#kangakoo

I mean just talking to him on the phone on Live is bad enough. Our boy got his Flirty JeiKei Voice on. And the blushes and sighs I can’t….

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

Because apparently our Jungkookie is not a bunny. He’s evolved into Sexy Kangaroo Who Likes Getting His Jungboobies Slapped. I’m just calling that kink “Kangakoo” from now on, we been seeing it since Run in the purple fits.

I mean I really don’t know what else they can do. Gods, bringing that closet door down must be a whole new gay world for the Jeon-Parks. Happy birthday, Jimin.

there is no pressure to join my patreon, but if you are interested, here are some previews of what's available on there. under the cut is a preview of: 🤍 choose your own adventure... "extinct" 🤍 angel/devil (untitled) 🤍 match (wip title: kangakoo) 🤍 bodyguard (untitled)

choose your own adventure... "extinct" The air is cold when you step outside at ten p.m., your feet hurting after many long hours spent on them. When the next paycheck comes, you know you should spend a portion on a better pair, even if shoe-shopping is last on your list of fun ways to spend money. At least when it comes to these types of shoes.

Besides the jingling as you lock the veterinary clinic’s front doors and then drop the keys into your bag, it’s silent. Your place of work is fairly central, but the nearby buildings are mostly tall office ones where everyone’s gone home hours ago. The town’s bars are a few streets away, so while this part isn’t desolate, you rarely run into more than a couple people on your closing nights.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You turn, locking eyes with a man. He’s approaching, an apologetic look on his 40-something-year old face. 

“Yes?” you answer, always prepared.

“Are you a veterinarian?”

“I am,” you nod, “But we’re closed for the night. If it’s an emergency, I can give you the number to the nearest open clinic?”

The man, dressed in black—a jacket, cargo pants and… military boots—looks around, as if contemplating.

“There’s not enough time—I need help now.”

You wonder how urgent it really is. After all, you don’t see any animals, and while you’re not sure where exactly he came from, you don’t see any cars parked close. Most pet owners showing up with a critical animal park their car right outside the entrance. It’s never a pretty parking job; sometimes they even leave a door open as they rush inside, begging you to save their companion.

“I’m sorry, sir. Everyone’s gone home already; there’s nothing I can do to help here.”

“You can. If you just come with me, I can show you. He’s going to die otherwise.”

You bite your lip, breathing in through your nose. You want to help, but there’s not a lot you can do at the moment; your hands are pretty much tied.

“What type of animal is it and what’s wrong with it? There’s an open clinic only a few minutes from here, fully staffed, and they take all sorts of animals.”

“He’s an… exotic,” the man says, causing you to frown. “Just… follow me and take a look at him, please.”

The man starts backing away, and although you know never to follow a strange man alone at night, you take a hesitant step after him.

“I’m not an exotic specialist, though. I treat mostly small animals like… dogs, cats, and rodents. I’m sure they can help you over at—”

“—You’re the only chance he has.”

What kind of animal can it really be? Surely, he doesn’t have a car parked around the closest corner with a tiger in it, right? And for someone who’s obviously in a rush to get help, he doesn’t seem very… affected? Like—again—most pet owners, when rushing their beloved family members in, are crying or otherwise stressed. This man… he’s not stressed. Not like pet owners.

He looks at you again, seeing your contemplation and questioning you. “You’re gonna let him die?”

A chilly breeze brushes against your face, this October feeling very cold already. The wind brings a few sounds, including something that sounds a lot like footsteps. Listening closely, your gaze drops. Something dark drips from beneath the man’s sleeve, beading at his fingertip before it drops to the pavement.

Choice 1

Do you… 🤍 Agree to help... 🤍 Stay back...

angel/devil (untitled)

“An angel?” a low voice suddenly muses from inches behind you, its owner’s breath stirring your hair. “What brings you here?”

Startled, you turn, only to see the devil himself, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

“I think you know why, sir,” you answer politely, watching as he rounds you.

You’ve never met him, and as far as you know, the contact between the devil and the… upper levels has been minimal for quite some time. You’ve heard things about him, but you’ve never met anyone (reliable) who’s met him.

What you have heard about him, however, includes how handsome he is. Tempting, even. And that’s definitely correct. He’s dark-haired, tall, and dressed in all black as he backs up toward his throne, still watching you. The black expensive-looking dress shirt is fitted perfectly, accentuating his thick, muscular arms and the impressive build of his chest. At the same time, he’s got a surprisingly slender waist.

“Like what you see?” he asks, as your eyes travel down his just as black pants and clearly muscular thighs. 

When you lift your eyes, however, you see that he’s clearly checking you out too, your white, partly sheer dress a real rarity down here, you assume. 

“Let him go,” you instruct softly, not letting his words get to you. “Do that and we’ll be out of your way.”

“No,” he smiles, for some reason having changed his mind about taking the throne and instead taking step after slow step toward you again.

You see it in his dark, sultry eyes, and you feel it—no, you smell it—in the air.

“That doesn’t affect me, you know that. I’m a pure being.”

He comes to stand before you, looking down at you as if trying to figure you out is his favorite hobby. “Exactly how pure are you? I guess I can try to make you… un-pure?”

“Pure as in you can’t influence me with your lust pheromones. So, will you let him go?”

“No.”

“Please?”

He tilts his head, surprised but still smirking. “I have never heard an angel say ‘please.’”

“Some of us are rather nice, you know. Most of us, actually. Being respectful increases your chances of success, I find.”

“Hm. I like it.” He licks his lips, his gaze dipping down to your mouth. “What do I get in return?”

“In return? Why not just be nice?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You find his eyes. “What do you want then?”

“Hmm,” he hums again, looking away as he considers. “What if I say ‘you?’”

match (wip title: kangakoo) "I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.

"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."

You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.

"And now he's sick?"

"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"

"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."

"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived closed by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."

You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.

"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"

"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.

Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.

"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."

If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.

"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.

"What? Now?" you stand up quickly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.

"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."

You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things and follow the tall man outside.

Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.

He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.

He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.

"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you.

bodyguard (untitled)

“I just arrived, and you’re already using me to entertain your guests?”

For some reason, your father seems to think that having his daughter around helps lighten the mood with his guests. It’s... a little unsettling, especially considering they’re mostly men, and often much older than you. Sadly, it’s nothing new, but you’d at least hoped for a bit more time before being paraded around again.

“Yes, and I don’t wanna hear any complaints,” he says sternly, leaving no room for arguments.

“Fine,” you relent. “I’ll be there for a few hours.”

“Good,” he replies, his eyes still focused on his phone, clearly dismissing your words that implied you had a choice. “I’ve assigned you a new bodyguard since Park left. His name is Jeon; I hired him about two years ago, straight from the military. Solid work ethic, no trouble following orders, and doesn’t mind not having set hours. I think it’ll be a good fit.”

---

It’s just before six when you reach the staircase and spot your father speaking with two men. Their black suits and the discreet earpieces, visible even from behind if you know what to look for, tell you they’re part of the security team. You immediately recognize Jim, but the other must be the new guy, you assume. They seem to be discussing something important, almost secretive, standing close together and keeping their voices down.

“There she is,” your father smiles as he notices you, motioning for you to come closer. 

You do, meeting the eyes of the men who turn to greet you. Jim bows politely, and so does the other man. Jeon. His black suit stretches over his impressive build, and while his physique certainly is eye-catching, it’s his face that really grabs your attention.

He’s striking. Like incredibly so. Looks to be around your age, which is refreshing; most people around here are older. He’s also quiet and… stoic, but there’s something almost… gentle about him that you like. He doesn’t smile when he greets you, a habit very common among men employed by your father and currently in his presence. Jeon’s features are sharp and masculine, with dark, almost black eyes that seem to take everything in. Yeah, there’s… definitely something about him.

You find your father’s increased need for security a bit excessive, but you can’t deny the fact that Jeon feels safe. Capable, at least. He’s for sure got plenty of muscle underneath that suit, and if he’s straight from the military, you imagine he’s got a lot of useful skills as well.