asking instead of just saying something so bold.” All the rage Namjoon spoke with before the entry of Jeongguk is gone, a similar confident air in his tone. “Like who are we, why are we in your office. Why we just killed your clans beta.” 

“I don’t care.” Jeongguk, though Seokjin just met him, looks like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “I didn’t like him anyway. He was shitty at taking care of me.” 

Spoiled. 

Namjoon hums, “Shouldn’t you be worried we’re going to kill you, too?”

Jeongguk thinks for a second, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he considers. “No. You want me.” 

Maybe not spoiled. Maybe just sheltered if he thinks that simply about such things.  

“You’ll have to deal with a few more than just us.” Namjoon leans forward a bit, the air around him bending to his will. Haughty. Attractive. “We have 4 other mates.” 

Oh. Jeongguk now looks as though he is simply vibrating with delight. His teeth– ones Seokjin notices look like a bunnies– make an appearance, biting his lower lip. 

“I want them, too.” 

Well, Seokjin’s dealings are certain to become a lot more smooth from this point onwards. 

NOW.

Jeongguk hasn’t slept. 

Well, okay, to be honest, he’s not sure he remembers the last time he actually had a full nights rest. 

Wait– no, that isn’t true either. The last night he did it was the night after he saw you for the first time, he remembers it clearly, actually. He would rather die than forget it. He would never in a million years forget dreaming of you. 

He was in the woods, you were there too, obviously. Scampering between trees, looking so cute and playful. God, you were so fucking adorable– calling out to him, asking him to chase you. 

Fuck, who was he to say no? He simply he complied. He would be an idiot to deny you of anything ever. 

When he caught you? It felt like the last of his dreams had finally come true. 

You were giggling underneath him, his body pinning you down by your shoulders. Your eyes in the prettiest little crests that he kissed over and over again. 

He remembers the end, where you made him promise to find you when he woke up, too. 

…Yeah.

He hasn’t had a full night's rest since then. But especially last night, last night he didn’t get a wink. Not even the half-hearted nap he usually gets by on. 

How was he supposed to sleep after Joon broke the news that they would be going to your house the very next day? The house that he knows belongs to you now, all thanks to Yoongi. The house where– where–

Jeongguk clenches his fist, lets his nails dig into the skin of his palms as a way to manage the putrid smell that was already beginning to leak from his pores. In the tight confines of the armoured truck, he knows everyone else will be able to smell it. 

Should he really care? Probably not. But he doesn’t want the second– first?--  time you smell him to be so… so unpleasant. He wants you to smell the real him. The alpha who your heart and soul belong to, the one you’ll build a future with. The one that can provide for you, that can take you out of whatever hell you’ve been keeping yourself in–

How long would it take before you let him give you a bite? How long will it take for you to give one to him?

Soon, hopefully. God, he can’t even count how many times he’s stroked his cock to the thought of your cute little fangs piercing the skin of his neck. How blown out your eyes would be with pretty red dotting your mouth. Do you even know that he saved the left side of his neck for you? Waited so many years just for his perfect omega to leave tangible evidence on his skin of your simple belonging to one another. 

… Well, he hasn’t thought about it in awhile, but the point still stands. He hasn’t been able to, not since your face began to retain the essence of a shadowless blob whenever you appear in his mind, when you appear in front of him. Just…just out of reach. 

Fucking had been in reach for over two weeks. 

His top lip curls at the thought. He reminds himself to stop thinking such shitty things. 

It doesn’t work.

He just needs to see you, and then everything will be right again. He’ll be able to protect you. His pack will be complete. The last piece of his soul, the part that felt like it has been missing will finally click into place. 

Everything will be perfect. 

You’ll be perfect.

Jeongguk forces his head back into reality as the wheels of the vehicle roll to a stop. His neck cocking to the side, deep eyes locking on Seokjin in the driver's seat. The clicking of metal registers in his ears, his hand clenching around the barrel of his semi-automatic a little tighter, the gun propped up against the floor, muzzle facing the sky.

“We're here.” Seokjin hums, completely carefree. Jeongguk isn’t sure how, to be honest. “We have a bit of a hike, if Jimin’s map is right.” 

Today determines the rest of his future… do they not get that? Of course they don’t. They don’t understand what you and him have, no matter how much they might try to. They don’t understand the levels at which his entirety calls out to you. 

He’s already reaching for the handle of the door, his entire body itching to leave, when another voice stops him– Joons’, “Gguk-ah, do a scan for us.”

His nose scrunches up while a little wrinkle finds itself between his brows, “Huh? Why me?” 

That isn’t his job. He’s not good at that sort of thing. 

At that, Joon only shrugs, handing the binoculars back behind him, “I trust you more to do it.” 

Heat washes over Jeongguk instantly. The simple words have an even simpler effect on his body– his ears and eyes perk up a bit more, right alone with his chest swelling. No matter how much he just wants to get moving, that line has Jeongguk already hauling his upper half through the sunroof of the armoured vehicle, eyes scanning the distance. 

From the top of the hill the pack has managed to find themself on, looking off into the distance is an easy task. Any subtle clearing is discovered, especially the very one they think contains your cabin. 

Jeongguk sees it easily, mentally comparing it to the map he had been studying the entire ride over– the piece of paper that Jimin and Taehyung marked your approximate location on. Seems like they were paying enough attention to get that right, at least. Even if they might have messed up your potential first meeting. 

No. As much as Jeongguk is angry at them, he’s even more upset with Yoongi. At least Jimin and Tae could plead ignorance. What they did was only a reaction to Yoongi.

What Yoongi did to him was straight malice. 

Hiding you. Keeping you after he found out you were an omega. Only confirming it after Jeongguk was on the verge of a breakdown because he couldn’t fucking remember–

He takes another deep breath, centering himself. He’s lucky he’s been practicing the breathing exercises Seokjin-hyung has been prescribing and that the thought of meeting you soon is somewhat settling.

“Yeah. House is where Jimin said.” Jeongguk states, plain as day. Giving one final sweep before getting ready to hop down. Nothing much falling along the dense forest tree line. 

Lucky that autumn was on their side– if it was any warmer out, the tree leafs may have kept you covered. 

“It looks–” Wait, what was that? 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of light in the distance. Too solid to be a solar flare, too obvious to be a trick of the mind. Twisting the lens to make it focus, something different comes into view.

A truck, hardly hidden at all against the trees. Standing out so loudly it might as well be a homing beacon to anyone who wanted to discover its presence. 

“Wait, hyung, I think–” Jeongguk scrunches his eyes, the hard plastic of the binoculars digging into his skin as he pushes his face into them deeper, like that will help him see better. “I think there's a truck over there?” 

“Mm.” He hears the shifting of guns, probably Joon following the direction of his pointed finger from where the first car had already unloaded onto the ground. “About the same distance away as the house?” 

Fuck if he knows, Jeongguk has always been shit with distances. It’s normally Yoongi’s job to take note of the perimeters like this– he still doesn’t know why he’s been put on the case instead. Why has he been given a job when all he wants to do is think about you. It's annoying. 

He doesn’t need to be managed. He doesn’t need to be distracted. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” Jeongguk pulls the binoculars from his face before taking a second to inhale, tasting the scent of the wind on his tongue. He won’t make the same mistake again. 

He pulls himself the rest of the way out of the sunroof, heavy gun clattering against his shoulder as he jumps to the ground with a practiced ease only gained from experience. His form landing with a thud, both feet on the ground as he squats, one balled hand taking the brunt of the force not received by his knees. 

He stands, eyes glued into the distance. 

“We didn’t see any cars out here before.” Jimin’s voice is in his ears, but he half ignores it. He’s not focused on the conversation of his mates right now, all he can think about is the alpha in his head. The one telling him that these are your woods. 

“Tracks.” Taehyung is supplying his mate, just like he always does. 

“Yeah, there were tire tracks, but they didn’t lead to a car or anything.” 

“Hm.” Joon is too analytical. Seokjin, too. 

“Does it really matter?” Hoseok groans out the words– Jeongguk hears him cracking his knuckles, “We don’t have all fucking day, and if these two don’t stop laying it on thick there won’t be hiding from the little doe.” 

Jeongguk knows Hoseok is referring to the pheromones he’s releasing, but he really doesn’t give a shit. At least the alpha is speeding the whole thing up– Jeongguk can feel his muscles burning. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves and just goes to get you himself. 

His patience is a tether that is not withstanding gale force winds. 

“We're triangled right between them.” Jeongguk’s eyes roll, unable to stop himself at the sound of Yoongi’s gruff voice chiming in. He guesses at some point he set up shop looking out of the top of the other car with his sniper. “About 750 meters that way is the car, 875 to the house. 1000 between ‘em, too.” 

Soon, Jeongguk hears the footfalls of Yoongi jumping, followed by the scribbling of a pen on a map. He’s starting to get frustrated with all these semantics. These alleged important parts of the job. 

He still doesn’t understand why they have to be so careful about this. 

You’re his soulmate, you’ll understand even if you are a little scared at first. 

“It would be worth it to check it out, at least.” Seokjin’s voice is there– one of Jeongguk’s only hyungs along with Joon that seems to care about how hungry Jeongguk is to have you already. “If Jimin and Taehyung wrecked her house, she could be staying there for cover.” 

What? Jeongguk’s alpha is howling in pain. How could he let his omega live inside of a car?! Even if it’s just for the night, that’s too much for you to go through. It’s just too much. 

You deserve to be in a nice big house, bundled up in his clothes– not anyone elses right now– relaxing in his big bed, the softest blankets surrounding you while he feeds you the meat he’s hunted.

Joon nods his head, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Jimin, Taehyung, Jeongguk, you go to the truck. Radio us with what you see.”

. . . Jeongguk blinks. 

He blinks again. 

He’s not half listening to the conversation anymore. 

“What?!” His head snaps before his brain can process the words, eyes finally leaving the distant trees you resided in for so long. So long, all alone. So long without him. 

…You missed him, right? Don’t worry, you won’t have to for much longer. 

They want him to go with them to the fucking car?! To the fucking car instead of your house?! They’re insane. Fucking insane. The growl is already in his tone before he can manage to stop it. “No.”

Hoseok’s expression is bored, Namjoon’s is blank, Seokjin’s is sympathetic. Jeongguk couldn’t give any less of a shit. 

“Gguk-ah…” Seokjin is using that tone of voice he always does when Jeongguk gets riled up like this, the one that means he’s treating him like a pup. Sometimes he likes it. Today is not one of those days. “We need Yoongi with us at the main house…”

Wrong thing to say. 

Jeongguk scoffs, “So he gets to see her before me? Are you joking?” 

His bonds pang– the internal urge of half of him wanting to soothe the others displeasure combating with his temperament still burning from the night before. The rest are lucky Hoseok managed to calm him down before he took off on his own last night. 

“No.” There could be something more to it, something they’re not telling him. They never tell him things. Or maybe they do– either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s pissed right now. All he can feel is that. “We just…” 

“They don’t want you to see what the others did and freak out.” Jeongguk has never been more thankful for Hoseok’s blunt tone– at least someone will tell it to him like it is, even when he is worked up like this. 

“Thats…” He would like to argue against their stance– that he totally would not blow up and pounce seeing what Jimin and Tae had done– but the words die on his tongue. He knows it's more than likely, so… he chooses a different route to argue his case. 

He stands a little taller, “I just want to see. I should get to know how my mates been living.” 

“You can see that after, can’t you?” Jimin grumbles, finally merging himself back into the main conversation from where Taehyung had him dragged away before. 

Oh, of course, it would be Jimin saying that very thing. The one who wants to avoid Jeongguk seeing whatever state they left his soulmate's den in. 

“Jimin, be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, trying once again to be the mediator. Jeongguk normally thinks it’s an incredible skill to have. He respects Seokjin a lot for him stepping up as second in command of the pack, but he’s having trouble retaining any of that sense now as he feels the biting breeze against his cheeks. As he feels the woods trying to speak to him. 

“We need you to take the lead here, okay? Manage these 2 and direct them if she’s at the truck instead of the house.” 

He feels like he’s going to scream. 

See, the issue here is that Gguk doesn’t give a shit about pack dynamics. 

He feels like a broken record due to how often he repeats it, but all he cares about is you. 

He doesn’t give a shit that more people are needed to case a house than a truck. He doesn’t care that Jimin and Yoongi can’t be in a group together out of fear of them fighting. Doesn’t care that he can’t be with Yoongi either due to the fact he will definitely be fighting him. 

Hell, it doesn’t bother him that Hoseok doesn’t see the point in getting you, or that Seokjin is only following along because of Joon’s lead. Sure, he’s frustrated by the way Yoongi’s eyes light up whenever you are discussed, and by the way that Tae shrinks away at the same mention. He didn’t even argue last night when he was excluded from Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin’s meeting last night while they were plotting today out.

He doesn’t care that the groups split makes the most logical sense– that the packs 3 highest in command should all be at the larger site. He doesn’t even care that the rest of them probably don’t even realise that he understands all of it– that he accounts for every minor detail, too.

He doesn’t give a shit about fucking anything other than getting to you and it feels like the others just aren’t listening to how his wolf howls for you. 

He feels like he’s going in circles. 

His head certainly is. 

He should just go. He should just start listening to his instincts just like everyone else does. He should– 

Namjoon’s solid hand comes down on his shoulder, his frame leaning down just slightly to look in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Gguk-ah. I’m counting on you. If you find her, you’ll catch her.” 

Fuck. Jeongguk does care about that. 

Cares about Joon. About the other pure-alphas approval. 

As his heart begins to beat a little faster, he takes a step back while tossing the strap of his gun over his shoulder. His boots crunch against the solid soil as he turns his back to the rest of the pack, making sure his face is hidden before any sort of blush tries to rise to his cheeks. 

Joon always makes fun of him for that.

“Whatever.” He grunts out, trying to keep it a secret how affected by his pack alpha he is. He’s not the pack’s pup anymore. He shouldn’t get so worked up over little things. “Let’s go.”

“If you see anything, radio.” Hoseok reminds, a slight strain in his voice from what Jeongguk can only imagine is another stretch. Another part of the generals routine. “Kill anything you see, infected people or alive ones. Doesn’t matter to me.” 

As if Jeongguk doesn’t know that already. 

He grunts, marching off down the unbeaten path with his two elder packmates in tow. His brain tuning out the words of the other four as his brain already moves onto the next thing. As the woods start to feel more and more familiar the deeper he finds himself going inside.

…He’s going to make sure the promise he made to the you in his dreams stays alive and well.

Yoongi's pace meanders a few behind the rest of the group, the heavy metal of his favourite gun thunking against his back with every step he takes. The smell of the damp forest floor invades his nostrils with every small pant he takes, the morning dew making the floor wet as mud decides to cling to his boots. 

He never thought he would be out in the woods again. 

His head tilts towards the sky as he thinks, lets his mind wander away from the sounds of birds while he has a moment to do so. His body instinctively following the guidance of the rest of his mates without having to put any conscious effort into doing so, something in him knowing they would keep him safe even if he got a little distracted. 

The last time Yoongi stepped foot into the forest… into any woods like these… it had to be at least 10 years ago.

He doesn’t know how you live in them. How you survive it.

He knows the crushing weight of the trees.  

He’s been trying to figure out how since last night, to be honest. Ever since Jimin mapped out roughly where you had been staying, he’s been wondering why you forced yourself out here. How long you’ve been managing.

The woods are so tall, how do you fight against them all on your own? 

Yoongi couldn’t. Still can’t, probably. 

Logically, he has to remind himself, something dense like this is probably safer from intruders– not safe enough, if Jimin and Taehyung were able to find you–  and zombies. There were far less out here than there were constantly battering against the walls of their compound. Hoseok had only managed to spot 2 on their hike so far, both are double-dead now. So comes safety from others in isolation, he guesses. Maybe that’s how you view it. He almost wishes he could, too. 

Still not safe enough. 

Yeah, for once Yoongi has to agree with his inner alpha. You’re not safe enough. Not if two of his pack mates were able to track you down. Not if what they say is true about you having been out here alone for who knows how long. 

As much as he hates the idea of taking that decision away from you, he hates the idea of you dying even more. He hates the idea of not being able to keep you safe from pain, from letting you rot out here.

That’s all forests do. They infest your brain with rot. 

Yoongi can’t stand the idea of stumbling upon you, fungus covering your skin. 

He can give you back other freedoms later. It’s what he’s promised himself. You’ll– okay, you probably won’t like his pack at first. He would be the first person to admit that, regardless of how much he cares for them. But… but eventually you might come around. You might like hi–

Yoongi shakes his head, forcing himself away from the train of thought his alpha keeps forcing him down. 

He’s coming to get you, to protect you as a friend. Someone he considers a friend, even if it was only one night spent together under fictional stars. Even if he did just plan to let it all blur away.

He’s not coming to you as an alpha with a prerogative. He just… he wants you to be okay. Especially after what Jimin and Taehyung did. He just wants to make sure that you're safe. That you’re not spiralling like he would be under the same circumstances. 

Yoongi hates the woods. 

…Yoongi wants Jeongguk to forgive him. 

He probably won’t. 

He should probably stop worrying himself over it. He has more pressing matters to deal with– ones that are only a few meters away, not in an entirely different group, heading to another location. 

The guilty part of him hopes Jeongguk will find you first, but the selfish part of him, the ever present one that seems intertwined with his wolf, hopes that he will get the honour.

It isn’t good for you to be alone. You shouldn’t have to suffer through it.

Yoongi is projecting, he knows it. He also can’t stop it, and honestly, doesn’t want to. He wants to feel connected to you. Maybe he’s being selfish again by allowing himself to do so.

…Well, he is the only one who’s actually met you. He’s the one you felt– feel safe with.

 His fingers twitch, he wants to just hurry up with it all, already. He wants to get you out of here, bring you to the house. Comfort you, if you’d let him.

…Would you let him? 

His heart starts beating a little bit faster. That can’t be good. 

“You’re thinking too much.” Hoseoks’s hushed voice makes its way into his muddled mind, a broad shoulder bumping into his unsteady frame. 

Yoongi’s eyes slowly draw back from the sky, instead finding their place upon Hoseoks’s handsome face instead. Too handsome. It looks like it was carved by one of the greats. It isn’t fair. 

“That’s rich coming from you.” Yoongi deadpans like he definitely wasn’t just admiring the pack's chief of combat. 

He totally wasn’t. “You never think when Namjoons’ ‘round.”

God, they’ve been together how many years and Yoongi still pretends to be coy. He knows Hoseok sees through it, though, so there’s really no harm. Not like when the Jeongguk first joined the pack and became acquainted with Yoongi’s sharp, unrelenting tongue. Yoongi will never forget the complete embarrassment of having to explain what Jimin dubbed his ‘cuteness aggression.’ 

Bleh.

It was the most embarrassing day of his life. 

Thankfully, Hoseok likes it when Yoongi gets mean. Says it ‘gets him going’. 

Hmph. 

“Yeah, well it’s their job. I’m not on the clock right now.” Hoseok smiles, both of his arms raising up to hold the back of his head up. “Let Seokjin deal with it. Looks like he has a stick up his ass, anyway.”

Yeah, Yoongi guesses that’s true. Hoseok isn’t leading the pack’s recruits on any kind of clearing mission, nor is he leading anyone into war. Still, he doesn’t know how he is just so relaxed about everything when Yoongi feels like he’s dying inside. 

Still, he doesn’t think he agrees with the idea of it being anyone else's job, especially not Seokjins’.

Yoongi hazards at the body next to the pack alphas. He still doesn’t understand why Seokjin acts like a saint. Their rooms are next to each other, he’s heard the elder’s rants. Yoongi’s one of the few other than the pack alpha that knows his position. 

Huh, maybe Seokjin never realised how thin the walls are. 

“Bullshit. You’re a control freak.” Yoongi grunts, “If Namjoon didn’t force you out of taking the lead, you’d be up there instead.” 

Hoseok simply hums, acknowledging Yoongi. Probably agreeing that it's true in his head.

“Jin!” Hoseok calls up ahead, pulling Seokjin back towards the tail end rather than the front. Yoongi watches as he turns, as he lets his footsteps slow to allow for Yoongi and Hoseok to catch up. 

Yoongi feels Hoseok’s hands on his shoulders, forcing him up in front, a big heart-shaped smile on his lips, “This one’s thinking too much. Calm him down.”  

“Yah. Stop it.” Yoongi tries to shrug off the younger, but fails miserably. Hoseok’s grip is tight, his fists massaging the flesh, “That’s not his job.”

The conversation feels easy. Too easy, for the current conditions. Zfor the way Yoongi is feeling. He doesn’t fully feel like he deserves their care.

“Aish! What are you talking about! It’s what I was recruited for!” Seokjin huffs, a fake glare directed at Namjoon’s back steady across his features.  

“Receuited?” Yoongi almost wants to laugh, “Not the story I heard.” 

As much as Yoongi likes to feign disinterest, he certainly does not miss the colouring of red rising to Seokjin’s ears. The corners of his hips curl, already completely aware the elder is going to go on one of his tirades. 

Cute. Seokjin is cute. 

“Yah!” The elders whisper raises a hair, his lips pouting out a bit more as his words increase in pace. “That brat wouldn’t leave me alone— what did you expect me to do?! He wasn’t even in my department—“

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes staring at the ground. Yoongi doesn’t even try to deny the expression is out of fondness. “You trying to let the whole forest know we’re here?”

“I—“ Seokjin pauses, eyes going wide as he realises just how loud he was getting. His ears get just a bit darker, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, the eldest in the pack just clears his throat, standing a bit straighter. “What were we discussing?” 

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirks, “How Namjoon pursued you for years before you gave into him.”

“Other than that.” 

He shrugs, not really remembering. He wasn’t paying much attention, more so looking for a distraction. 

“Ah,” The weight of Seokjin’s arm is dropped over Yoongi’s shoulder, his head shaking along with the addition. “That’s right. You were thinking too hard. Is it being out here?” There's a slight pause before Seokjin continues, “You don’t need to think about back then anymore.” 

He wishes it was that easy. 

Hoseok’s echo of the past blinks fresh in his mind— ‘Live in the moment with me.’ That’s what Hoseok had said back then. 

Seokjin’s smile feels warm when it’s directed just at Yoongi, “Just let hyung take care of it, okay? We’ll be home soon.” 

Now he is sure his heart is moving at a faster pace than before. 

Hyung.

Yoongi never used those sort of honorifics with Seokjin— it just wasn’t in the nature of their relationship. The elder never outwardly seemed to care, anyway, other than in half-assed jokes. It’s only in times like these that it felt like it mattered. 

Suddenly, Seokjin’s face loses all sense of peace, a cold mask of stone falling over it at the exact same time his body freezes in place, the hike coming to a close. Namjoon’s hand in the air being the direct cause. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. It is time for action now. 

Namjoon's fingertips curl towards his palm in a silent instruction to lower their frames closer to the ground. The slow, controlled approach to the house already having been planned out since the night before.

Namjoon sends a glance towards the pack’s general, signalling the change of power between them, Hoseok taking over direction.

Yoongi follows it silently without question, waiting for Hoseok’s motion to continue the pursuit forward. He’s always been in awe of the way Hoseok is able to direct everything, to make the motions of a unit seem fluid and conjoined rather than just heaping bodies following orders.

It only takes a glance from Hoseok before Namjoon is moving– the pack alpha gliding through the underbrush as he makes his way around the back of the cabin where he is meant to be stationed in case you try to make a quick exit from the rear. 

Yoongi’s job is a lot more simple than the rest of theirs, he is only meant to be a lookout. Honestly, he’s thankful for it. He’s not sure he could manage much more upon seeing you again. Upon seeing the new conditions of your home.

A few seconds pass, a soft cooing whistle from Hoseok along with the tilt of his head telling Yoongi it’s his turn to move. He does as ordered, moving up from his squat, though certainly not returning to full height as he takes a light jog through the underbrush. Only settling himself down when he finds the angle he was looking for. 

Checking left, checking right– yeah, here will do just fine. He can see your front door, as well as both sides of your house. He’ll be able to spot you if you try to make it through a window. With fewer guys, it might be a little more difficult to catch you, but Yoongi knows Hoseok enjoys the chase.

… He hopes it doesn’t come down to that, but if he does, he’ll try his best to comfort you even if he isn’t the best at it. 

Carefully, Yoongi lowers himself down to the forest floor, pulling the gun off his shoulder right along with the action. He clicks the legs of it down, lowering himself to his stomach to check the view. 

Just as he suspected, it’s perfect. He can see everything. Will definitely be able to spot you if you try to move. 

Fucking hell. Those goddamn assholes broke most of your windows– he can only assume they weren’t like that before. 

It isn’t long before Hoseok and Seokjin come into view, their bodies doing similar low jogs to the ones Yoongi just performed himself. Though their angle was towards the door– if you were here, they were going to get to you first.

Yoongi shakes his head, forcing the jealousy out of his gut. It’s fucking stupid. There isn’t any guarantee you’re still here, anyway. Yoongi knows he would have cleared out first thing if it was hi–

His  breath stops in his throat, his head raising from his site. Pupils darting around the scene in front of him. 

Fuck. Fuck. No, no no. Why is this happening now? Why?

Everything should be fine. Everything is going smoothly. Namjoon should be positioned around the rear of the building by now, Hoseok and Seokjin are counting down in front of your door, ready to make their move. Yoongi is keeping an eye out as he lays against the forest as Hoseok’s hand raises, starting from 5. There are no zombies around, nor other people that Yoongi can smell.

So why why why why why is this happening right now?

Why is something wrong?

That same sensation that settled over him yesterday has returned at a ten-fold. 

Yoongi feels an overwhelming sense of dread in his gut. Worse than he’s felt in a decade. 

Panic starts to take over before he’s able to calm it down, his body rising to a stand. Something shakes against his thigh, but he can’t comprehend it. Not when he knows something is about to go wrong, but he doesn’t know what yet.

The universe had to curse him with the ability to know, but not with the ability to do anything about it before it’s too late.

His legs are moving before his mind can catch up, his body rushing towards the door to stop them. He can’t breathe, he can’t think. Words are willing themselves to leave him. They have to regroup, they would understand. They trust him. They trust his judgment. 

Just a little bit further. A little bit further.

He should have said something. 

The last of Hoseok’s fingers fall, Seokjin’s shoulder slams into the door, breaking it from its hinges. He thinks another figure swoops in, but he isn't really sure. 

The entire world has just become red. 

Yoongi, he can’t move. He can’t do anything. The world stops rotating on its axis, everything moves to a standstill right along with Yoongi’s form. He’s positive things are happening around him, but he can’t process a single one. He can’t.

One second, everything is red. The next, it’s white.

He can’t hear anything, he can only feel red hot pain blossoming in his gut as something hits him. As he is tossed backwards several feet. 

The trees quake due to the force.

Boom.

It doesn’t take Jeongguk long to get to the truck– or maybe it does. He doesn’t remember half of the journey. 

He remembers splitting off from the pack, Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind him. He remembers hearing something reminiscent to a giggle beyond that was similar to the ones in his dreams. Remembers deciding that they meant he was on the right track to find you, that his alpha would never steer him wrong.

He didn’t talk at all the entire journey there, staying focused on the prize. There isn’t time for  any distractions. He needs to see if you’re at the truck, then rush over to the cabin in case you’re there instead. He needs to hold you, tell you that you’re safe now, and bring you home.

Simple enough. There isn’t really much to do but actually do it. He can stop fantasizing about you once you’re actually in his arms. Maybe then the wolf inside of him will finally settle.

He just wants to breathe you in. For you to build a nest in his room.

He promises he won’t go in it! Not until you give him permission to. But just knowing you feel safe enough around him, safe enough around his scent, shit he wants it more than anything else. 

He even has the perfect corner picked out for you already, he’s cleared out space in his closet, too, if you’d rather go there. Sure, he did that forever ago when he still remembered your face, but he’s been keeping it open ever since. He’ll keep it open forever waiting for–

A large hand tugs at the back of his shirt, halting him in his advance forward. The heat of it is almost blinding, but Jeongguk doesn’t let himself get distracted. Of course not, he’s an alpha on a mission.

A haphazard glance over his shoulder is the only thing he offers, finding Taehyung standing there, Jimin still quite a ways away, keeping himself separated. Hm. He’s been like that since yesterday, keeping himself a bit more closed off. 

Good. He should feel bad, even if it was a mistake. Even if Jimin didn’t know you were his.  

Another tug and Jeongguk is brought back to the moment again, a grunt signalling from his throat as a question meant to ask Taehyung what he wants. 

Taehyung’s tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip lazily, his eyes moving from their stare on Jeongguk to farther ahead on the path. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Taehyung wants him to look, too.

His head turns back to the main trail, vision narrowing. 

Fuck. He didn’t notice that.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Jeongguk’s heart swells, hope filling him to the very brim. Butterflies already dancing in his gut as his eyes go wide, as he feels a gentle heat curve into his cheeks. 

Footprints. There are footprints on the same path they’re following now. 

If Taehyung’s insistence is anything to go by, shit, it means your scent still dots the trees, too. Means that recently you followed the same path Jeongguk trails now. That you might just be living in the very truck Jeongguk is called towards now. 

You– are you really waiting at the truck for him? 

God, his entire being in inflating. His alpha is howling at him to go get you– that something as perfect as you shouldn’t be living out here. You shouldn’t be subjected to living in your truck because of what his idiot mates did. 

Jeongguk’s legs are moving faster than before– he doesn’t really know when his pace picked up, but he knows the others are close to follow. 3 pairs of heavy thuds are marking up the forest floor, along with the sound of clanging guns against shoulders. 

Within a few minutes he’s there. He’s standing in front of something you call your own. 

It takes his breath away. Of course his omega would drive something cute like this– it makes perfect sense for you. Even if he doesn’t know you well yet, he’s sure of it. Oh, or wait… maybe you only use this one cause it’s convenient? Maybe another vehicle style suits you better? He’ll get you a hundred cars, if you want. That way you can know what all of them feel like. It’ll feel so good to provide for you. 

He moves in without really thinking, stalking towards the car, his noise unable to stop itself from the constant sniffing, attempting to weed out your scent from the rest of the woods. It’s difficult for him to, if he’s being honest. He always gets overwhelmed when so many different odours surround him, but he tries for you anyways. 

He thinks he gets some of it, something that smells like beta– he knows better, he knows that even if you smell wrong, you’re still an omega– with hints of eucalyptus. Like some kind of herb used for healing, if he were to guess. 

He frowns. 

Now, standing only a few feet away from your truck, away from the source, he can tell it’s at least a day old. There isn’t anything that smells more fresh, there’s no sign of life within the cabin even with how forgetful he was at the volume of his approach.

It isn’t his fault though! He knows he was supposed to be quiet just in case but you distracted him. It doesn’t look like it matters anyway, you’re clearly nowhere to be found. 

Jeongguk’s shoulders drop– all that hope that had been welling up drifts out. A laboured sigh from Jimin behind him, along with a kick to something– when Jeongguk turns his head, he identifies it as a fishing net with brush interlaced with the rope– signals that the others are sure of the same thing. 

“She’s not here.” Even though Jeongguk is on better terms with Jimin than Yoongi, he still would rather not hear him talk right now. It’s not really any fault of his own, but stating the obvious when it’s clear Jeongguk is already irritated? When he can clearly see that you’re not here? It just makes Jeongguk’s teeth clench together a little tighter.

“I can see that.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, one hand closing around the passenger cabin handle. The muscle in his arm straining in preparation for it to resist the movement, for the door to jerk back. 

It doesn’t. It’s unlocked. 

Jeongguk grunts as he stumbles just slightly, not enough to cause worry or for him to actually fall, but enough for his eyes to go wide. One hand reaching to steady himself on the top of the interior doorframe. His shoulders hunching just slightly while a small, growled ‘fuck’ slips from the back of his throat. 

Thank god you aren’t here. That would’ve looked totally uncool.

He grunts, forcing himself to stand straight and only give half checks to his right and left to re-confirm your absence. Even if he wants to see you, he doesn’t want to look so lame. “We’re still checking. Maybe she left something to say where she’s going.”

“Or maybe she’s at her house.” Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow, the back of his throat itching with a warning growl that wants to be let through. Didn’t Jimin hear Joon? Jeongguk is in charge, he shouldn’t be–

Jeongguk hears a sniffing sound right next to his ear, distracting him. It’s Taehyung taking the chance to scent the inside of the cabin, he guesses. Doesn’t really know what the other is looking for though. All he can smell is a slightly distressed undercurrent to your beta– it’s okay, he knows what you actually are, even if your scent is trying to lie to him– scent, most significantly clinging to the bag lying right across the passenger seat in a heap.

His frown deepens. Probably those two that made you smell like that. Made you scared with no one around to comfort you. There is a 0% chance Jeongguk is going to feel less bitter about it any time soon.

In the back of his head, Jeongguk realises the sniffing has stopped 

He doesn’t offer Jimin any kind of response, instead focusing on the bag. Maybe you had left a map in there? Some supplies? Maybe just anything that would make him feel closer to you?

He should take it, right? That way, when you come home, you won’t be missing whatever's inside. 

His lips purse just slightly, head nodding in agreement as his hand reaches out to grab it. 

Well, he was grabbing it. Now, he’s on the forest floor, his head banging against the surface. Taehyung on top of him, his head pressed into Jeongguk’s throat, not even thinking about letting him up. 

The growls begin to leave Jeongguk instantly, a second nature swelling up to the top. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me!” He still won’t let up. He’s keeping Jeongguk pinned with everything he has. Jeongguk can’t see Jimin either. Can only feel the pounding in his head and shoulders from being throttled to the ground. 

Is this a fucking coup or something? Were they just waiting to get Jeongguk alone so he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore? 

Jeongguk’s growls increase in volume, his limbs thrashing to try and get out from underneath Taehyung. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe they would fucking try something like this.

“Bomb.” Taehyung’s panicked baritone sends a lightning bolt through Jeongguk’s spine. He’s not fighting anymore. “Bomb inside. Bomb in bag. Don’t touch. Don’t touch! Can smell it! Intentional! Bomb! Don’t touch! Don’t!”

There’s…? You left a…? 

Jeongguk looks back towards the car, his entire face morphing into that of complete disbelief.  

You were trying to protect yourself… did you…? They said they didn’t see your car yesterday.. The covering was pulled off to the side, making the truck noticeable. Your footprints were in a clear line in the mud when you could just have easily veered off the beaten path, covered up your trail.

This was on purpose. You were trying to protect yourself if Jimin and Taehyung came– 

What would have happened if Taehyung wasn’t there?

Jeongguk’s blood runs cold. 

Joon doesn’t have a Taehyung at the house. 

His mates can’t smell if the same trap has been laid just beyond the door.

Jeongguk shoves Taehyung off of him, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A newfound strength adorning his features as he manages to rattle the big puppy off. His frame rolling onto its stomach, reaching for the radio in his belt loop as he looks towards the direction of your cottage, his pupils shaky. 

“Joon– Joon! There was a bomb in the truck! Abort the pursuit! Abort it!” His voice is yelling, crackling as it bounces through the radio. 

Time feels like it’s extending itself, 30 seconds morphing into half an hour as he waits for a response. 

There is none.

Shit. Shit. Shit! Shit! SHIT! 

Jeongguk bolts upright, forgetting about the car, leaving it in the past while his mates are in danger in the present. “Fuck! Go! We have to go now!” 

His pheromones, the same ones Joon used last night are unintentionally leaking from his pores, his body already beginning to rush through the tense trees. His head is spinning– he doesn’t know if the others followed. Only that he has to get to the rest of his mates before, before–

The sound rattles the trees, a deep ball of red rising above them. 

Jeongguk freezes, his mind blank as he stares towards the distance in awe. 

If it wasn’t his mates you were targeting, he would think you’re incredible. But right now, you’re not a thought in his mind. He’ll be upset with himself later over that fact. The fact of the matter, he knows where his bonds lie. He knows how much they’re in pain.  

You didn’t know it was them. You don’t know it’s your soulmates. You’re just so scared, just so… everything hurts. His body is on fire. 4 spots across his form are radiating a pain he’s never felt before. 

It hurts so bad. 

So bad. 

He wants to crumple to the floor. He wants to sob. He doesn’t know what to do. 

“Get a fucking hold of yourself!!” Oh, Jimin’s screaming at him. He wonders when that started. When the shorter of the two grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him, when the look in his eyes became so deadly that they lost all of their spark.

The slap to his face stings, but he’s thankful for it. It finally brings him back to the moment, finally forces him to do what he needs to do. 

“Stupid purebred! Fucking move! You’re useless to them if you can’t even do that!” Jimin’s shouting should sting, but it doesn’t in the slightest. He knows the words are true. 

Jeongguk is running again, faster than he thinks he’s run in his entire life. He doesn’t really remember the rest of the interaction with Jimin, his memories feel jumbled. He knows at one point Jimin began dragging him towards the house, then he remembers overtaking Taehyung on his own while running. 

The sight he sees when he finally reaches the cabin is one he’ll never forget. 

He’s so lucky he’s never had the experience of his mates being in abject danger before. He doesn’t know if he could ever take feeling like this again.

The house, what's left of it, is up in flames. Wood panels have been blown off the side, half of the covered porch has caved in upon itself. 

His chest heaves as he finally spots his pack. His soulmates. The ones he loves the most in the world. Namjoon’s form is on top of Seokjin and Hoseok’s bodies, looking like he pushed them out of the way just in time. Wood scattered debris lays around them still burning bright, though none directly on top.

A whizz of air passes by Jeongguk, Jimin’s shorter form running past him in the direction of Yoongi.

Yoongi. 

Jimin is hauling a piece of burning wood off Yoongi’s stomach, his hands shaking his shoulders. His voice is yelling, but Jeongguk can’t really hear it. At some point he began to move, too. His body acting for him while his mind remains scattered. 

His arms haul Namjoon off of the others, it’s clear all of them are injured– they’ll need to get medical attention when they get home. Seokjin, as much as he wants to, likely won’t be in the state to provide it. Jeongguk will yell at him if he tries.

Taehyung frame finally joins Joengguk too, following his lead in grabbing Seokjin instead, propping his body up rather than continuing to let him lay against the forest floor. From Jeongguk’s extremely limited medical knowledge, he knows his knee looks bad. But so does Hoseok’s shoulder. And god, Jeongguk has never been more thankful for the fire-resistant lining of the gear they wore today. He can’t imagine what the state of Namjoon’s back would be without it. 

“Hyung! Hyung!” Jeongguk hears his voice, but he doesn’t remember willing it to sound. He finds himself in the same place as Jimin, his hands shaking the pack alpha's shoulders, trying to wake him from his passed out state.

Fuck. If only he was faster getting to the truck, if only Taehyung was able to tell him sooner none of this would have happened! He would have been able to tell them and, and, and– 

“”M fine.” Jeongguk feels air enter him for the first time at the sound of Joon’s voice, even if it does sound a little weak. When Joon wheezes, his heart still pangs, “‘M fine. No one died. Take care of the others, they need it more.” 

Jeongguk has never wanted to sob more in his life from relief. 

The relief is short-lived when his eyes shift towards Seokjin being coddled by Taehyung.

Hoseok has propped himself up, too. He’s looking off in the distance. 

He’s smiling. 

You know, when Hoseok said he wasn’t interested in having an omega, you didn’t have to go and be such a fucking brat about it. 

Yeah, yeah. Sure. Whatever. He was going to let his packmates have their new little toy until they got bored of it– he didn’t mind. Pretty pussy is pretty pussy, and alphas have their urges. Hoseok has never minded sharing a beta between a few of them for a night in the past, though that stopped when Jimin joined and started killing them. 

Hoseok still didn’t really care. 

He didn’t have any loyalties to them. Didn’t wanna bite them. They were just for fun.

If the youngest wanted a new pet, he wouldn’t deny him. He bets he would look cute staring at you like you were the world. Teetering after you while Hoseok had his.. Fun. 

He wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of playing with you, too. Again, pretty pussy. 

And sure, Hoseok never really cared much for the second gender that seems so– his upper lip wants to curl– mystifying, almost like mythical creatures with their decline. He remembers even back in school when he was learning about them, being bored out of his mind. 

Everything about them just seemed so boring.

Helpless. 

Culling. 

Too much work for what? Something that just likes to sit around the house all day pretty? God, sounds like his fucking nightmare.

Hoseok has always thrived on the exciting. On whatever could get his blood pumping the fastest. 

It’s what Namjoon promised him. The alpha never did disappoint. 

Months ago, when Namjoon first came to him about the idea of getting an omega, Hoseok thought that it might be the first time he would. He never expected a desire so… simple, baseline… traditional, from the pack alpha. He agreed, sure, but he didn’t expect anything from it. Thought that the alpha might finally be becoming boring. 

He should be admonishing his past self for ever doubting him, but his present self feels high as a kite. 

This is certainly a motherfucking treat.

Even with the pain radiating from his shoulder socket– it’s definitely popped out– he doesn’t deny it. His tongue, despite its pain from biting through the meaty flesh during the blast, runs over his teeth. Copper tang in every breath he breathes. 

Awwwww, and you planned it all yourself, huh? Laid out a little bomb to catch the wolves in a trap? What an adorable little doe, thinking you could be big. 

He raises himself up on his forearms, flinching a little at the weight put onto his shoulder. He should be screaming from it now, right? That’s what anyone else would do. His cock is hard.

“Hyung! Hyung!” Shit. He really can’t hear now. Most of it just rings. Call it love the way he was still able to hear Jeongguk through it. Whatever. It’ll come back soon. He’s got other things to focus on. 

His eyes continue to scan the tree line, looking for something. He’s not sure what. 

He’ll find out soon. 

Ha, you really did a number on all of them, huh? Did alllllllll of this just for them? Wow, you must really care. You must really want Hoseok to think you’re worth it, huh? That you’re better than all those other little omegas out there?

You want him? That's the message you were trying to send, huh? That you want a chase? 

You’re fucking lucky Hoseok loves them. You want him to love you, too? Are you ready for something like that? You really think so?

His lips crack open, a splash of red coating the inside edge. Another trail of blood running down his cheek from where he nosedived into the dirt. 

You wanted his attention? That’s why you pulled this bratty little stunt? Well now you have it. 

He sees a glint of light in the distance, way beyond the trees. Light reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, huh? Cute. 

His smile grows, blood on his teeth. The taste of copper still coming through on his punctured tongue. His canines have never been more excited to bite. 

Found you, baby. 

Let’s play red riding hood. 

“Boom.” 

Your voice is soft, cusping just on the edge of the wind. Certainly nowhere near as loud as the sound that just permeated the forest, but felt as though it was even greater than it. A beautiful, radiating fire lighting the trees in the distance, a new glow.

On your face rests a satisfied, self serving smile. 

You, and your predictions, had been right. They came back. 

Now, there was no way you could be certain it was the same alphas that came to destroy you yesterday, of course not. It would be silly to completely presume but… it was nice to think it was, anyway. Had your legs feeling lighter as they rest against the wooden edge of the fire escape, your body slumped against the high-back stool that you just so happened to find in the fire tower. 

Ha. Fire tower. Ironic. 

Either way, you knew they would be back, and now they knew the consequences of doing such a thing, even if it is a pity the second bomb hadn’t gone off alongside the first.

The corner of your lips quirk a little higher, hand finally reaching to grab the binoculars from their place hanging against the chair. The cool metal raising to your eyes, allowing you to see even more of the beauty you had just created. 

Mmm, the view isn’t too much better– you suppose you did walk pretty far– but still. The act of seeing everything is divine. Your house, the place you had crafted for years, may now be in shambles, but so are the alphas. Poor things. 

Well, you’ll build your life back better, anyway. Every new start has become more and more easy. Lessons have taught you the proper steps, especially the steps to properly disappear. That everyone should have the tools and the knowledge to make an out if need be. 

Your bottom lip perks out in a bit of a mocking pout, head tilting to the side as the fire begins to grow. It won’t make it far, you know that. The conditions aren’t great for it to actually spiral, but it feels prophetic almost. It feels perfect.

Leave no witnesses.

Mhm, and after they saw your nest, you knew you had to. Fixed up the house to make it look like you were planning on trying to stay, left your car uncovered as a second honeypot. Disabled your trip wires to make it seem like you didn’t know what you were doing. Packed all the suppressants you could. Made sure to leave a little trail to each. 

Agitated clucking sounds from your left, drawing you out of your thoughts. The binoculars leaving your eyes as your head twists down towards her, instead. 

Ah. Of course, there was Cheryl, too. 

To be honest, you tried to leave her. To let her go back to the woods and live with the wild flock but… she wouldn’t stop following you.

Pack has to stick together, you suppose.

“Shhhh, shhh shh…” Your fingers slowly stroke down Cheryl's back, her plumage puffed up from the noise that rang throughout the forest. “You gotta be quiet. They could be watching us back.” 

You stand from your spot, moving back towards the interior of the little fire tower. One hand scooping up Cheryl from her tummy, the other slinging your pack over your shoulder. A continued soft hushing leaving as you walk. 

You have no plans of unpacking, you’d be leaving this location soon enough. 

A small buzzing sensation runs through your entire being, the aftereffects of your successful plan still migrating through every one of your nerves, lighting each up like little stars in little galaxies. 

Your lips curl once again, little sharpened canines hanging from below your upper lip, the corner of your smile tweaking upwards. “Well, if they’re still alive, that is.”

chapter 4 <- index -> chapter 6

⌬ : notes:

"oh, these weren't homemade. they were made in a factory. a bomb factory."

🧍‍♀️

ha..haha.. right guys?

*a tomato is thrown at me*

DAMN! Fine! Lemme just pack my shit and--- lmaooooo I'm joking!! Seriously though, I am desperate to hear what you guys think about this chapter. What I have been teasing for awhile has finally kicked off!! Like i said, reader still had a few things up her sleeve. She's crafty, huh? Either way, it isn't too much longer before she meets the guys!! it should be happening next chapter, isn't that exciting? It is to me!!

I am desperate to hear all of your thoughts on this chapter-- it really is my favourite one that I've written so far. Especially now that we have 6/8 povs unlocked for the main cast... mwahahah, hoseok is certainly a treat, isn't he? I have full confidence you will either hate him, or think he is entirely too hot (i am of the later group lmao, I know what I am) (a freak, if that wasn't clear LMAO)

Jeongguk too, with how desperate he is to have you :'< poor guy. Plus a look into the way he joined thep pack ?! Either way!! As always, please let me know any and all of your thoughts, I absolutely love hearing them!! Everything coming together, and the objects set in motion are rolling super fast now, even if it doesn't totally seem like it yet.

Ahhh, anyway, this is entirely too long! As always, thank you for reading and falling into the story of summer rain just like I have!!! We have officially hit 100 pages in my google doc! See you guys when the next chapter finishes out!! MWAH!!!

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — he’s not really thinking about enlisting, is he?

( ♬ ) — what do you mean shakespeare shaved his head?.. oh no.

( ✎ ) — don’t military bases have security? how the hell did that man get inside?

( ♛ ) — he’s proper pulling a cross country right now. the boys look confused. and horrified.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, did you miss me? it’s been a while since i’ve shared my secret recommendations with you. but, since the two year anniversary of this special series has recently passed, i thought it was about time i spoiled you again. i’ve had quite a while to think about this one. so, i hope you’re ready. let’s give shakespeare something to enlist for.

( ♛ ) AMALTHEA — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 40k !!

best friend’s older brother!au, smut (18+), fluff, angst.

bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my friend’s brother! bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother!

this is one of the BEST seokjin fics i’ve ever read. straight to the point but there is no other way to put it. got to the point i would wake up earlier just to read another chapter before work. i was always present, bitch.

alike most of you, as someone who reads A LOT (re: i have no credentials for this, just my mum), i can tell when someone pours their every blood, sweat and tears (ha.) into writing. and for me, this is one of those writers.

this writer really shocked me at how much i connected to this story whilst reading n how attached i felt after finishing. caught me off guard, but so did death to shakespeare… sooo, what can i say.

“it’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don't know if he meant his family, or you.” dude i wish you could’ve seen my face. lmfao.

let’s just say there’s a reason this one’s first. amazed. truly.

( ♛ ) MOON MAGIC — by @jincherie

!! hoseok x reader | 33.8k !!

mermaid!au, pirate!au, fluff (like.. teeth rotting).

“and he calls me mooonlight toooooo,” she sings into the empty crowd with tears in her eyes. she meaning me.

now i know i’m known for having a sweet tooth, but damn! youse are gonna eventually turn me into an elizabethan england commoner. y’know, the crap dental hygiene n all. (re: shakespeare’s teeth.)

but, you know me. i looooove a good ‘ol fantasy inspired fic, so i guess i’m willing to risk a little here. and this one was worth risking for.

slams hand onto the table. the world building! this writer was not playing around when it came to painting us a picture of the world they wanted to create. i wanna live in this fic i’m not joking. get me in touch with namjoon asap for some of that moon magic shit. ok, rolls credits.

perfect in every single way. this is my first run-in with this writer, but am i swimming (sorry.) my way over to their masterlist? yeeees.

“he laughs and tells you that, actually, it's probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.”

yea girl. not on my watch. enjoy!

( ✎ ) ALL GROWN UP — by @btsgotjams27

!! jungkook x reader | 64k !!

friends to lovers, older woman/younger man, smut (18+).

the fact this fic was loosely inspired by one of my all-time comfort kdramas… i didn’t even have to question adding it to my list. it felt like i was watching it for the first time again… deeply sighs. ahhh the nostalgia…

i had this fic bookmarked on my ao3 for the looongest time, but it was only recently that i got round to actually reading it. and i’m so glad i did. bless her, she was waiting for her moment to shine. and it’s now.

youngest kids in the family please raise your hands! all in attendance! you are welcome and appreciated here. the feeling of desperation, trying to get people to see you as your current age rather than the little kid they’ll forever remember. i think that’s why i loved this fic so much: i could relate to it.

alike this story, most fics on here are on the older side of things. but honestly, if it’s good and genuine, it’ll last forever. no matter how much time has gone by. feelings stay - perhaps even grow?

the same for our adorable pair over here. could time play in their favour?

you let me know when you finish it.

( ✮ ) ALIVE AHA FXCK — by @softyoongiionly

!! vampire!yoongi x human!reader | 42k !!

vampire!au, smut (18+), soulmate!au (you know i had to), please read the trigger warnings.

devoured. no pun intended. though other vampire synonyms include but are not limited to: consumed, ate, guzzled, feasted etc… thank you google, after a few questionable internet searches.

i cannot tell you how glad i am that shakespeare never wrote about vampires. cuz he would’ve written my ass into that damn thing and killed me off from the things i’ve said about that guy. and the things i will continue to say…

i love this fic on a personal level. it reminds me of being fourteen again, curled up in my sheets as the sun reaches the tip of my windowsill and the morning chill settles in after a night of fighting sleep to finish a fanfic. it’s safe - i’m safe.

i genuinely had so much fun reading this story. the characterisation of both the reader and yoongi is so unhinged and playful and i’m obsessed. if i could recommend it to anyone, it would be my younger self cuz i know she’d love it :,). n she did!

y’know, sometimes you just gotta read a silly - infused with twilight puns - vampire-themed yoongi fic for the world to feel alright again.

and it did - for me. n now - for you.

( ♛ ) OLDER — by @lovieku

!! dilf!jk x inexperienced!reader | 18.2k !!

smut (18+), dilf!au, best friend’s father, age gap.

pure, undeniable and utter filth. in the best fuckin’ way possible. yea, if you could crawl into my mind, plunge into the inky depths of whatever lurks there.. this is what you’d find lying on the sand floor. unadulterated sin.

i am so disgustingly obsessed with this fic i can’t explain it, hence why it’s ended up on my shelf of recommendations. it scratches and pleases a deep, desperate itch in my brain. maybe it’s the age gap, who knows?

this writer has a talent for making us - or, me. - claw at something forbidden in an almost hungry advance. the sinner doing the sinning. and goddamn, i’m impressed. n i bet shakespeare is too. well, he fuckin’ better be.

the characters are imperfect and selfish and lustful, but oh my god i love them. add on dilf!jk with his slutty, unbuttoned shirts and you have me sold.

@lovieku you are such an amazing writer. you have such a way with how you express. do not underestimate that. i am beyond excited to see your future works :)

masterpiece. but what the fuck was that ending.

( ♛ ) HABITS OF A CLANDESTINE NATURE — by @alphabetboyluvr

!! college!jk x female!oc | 16k !!

rich!jk, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, smut (18+).

he got, he got away! he got away! he got away! he’s got a way, he’s got a way! awayyyyheyeyyyyheyyy! yea, but didn’t manage to escape a 460-year-old poet, nor me.. so..

clementines, fruit trees, the sound of innocent laughter, wind chimes, a sheer blur of colour, soft hands. things that come to mind whenever i am reminded of this fic. a solid and beautiful depiction of hurt and love and everything in between.

this writer knew straight off the bat how to sell this pair to the audience. how to capture us and string us along for the journey of two hurting, longing and hurting all over again. shakespeare bought the hanging fruit that’s for damn sure… me too then, perhaps.

the vision for this story is perfect to me. i almost want to give the writer a kiss on the forehead.

i did write down one quote; used from the story. a way to sum it all up. “the perfect place to get lost. the perfect place to get found, too.”

if you’re looking for somewhere to get lost, i hope this satisfies that need. i also hope i come back to read this every once in a while. for old times sake. to get found again.

( ♬ ) GUILTY AS SIN — by @gldrushh

!! brother in law!jungkook x widow!reader | 32k !!

forbidden love!au, smut (18+), angst.

“it began to lose its meaning. healing. as if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.” oh, don’t even talk to me. people died. shakepeare died. april 23rd 1616.

god, this story is just so raw in and of itself - perfectly depicting the human experience of love and loss. inevitable and sometimes unexpected. i was - n still remain - in awe.

i crossed by this fic unexpectedly and i’m so glad that whatever butterfly effect led me to finding this succeeded, but damn that action also had consequences… like real bad… haha….

i want to cry every time this fic crosses my mind. dramatic? lil bit. but when you read it, holy shit - this will make sense to you young’uns. in due time.

well, to be even more dramatic as such… my wounds from reading this are still fresh (i will sob don’t test me), so i hand the torch over to you to make of this story what you will.

please go into this fic with no expectations. go in willingly and just… fall into it. i will be on the other side when you resurface and i will definitely say something ironic.

like i told you so. xx.

( ♛ ) CALLING PRODUCER MIN YOONGI — by @bangtan-dreamland

!! yoongi x reader | 4.6k !!

strangers to lovers, just fluff all around.

now this is the bitch i aspire to be. dials random ass numbers of random ass strangers just to yap. oh yea, that’s my kinda girl. i just hope she knows she’s the coolest person ever to exist to me. i want to buy a star for her. a big, bright one.

i think i have said this before, but never ever underestimate the power of a drabble. a short fic of little can hold the weight of ten times that amount. especially this one (which i read that long ago but has ultimately ended up here - says it all tbh).

this fic is everything and more to me. i miss it when i’m not reading it, and i miss it when it’s right in front of me. it has me wanting to ring up random people in hopes of meeting my true love - which i won’t, but who knows what might happen?

also, to point out - the immense chemistry between these characters is off the charts. felt like i was intruding on my own phone call.

good dialogue? tick. amazing characterisation? tick. interesting plot? tick. has shakespeare wanting to never learn how to use a phone in case he puts this fic to shame? tick.

lol.

( ✎ ) THE LOVE PROGNOSIS — by @awrkive

!! surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader | 90.9k !!

roommates!au, medical!au, smut (18+), fluff.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. aaaand scene!

can i be honest? y’all stress me the fuck out! and you know who you are! starts with ‘j’ ends with ‘k’. the other one being ‘s’ ends with ‘e’. but one of you i like more and it’s not you, shakespeare.

the time it took me to finish this insanely crafted three-parter was embarrassingly short. (i think i formed a dent in my bed). so when i finished i was - obviously - heartbroken, so i did what every sane person does. i read all the drabbles. aaaand the tlp social media extras. and listened to the playlist. and cried. duh.

whilst all the fics on here deserve their own kdrama, i feel this one would ruin me completely. it’s weightlifting fairy kim bok joo all over again. it’s potential is there. like, c’mon screenwriters. i know you want to. or just pay me to do it.

the characters, the yearning, the friendship - immediately gets flashbacks… - ten’s across the board!

@awrkive is one to look out for. for real. i - along with everyone else here - will be tuning in. full volume.

oh yea, whilst we’re all still here. fuck that other guy. you know who you are! (no spoilers here).

( ♛ ) LET’S GET QUIZZICAL — by @taleasnewastime

!! jimin x f!reader | 28.6k !!

friends to lovers, angst, smut (18+).

sooooo… what i’m hearing is.. we all weren’t aware flo rida’s stage name is just florida with a space..? right? right.? cuz when you say it like that..

having been a victim of multiple pub quizzes in my past (haven’t won - yet!) the dialogue in this story was fucking perfect and scary real, depicting the anxiety, thrill and pure adrenaline running through your body as you rack your brain of every dumb fact you’ve ever read and hope it’s made a home somewhere up there.

not to mention you gotta trust your teammates like your life depends on it - cuz it fuckin’ does. n park jimin being one of them? the rest of the teams… y’all better not even bother showing up atp.

i thought the manor of the story being told through its settings was.. a slice of genius. so so cool and helped set the tone too. every time we transported back to the quiz i clutched my pearls in sheer relief.

also, i wish i could’ve highlighted angst in bold cause damn! you really hit us round the head with that one. and ofc i loved it, but damn. take notes, shakespeare. we don’t have to be killing characters off to ruin mk’s life. hm?

nothing less than spectacular from our @taleasnewastime.

( ♬ ) TRICKS OF THE TRADE — by @stutterfly

!! yoongi x reader | 24.1k !!

body swap!au, soulmates!au (you know me), smut (18+), humour.

peers down through speckled glasses, what’s next..? …oh god. sighs heavily and licks pen.

so i knew from the moment i read ‘body swap’ within the tags that this concept was gonna be so fuckin’ weird but so damn good. and low n behold, it didn’t disappoint. luckily i am a lover of fuckin’ weird.

this concept is so difficult to write. the foreign sensation of a different body and trying to channel each thought n emotions involved is complicated to convey, but this author did it so incredibly well.

also, not to be that person… but that smut… i’m gon’ be sleeping soooo well tonight let’s just say that lmfao. 100/10. might go back n read it when i’m done with this.

blushing… X

shakespeare couldn’t even fathom a story such as this - and we’re talking about the guy who once wrote about an incestuous relationship between a king and his daughter.

crazy work. you are so cool @stutterfly.

( ✎ ) TRIVIA LOVE — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x reader | 5.4k !!

non idol!au, smut (18+).

to quote myself from my reblog on feb 26 2020, “why was i smiling the whole way throughout this??” n you know what? hell yea i still stand by that!

this is the second pub quiz fic i have within this chapter (surprisingly, but not disappointing), but the circumstances cannot be more different.

the first group i would join, perhaps even rally with a little. but if i’m ever attending a pub night and these mother fuckers are in tow, best believe i’m leaving. they’re not ones to fuck with yo. they have $20 to win. they mean war.

since we’re at the end, and i’m 100% convinced nobody is still reading these, soooo… i can speak my truth. someone get me on joon’s lap. you gon’ be calling me cinderella cuz it’s gonna fit perfectly by midnight bro. on the dot.

this is - n will always be - a classic to me. one that i will always return to eventually. i can dress up all i want with these big fics, but these smaller ones are always a guilty pleasure.

like cinderella returning to her mice friends (or whatever), i will always come back to @luxekook and their stories.

forever xoxo.

MARKNEE’S SPECIAL MENTIONS:

caught my attention, and deserve their flowers.

( ♬ ) THE DEVIL SKATES ON THIN ICE — by @vankoya

!! yoongi x reader | 60.5k !!

winter sports!au, fluff, angst, humour.

my love life also skates on thin ice. lmfao. especially after this.

( ✎ ) KNOCKED — by @sailoryooons

!! streamer!seokjin x f!reader | 10.6k !!

roommates to lovers, smut (18+), humour.

more like she’s about to knock him out.

( ♬ ) NEFARIOUS — by @yoonia

!! jimin x f!reader | 39.2k !!

sex club!au, gentlemen club!au, smut (18+).

lets out a long sigh. won’t be in a rush to forget this one.

( ✎ ) THINGS WE DON’T SAY — by @wintaerbaer

!! taehyung x reader | 54.5k !!

best friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut.

the found family trope is strooong.

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…