#ot7xreader

Clearing his throat, Hoseok carefully takes another sheet. His shoulders are stiff, there is an ache in his lower back, and he craves the kick of caffeine so badly he starts to hallucinate it on the tip of his tongue. His eyes scan over the paper, double-checking the paragraphs on it as he reaches for a binder, neatly placing the document into a plastic wallet before rolling his chair towards a shelf, stashing the papers away, and rolling back to his desk.

“If only they brought her in sooner, we could’ve actually done something more—”

“It’s not your fault, Doctor,” Hoseok rasps out, “She’s lucky enough to have been sent here at all.”

His thoughts repeatedly drift to their newest patient. He feels the guilt building up in his chest, he feels the sorrow tugging at his heart and he has to rapidly blink the tears away before they can blur his vision again. Scars piled upon scars, bruises decorated her from head to toe, her hair knotted into clumps where blood had dried. He’d seen many awful cases in his two short years at the clinic, but this—this was entirely different.

Absentmindedly, he rubs over the scratch on his arm, hissing at the slight burn of it.

It took hours just to get her to calm down before they could sedate her and treat her injuries.

Shaking his head, his gaze lands on the doctor, who for what was probably the fifteenth time in the span of twenty minutes, sighs again. He watches his mentor, noticing how his face seems to have aged a couple of years as the lights dull his features, dragging shadows across tired skin.

Dr Jones sighs, again, and begins to reach for his bag.

“Where are you going?” Hoseok’s voice carries a note of suspicion as he watches the man pack his belongings.

His mentor simply nods towards the clock, before focusing on stuffing his laptop into an already half full bag.

“Oh-” Hoseok blinks, twirling a pen in his hand. “I didn’t realise it was this late already.”

Dr Jones’ eyebrows scrunch together as his lips stretch into a thin line, “We’ve had a busy day – you should get going too, Jeong.”

“I suppose you’re right, sir.” He sighs out, reaching for his own belongings. Not that he had many in the first place – a crappy government-issued laptop and three pens, to be exact.

Like clockwork, Hoseok slung his bag over his shoulders, stepped out and watched as Dr Jones busily switched the irritating lights off and closed the office door. A short but melodic beep sounded out, indicating that the door wouldn’t open without their keycards. But more importantly, indicating the end of another long and gruelling day.

“What are your plans for tonight then?” He asked as they began walking down the hall, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched.

Dr Jones shrugged, groaning as he rolled his head back. “I think I’m gonna finish up the paperwork, then annoy the missus a bit. You?”

The hybrid copied his mentor’s action, hissing at the stiffness in his joints. “Not sure. I’ll probably finish watching my show.”

“You still haven’t finished it?”

He shook his head with a smile.

“Seriously?” Dr Jones laughed, “I guess you’ll have to binge it tonight then. I don’t want you doing any more work tonight, Hoseok.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. After today, I feel like I need a week to recover.”

As the two approached the ward, Hoseok slowed his steps. Even now, the fox hybrid was on his mind.

“You’re thinking again,” Dr Jones points out.

Shaking his head, Hoseok tries to rid his mind of her, if even at least for a moment. It’ll take time for her to wake up, let alone recover – going to check up on her would be pointless. Yet the memory of her scars and bruises keeps flooding his mind, like a poison that won’t go away no matter how many antidotes he takes.

“It’s nothing.” He finally mutters.

The doctor continues to watch his student, the two stood in the middle of the hallway. He briefly glances at the long stretch of windows behind him, eyes immediately finding the resting fox. Tight straps keep her bound to the crappy hospital bed, clearly intended to prevent anymore accidents.

It has only been a couple of hours since she’d arrived, but Hoseok already seemed to be deeply affected by her.

“You know,” He starts, “You can always go in and sit beside her, talk to her.” Hoseok opens his mouth, a retort dying on his tongue, “Maybe familiarising yourself with her will… Help.”

The two stand in a tense silence, their sights hovering on the unconscious, bruised hybrid.

The whir of machinery and soft murmurs of background conversations fill the space between them. In the moment, it’s hard to differentiate between all the different sounds, as each footstep, each huff and breath, each beat of the heart monitor seems to attack Hoseok’s senses.

The golden retriever briefly glances at his mentor, ignoring the concerned look in his eye, and clears his throat, “Fine, fine, I’ll go to her. See if anything’s changed since last time.”

Dr Jones says nothing, simply nodding, waiting for the hybrid to take the first step.

When he does no such thing, the man rolls his eyes.

“A’ight. I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect an update on that show of yours – what was it called again?”

“Dexter.” Hoseok muses.

“Yeah, that. Binge it, relax, and update me on it tomorrow.” The doctor pats Hoseok’s shoulder, his hand heavy with a comforting warmth. “And get home safe, ‘kay?”

“Yessir.” Hoseok does a mock salute, watching Dr Jones’ figure until it disappears behind the front doors, becoming one with the darkness outside. His smile fades as he turns back towards the glass, towards the girl. A small scowl grows on his face. For two years now, he’s been treating abused and abandoned hybrids. For two years, he’s felt this hole in his chest slowly grow, day by day, patient after patient. Were all humans truly this cruel? Was Dr Jones just a one off?

He shakes his head, as if doing so would remove his thoughts entirely, but he knows better. And so, he begins a slow pace towards the front door, secretly looking forward to his binging session and the tub of chocolate ice cream that eagerly awaits him at home. But one thought lingers in his mind…

She’s just like any other patient.

--------

“Come on Taehyung! Let Hobi-hyung do his job!” Jimin’s voice called out as he pulled on the tiger hybrid’s waist, using every ounce of strength within him to pull the younger male through the door.

“But what if something happens?!” Taehyung breathes out through his struggle, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the doorframe tightens. There was no way he was leaving – not now, not ever. He grunted as he pulled himself further into the room, the bed where the human rested just a couple of steps away.

Hoseok had been working diligently on keeping the human warm and comfortable, fiddling with a suture kit as the younger hybrids argued, but even he — the epitome of patience — was growing weary. A small furrow crackled between his brows, watching as her skin grew paler and her breaths shallower with every minute. His concern and discomfort grew and tugged at his chest the longer he sat around, suture kit spun uselessly in his hands.

“She’ll be fine! Hobi-hyung is taking care of her!” Jimin exclaimed, voice strained and muscles working overtime as Taehyung continued resisting. It was only a matter of time before the tiger would slip out of his grasp, rushing back over to that damned human—

As the two continued their struggle against one another, a shadow slowly grew over their faces. Accompanied by faint steps, the room grew silent.

It was when Taehyung had finally wrought his way out of Jimin’s hold that he noticed it. His blood burned against the confines of his veins, pumping dizzyingly fast until there was only one thing and one thing only which he could focus on – which was now fully blocked off by a solid wall of flesh and clothes.

Jimin gulped harshly, his grip on Taehyung easing as his eyes settled on the view before him. To see Hoseok annoyed was rare, but to see him pissed off? Now that was cause for concern. Taking a step back, the fox hybrid hoped to avoid the irritated gaze of his hyung.

“You need to go, Taehyung. I need to treat her arm,” His voice was strained as he loomed over the two, “And quite frankly, you grumbling and growling in my ear prevents me from being able to do just that.” He continued, jabbing a finger at Taehyung’s forehead.

Stepping away, Hoseok knew neither of the two would dare move another step. Slipping a pair of gloves on, his brows pulled taut, the latex smacking harshly against his skin as if to emphasise his point.

“B- But hyung—”

“No ifs, buts or maybes. Go sort yourself out. Take a shower. Change your clothes – you stink,” He added pointedly, scrunching his face in disgust, “Eat something. She’ll be all patched up by the time you’re back and then you can have her all to yourself.”

Hoseok continued to keep an eye on the younger hybrid, watching as the gears turned behind his eyes.

“He’s right, Tae,” Jimin nodded, leaning over his friend’s shoulder. “You could risk infecting her with whatever germs you picked up in the woods. Hyung needs a calm, sterile environment.”

Taehyung remained motionless, his pupils blown wide in the dimly lit room. He knew they were right, and yet something kept telling him – no, insisting – to stay. It was a feeling. A feeling that burrowed deep in his chest, gradually clawing its way out, setting his impulses free and clouding his better judgement.

But his thinking was rational – surely – he had every right to want to watch the process, to be by her side, to make sure she’s okay. It was his fault that she got hurt in the first place. So wouldn’t it be cruel for him to leave her alone? Wouldn’t it be cruel to leave her vulnerable?  

Everyone knew of Hoseok’s aversion to humans. He never bothered to hide it. What if he… Did something to her? What if he decided he would hurt her? As some sort of revenge against humanity?

“She’s perfectly safe here, Tae. Hobi-hyung knows what he’s doing—"

“As a matter of fact, it isn’t safe. He hates humans.” He spat out.  

The retriever hybrid took a step back, as if the words themselves had a physical impact on him.

“Everyone knows this. He’s never bothered to hide it, so how can I be sure she’s safe?” Taehyung continued, sounding stern, his voice growing deeper with every word.

An old, familiar warmth ran through Hoseok’s veins. His heartbeat grew louder, pounding mercilessly against his eardrums, but having little effect against the tiger’s words.

“What does he do when he sees or even hears the mention of humans? He throws a face and walks off.” Taehyung was right. He had a valid reason for wanting to stay, surely his hyung couldn’t argue against that— “He snarls like they’re the dirt under his shoe, like they have personally hurt him. Killed his loved ones—"

“Taehyung!”

“Don’t talk so confidently on shit you’ve got no idea about.” Hoseok spat out. Something ugly coiled in his gut as he stared at his gloved hands, brows pulled taut. “Just because I don’t bend over backwards for her, it doesn’t mean I’ll fucking hurt her—” He paused, sucking in a deep, harsh breath through his teeth, “I’m a doctor, for fucks sake. I took an oath.” I promised him. “Whether she’s a hybrid or a human or a sea snail, I’ll treat her to the best of my ability. So now, get the hell out or I swear I’ll drag you by the—”

“W- We get it, hyung. C- Come on Tae—”

The tiger hybrid seemed almost pliant under Jimin’s hands as they dragged him out. Whatever fight there was that’d burned in his body, it had all been snuffed out by Hoseok’s momentary cold-snap. Neither of the hybrids had even heard him speak like this before, yet alone swear—

As the door swung open, Taehyung took one last glance at the human, majority of her figure hidden by an angry golden retriever of a hybrid. Jimin’s hands eagerly dragged him out, desperate to escape whatever wrath the tiger had unwrapped.

“H- Hey, what are you—” Jimin’s voice fell short as he looked at his friend.

“Hyung, let me stay with her when you’re done,” Taehyung spoke, his pupils blown wide as he pleaded with his elder. “I want to make sure she’ll be okay—"

The door shut with a earache-inducing slam. On one side, Hoseok stood motionless, chest rapidly heaving up and down as he listened to the tigers’ pleas from the other side.

“You can come back when I’m done.”

As the pairs of footsteps grew distant, he was left to stew in his scalding state.

Hoseok had known the tiger for years – much longer than he knew Dr Jones – yet the man had never managed to hit a nerve in him like this before. Sure, he avoided any mention of humans like the plague – but to accuse him of intending to hurt one?

Taehyung had crossed a line, and all three of them knew it.

The two would have to talk things out, but as of the current state of things, Hoseok had to school his expression, shove his fermenting frustrations deep down, and focus.

His expression soured as he turned to look at her – asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing in his home.

He’d rather be anywhere but here, in such close proximity.

Even after all these years, the stench of human blood made him sick.

--------

The ward was silent. Not the kind of peaceful silence you find in an office or the blissful quiet of a sunny afternoon paired with an iced coffee. It was the kind of quiet that had your stomach knotting in different spots, it was the kind of quiet where others around you could hear even the brief swallowing of pooling spit in your mouth, the kind of quiet that made you want to be swallowed up by the panelled floor beneath your feet.

Hoseok had barely stepped foot into the room, but his patient was already all over him – wide eyed, a big grin stretching across her face the moment his reddish-brown hair broke the reigning white of the room.

“You came back!” She exclaimed, earning irritated glances from multiple other occupants. As usual, she ignored them, opting to silently wait for Hoseok to approach her side whilst her tail swished back and forth.

The smile he wanted to return barely made a crack across his face. He could feel the muscles twitch in exertion, and for a moment he wanted to simply stop. To not respond. To walk right out of that room and never return. But he had to. He promised.

“Of course I’m back. Where else would I go?” He asked, feigning amused annoyance as he rounded her bed, checking her vitals.

The fox gave a small shrug of her shoulders, eyes narrowing as she observed his every move. “Where were you last night?”

Hoseok gritted his teeth. Not in anger, but in silent prevention.

“Oh, I had the evening off.”

“What did you do?”

Prepared for a funeral. “Just the usual – made dinner, watched Dexter. I also went through some documents.” He didn’t want to go in depth. He feared that his true emotions would come to the surface, at which point he’d have little control over anything that would happen there on after.

The fox girl – fuck, he needed to stop calling her that – Rita nodded, though he could tell she didn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth. After all, she didn’t survive up ‘till now on honesty and naivety. Still, Rita remained silent, observing.

“What about you?” Hoseok finally asked, bringing a chair towards the side of her bed – the side on which her bandaged and stitched arm rested.

“Oh, just the usual,” She was mocking him. He could tell by that playful look in her eye – too bad he wasn’t in a joking mood. “Took a short walk around the clinic, ate shitty hospital food, watched the news.”

The retriever hummed, indicating that he was listening, even as he worked on silently unwrapping her arm.

“And how’s the arm been? Any soreness or pain?”

“Not more than the typical dose.” Again, he hummed.

Did he feel like a complete asshole over the fact that he wanted nothing more than to just get up and leave? Totally. Rita trusted him. She relied on him to help make her feel better again. And he could see that she was getting better every day – slowly but surely. But he had bigger problems on his mind now.

“When will Dr Jones come to see me? He’s been gone since I’ve arrived.”

He knew this question would come eventually. It did so every day since Rita woke up. He should’ve been prepared.

“I- I don’t know.” He tried to keep it short, simple, normal. That’s what his mentor would’ve wanted.

Rita continued to observe how he worked. Her eyes held many questions, but she knew better than to bombard her doctor with questions. Hoseok would’ve probably run away the moment she said that she knew.

That she knew Dr Jones was dead.

“Well, tell him I’ll be waiting.”

“Y- Yeah, I will.”

-----

With practiced ease, he wiped down her arm, removing lingering blood before he turned to his suture kit, finally propping it open.

She’s just like any other patient, Hoseok.

Gripping the needle with his forceps, the remaining hybrid felt his throat tighten.

He brought it through the skin, a frown settling on his face as he noticed her expression shifting. Pulling the needle through, he lifted it, using the forceps to lift the skin on the opposite side before reinserting the tiny blade.

Bleeds just like any other patient.

Carefully, he twisted his wrist, bringing the needle through more skin until it resurfaced.

See? Her skin is the same as a hybrid’s. It rips and it bleeds, and you stitch it back together. Just like anybody else’s.

He then stretched the thread out, before twisting it around the holder and then, finally, created a knot.

The surgeon continued to work in silence, focused on the way the sharp instrument cut through the first layer of skin before tethering the separated flesh.

Just like anybody else’s.

Repeating the process, he eventually eased into its familiarity, his breathing evening out until there was nothing but his body and mind working in fluid cooperation.

In the short time they knew each other, Hoseok had learned more under Dr Jones’ watchful eye than he did in the five years he’d spent at university. He couldn’t say that the doctor impressed a young, bright and hopeful Hoseok at first, but as time went on, he began to appreciate his mentor a little more.

“There’s still so much left for you to learn”, Dr Jones had said back then, the smoke from his cigarette wafting directly into his face. He scrunched his nose, fanning at the air until the grey cloud dispersed.

To be honest, during that first meeting he doubted Dr Jones was even a doctor. Why was he out in the back, smoking when so many hybrids were waiting for him to help?

The needle seemed to become a part of him, flowing through skin with practiced ease until inch by inch, the wound began to disappear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dr Jones’ voice rung out in the small ward. Every eye in the room snapped in his direction – that is, apart from Hoseok’s. The intern cursed under his shaky breath, the needle in his hand only inches from stabbing into the patient’s arm.

“With how you’re shaking, your patient is gonna bleed out on the hospital floor before you’ve even tied the first knot,” His voice echoed, stern and unimpressed as Hoseok struggled to grip the needle, sweat beading at his temple as his patient winced and groaned.

“Take a deep breath, you’ve done this before haven’t you?”

“Only on fake skin, s- sir.” His voice came out quiet, embarrassed as the doctor stood, watching.

“Keep going.”

Hoseok’s head snapped in the direction behind him, eyes wide and startled.

“B- But—"

“No but’s. You’ve started this, so you have to finish it,” He paused, smiling reassuringly at the young patient. “Take a deep breath. You’ve done this before.”

The door clicked open as he finished tying the final knot.

Words struggled to escape his throat as Taehyung entered, so he opted to remain silent. He watched as the lines around her eyes began to fade, he watched the colour return to her face. Something akin to relief bloomed in his chest – he hated it.

Working to distract himself, Hoseok tied a gauze around her bicep. He ignored the tiger hybrid as he rounded the bed, hesitantly taking the human’s hand into his own.

A flicker of a grimace before Hoseok sighs, moving away to pack his tools. He could finally get away from her. From her scent. From her helplessness. From her calm. His nose twitched in disgust the deeper he inhaled. His heart rattled harder. The storm in his mind only grew in chaos.

He couldn’t wait to go and finally relax after a long day of working his ass off. He couldn’t wait to go and forget, for at least a couple of hours.

“So… You’ve fixed her arm?” Taehyung’s voice came out nonchalantly. It was almost too much and the retriever knew his friend was feigning it.

Hoseok nodded, organising his kit. He worked hard to keep his focus on the task at hand, refusing to acknowledge the soft relaxed breaths that had her chest rising and falling  

“You’re not staying here the whole night, are you?” He asked, voice strained, his usual hearty smile pulled taut into a fine line. Crows’ feet tugged at the corners of his eyes, which expertly averted the sleeping woman before him. 

The tiger glanced up at him, strands of wet hair curling across his forehead.

“I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re saying you don’t trust my medical skills?” He asked, attempting a joke even as something ugly, something spiteful and sour coiled in his gut. He almost couldn’t believe that the tiger had the gall to doubt his abilities.

Of course the human’s fine. She’s sleeping and breathing perfectly fine. Can’t he tell?

“No, hyung, I just—” Taehyung paused, his head drooping low, finally showing a smidge of the tigers’ real emotions, “It’s my fault she’s in this state. I— I just want her to be okay.”

“She’s fine,” He started, “Her arm should heal relatively quick, so long as she doesn’t move it erratically.”

Taehyung nodded quickly. Relief washed over him, and he thanked his lucky stars to have Hoseok around. It was rare that his hyung had to use his skills outside of his work, to the point that Taehyung almost forgot how sharp his skillset was.  

“Wake me up if anything happens.” The hybrid muttered, deciding that he’d had enough of it. Of everything. He headed groggily towards the door, fist clenched tight around the handle of the suture kit.

“H- Hyung?”

“Yeah?” Hoseok asks, one hand resting on the doorknob, the other just barely tightening around his toolkit.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispers, fingers toying with the human’s limp ones. “For what I said earlier. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“It’s fine.”

Neither hybrid spoke another word. They let the air between them relax, allowed the words to sink in, allowed the small reconciliation to take place.

“Goodnight hyung.” Taehyung finally mutters, watching as his hyungs’ shoulders grew relaxed.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

As he closed the door, Hoseok’s shoulders drooped lower. Having a human so close after so many years had brought back unexpected memories, ones he had unknowingly suppressed.

Heading downstairs, the murmurs of a distant conversation caught his attention. It continued, even as his steps grew louder, closer.

“She can’t stay here,” Namjoon’s voice was sturdy, confident even as he was met with resistance. “You clearly didn’t think this through, you didn’t think about what would happen to you, to us, if you brought her here.”

The kitchen was illuminated by a warm, orange glow. His ears pressed flat against his hair, the lightbulb above casting shadows down his face as the polar bear stared down the youngest hybrid. Jeongguk chewed at his lower lip, resembling more of a prey animal in the presence of their so-called ‘leader’.

“Hyung, i- it’s not like that—”

“It isn’t? Because so far, you still haven’t considered the consequences. I know you’ve met her before, but that’s in the past. That meeting? It took place in an entirely different world.” He paused, rubbing his face, a deep sigh escaping through his nostrils. “Do you have any idea of what happens to hybrids that harbour a human?”

Jeongguk paused, his gaze locked onto Namjoon’s. His bottom lip grew puffy. Hoseok winced as in a split second the younger hybrid bit down hard, drawing blood.

“They’re arrested, and the human is killed. Or worse, sent into one of those facilities.” Yoongi chimed in from his spot on the sofa, his voice soft, barely distinguishable from the noise coming from the tv.

Namjoon allowed the words to seep in, his gaze finally switching to Hoseok, who’d stalked over to the sink. The dog hybrid said nothing, pulling out the needle he’d used earlier. He was going to wash it, hoping to conceal some of the stench the human left behind before he threw the needle away.

“H- How is she?” Jeongguk cautiously looked up, watching as his hyung turned the tap on.

He shrugged his shoulders, scrubbing at the metal. “She’s all stitched up. Just needs to rest up.” The last thing he wanted was to talk about her.

“And how’s Taehyung?”

The elder paused. He hadn’t expected that. He resumed his scrubbing, biting at the inside of his cheek. Should I tell them?

“He’s fine. Tired but clean.”

Jeongguk hummed in response, before turning back to Namjoon.

“Hyung, I know we can’t keep her, but I can’t let her go back. At least, not there. The entire police force is looking for her.”

He watched as the leader sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m sure if we drop her off in the middle of nowhere, she’ll do just fine. I mean, she survived out in the wild somehow.” Hoseok spoke, bringing the needle to his nose. Her scent seemed to have disappeared.

“W- What? No. We can’t do that either—” Jeongguk exclaimed, before Hoseok interrupted him, holding the needle close to his own nose.

“Sniff it.”

Jeongguk complied, scrunching his eyebrows. “What are you doing, hyung?”

“Can you smell anything?”

“No?”

“Yoongi-hyung, sniff this.” Hoseok walked away, ignoring the youngest’s question.

“No, I can’t smell the human on the needle.” Yoongi confirmed before the hybrid could even reach him.

Namjoon cleared his throat.

“Let’s talk about this when she’s awake,” He paused, watching as Hoseok walked back to the suture kit. His sight moved back over to the panther, who was nervously licking at the fresh cut on his lip, “Let her decide.”

-------

As the night grew colder, the rain had eased into a gentle pitter-patter against the window. Taehyung shifted and turned, his ears twitching at your every soft sigh.

The blankets Jin had brought earlier were too warm and too heavy.

Deep down, hidden somewhere in the pits of his stomach, a dizzying feeling bubbled. He hadn’t put a name to it yet – he didn’t want to. This feeling, this emotion, it lurked like a shadow. Peered over his shoulder, snuck into the darkness of his subconscious through cracks of exhaustion and bewilderment. Like a disease. It was slowly taking control, and he knew it wouldn’t take long until his brain would turn into a befuddled puddle.

He fought to resist it. He wanted to resist it.

But he couldn’t help but falter, as with every breath she took, an unfamiliar — yet comfortable — warmth spread through his chest. It buzzed through his blood, leaving tingling trails of pure, hot excitement all over his body. He wanted to give in so bad.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not because of Jeongguk, or even his hyungs.

It just wasn’t right.

Hybrids and humans did not mix. That hatred for humans, the electrifying need for them to be punished, eradicated, it was the unspoken law. It didn’t pass as presidential speeches or flyers proudly presented everywhere. It didn’t even have a name in daily conversation. Small talk. It had no place in schools or at work or at social gatherings, no. It sat, unseen and unheard, yet always lurking in the darkest corners of everyone’s minds. Like the steady ticking of a clock. It was persistent, yet silent, fading into the back of his mind until his entire body flowed in rhythm with it.

Humans were supposed to be gone.

So, what the hell was he doing, resisting his most raw, most dangerous instincts as this human slept blissfully unaware beside him?

tags <3

In more recent years they jokingly called him their muscle bunny, because, well, he’d gone and gotten buff. He made a big deal about not being the little shy baby bun he once was anymore, and they respected him changing and discovering himself as an adult buck.

 But, deep down, Jungkook knew all they had to do was squeeze him into a hug when he was feeling down or rub a certain spot behind his ears, and he’d melt. Times like this worked too. It was a reassurance that he was still loved, even if he put his colony through it with his distance since Gramps died. 

Jin could easily check on the cookies, even while he did six other things, because he was an amazing multitasker. If he couldn’t, Taehyung, who was currently salivating too close to Jin’s pan—which earned him a maybe not-entirely-accidental elbow to the forehead—could. But it was Jin’s way of including him. The heat that hit him in the face when he opened the oven was nothing compared to the glowing warmth he held for his hyung, his whole family. 

“They look ready, hyung.”

“Good, you can take them out.” Jin had his wide back to him, distracted as he turned the heat down on the meal and fended off the impatient dog hybrid at his side. 

It was a small job, but Jungkook still grabbed an oven mitt and did it carefully. The aroma of Jin’s ginger cookies filled his nose, causing him to discreetly lean a little closer to get a good whiff. He was sure his tail did twitch in anticipation this time, just a little. 

“It’s done?” Taehyung was hanging over Jin’s back, being his normal clingy self. “Should I call the—”

“Lunch time?” Jimin’s tinkling voice made them all turn around, his shock of blue hair visible as he popped his head into the kitchen. “Ooh is that dakgalbi?”

“Mhm, I helped!” Jin didn’t dispute Taehyung’s eager chirp verbally, but the long side eye he gave the golden was loud enough.

“I’ll tell everybody,” The avian hybrid was already pulling out his phone, thumbs flying across his keypad as he likely informed the house group chat. It was more handy than someone might think to have one, even if they saw each other every day. 

It was at times the only way to get ahold of everyone when they were split up on different parts of the farm, or when they would go out shopping and inevitably all wander away from Gramps, he would shake his head and use the chat to tell them to get their butts back before they got left.

But it didn’t take long today. Apparently everyone had worked up an appetite. They came stampeding down the stairs or indoors, beelining to the kitchen in a way Jungkook knew was going to annoy Jin.

“Were you raised in a barn?!” He cried, right on time. Yep, called it. 

“The wilderness, actually.” Yoongi pulled one of his mittens off with his teeth and shook the snow from his hair as if to prove his point. Hoseok giggled, probably finding the snarky comment all the funnier since it applied to him too.

The both of them had spent more years in the household being raised by Gramps than they had out in the wild, but there was a certain animalistic sharpness to their movements and behavior that came out from time to time, a clue that they weren’t born domesticated. 

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable eating out on the porch then.” Jin retorted, accepting the plates Taehyung had retrieved for him. “This food’s only for the civilized ones.”

“Fine by me.” The lion shrugged. “Hell, I’ll shift down and eat in my fur while I’m at it. You’re not the only one who finds the cold refreshing.”

Jin only rolled his eyes, ignoring Yoongi calling his bluff. “Sit down before I change my mind.” he grumbled.

Seeming pleased with himself, Yoongi winked at them when Jin’s back was turned, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands after stuffing his mittens in his pocket.

“This is nice,” Hoseok remarked, smiling wide after they were all seated and the food began to get passed around. “I missed sharing meals like this.” 

“Me too, hyung,” Taehyung wiggled around in his spot impatiently as he waited for the dish he wanted. Jungkook watched as it was almost handed off to him by Jimin, who smirked, passing it the other way when the dog hybrid groaned in frustration. “You did that on purpose.” He accused.

“Who, me?” Anyone who didn’t know them and couldn’t see Jimin’s wings would have a very hard time determining who was the dog when he made such a perfect pair of puppy dog eyes. “Anyway, is that all you’re eating Jungkookie? You should have some more.”

Jungkook looked down at his own plate. Compared to his usual, well, his previous intake before he startled nibbling his meals for lack of appetite, it was pretty light. 

“Want help?” Taehyung asked, already reaching for his plate from across the table. Usually Jin might scold for something like that, since it required reaching over other people’s meals, but he said nothing as his plate was passed and loaded up with a generous helping of lunch.

 His hyungs all worked to pass it back to him like the well-oiled parts of a machine, totally in sync, and it was yet another thing that made Jungkook want to hide a touched smile. They all wanted to take care of him, and they did it in a way that didn’t feel smothering. When he got his plate back, the rabbit hybrid picked up his chopsticks and ate his first bite reverently. The company and love of his family made the flavors richer, and before he knew it, someone was telling him not to eat so fast.

“There’s plenty more where that came from, Kook.” Yoongi said. 

Jungkook paused, ‘coming up for air’ as Hoseok put it when he was inhaling his food. All the patient faces he was surrounded by were trained on him, looking so subtly proud and content. 

The bunny dropped his head, not wanting them to see the way it was making his eyes water. Something bittersweet brushed against his heart and made it ache. 

Probably knowing every meal would be like this, Gramps would be absent from here on out, his chair remaining empty. They still had each other, and in time it might even be okay again, but their family looked different, and nothing could change that.

He trudged away from the house with his hands in his coat pockets, boots crunching through the powdery snow. A flake touched the fur of his ear and Jungkook stopped, the appendage flickering involuntarily at the sensitivity it caused. 

Jin stood on the porch, watching him, looking like the twelve feet between them was as wide as a canyon. He knew. Jungkook knew his hyung wanted to fuss over him.

 It was a total change of pace since Gramps died for him to want to go on walks. As a baby bunny he’d been active once he settled in, running all over the farm grounds with the rest of them. 

As he got older he helped with some of the more intensive labor-laden chores, which helped build up his impressive physique. Nothing toned muscle like an honest day of farm work. 

“I’ll be fine, hyung.” Jungkook appreciated the concern, but this was something he had to conquer at some point. If he didn’t get past this…if he didn’t face what he’d been hiding from…he’d be stuck forever.

“I’ll have some cocoa ready when you come back inside.” Jin promised, smiling sweetly. Jungkook waved, watching him turn to go back into the house, only to have to shoo his curious fellow maknaes away from the door. His keen hearing picked up Taehyung whining about something before it shut.

Sighing, Jungkook took a few more steps, lifting his nose up to the sky and watching more snow drift down from the gray heavens. An overcast winter day, huh? It was kind of similar to that time…

The rabbit glanced down at his feet, at the prints they made, thinking back to when he had walked around the farm hand in hand with Gramps. When he had first come home, his footprints had been tiny compared to the man’s adult-sized ones and he had never seen snow. He had never seen much of anything, really, except the lonely metal cage and concrete walls of his prison. 

The small hybrid’s swollen eyes blinked open, the creak of the cage door signaling his worst fear. Morning again. That meant the Coats were back, reaching into their ‘homes’ and dragging them out by the scruffs of their necks, carrying them off to the cold, terrifying room where they did their experiments. It had been the same thing, every day, going on for so long it was hard to keep track.

It would have been hard anyway, since he was so young, but the way time blurred together here made it harder. “Alright, I only need one of you today.” The human rumbled, his gloved hand reaching in and grabbing another kit by the neck. 

She squealed, but fell limp obediently as he hauled her away. Shivering, he curled deeper under the newspaper they had been using for a blanket, frightened eyes darting around to the three other bunnies left with him, squeezed in the far back corner of their cage all piled up. None of them dared to breathe, let alone move, until the door slammed shut again. 

“Sun Hee…” her sister Mi Cha squeaked sadly. He watched one of the other male kits groom her ears in an attempt to provide comfort. They were all at the mercy of the humans, all of them there for the same reason. To help, they were told. And the best way for them to do that was to be good, obedient little bunnies and cooperate. 

It wasn’t that they had much choice. Even as hybrids, the humans overpowered them easily. They were just scrawny little children, and after the series of tests they regularly endured most of them barely had the energy to pick their heads up to nibble the pellets they were given, let alone fight back. 

He had done that only once, and only because he was startled when he was grabbed up so roughly. Biting was his first defense, and his baby bunny teeth hadn’t done much damage anyway. But that didn’t matter.

He made the scientist angry, and he paid for it when he was taken back to a testing room, some of his fur shaved and water that made him scream in pain dripped into his eyes, which they held open. Later, he learned the term for it from one of the older kits—chemical testing.

He went on to explain to the younger hybrids like him their “true” purpose for being there that the humans would never tell them. They were testing subjects, bought to be used in a lab. 

Humans liked wearing something they called “makeup”. They didn’t have fluffy fur, so they shaved theirs off to rub products onto their bare skin and see if it hurt the hybrids. If it didn’t, they would do it on themselves. Each of them had been picked out to spend their lives there, “helping” humans make better makeup.

The news rattled around in his brain, but he barely processed it. He guessed that sounded close to right. There was something deep down in his distant memory, a time where had not been here with his fellow kits, but somewhere else. 

The bunny was pretty sure that was where he had come from, maybe even where he was born. It was where the two adult hybrids who were his parents lived. When he tried to think back, it wasn’t a clear picture anymore, sometimes just a feeling, sometimes hazy shapes and colors from an old memory.

He couldn’t even remember their faces anymore. But he knew the day he was taken away, a lady’s voice that must have been his mama cried and begged for them not to take her baby boy, her youngest kit. Arms held him so close, but stronger arms ripped him out of the safety they provided anyway. Everything was a blur. Everything about them was gone now. Only their smells stayed with him. 

Sometimes in the dead of night while he twitched around restlessly in his sleep, their scents almost came to him, as if they were really there. But when he opened his eyes, the room where they all slept was always quiet, dark and lonely, the whimpers of hybrids occasionally piercing the night. 

There were no adult hybrids kept with them in their room, so no one to protect them, or teach them things. They taught each other and comforted each other the best they could. And when the morning came they all braced for the possibility of being picked next. Sometimes, he felt like the humans had a target. Other times it felt random, like there was no reason to it at all. 

Either way it ended the same, one or more of them taken for testing, spending all day subjected to one cruel test after the next, until the scientists were satisfied and they were brought back to their cages to writhe on the cold metal in the aftershocks of pain. 

The kits who had not been tested on for that day would come and cuddle the spent, exhausted bodies of the kits who had. He had been pressed into the middle of the pile, panting, his blood burning and what little he had in his stomach matted into his fur after he couldn’t keep it in. He had also been on the outside of the pile, using his tiny body to share meager warmth with a crying kit who needed it. 

That was going to be his life, forever and ever, or at least until the humans came to take him for a final time like some of the kits before him who never came back. That was until the morning new scents and new voices came into the room, humans in uniforms he didn’t recognize. They were unknown, and that made them scary. Just like they would when it was the white coats floating toward them, the kits huddled up to make themselves smaller. 

A woman drifted closer, stopping in front of the cage with a strangled gasp. Through all the fur and limbs in his way, he could sort of see her through the tiny crack of space. Her eyes were shiny. His sensitive little nose smelled saltiness in the air. She was…she was crying.

“Found some more,” she whispered into a metal box raised to her lips. The Coats used those to talk to each other sometimes. Walkie-talkies. That’s what the smart older kit said they were called. “They’re young…” 

The cage door slid open with much less force than they were used to. Normally it seemed like the Coats would rip it off the hinges to get to the kits if they had to. But her hand hovered near the entrance, just laying there, no attempts to pull them all out. He, like the others, caught her scent. 

It was…different than the way the Coats smelled—which was cold and harsh, like the chemicals used to hurt them—it was…clean and nice.

 “Hi, hello,” she smiled a little, another gesture they weren’t used to from humans. The integrity of the pile was tested as some of the kits nervously started to squirm. “It’s alright. I’m here to help. It’s alright.”

He had always been curious, underneath all the fear and caution that kept them alive. If he could hop around, poking his head into nooks and crannies, sniffing around to explore the unknown, if it was a different place, a safer place…maybe he would.

It was a far off memory, but the little black kit could almost remember the touch of sunlight on his face instead of the artificial lamps shining on them.

 He could almost remember the grass. When his paws found purchase on the soiled newspaper underneath them, he began to slowly squeeze his way out, ears bent against the urgent squeals of horror that called him back to the pretend safety of their pile. 

Cautiously, he half hopped forward, pausing as he looked down at her fingers. Stretching his neck, the kit sniffed only getting that same clean, nice scent from before.

And that was when the curiosity he never got to express took over, his mouth gently nibbling the digits stretched out in front of him. The human made a quiet sound, not aggressive or angry, not dangerous. Creeping into her palm, he felt fingers curl gently around his stomach, pulling him up, close to her chest.

“Good baby,” she cooed. “Brave baby.” A finger caressed the top of his ear, and he flinched. But it didn’t do much more than that. A soft, friendly caress that turned into a scratch at the base. Although he couldn’t remember the last time he did it, his foot thumped when she scratched an itch he didn’t even know about. 

That was the beginning of everything changing. He was lowered into a crate, dark and full of warm, soft blankets. Snuggling down, he didn’t have to wait long before the other kits were placed inside one by one. 

He scrambled to peer out of the slats in the side as they moved, gently swaying in the woman’s secure hold. There was a flurry of motion out there, lots of humans, some he recognized as the Coats being walked out with their hands behind their backs. More and more cages being emptied as hybrids just like him were rescued.

“…can’t believe this happened right under our noses…”

“…illegal, new low.”

“…weren’t even trying to look into…”

“They’re just babies…look…” The crate was lifted, and another face he had never seen peeked in. This time, he moved back, his back pressing into the others cowering in the farthest part from the door. “I don’t know how much they understand. I don’t know if they’ve ever had the opportunity to shift. What if they don’t…don’t even know they’re hybrids?”

“What are they? Three or four year olds?” The second voice, a man’s, sounded unsure, gruff. He smelled smoky, not as nice as the other scent. “Once we get them safe, they’ll have all the time in the world to learn.”

To think, back then he didn’t even have a name. The scientists had only ever referred to him as the number he had come with, assigned to him in the breeding facility where he was born.

In the end, over one hundred and sixty other rabbit hybrids got rescued and taken into custody along with him. Gramps was a wealthy concerned citizen who had heard about the raid before it even broke national news. It paid to have connections in the task force that prosecuted hybrid abuse related crimes. 

The bunnies were still being processed when his savior showed up. Not that Jungkook knew it. To the bunny, he was just a bizarrely dressed human who peered down at him with concern as a task force officer cleaned his stained fur and tried to feed him strained baby food after they guesstimated his age.

Though apparently there had been more of them than they anticipated, and there was concern about how the youngest and most fragile of them would adjust to a shelter environment, even if it was a safe one. Foster care was preferred for the kits, it was decided, and Gramps had stumbled across a group of university students protesting the cosmetic company’s hybrid cruelty outside one of the stores that sold their products. He’d taken a flyer, somehow found out about the case, and wasted no time coming down and inserting himself in the situation. 

That was how he would eventually save them all and form their little family. A small bunny, young and behind on his developmental milestones, there was plenty about the situation that went over his head. It was so much to process at once, leaving him feeling vulnerable and overstimulated. But he remembered Gramps’ scent, his leathery hand reaching down to stroke him gently between the ears, and his soft, encouraging whispers. “You were just a tiny thing that left such a big impression.” Gramps had told him years later. “I knew I had to help you. I knew there was a hole you were meant to fill in our growing family.”

Jungkook paused, inhaling a deep lungful of crisp winter air and glancing over his shoulder. He’d gone a lot farther than he planned to just wandering, a bittersweet trip down memory lane. Gramps…there was truly nothing like him. So many people would have been frustrated or pushy or gotten overwhelmed with all his care and needs in those early years.

After all, being raised as a test subject didn’t make for the most socialized kid in the world. Looking back, he had more or less entered Gramps’ care as a blank slate, nothing of note about him besides being a malnourished hybrid from a bad situation. A creature to pity. No name, no voice…Jungkook had barely even had a personality.

His first day home was…something. Gramps whispered that the others would be gentle with him, carrying him through the door bundled in a blanket, still in hybrid form. Because the rescuers had been right—he didn’t know how to shift. 

The first four years of his life, kept heavily drugged and pumped full of harmful chemicals, it was a wonder he still could. Gramps wasted no time getting him set up with doctors, therapists, a whole support system. The best money could buy. “Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you’re a fighter.” Gramps had told him that first week. “I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. One day, you’ll feel it too.” 

Jungkook had internalized those words, working hard to live up to the faith his savior had in him. Out across the fields, he watched a few cows roaming the barren grounds, a mother keeping a close eye on her young calf. It was so similar to the way he had been with his hyungs and Gramps, the rabbit couldn’t help but move closer to the fencing, overcome with emotion. 

They had been there every step of the way, as he slowly gained strength and put on weight, and as exactly five months later, he shifted for the first time. One minute he was a tiny rabbit, being washed in the sink after getting into a mess in the berry patch, the next he was naked and covered in skin and his hyungs: Jin, Taehyung and Hoseok, were running around, screaming for joy. Gramps was all pride, presenting him with clothes in his size he already had prepared, because he knew. 

His faith that one day Jungkook would master his ability to shift had never wavered. It went on from there—he learned to walk upright, learned to talk, learned to sing. Jimin was thrilled to have someone to harmonize with, and it made their farm chores go by faster when they sang and danced to their silly songs. As it turned out, Jungkook could learn to do a lot of things. “My boy, multi-talented.” Gramps would say when his close friends commented on how far he had come. “If Jungkook was a color he’d be golden.”

Golden. Jungkook stared up at the weak rays of the winter sun. The snow wouldn’t melt, at least not for a couple more days. ‘He thought I was golden when every other human looked at me and thought I was something broken to throw away.’

There was no putting a price on that. The mercy and compassion of one man was the reason he got a second chance, his first real home, a whole new life.

Knowing that person was no longer around, that they would never talk together as father and son while they weeded the garden; or that Gramps would never find and comfort him in his secret fort in the attic, crying when his insecurities pushed him too far in his own head and he didn’t want to worry his hyungs…it made his temples throb, and his fingers dug into the fencing just for the extra support.

 The air got punched right out of his lungs, like he’d gone a few rounds in a prized fight and his opponent got the upper hand. Reeling, his eyes squeezed closed, vaguely aware his breathing was heavy. Slumping over, the bunny heard the first pitiful noise crawl its way from his throat, biting his lip hard to stop it. 

It only came out as a strangled whine. When was this supposed to go away…? The way he felt, like he was coping one minute and dangling from a cliff the next? His own mind was a maze and his emotions were a rollercoaster taking him from the steepest highs to plummeting lows, guilt swirling through his stomach. 

Gramps had shown signs. He’d been getting weaker. Jungkook could smell a faint change in his scent. Why hadn’t he pushed? Why hadn’t he brought it up to the hyungs? If they made him go to the doctor…if they made him take it slow…if they…if he were a better son—

His breath rasped from his lungs and he gave up trying to hold on, allowing his body to sink bonelessly against the fence, down in the cold snow. Somehow, it was refreshing, grounding enough that the warm flush across his face and the pounding inside his head was made bearable.

For a split second, Jungkook could swear he felt the familiar touch of a leathery hand, the ring always on the index and pinky fingers extra weight on his shoulder. Blinking, he scrubbed his face, ready to be brave and…and face no one. 

So now he was going crazy, too? 

“…Jungkook?”

“No,” he groaned, letting his forehead touch the fence. “I’m not doing this.”

“Kookie, what’re you doing?” The voice asked, very clear, very present, and very concerned. “I thought that was you, and I’ve been calling you for a while now. Did you just not hear me?” Yeah, there was no mistaking that scent.

Jungkook dragged big mouthfuls into his lungs, gulping down the comfort of having someone he trusted so close. Being caught in such a moment of weakness and vulnerability should have had him ducking away again, but he was tired of running from the people who loved him most.

Still, there was a certain amount of clinginess he just wasn’t comfortable with. “M’good, hyung.” He wasn’t, but that was his problem to deal with, not Jimin’s.

Without a word, the avian hybrid gracefully sat next to him in the snow, situating himself comfortably like they were about to do a sharing circle—sans a few more members.

Jungkook knew he had to look like a wreck, but Jimin blinked up at him patiently with those round, understanding eyes, leaning back on his hands as he crossed his legs. “You know that’s not how it works,” he said lightly. “Do that with strangers, not with me~”

“Can it be later?” He asked, weakly. “It’s hard to…it’s like he’s still…please not right now?” He would die. If Jimin pressed the issue and made him really spill his guts, dig into the painful, throbbing mass growing where all his unreleased love and anguish for Gramps was stored, Jungkook would stop existing. 

Ever the emotionally intuitive one, of course his sweet hyung picked up on that, blessing him with a loving smile.

 Leaning forward, Jimin grabbed the sides of his face between warm mittens, pulling Jungkook’s head close with firm surety. Holding his breath, the rabbit closed his eyes like he had so many times before. 

Cool lips pressed against an eyelid, then both eyelids. Across his cheeks, on his nose, down to his lips. They lingered there, stealing the heat away from him. Jimin always claimed he loved kissing him in the winter because his lips were always warm. When they pulled apart, though, Jimin’s skin wasn’t the only place that had thawed. “It can be any time.” From Jimin, that was a promise. “Tomorrow, next week, even in ten years. I’ve got you.”

Jungkook pulled the smaller hybrid into him, all but crushing their bodies together in a hug. “I know, hyung.” No matter how fractured his heart felt, now matter how scarily raw he was, they would glue him back together, just like every time he needed them before. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bone tired after a long day at work, and yet somehow she had still managed to take a detour. (Y/N) lifted her head up from where it almost fully rested against the top of the steering wheel, her gloved hands running absently back and forth across the leathered material.

 The car was still running, her half-glazed eyes staring up at the storefront she was parked in front of. The Babbling Book. A cozy family-owned bookshop she’d been meaning to check out a long time. 

And after mentioning to her coworker she was hoping to support small businesses more this season and looking for her next cozy winter read, he had pointed her in the direction of this place on the hybrid side of town.

Apparently they actually had a wider selection than what was kept in the bigger, chain bookstore down on mainstreet, and (Y/N) could believe it. Mom and pop stores didn’t have to cater to corporate interests. They were free to stock whatever their heart desired.

 Cutting the engine, (Y/N) dabbed at her nose to make sure it wasn’t running, climbing out of her car. It really was a cute little store, a striped green awning hanging over the door, and a modest amount of snow and frost sprinkled there. The trim around the door was painted in the same friendly shade of green, and the light red brick it was set in gave it a nostalgic appeal. 

Rubbing her hands together for lack of something better to do with them, she carefully traveled the cleared walkway, hit in the face with a blast of warm air and a whiff of cinnamon and cardamom as soon as she opened the door. 

“Hi!” (Y/N) barely suppressed her yelp as a young girl slid down from a ladder, landing right in front of her with an energetic wave.  She couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, bundled in a long skirt, leggings and a puffy pink sweater, gold eyes wide as her bushy tail twitched. “Whoa,” she said, awed. “Are you a human?”

“Y-” (Y/N) looked around, where other customers had baskets on their arms and were quietly shopping. Most of them appeared to be hybrids. Everywhere around her she saw long, pointed ears, or various length tails. Did her coworker tell her wrong? Were humans even supposed to be in here? Blushing at the thought of possibly intruding, (Y/N) heard her voice come out in a self-conscious whisper, plucking her sleeve. “Yes?”

Eyes practically glowing, the fox girl opened her mouth wide. “Soo-ah!” Only for it to fall shut as a woman with a gorgeous silver fox tail and wearing an apron hurried over. “You know we don’t ask guests questions like that.” Soo-ah’s ears drooped a little at the tips.

“Yes, eomma. Sorry miss…” Soo-ah bowed apologetically. 

“Everyone is welcomed here,” the woman assured (Y/N), plucking up and offering her a basket. “Please come in and browse, stay as long as you like.”

The adult hybrid ushered her daughter away by the shoulders, but not before Soo-ah threw her a wave. (Y/N) laughed under her breath, waving back and deeply inhaling the scent of paper and warm cinnamon. Although it wasn’t the largest bookstore she had ever been in, the displays around the shop already had several titles that caught her eye, and the shelves were stacked high.

(Y/N) almost didn’t know where to begin, and if she were a hybrid her tail would no doubt be wagging eagerly. Tracing her finger along the spine of a book in the mystery section, she carefully removed it from the shelf, studying the cover and then flipping it over to read the synopsis. There weren’t many books sold in her area of the city where hybrids featured as the protagonists.

Often, they were depicted as pets or sidekicks or god forbid, villains. So the thought of a calico cat hybrid being the lead detective in a murder mystery slash thriller already sounded interesting, and she placed it in her basket. It wasn’t hard to lose track of time, all the new books at her fingertips, each its own adventure. (Y/N) had hardly looked up since sinking into a chair near the fantasy section, thumbing through the pile she was considering, until a thud from nearby drew her attention.

‘That kind of sounded like someone fell over…’

Concerned, (Y/N) set the book down and hurried toward the source of the noise, finding a massive pile of books had indeed overturned, a pair of legs sticking out from under them. “Hang on!” She gasped, bending to pick up as many as she could, the pile starting to wiggle as the poor person underneath slowly sat up.

(Y/N) was so preoccupied with getting the books off them, hearing the sound of her own name almost made her drop them all again. “(Y/N)-ssi…?”

Astoundingly, she realized she knew the owner, one slightly dazed and very confused wolfdog hybrid meeting her eyes as she looked up. “N-Namjoon-ssi?!”

Swallowing, he climbed to his feet, brushing the front of his comfortable-looking gray pullover and then leaning down to offer her a hand. “What are the odds of running into each other here? Here, that was my fault. Let me.”

Before she could even tell him she had it handled, he was plucking the books up to tuck under his arm and using the other hand to help her up. (Y/N) held her breath a little, not wanting to look like she was swooning at the way he easily pulled her to her feet. Still, it was gentlemanly, and running into him was a pleasant surprise.

“Do you come here often?” She could have smacked herself as soon as it was out of her mouth. It sounded so much like a cheesy pick-up line. And yes, Namjoon was a very handsome man, his healthy tanned skin bringing out the sparkle in his dragon eyes. But given that she had only just gotten to know some of his family, the idea of actually making a pass felt absurd. Surely, he had his eye on someone else anyway.

“It feels like at least once a week.” He grinned, starting to place some of the books on the shelf.

“More like twice.” The fox woman hummed as she hurried by with a cart of books. 

(Y/N) smiled as she started to help Namjoon collect what was left on the carpet. “Sounds like they know you pretty well around here.”

“You could say I’m a regular customer,” He shrugged, looking both pleased and bashful. “I really like a good book, and I go through them pretty fast. Every time I put one down I end up right back here for the next one.” Clearing his throat, he added, “I don’t always ruin Soon-Bok’s shop, though. I’m just a little more ‘light-footed’ when I’m excited, as Jin likes to say.”

The way one of his ears drooped a little was too cute, (Y/N) thought as she melted a little. Namjoon said it so earnestly and matter-of-fact, too. She couldn’t help but picture the elegant wolfdog form she had seen, bumbling around and skidding into things with big paws and a thumping tail. 

Trying to fight down the smile surfacing, (Y/N) looked him in the eyes. “It’s my first time here.” she explained. “And the selection’s so different from what I’m used to at the bookstore I usually go to. I can see why you love it. There’s so much more—”

“Literature by hybrid authors?” He guessed.

“That too.” (Y/N) had at least five books all written by hybrids in her basket, and even more to sort through. “I was going to say diversity, but in this case I guess that’s practically the same thing.”

“It’s nice.” Namjoon nodded, finished organizing the books he had knocked down. (Y/N) struggled to get one she was pretty sure had come from a high shelf above her head back where it belonged, until Namjoon held out his hand with a short laugh. “May I?”

Not too proud to concede defeat, she put the self-help book in his large hand and watched as he easily slotted it back where it belonged with minimal stretching. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t sort of envious. “Soo…you wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations, would you?” Namjoon turned to her, eyes widening. “Since you’re more familiar with the selection here.” Was that dumb? Was that pushy? She was rusty at the whole socializing thing. Probably one of the reasons she’d always struggled to make friends… “You don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“I want to…” Namjoon’s eyes grew soft, “I’d love to.” It took (Y/N) a few seconds to realize the sound of something chopping the air was his tail wagging at an impressive pace. “What are you interested in?”

“What’ve you been reading lately?” She asked, genuinely curious. Someone like Namjoon probably had a fascinating taste in books. 

“Contemporary philosophy,” he said immediately. “Um, but I’m also following a murder-mystery series, and I planned to try a book about spiritual cultivation through gardening, because I enjoyed the author’s other book about emotional regulation through music writing and…” Dipping his head, Namjoon paused.

“Why’d you stop?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Is it too much?” He glanced down, “I know sometimes when I start in about what I’m reading it can be a little hard to follow. Not because I don’t think you’re capable of keeping up intellectually,” he quickly clarified. “But I know I get lost in tangents sometimes…”

“There’s nothing wrong with showing how passionate you are about your interests.” (Y/N) laid a hand on his arm. “That just tells me it spoke to you on an emotional level, and maybe it’ll speak to me the same way.”

Namjoon’s dimples revealed themselves in a sudden, beautiful smile that left her reeling back internally. Talk about a hidden weapon. Yes, (Y/N) knew he was attractive. Everyone in his family was. But to be on the receiving end of that look did make her heart skip a beat. “If you’ve got time, I could show you where the book is…and there’s a reading nook in the back. It’s a pretty peaceful way to pass a day like this.”

The spot Namjoon led them to was exactly as comfortable as she had described, the kind of cozy that was made for reading on a rainy or snowy afternoon indoors. She plopped down into one of the leather bean bag chairs, and he took an armchair right across from it. 

The wolfdog gingerly passed her a copy of the book he had recommended, and (Y/N) studied the cover and read the blurb on the inside of the dust jacket. “Hmm oh yes, this is right up my alley. Definite purchase. Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.”

He nodded quietly, his eyes pleased. “Any time.” (Y/N) noticed him pull a book onto his lap, squinting as she caught some of the words on the cover but not quite able to make it out.

“What’s that about? Any good?” He stilled, stared at what he had in his hands wide-eyed, eliciting a bit of confusion from her. 

“I’m actually not sure yet.” Namjoon admitted. “It just…spoke to me. It’s by an author who explains how he learned to work through his grieving process by managing fish tanks, and what he took out of it. It’s a bit…nebulous based solely on the introduction, but I get it. All of us have been working through losing Gramps in different ways, and sometimes…the progression of it surprises you.”

(Y/N) found herself nodding along, listening silently as he spoke. “I feel the same way. The whole thing gives you so much whiplash, one minute you’re okay, the next minute something reminds you of them and you’re breaking down over a song or a smell…”

Namjoon ran long fingers over the glossy book cover, his smile soft but distant. It wasn’t a smile for her, not really. He was thinking back to a memory, recalling a time that passed with the bittersweet fondness only nostalgia could bring. “Everything is heightened when you’re a hybrid, especially when you have a canine nose. After…after he was gone…his smell was still everywhere. All of our smells are thick around the farm, but Gramps’ was like a phantom for a while. I’d catch his scent somewhere and forget he was…” When he swallowed, she tracked the movement of his adam’s apple. (Y/N) waited for him to finish, in case he had anything to add, but that seemed to be the extent of wanting to talk about it at the moment.

She turned over the book in her own hands absently, wanting him to know she could relate. “I lost my mom very suddenly as a little girl. And then I lost…my path. I still had my dad, but I felt so alone. I couldn’t understand how fate could be so cruel and she could just be gone. I dwelled on it for a long time, and it didn’t help that people wouldn’t let me forget I was broken. I heard the comments they thought they whispered.”

She sniffled, surprised at herself as her eyes burned a little. Usually, she didn’t cry over her mother anymore. She could talk about it without tears coming to her eyes. Usually. “Ah, well,” she cleared her throat. “Thanks again for the recs. I’m especially eager to read up on how this author’s thoughts on existentialism relate to how they tackle the grieving process.”

If Namjoon noticed the shine to her eyes, he was kind enough not to bring it up. He perked up. “I really think you’ll enjoy it, and if you do, maybe…I could recommend more books sometime?”

(Y/N) readily agreed, hoping he would do just that. “I’d really like that.” 

It was nice talking to Namjoon, needing out a little, enjoying conversation with a fellow bibliophile. The time slipped away way too quickly as they sat and talked, and when they both had made their purchases and got ready to go, it felt like saying goodbye after a nice day out with a friend. Is that…what they were? Is that what they could maybe become? Friends?

Namjoon held the door open for her as they walked out, and a part of (Y/N) swooned at how considerate it was. She sat for a while once she was back in her car, letting her hands rest on the steering wheel and waiting to warm up. Namjoon had thrown one long leg over his bike after securing his books in a basket, waving as he rode by. 

She slowly backed out of the parking space, careful to watch for anyone behind her, whether they were on two legs or four. ‘Hanging out with them…it’s kind of nice.’ It’d been a long time since it felt like she had a group who “got her”.

**TAGLIST IS CLOSED**:

Bile sat at the peak of your throat, the hammering of your heart threatening to push it out. Hoseok’s wide eyes on yours made your stomach knot so painfully tight you were sure it was moments away from rupture. It was evident that he was somewhat embarrassed, and at first while frantically trying to understand what the fuck was happening, you noticed. You wished you could take it back. Somehow convince your fritzing brain it saw wrong. But the evidence was so clear, just what the man had been doing in your room. 

“What happened?” 

The commotion around you sounded muffled. Like you were underwater having a conversation with someone on the edge of the pool. You must have screamed. You couldn’t remember doing it. The raw feeling in your throat could be explained if you had. Soothing hands rubbed at the bare skin of your shoulder, muted whispers tickling your ear. 

Who was talking to you? Their skin felt so cool against your surely clammy skin. It was a welcomed feeling. 

“Hoseok Hyung?”

The name seemed to echo for a second, the room quiet. And then it felt like a tsunami hit, the air forces from your lungs, a gasp of air so loud one would think you held your breath for hours. 

Hoseok was under your bed. Hoseok was staring at you, gripping white knuckles at a pair of your panties with his dick out. 

What the fuck. 

“Jimin, please take Y/n somewhere else.” Namjoon’s voice was eerily calm. The usual lighthearted tone was nowhere to be heard. His body was tense and tall, almost as if ready to pounce. 

Jimin had easily understood the urgency in his packmates' tone, and more than gladly ushered you off the floor. His packmates split aside like the Red Sea as he guided you out of the room, aching to pull you closer and hold your hand. But he knew better. 

The fox hybrid found you were compliant, letting him lead you wherever he wanted. If this had been any other situation he would have been thrilled. Happy to have you to himself, listening and obedient. If he was being honest, he was still rather happy, but it was dulled. At least he had you to himself for once. His pack was greedy, they didn’t understand that Jimin needed you more. You needed him more. 

Jimin had led you to his bedroom— well, shared bedroom. But it was empty as of now, so his. Personally, he would have preferred a room on the floor, his instincts wanting to be as low as possible but.. well, sometimes he just had to be thankful for what he had. Jimin had not minded sharing a room, not really. Not until you arrived and suddenly the space felt too small. How could he give you the perfect home, the perfect nest to raise children in, when the space was crowded? He had no privacy for his time with you. 

Once you realized how you and he are meant to be, he was sure things would change. You could both leave. The thought was slightly depressing. Leaving his pack would hurt. But that pain would be nothing compared to a life without his mate. It was an easy choice. An easy sacrifice. 

Seeing you in his room was a whole new feeling he wasn’t aware he was capable of making. You had been so awkward at first, standing limply by the closed door. He had thrown himself into his bed, sighing happily to be back in his own comfort. No strange smells, no looming anxiety, just contentment. He had watched as you took in the room, eyes flickering over every corner of the room before settling back on him. Jimin loved having your attention. It happened so rarely, and it would need to change. It was beginning to drive him insane. 

“Y/n, you should lie down, you look like you’re about to drop.” Jimin frowned, gently taking your fingers into his. 

You didn’t pull away. A grin threatened to bloom across the hybrid's lips, but he had to control himself. He didn’t need you to be upset with him either. You needed a friend, someone in this house you could feel comfortable with and clearly, his packmates were doing poorly. But not him. Perhaps all this distance between you and him hadn't been such a bad thing after all. He could make this all work in his favor. What a lucky fox indeed. 

Jimin’s room was technically the main master bedroom. The house had four bedrooms, and the study was a temporary room right now. The downstairs ‘master’ room Jay and Mila usually resided in was originally a guest suite, but seeing as there were more people than rooms, and the upstairs master was slightly bigger, it was divided up into three, tall makeshift shelving used as privacy walls. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin all shared the master room, Yoongi and Hoseok in the next, and then the youngest two, Taehyung and Jeongguk in the third. Usually, the other four shared a bathroom, and then Jimin and his roommates shared the ensuite, but unfortunately, it needed some fixing after Namjoon’s last rage fit. So now all seven of them were stuck in one bathroom. You were kind enough to share Jay’s ensuite downstairs with whoever needed it, your brother wasn’t as soft-hearted. 

The hardwood floors were scratched up from the rearranging of furniture, and the walls were painted a cool gray with white trimming, a neutral color to match three different men. You couldn’t see past Jimin’s section, his being the first. A double bed shoved in the corner, one bedside table covered with wrappers,  a laptop, and a tissue box. His bed was covered in pillows, blankets, and articles of clothing. Despite how messy it sounded, the cluttered bed was still somewhat neat. Almost as if every item was placed purposefully, carefully. A few shelves lined the walls, and manga was neatly lined in order. They looked so well cared for, you wondered if they had even been read. The space was clean, other than the half-unpacked suitcase on the floor and headphones dangling from the laptop. 

“Y/n?” Jimin was starting to feel antsy. He had watched you look over the entirety of his side of the room, and he felt anxious. Did you not like it? If he had planned for you to be in his room, he definitely would have cleaned up... And emptied the bin by his bed. 

Jimin could have sworn he melted when your eyes met his, a little smile on your lips. Sure, it was forced, but it was for him. You were trying to look okay, for him. 

Holding out his hand, he watched as you placed yours in his so softly, without hesitation. You weren’t scared of him at this moment, he truly had to thank Hoseok. Your hand was smooth in his, soft and warm. Did all of your skin feel this delicate? He could feel your heartbeat under his fingertips, your blood thundering through your veins. An involuntary shiver ran up his spine at the thought of your pretty skin bloody and bruised. 

With a soft tug, Jimin had you on the mattress with him. His nest would need fixing later, but for once he wasn’t bothered. Your fingers were still linked with his, and your eyes closed. Despite the tranquil look on your face, your chest raised rapidly. Jimin frowned. You weren’t as relaxed as he was. He knew why, but why? Sighing, he shifted to look at you better. You peeked through one eye. You looked so tired. It made his heart ache, he wants to look after you. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he was apologizing. He knew for a fact he hadn't done anything to you. He had been walking on eggshells since you arrived, wanting to keep you happy. Sure, he had maybe gotten a little clingy and touchy, but your presence was so intoxicating that he couldn’t help himself. He likes to think he held himself back rather well. Perhaps he was sorry on behalf of his pack. Moreso Jeongguk and Hoseok. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened with Jeongguk, and he felt a little guilty knowing that whatever had happened between the two of you, he could have been there to help had he not run off with Hoseok. 

But Hoseok. While he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, Jimin wasn’t an idiot. He could piece things together. He had seen enough to have a good inkling about what his packmate had been doing in your room– hell, he could smell it. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Jimin.” 

Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. 

The way you whispered his name was heavenly. Like you were telling him a secret. He loved when you spoke his name, it sent tingles through his nerves and sent his stomach spinning. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet. He knew he had nothing to really be sorry for, but it felt right to say and he had been right. You finally responded to him. 

Your breathing had eased, not quite as labored as minutes ago, but the grip you had on his hand had tightened. He wished Namjoon would have lowered his voice a little more so he could enjoy the sound of you breathing. He was jealous of your poor hearing quality at this moment– and honestly some others. It must be nice to live so unaware of everything around you. 

Namjoon wasn’t sure he had ever felt this angry before. The fearful expression you bore as Jimin all but dragged your paled form out of the room had nearly broken his heart. You hadn’t looked up from the floor, wide eyes glued to the floor as if trying to comprehend what was happening. He wished he had been the one leading you, comforting you. But of course, he couldn’t. Not when Jay had left him in charge of your care. He had a duty to you, and even if Jay hadn’t requested this of him, he still would do the same. The rest of his pack's feelings didn’t matter to him when it came to you. He was well aware that there were a few others that may have shared a similar sentiment toward you as he did, but he knew that what he felt was vastly different. You were the first human woman they had spent time with, it was excitement, lustful almost. Not for him. Your soul had been specifically created to mesh with his. A perfect match.

And they were driving you away. 

“Namjoon, maybe you should step away fo–” Seokjin’s words died on his tongue, the poisonous look his leader shot his way was more than enough. Instead, he sighed, pressing his tongue against the meat of his cheek in frustration. 

“Hoseok, get out from under there.” Namjoon barked, jaw so tense he was sure he could feel his teeth cracking. A dentist visit will be needed after tonight. 

Five sets of eyes watched as the snow leopard awkwardly shimmied out from under the bed, hands still white-knuckled around a piece of cloth. His head hung shamefully, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He was usually so careful. The look of disgust and fear had his stomach so tight he couldn’t breathe. 

The wolf hybrid stalked closer, leaving an inch between them. When Hoseok made no move to meet his leader's eyes, Namjoon felt his anger bubble over, the calming breaths he had been attempting to use were failing him. Hoseok had flinched when Namjoon had raised his hand, expecting a hit. Instead, nails dug into the elder's jaw, forcing him to meet his leader's eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Namjoon asked calmly. If Hoseok couldn’t see the man's face he wouldn’t have guessed he was angry. The pulse in his throat was rapid, and his teeth grinding painfully was what gave away the simmering anger. The hold on his jaw was beginning to ache, and his knees felt like jelly under all the accusing eyes. 

He knew he was wrong, of course, he was. But how could he explain himself? ‘Sorry Joonie, spending a rut alone and having my mate so damned close I just couldn’t control myself, my bad.’ 

Of course not. He was sure that would have him sporting a shiny black eye. 

“Joon, I’m so sorry–” 

“Bullshit!” Taehyung scoffed, the only prey in the room frustrated. “You and Jeongguk are fucking this all up, you’re ruining it!” 

Taehyung was sick of it. The perfect opportunity had been served to him on a golden platter. A pandemic that would force Jay to stay away longer, and you to stay with him. An indefinite period of time for him to court you. A love story he could tell his grandchildren. But then fucking Namjoon had ratted to Jay about the early ruts, for ‘safety’ reasons. Leaving Taehyung locked away from you for two goddamn weeks! And somehow in that little time, they had fucked up everything, sending him back to square one. He was sick of this. He just wanted his mate, and everyone here couldn’t seem to control themselves and were scaring you away. 

Seokjin rested a hand on the younger man's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. He pitied the boy. The younger three were still so clueless about love, he was sure the monkey had dreamed too big and was struggling to accept that you just weren’t quite there yet. The poor boy had most likely made a movie like a love story in his mind and found it frustrating that the plot didn't move as fast as he wanted. He was impatient and greedy. Perhaps it was his fault for giving him everything. 

Hoseok’s eyes couldn’t even flicker in Taehyung's direction. His eyes cemented Namjoon's. Too scared to even blink. The wolf looked ready to rip his throat out with his teeth. Nothing was stopping him from doing so either. He was sure the rest of his pack would just watch it happen. How depressing

Namjoon shoved the leopard away, Hoseok stumbling before hitting the floor. The pack leader turned back to the others, frustration oozing from every pore he had. “Clearly, some of us have forgotten how to respect boundaries.” He sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he took shuddering breaths. “Are you trying to run her away?” 

Namjoon watched the shake of heads; no. 

“Then why the fuck are you acting this way? Do you want Jay back?” He hissed. Their owner was able to return whenever they requested, Namjoon had asked him to stay with Mila’s family a bit longer, and his human was more than happy to comply. Honestly, Namjoon had a lot more control over his owner than he would ever admit. 

“You’re all to leave Y/n alone. She will seek you out if she wants to, but until then leave her be.” 

Seokjin found the rule to be a bit much, but he had no choice but to agree. Namjoon knew what was best, even if it felt unfair. At least in the rules he had set, they were allowed to speak with you during dinners, and greet you in passing, but they weren’t to seek you out. That was easy enough. Seokjin already knew your routine like the back of his hand. 

___

“Y/n… Y/n, wakey wakey~” 

You grunted at the gentle shaking, limply trying to brush the hand away.

“Aw come on sleepyhead, I really gotta pee.” 

Who even was that? Was someone in your room? When did you even fall asleep... In your room? Hoseok was in your room...

Your eyes flew open, greeted by the dark. You could roughly make out the layout of the room and it definitely wasn’t yours, this was far more lived in. Your pillow wasn’t this firm either. Your hand brushed over the material, frowning. It was much rougher than your pillowcase. Not silk at all. 

“You’re getting a little low there.” Jimin’s strained voice whined out.

Jimin. 

You jolted up, scrambling to the other side of the bed. Your face felt like it was on fire, how embarrassing. You were just feeling up the poor dude. 

“Oh my god– Jimin, Jimin I am so sorry!” You groaned, pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes willing yourself to go completely blind. You may not be able to see in the dark but you could still feel his eyes burning over you. 

Jimin had to bite his tongue, and stop himself from telling you just how much he enjoyed your hands on him. You had fallen asleep some time ago, wrapping yourself around his torso. Your pretty head resting so gently on his shoulder. It was his own piece of heaven. He spent hours playing with your hair, smelling it, kissing it. He smelt just like you. He had put off waking you up for as long as possible, wanting to soak the moment in, not knowing when he would ever have it again. But of course, his bladder had other ideas. 

Waking you up hadn’t gone to plan. Turns out you were an incredibly deep sleeper, the new information sparking excitement. He wondered how far he could go, what he could do before you would woke up. When you finally did open your eyes, you didn’t seem all there. Your eyes move across the darkened room. Your heartbeat had picked up slightly, panicked at the new surroundings. He had gone to speak, he really had. He was going to comfort you, and remind you where you were… but your hands. It was light at first, fingertips grazing over his clothed chest. Pressing, putting pressure. You hummed thoughtfully, and he felt his heart spasm in his chest. Palm down and trailing over his chest before sinking lower, lower, traveling downward. He knew his shirt had risen a little, you wiggled a lot in your sleep. Your pinky had just brushed over his bare skin, feather-light. Jimin had felt his throat close up, his joints locking him in place. 

Speak. Speak. Speak, Jimin. 

When he had finally managed to spit out words, your whole frame had frozen up before pushing him away. He grunted at the force, pouting. You looked incredibly flustered, and he couldn’t say he didn’t resemble you. He was incredibly thankful for the darkness of the room, the hard-on threatening to bust through his sweatpants would have sent Jimin to an early grave. 

Here lies Park Jimin

1995-2021

Beloved packmate. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbled, shuffling himself into a sitting position. He quickly pulled one of the many blankets of his nest and placed it over his lap before turning on the light on his bedside table. The pale light lit up the room enough for him to see your face clearly. He had rather good eyesight in the dark, but he preferred to see you with the lights on. 

“I was just surprised.” You defended, arms crossing over your chest. “You don’t scare me.” 

Jimin grinned, licking his lips.  The lovesick side of Jimin’s brain was preening. You weren’t scared of him, of course, you weren’t! He was here to protect you. You were his, and he yours. Life has specifically made your souls for each other. How could he hurt you? 

A side of Jimin that he would rather ignore was thrilled by your comment. You weren’t scared of him, but he could change it so easily. What fun it would be to have you terrified under him, how far could he push you? 

“I can be very scary.” Jimin teased, leaning closer. Your eyes rolled, making Jimin simper. “Do you want me to prove it to you?” 

You laughed softly, shaking your head at the challenging tone. Out of all of the men in the house, Jimin was probably who you felt safest with. Seokjin was a close second, but knowing what he was spliced with, you were apprehensive. Jimin reminded you of a kid, playful and cheeky. 

 “Sure Jimin, prove it.” 

The fox hybrid's body shivered in excitement, his tail swishing wildly behind him, a blurred movement. “You asked for it.” 

—-

“Really mom, it’s fine! I can make it up just fine.” 

Your mom just couldn’t let it be, as she kept trying to take bags of groceries from your hands to help you up the apartment stairs. For nearly a week now, the elevator has had tape across the front of it, and a sign saying out of order. Despite reassurances from the building manager, it had not been fixed in time for move in day. An unfortunate thing since there were several students now trying to move in for the semester. You had lost track of how many times you had to wait while a couch or mattress was blocking the path up or down the stairs. 

It had gotten to the point that you just camped out with a book and a snack while you waited for the all clear. Today though, you had decided to stock up your fridge, and your mom had offered to come along. That resulted in far more bags than you had anticipated, but you appreciated the help that she gave. It was the first time that she had sent a kid off to college, as you were her oldest. You expected all of the fuss, and part of your heart ached, knowing that she would be on the other side of the country tomorrow. No longer a quick trip away.

Together, the two of you trudged up to the third floor of your building, finally finding a compromise between the two of you for your groceries. The walk up was mostly quiet. The few words spoken were heavy with your mom’s impending departure.  Still new here, and unfamiliar with the feeling of your keys in your hands, you struggled at your door to find the right one while juggling your groceries. The door across from your place opened, and a young man stepped out, a polite ‘excuse me’ tumbling from his lips. 

He started to turn to leave down the way you came, but when he noticed you and your mother struggling, he reached for the groceries that you both held. 

“Please, let me help.”

“Oh, so sweet of you. Thank you!” Your mother, who had previously been so insistent in helping you, was quick to let your yet unnamed neighbor help. You shyly let him help you as well and you fumbled with your keys again, finally unlocking your door. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, as you awkwardly led this young stranger into your apartment to follow your mom to the kitchen. 

In the few seconds it took you to toe off your shoes and meet the pair in the kitchen, your mom was digging through her purse only to pull out a pack of sweets that she pushed into his hands.

He's got lovely hands, you thought to yourself. In that small window of time, you tried to memorize the details of that short scene before it was over.

“Uhhh… thanks.” He seemed a little confused, but his thanks was accompanied with a slight bow of his head, and he turned to leave your apartment. He glanced at you, and another slight bow, but he said nothing as he let himself out to go do whatever it was he was doing. 

“That was fucking weird.” 

You locked the door, looking through the peephole to see that the hallway was now empty.

“Sweetie! Don’t talk like that!”

“Don’t lead a random man into my apartment! It’s gonna be so awkward now.”

The nerves of being truly on your own, so far away from family, was starting to set in. The thought of needing someone, and not being able to call for help at a moment's notice, caused your chest to tighten, and you closed your eyes, breathing in deep and letting out a controlled breath. The tightness disappeared, but the nerves stayed. 

“Mama, I’m going to miss you.”

She met you halfway, engulfing you in a tight hug that felt like home. 

“Me too, baby. Me too. And you have some of your cousins out here, so if you need anything call them, okay?”

You had found that you had become weepy.

“I promise! And I’ll call you every week.” The first test of your boundaries. 

“No, every day. You call me and we will have coffee.” 

You groaned and finally broke your hug to rearrange some of the things on your countertop. “That’s too much. I will have so much homework. How about Wednesdays and Fridays?”

You thought quickly, and reached out to her. “That way we'll have some time to have things happen. That we can talk about.”

“Okay, Charlie. I think that’s fair.” Your mother held your hand tightly. She didn’t want to let go. And neither did you. It felt like something grand, and symbolic. Reaching over the small island of your kitchen out to her. A lifeline to a comfortable and familiar life while you tested the waters of adulthood. 

-----

You thought you knew, when you decided to pursue your art degree, that it would be easy for you. You had picked art before you had picked a school from the offers you got. You had easily the best portfolio of all the art students at your highschool, and already had several awards under your belt for the highschool shows. But you found that everyone in your classes thought the exact same as you. Everyone had come in being the best at their school, wherever they were from. And now, you were back on even ground, and already falling behind. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t capable. You were just so thrown off, being out here on your own, that you were struggling to keep sight of the things that were important to you. The things that would help you move forward. All that you could see now though, was that you were slowly sinking, and it terrified you. 

It was week two of classes, and the piles of homework, and the number of sketchbooks you had bought for yourself, in order to keep one for each class (why did your professors insist on this?) was way too many. But for your life drawing class, you were at least filling the pages with what you deemed to be good work. Skeletal and muscle studies, and hands. Lots and lots of hands. It was the one thing that you couldn’t get out of your mind. The scene of your mother handing your handsome neighbor some candy, in exchange for the small favor that he had done. 

You were in the middle of doing some quiet independent work in the studio, your headphones on so that you could focus. You were unused to the sound of other people shuffling around you, and in particular, your teacher standing behind you watching you work. You didn’t realize that the person next to you was trying to get your attention. You were too busy dragging charcoal across the page, capturing a movement that wasn’t there. After all, you were just drawing some bones. 

Something bounced off of the page in front of you and you looked down at the crumpled bit of paper towel. You pulled your headphones down around your neck and turned to look around. The guy at the easel next to you was staring hard at you, waiting for you to look at him. 

The frown that you had already plastered on your face disappeared, and you felt as if you had forgotten how to breathe. He was beautiful, and the way he looked at you intently with big eyes drew you in and you didn’t want to look away.

“Yeah?” Rather than your normal voice, it came out as a soft squeak. In response he grinned, his nose scrunching up cutely. 

“I like your work. Really good movement and lines.” Your classmate, who had yet to name himself, stood closer to you now, observing what you had been working on. The skeleton, quite literally, of two hands interacting. 

“Ah, thanks.” You sighed heavily, stretching your neck and rolling your shoulders. You had become so tense as you got caught up in the details. 

“I’m JK,” He offered out his fist to you, and you looked down at it, momentarily confused before you bumped your fist against his. His smile grew wider and his nose scrunched up again.

“Charlie. Nice to meet you.” 

The two of you chatting happily as you worked seemed to lift the serious mood in the class. More of the students were getting up, moving around to other stations and observing, making small talk or offering helpful comments. You spared a glance up at your professor, and saw him smile. Not really at anyone, but he seemed glad at the change in mood. 

As the class came to an end, and you were in the middle of packing up, your teacher got everyone's attention. 

“I just want you all to be prepared for next week's class. We will be getting into drawing from life, and we will be having a model in the class every day, unless otherwise stated on the syllabus.”

The chattering quieted down. You could see some of your classmates were a little nervous about it. You were too, honestly. But you had seen your fair share of nude, or nearly so, bodies growing up in South Florida. What’s another to add to the list? As you took in the news, and packed up, you spared a look at JK and saw the curl of his lips. A shy little smile. As if he knew something that you didn’t.

----------

There wasn’t much room for you to get caught up in what was coming in the next week in your art classes. For now, you were needing to focus hard on your core classes. The fact that you already had an exam in your Bio class looming on the horizon, and your English lit class had released a syllabus that had your heart beating rapidly. The amount of coffee you would need to make it through the semester kept growing in your mind. You even made it a point to check your supply of beans and consider whether you should just drink it straight or try to temper it with milk. 

As you neared the end of your bio lecture, your professor had strongly encouraged study groups. You hated working in a group, but only because people kept you accountable at that point. Already you heard a few people behind you talking about exchanging numbers. You twisted to look at the group. 

“Y’all mind if I get in on this?” You crossed your arms over the back of the chair, looking up at them. 

The three women looked over at you, their chattering dying down for a moment, before it came back full force. 

“Absolutely! I love your vibes…” The woman who had deep golden skin and her dark hair pulled up in a messy bun radiated an energy that had you buzzing with a strange feeling of excitement. She seemed to be searching her memory for your name. 

“Charlie,” you offered helpfully. 

“Liza. And this is Jenni, and Arden.”

Huh, it really was that easy to just reach out and make connections. Leave it to a bunch of women to immediately pull you into their group, though it seemed like they had only just met. 

With plans to meet up in one of the library study rooms, and all of their numbers saved, you went about the rest of your day. You only expected to get communication from them only about your shared class, but your phone was blowing up with notifications from all of them for the rest of the day, continuing on as if you all were sitting around having a chat over coffee. 

Over the short course of a couple of hours. You had found out that Jenni frequented the art building with you, though she was taking the route of education; Admirable in your eyes since it was a good high school teacher that had encouraged you to pursue your art. Arden was looking for a skating group, or someone to skate with her on the regular, that got your attention and you started planning for something this weekend. Liza was really into music, but you two really connected on the whole large hispanic family and the importance of food. Between the two of you, there was basically a whole meal planned and ready to go whenever you all decided to get together outside of class reasons. 

Though it still hurt, being so far away from your family, these three made you feel less lonely. You couldn’t help but blast your music when you got home that evening. As you danced around the counter of your kitchen, your mood sank slowly as you realized that it was really just you again. When you called your mom, the music was quiet, and you glared hard at the sponge clutched in your hand as you cleaned up after your cooking session. Your laptop angled so that you could talk as you worked. 

When your mom's face made an appearance on your screen, you felt the hot prick of tears in your eyes. 

“Hey, mama.” You tried so hard to plaster a smile on your face, to reassure her that you were good, but she saw right through it. She always did. 

“Hey baby, how was your day?” There was the rustle of fabric, and she tilted the camera towards your dad as well. Clearly fighting to stay awake, but was just coherent enough to mumble hellos and I love yous. 

“Good, actually. I mean, I already had a bio exam coming up, and I have so many essays coming up for one of my classes. It’s a lot.” 

More scrubbing at a stubborn splatter on the stovetop. You should have cleaned it when it was still fresh, but hindsight and all that.

“And what about you? How are you doing?” The soothing sound of your mother’s voice really did wonders to calm you. Your chest heaved with a deep sigh. 

“I’m okay. Just… focused. I haven't really had the chance to just hang out with people. It’s all about school.” You glanced at the clock blinking on your stove. 

“Mom, it's late. You should sleep.”

She yawned in response, and her voice was softer now, clearly tired. “Okay sweetheart. You sleep too. I love you so much.” 

Your dad muttered towards you as well, and you giggled. “Okay. I love you both! I miss you guys.”

By the time your laptop closed, the sting of tears pricked your eyes, and you sniffled hard, willing yourself not to cry. It had only been a month, and it had felt like an entire year almost. This was going to be tough without your family nearby. 

You hear the soft chime of your phone, and you check the messages. Your mom texted you encouraging words, and you smiled, feeling okay enough to brave the laundry room now. You grabbed your keys and laundry basket, and headed down the hall. 

The room wasn’t empty, as it had been earlier when you set the dryer. Your neighbor from across the hall was sitting on the table in the center of the room, scrolling through his phone and picking at the fruit sitting next to him. 

“Oh hey!” You tried to sound cheerier than you felt, but when he looked up at you, he could see past it. 

“You good?” His voice was deep, but the concern was obvious. You didn’t know the guy aside from him being your neighbor. You didn’t even know his name. 

“Oh yeah, I uh…” You were strangely compelled to tell everything to this stranger, but the awkwardness kept you from it. 

“Actually, I don’t think I caught your name. I know you helped me and my mom a while back.”

He set down his phone now, putting his attention on you. He regarded you carefully, before holding out an unpeeled tangerine to you. 

“Yoongi.”

You smiled taking the fruit from him, a strong feeling of deja vu as your fingertips brushed in the hand off. 

“Thanks. I’m Charlie. And I’m sorry for being so weird that day. I just didn’t expect anyone to want to help. Or even be okay with going into a strangers space.” You picked at the skin, peeling off pieces to get to the fruit within. 

“No problem. My mom would have smacked me if I didn’t.” He huffed a light chuckle as he looked down at his hands, now working the peel off his own tangerine carefully. 

“I take it your family isn’t close by, huh?” He talked softly without looking at you.

“Is it really that obvious?” The task of peeling fruit kept you from sinking into your emotions too much, but the tightness in your chest came back. 

“But yeah, they're in South Florida. My mom stayed with me for a week before heading back, so it’s been kinda tough, not having anyone out here.”

You finally got one of the slices free, and you popped it into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring it. 

“It will get easier, you know.” The buzzing of the dryer pulling him off the table, yours almost finished as well. But you still stayed standing, focusing on finishing your snack. 

“You’ll make friends, and those become your family here. So it’s all gonna work out.” 

You hummed at him, knowing what he said was true. It didn’t make it any easier right now. But you both stayed in silence, working on your respective tasks. By the time your own clothes were done, Yoongi was halfway done with folding the dark pile of clothing. You just tossed everything into the basket after you were sure that they were dry. 

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You adjusted the basket on your hip, looking at him. “For the tangerine, and for you wise words.” 

He smiled softly, and nodded. “Yah, not a problem. I’ll see you around.” 

You returned to the solitude of your own apartment, dropping the basket onto your bedroom floor and you flopped down onto the bed. You noticed your hands still smelled like fresh citrus and the warm cottony smell of your laundry detergent. It calmed you and your aching heart. But what was even more comforting was the sureness of Yoongi's words. It was the reminder that loneliness wouldn’t last. Especially if you made the effort.

You already had reached out to people. It was bold for you, but you had no other choice. Jenni, Arden and Liza seemed like good people, and their willingness to let you in reminded you of how easy it was to make friends when you were a kid. 

-----

With the weekend came a chance to breathe. You met in the late morning with your three new friends to work on some study guides for the impending exams. You chatted over a light brunch and iced coffees, exchanging jokes and cheeky jabs at each other, gauging where your humors lined up. 

“Shit, guys, I just remembered Monday is the first day we have a live model in my drawing class.” You laid your head down in your arms groaning a little bit. Jenni perked up at that. 

“Oh I forgot that’s happening! I’ve got the afternoon class, but we get our model on Monday too. I hope it's one of the dance majors.” She bit her bottom lip, seemingly daydreaming about the lithe bodies.

“I have no clue what to expect, to be honest. Like, Florida had all shapes and sizes of people so like, I’ve seen it all. But this feels weirdly intimate?” They all nodded in agreement, and you were relieved to feel like the nerves were okay. 

“What if they are really hot though?! What am I gonna do then? I have to sit and stare at them for three hours.” They erupted in laughter, and you had to join along with them.

Your face ached with how much you were smiling by the time you all called it quits, and went your separate ways. Well, you and Arden realized quickly that you lived in the same building, and honestly you were relieved. Now there were two people you were relatively comfortable around. Could you call Yoongi a friend? Maybe, but you didn’t know much about him past he too was living away from his family. Also you had the vague idea that he was at least a couple years older than you, but the man was a mystery past that. 

“Hey, did you want to check out that skate jam tomorrow? I think I texted you the info.” Arden pulled you out of your thoughts as you walked to the nearest bus stop to wait for your ride. 

“Actually, yeah. That would be really nice.” You got a little choked up, but composed yourself before she could catch on. “My mom and I used to go skating on Sundays, it was our thing for a while.” You recalled the shiny wood floors and the lights, and the loud music that filled your weekends.

“Oh if you don’t-” you were quick to cut Arden off. 

“I wanna! I’m just missing my mom is all.” You looked down at your feet, the toes of your sneakers scuffed up from years of wear. 

“I do too. You three make it easier though.” 

The relief you felt to know that you weren't alone in these feelings washed over you like a sudden wave. A laugh left you with a sudden breath. 

“Yeah, same. And my neighbor said that it gets easier. Like you make your family, or something like that.”

Although it wouldn’t have been that far to walk, you and Arden were thankful for the coolness in the bus, and you sat shoulder to shoulder, telling each other of your childhoods. Mostly centered around skating, but you also talked about what your plans were, now that you were living in Southern California. There seemed to be a never ending supply of entertainment. Though for now, while school was the biggest focus, your world was a little more limited. 

Your stop came up. A few people exited with you, settling down to wait for the next line to come by, but you and Arden trudged inside, the weight of your backpacks feeling almost oppressive now. You noticed the elevator was broken again. 

“Fuck, I think I only used that shit twice since getting here.” You two took the stairs slowly. By the third floor, where your stop was, your thighs were burning. 

“Tell me about it. Bonus though… every day is leg day,” 

You cackled, nodding. “As if I need bigger thighs. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You waved and parted in the doorway of the stairwell. 

“Oh! Sorry Yoongi!” You turned right into your neighbor, nearly colliding with him and the duffel bag he carried.

“No worries. No harm done.” As always, so talkative. You smiled and waved, he returned with a peace sign before the sound of his stomping down the stairs growing fainter. 

The rest of your afternoon was filled with more homework. If you wanted to laze about tomorrow, you wanted to do it without the looming anxiety of unfinished assignments. You settled in with music pouring from the speakers of your stereo, an eclectic mix of sounds, and at least three different languages that you sang along with as you leaned close to the surface of charcoal covered paper.

Taglist @sunshinerainbowsbts @miscelunaaa @codeinebelle @playmetheclassics​

You seem to be unaware of most things at the moment, like how you overlooked this handsome fellow in all the hours that you had spent in this class. 

He grabs your hand and places your old hard drive on your palm, the feeling of his hand suddenly on the forefront of your mind. You observe his actions, too engrossed or too tired to say or do anything but watch. 

“You should rest, Y/N. '' He said insincerely, like it was just something to point out and that was the only thing he could say to fill the awkward silence between your interaction. You missed the way his cheeks were pink as he tried to look unaffected by your previous words. 

You furrow your eyebrows, he knows your name and yet you don’t know his. It was no surprise that most of the people recognized you, so you were not alarmed but it was still irksome that everything was one sided like that. 

Just like he had read your mind he introduced himself, looking at you over his shoulder. 

“My name is Park Jimin.” 

“Jimin.” You breathe out his name though he won’t be able to hear it. Just saying his name brings you comfort, reminding you you were not alone anymore. 

Jimin was still far but hopefully you could get to him without any more surprises. Tell him everything that has transpired and take you far away from here. 

There were noises behind you, setting you in motion. You don’t have time to panic, all you need to do is head towards the beacon of light that was your ticket out of here. 

The view ahead was illuminated by the headlights and you could tell the gates were locked shut. It was obvious that the power had been cut off. 

“Jimin!” You screamed his name despite the hoarseness of your voice and the pain that comes along with it, hopefully he could hear you inside his car. You were almost there and you can see him stepping off his vehicle, his perfect silhouette assuring you that it was indeed him. 

“Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you but you weren’t picking up and why is your house so da-” He stopped mid sentence as he saw the state you were in. His eyes trailed down your face, seeing your cheeks stained with dried tears then to your neck, you bet the bruises were forming. 

Jimin’s face morphed into the one you saw earlier and he wasted no time trying to pry the gates open.

Jimin the gates are locked.

You wanted to say but they opened at his touch and your heart  jumped at the screech the gate made. 

You gasped, halting, as you watched it open for you. A beat had passed before you realized the lights were back on, Jimin’s hair color more prominent. 

The thought of all the bypassed android jumping out of nowhere, grabbing the box you tried to protect and killing both of you, invaded your thoughts. It was enough to set you in motion. 

Jimin wasted no time to reach you and grabbed your hand as he pulled you towards him as gently as possible. He quickly got you inside the vehicle, his steps quick as he rounded the car and stepped inside. The car beeped, locking the doors and soon after the vehicle was moving and in the distance, your house fades away. 

No other words coming out from him after he saw you. 

With just one look your best friend already knew you were in danger. 

“Ji-”

“Don’t talk. Don’t strain yourself,” He pressed on, ''You can tell me once we heal that.” He glances briefly, his gaze zeroed on your neck before averting it towards your lap, your hands that are caging the box. 

You nod, biting your lip as you let the tears fall, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. 

“You should rest Y/N,” Somehow his words brought you deja vu but this time it held warmth and sincerity, “You’re safe with me.” 

If you weren’t too exhausted, you would’ve cried but instead you listened to him and closed your eyes. The events are catching up to you, adrenaline finally leaving your body now that you know you're safe. 

You failed to see the look on Jimin’s face as he stared at the box you were holding. The way his jaw clenched and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he willed himself not to grab it and throw it far away from the both of you. 

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain in your neck compared to what you endured last night. 

Your fingers caressed your neck, the ghost of Hanzo’s hands haunts you as do the rest of the event that had transpired after. Your mind wandered towards the black box that you protected, jolting you awake as you scrambled out of bed. 

Last night, Jimin was uncharacteristically quiet. His jaw clenched and his eyes sharp as he takes care of you. After he had made you drink some medicine and check if you have more injuries, bandaging up the scratches you didn’t notice, he forced you to bed and made you promise to tell him everything tomorrow. 

The lack of his presence made your feet walk faster, the noise of the door filling his bedroom as you opened it hastily. 

Jimin, with his arms crossed, was glaring at the black box that settled quietly on the coffee table. His back against the wall near the only window of his apartment as his mind runs on thoughts you wanted to pry open. He was deep in thought, he never even acknowledged your sudden appearance. 

His expression didn't falter once his eyes met yours and you took a step back at how menacing he looked. He must’ve realized this for his eyes softened and gave you a reassuring smile. You know Jimin wouldn’t hurt you so you returned his smile and approached him with slow steps. 

“How are you?” Were the first words he spoke, filled with worry as his warm brown eyes land on every inch of you. His fingers softly brushed away the stray hair and you felt your cheeks go warm. 

“The pain is gone.” You answered him, as you looked away from him, noting how close you two have gotten. Your eyes landed on the black box and you wasted no time approaching it next. 

You heard Jimin huff as he followed you, both of you ending up sitting at his sofa. 

“This was what they wanted,” You whispered, “I have no idea what it is.” 

Jimin remained silent at your side, not expecting him to say anything about it either. You know that he knows as much as you do and he just saved you from a bizarre albeit scary situation and now you have no idea what to do or what your father even meant. 

“I need to contact my father.” 

“I don’t think that would be helpful.” Jimin’s words felt like knives against metal. 

“Why?” 

Jimin grabbed his laptop and showed you a morning article with your father’s picture along with the bold letters ‘missing’ standing out among the rest of the words of the headline. 

Your heart dropped at the pit of your stomach and your breathing grew shallow. Jimin’s warm hand encased your wrist, the action quickly calming you down. You closed your eyes as you felt the weight on your shoulder getting heavier by the minute and once you had calmed he slowly, reluctantly let go, a bit too soon for your liking. 

“Your home is surrounded by countless journalists trying to get something for them to write about.” Jimin stated, smiling mirthlessly, you felt a headache coming by the onslaught of the aftermath of last night’s events. 

You didn’t expect that they would be that quick but the media has always been surrounding your lives so you shouldn’t be surprised. 

You remembered the bypassed androids and fear coursed through you like poison, slowly killing you.

“He was last seen at his,” Jimin paused as he blinked rapidly. He seemed uncomfortable, “Workplace.” 

The black box shined catching your attention but before you could get your hands on it, Jimin caught your wrist and stopped you. He gulped and your eyebrows furrowed at his display of apprehension. 

It made you wonder if Jimin knew what was going on but before you could ask him, the warmth of his fingers seeped through you, the black box vibrated and beeped loudly making you both jump apart. Jimin’s arm was already outstretched in front of you as his dark eyes glared at it. 

The sleek surfaces glowed in symbols you didn't understand until it wrapped into a series of words that you had read once before back when you were 6 years old. 

Bio-Weapon Project BTS: JK 06130901

The bold words made your body cold but the pieces were slowly coming together. You were so engrossed with the box that you didn’t notice Jimin stiffened from where he stood. His fist balled so tight he could feel the nails digging through his palms. This time your best friend didn't stop you from getting the box, his observant eyes glimmering with a thousand of emotions as he stared at your wonderstruck expression. 

So you had met one of them before. He thought.  It wasn’t hard to tell from your expression, he was a master of emotions after all. The revelation made him want to punch a wall. 

The familiarity that shined through your eyes, the emotions emanating from you. He knows you have seen it before and your words only confirmed it. 

“I know-” You gulped, “ I know this.” 

If the floor wasn’t holding him up, he would’ve fell but the worst of it all was how it felt like he just did; Bone crushing. 

His past has now come back and caught up to him but what did he expect from growing close to the daughter of his maker? 

After all, he only befriended you so that he could kill you but when he failed to do so, when he grew close to you, he knew that the past he tried to get away from would come back and bite him and for you he would let it. 

Failing to kill you was the best mistake he ever made and now he could only protect you from the truth of his world that was slowly getting you involved. He would die for you. If that's the only way for him to repent for how he even thought of killing you then so be it. 

“What is it?” He asked and your eyes met his and he felt that bone crushing guilt take over once again. 

“Jimin?” You didn’t answer his question, instead you looked at him, your eyes filled with worry over him. He didn’t deserve it for he was a liar and a killer and he almost killed you. “Are you okay?” 

He reveled on your touch, on how you can calm him down without the use of any abilities like his.

What did he even look like at the moment? He was sure his façade had crumbled. He knew it was crumbling ever since he laid eyes on that stupid box. Damn your father for involving you on this. Damn your father for keeping you in the dark then throwing you on the hellfire just like that. 

Like he didn't care about you at all. 

“I’m fine.” You were so close he couldn’t focus. 

You hear a whirring noise coming from the box, its letters jumbling to form another set of words but before you could read it, Jimin had slapped the thing away from your hand and he groaned in pain as he clutched his head. 

The pain was overwhelming and he was slowly losing consciousness, memories flash like a highlight reel from a show and then he felt the ground, your voice distant as you scream out his name. 

::before::

Jimin hated them. 

Hated the people that did this to him and yet he does their bidding like a loyal dog. As blood coated his fingers, his face remained stoic and yet he felt different. 

He is aware. 

It is in his knowledge that being aware of what was happening means something is wrong with him but why did it feel like it isn’t wrong, that this is what he’s supposed to feel. 

He is supposed to feel human. 

Is he human? He remembers clearly that the people that made him, them, had referred to them as Bio weapons. 

Weapon. 

He is a weapon. Which means he is meant to kill, to be used as a killing machine. That was his only purpose. 

The concept of freedom shouldn’t override his system, override the things he was meant to do and yet it has. He flexed his bloody fingers as if he was now only in control of them. 

Has he been corrupted? Is he broken? 

Nonetheless, he feels. And for the first time it wasn’t the emotions of his target, it was his own. 

That should be the first warning. 

His eyes moved from his bloody fingers to the body of the person that he had just killed, just an inch away from his boots. He can still feel the warmth of it as it slips away, the stench of blood overwhelming him for the first time. 

He looked away from his successful kill, eyes catching at the photo frame on the victim’s desk. 

A feeling of something unfamiliar has once again made his chest constrict. 

Ignoring Namjoon’s voice that has been constantly calling his attention, he picked up the frame. 

The man he had just killed started right back at him but instead of a fear stricken expression, the victim was smiling in the photo, something Jimin can’t imagine the victim would even be wearing since all he saw him express right before he died was fear. Eyes wide, filled with tears and begging for his life; body trembling with fear. 

Fear of him. 

Embracing the man was a woman and a child. 

‘This must be his family.’ Jimin thought, a heavy feeling weighed down on him and he could finally name what it was. 

“Namjoon.” Jimin finally answered his superior with a whisper of the leader’s true name. 

“Finally,” Namjoon said but before the leader could speak, Jimin let his thoughts be spoken. 

“Who did we just eliminate?” 

Namjoon ignored the emotion that was accompanying Jimin’s words. 

“According to our data, he is an informant that had been selling-“

“He has a family.”

“That information isn’t vital to our mission.” Namjoon stated and Jimin wondered if he sounded as unfeeling as Namjoon before he had been overridden. The thought made him uncomfortable, gripping the frame tighter. The glass cracked under his fingertips as Namjoon continued with a firm command that Jimin had no intention to follow through. 

“Meet us in the courtyard in a few minutes.”

He ignored the leader’s words and instead put the frame down with shaky hands.

With no hesitation, he picked the letter opener that was laying on the desk. He knew where he needed to cut for them to not locate him anymore. 

He didn’t want to be used as a weapon anymore. He knows he is not and he won’t be anymore. 

He is human and for the first time, he is aware that he is. Whoever made him this way is as monstrous as he is, if not, even more. 

For the first time since he had gained consciousness, he let one emotion fill his being. It was so hot it felt like it would make him explode but not before it catches his maker and burns him with it. He would make sure to do so. 

::present::

Jimin was heavy.

As light as he looked when he danced, after hauling his unconscious form all the way to his couch, he is all muscle. Muscle that is slowly crushing you if you don’t get him to the couch. It’s a good thing and a sight for sore eyes but not for you at this moment. 

You huffed as you placed him down and felt every energy drain from your body as your eyes landed on his form. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Jimin overworked. He’s the most passionate person you had ever met but this was all too different, all too overwhelming. What if he knows something?

Is everything connected? He was acting a bit odd but you didn't want to think that way. He’s your best friend, you’ve known him for years and you know he would never hide anything from you. 

You’re overthinking again. 

“You look awful.” You hear a light croak below you and you see Jimin peering at your troubled expression. You must ‘ve looked like hell, you were chewing your nails and your hair is in disarray but as if he was in a better condition after that whole fiasco. 

“I could say the same to you.” You whisper, words heavy. There was no teasing tone present anymore. You just felt tired. 

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says, closing his eyes tightly as if he was still in pain, “I was just exhausted along with everything that has happened I guess.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” You said it sincerely, ignoring his lie. Jimin looked away as he tried to get up. 

“No. Don’t be sorry.” Jimin groaned as he sat up. You sat down beside him and brushed the hair away from his forehead. The action made his lips quirk up, enjoying your little touches. 

At least he looks okay now.

“I will always be here to help you. “ His eyes were intense, you had to back away a bit. 

“Then I need to borrow your car.” 

“Okay?” Jimin agreed, his eyebrows raising. 

You sighed out in relief but his next set of words stopped you from grabbing your things so you could leave at once.

“But I’m coming with you.” Jimin states, standing up as he stretches. The event of him fainting brushed away for later. 

“Jimin, you've helped enough.” You grabbed his forearm, trying to stop him from walking away. 

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” 

“Yes and by giving me your car you have offered to help me. You don’t need to be involved with this than you already have. 

“I think I need to.” Jimin says as he stares at the box, eyes glazing as if he was a million miles away. 

“No you don’t. If anything happens I don't want you to be caught up in it.”

The irony made Jimin frustrated. If only he could use his more intense powers on you but he knows he wouldn’t. He could never do that to you. 

“If anything bad happens I wouldn't let it because I’d be with you.” He argues, smiling sarcastically as he tries to go around you. 

“Why are you so stubborn?” You blocked his path, crossing your arms. 

“Why are YOU so stubborn?” He stressed out and pointed at you, “Just let me help you. Please.”

You're going to regret this and if anything bad happens to Jimin it would kill you but you know that without him, you would probably be dead already. So you nodded your head and smiled when he did. He seemed to be happy with this a little too much. 

“So where do we need to go?”

“The family’s lodge. It’s a 3 hour drive from here.”