When You Found Out They Cheated On You

When you found out they cheated on you

Pairing: Hyung line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: because if there’s maknae story, there should be the hyung line story! Work and school have been exhausting me lately sksks I’m glad I made time to finish this! I hope you enjoy!

Namjoon

“It was a stupid mistake!” Namjoon, who rarely raised his voice, implored you to believe him. But you were done believing him. It didn’t matter if it only happened once, or that it was a mistake- none of that mattered because what mattered was that for that short span of moments, his lust overpowered his supposedly love for you.

“Stupid mistake? Namjoon, you’re one of the smartest man on earth for fuck’s sake! What you did wasn’t stupid! It cannot even be considered a mistake!” You screamed at him, your emotions getting the best of you because he kept on blocking your path. You gentle giant would never put his hand on you in anger, but he sure did use his form to stop you from leaving the studio. Jungkook looked traumatized as he inadvertently watched his hyung that he looked up to, and his noona in this terrible scenario.

“Flower, it’s the truth. It was nothing but a mistake! You’re the only one who has my heart! You’re the only one I love-“

“Do you? Really? Do you really love me?”

“I do!”

You shook your head before he could even finished his sentence. “No, Namjoon. I love you. I would never cheat on you. I would never betray your trust. But you did. And now I can’t even love you,” you argued softly, feeling all the energy draining out from you. Suddenly, you were just too tired of it all, and your words made Namjoon faltered.

He felt himself panic, felt himself at lost for the first time. He was a man who always knew what to do, always soldiered on through the toughest of times. But you saying you could no longer love him made him lose his composure. And with his stoic form, you walked past him.

You thought you could leave, really thought you could escape this messed up situation when the golden maknae suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking you from opening the door.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, closing your eyes as tears fell. “Please. Move.”

Jungkook’s lips quivered as he looked at your broken, desolate form, and to his leader who looked so lost, his head bent down as he looked so forlone. He knew he had to help just like how Namjoon was always ready to lend him a helping hand. He was always there to make the difficult decisions, always there to make sure that the members were doing fine.

And now, his leader was anything but fine. And you were the only one who held the great leader together. If you left, Jungkook was terrified to think of what would happen to his hyung.

You attempted to walk around him when he only moved with you, softly stopping you from leaving.

“Please noona, just listen to hyung first, okay?”

“No. I have nothing to say to him anymore.”

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t let you leave-“

You forcedly pushed him to the side, but the muscular golden maknae barely even moved. You were full on crying as you felt so emotionally drained and physically helpless that you didn’t notice Namjoon was standing behind you. His huge hand, the one that you always admired, snaked around you, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Let me go! Let me leave-“ He cut you off, his head bent to nuzzle your neck, his voice deep as the words he said made you paused.

“You and I know that I can’t ever let you go, flower. We’ll talk. We’ll resolve this. We’ll be happy again. You’re mine, flower. You’re never going to leave me.”

You whipped your head to look at him. Was he so disillusioned that he thought you would stay with him after cheating on you? Did he really think you’d still accept him?

Namjoon met your eyes with his determined ones, his other arm wrapping around your waist, effectively preventing you from leaving his side.

No.

Never would you leave him.

Never would he let you.

Without breaking eye contact, his deep voice resounded on the quietness of the studio. “Thanks, Jungkook. And lock the door when you leave.”

Seokjin

“I just can’t stand and see you live a lie. Y/N, we saw Seokjin and a girl kissing…I’m sorry you had to hear this from me.”

You heard what she said, could understand what she said. But why then were you frozen in tracks? Why then were your hands suspended as you poured her coffee? Why then did you desperately not want to believe her?

Why then did you want to run away from this situation?

She was your close friend, practically grew up with you. And you knew she would never lie about something like this. The picture she was showing on her phone was all the proof you needed.

You wouldn’t live with the disrespect, would never allow yourself to stay on a relationship that didn’t value honesty. And so, immediately you resigned from their company after spending so many years working in finance. The HR refrained from asking as though they had an inkling of idea why you were leaving. You set the effectivity as soon as possible, sacrificing your career just as he sacrificed your relationship for a fleeting lust. You were as though on an autopilot, your face stoic as you went out of the house and faced the world, only breaking down once you were safe in the four walls of your house.

Your house.

You were so glad that you didn’t jump right at the prospect of living with him when he begged you to move in with him. You were smart not to uproot your whole life and independence and space. But God were you tempted to wake up everyday in his arms, to see his sleepy face first thing in the morning, to cook and experiment with him.

But all of those were now gone with the wind.

You were avoiding him successfully from the day you were informed, leaving his messages and calls unanswered, leaving the door locked whenever he knocked which made him think you weren’t home.

So where were you?

If only you saw Jin right now, you’d feel a little bit pity for the man you still loved. That was the thing with love, it didn’t just fade away because someone did a mistake. It stayed, it lingered…until it festered from the inside.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, his messages getting increasingly agitated, angry, sad, and frantic- all of which were left unanswered.

You owed him nothing but your silence, yet his last message sent shivers down your spine.

‘You know I hate being ignored, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m capable to do if I ever lose you.’

Everyone knew Jin was a good man, someone who was always soft and always looking out for the members. Everyone knew he was selfless. But only you saw the swirling darkness in his eyes whenever he looked at you, only you felt how tight he was holding you whenever someone was near you, or how hard he made love to you on nights when he had no choice but to leave you for work.

But this was different. You felt like his message was a form of promise…or a threat.

Finally, his company contacted you for the documents you needed in order to secure another job, as well as your final pay. You were glad to get this done. You were planning on accepting another job far, far, far away from Jin, his lies, and the relationship you thought would survived. You went to the company after asking your friend that worked there if the group was in the building. Apparently, they were doing a guesting on a radio show which made you feel some kind of thing.

The last time you saw Jin was when he left your apartment before going abroad. You remembered how tight he hugged you, how warm his chest was, and how you were almost crying just thinking about him being gone for a week- which apparently was enough time for him to cheat on you.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he said with a small laugh, wiping your tears with his thumb. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to call everyday! Every hour!”

You laughed at his ridiculousness, and once you did, he gifted you with his beautiful smile. “That’s impossible. You’ll be busy-“

“Nothing is impossible for your boyfriend. I’ll even call you every thirty minutes!”

You scoffed at his cuteness. “It’s true! I’ll even be more clingy or else some asshole might snatch you up while you’re all alone.”

And when you stopped crying, he kissed you so tenderly, so slowly, savoring every moment with you that when you opened your eyes, you were smiling from how much he loved you.

You were an idiot.

You stepped out of the office after bidding your coworkers that turned close friends goodbye, and after securing the documents, the radio station where the group was guesting was playing on the huge screen on the hallway. You frowned when you noticed there were only six of them…with no Jin in sight.

“I see there’s only six of you. Is the world wide handsome doing okay?” The radio host asked the group members in concern, in which Namjoon took the lead.

“He has an emergency right now that sadly cannot wait. But I assure you, our hyung is okay, and he will be resolving the issue as soon as possible.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t believe your ears. And you certainly cannot believe your eyes when you suddenly felt a hand gripped your wrist, and dragged you down the hall. Your eyes were wide as you stared at Jin’s broad back, his breaths hard as he pulled you with him. You were too shocked to even resist, not until he pulled you inside his office and locked the door behind him.

His jaw was clenched as he took you in, his face missing the usual playfulness in it.

“I thought something bad happened to you,” he began in the deepest voice you heard him used. His form was rigid as he took you in, searching for any harm that may have come your way since you started ghosting him. And only when he were assured that you were unharmed did he meet your eyes. You were unharmed and that should calmed him down, but it didn’t. It didn’t get passed his observation that you appeared thinner than the last time he saw you. And he loathed that. Jin took pride in the fact taking care of you, of making sure that your well-being was his main priority that your weight dropped was like a knife to his heart. “I thought someone took you away from me,” he continued, walking closer to you as though he was a predator, and you a prey that had been successfully evading him for quite some time. And it enraged him, that when he got closed enough to you, he trapped you in his arms never to let you go. “Sweetheart, I thought I lost you,” he whispered in a dark tone, yet an underlying terrified emotion passed through his eyes.

You looked at him with hard eyes, “Don’t touch me.”

“First you ran away from me and now you don’t want me touching you?” He scoffed in disbelief.

“First you claimed to love me and then you threw our relationship to the ground and cheated on me,” you snapped back, pushing the tall man away from you with all your strength and the asshole only moved few inches.

“W-what? Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” He visibly paled, his hand was shaking with sudden stressed and anxiety.

“You’re not an idiot, Seokjin. So stop acting like one.”

“I don’t understand. Is that why you’re avoiding me? Because you think I cheated-“

“Don’t you dare make me feel like an idiot, Kim Seokjin.”

“I’m not, sweetheart. But that is not true! I’ll never cheat on-“

You showed him your phone, the one that your friend showed you and broke your heart. His eyes were on the screen of your phone, his eyes went round that you had proof of his infidelity. After a moment of silence, you deleted the picture.

“Don’t worry. Your image is safe,” you smiled at him sadly, assuring him that you would never use this against him despite how much he devastated you. At this point, you were just damn tired and his presence would never put you whole again.

You wanted to be away from him.

You managed to render him speechless, managed to put much distance between the two of you, before going straight to the door.

“She meant nothing,” his voice was pleading, watching you with pitiful eyes.

“Apparently, I mean nothing, too.”

You were about to open the door when his words stopped you.

“Do you want me to destroy her? You know I can…Just tell me what you need so we can move past this, sweetheart…”

You knew your Jin’s family was powerful, something that he never bragged about. He was so humble that he even chose to start from the very bottom, growing with the members through hardship despite the fact that he had a rich family. And now that he was saying these words, offering you to destroy someone just because he could proved to you how much you never knew him.

Your eyes were terrified as you looked up at the tall man, his jaw clenched, seriousness and madness crossing his face. “What I want is for you to go back in time and be faithful to me, but we cannot have that, do we?”

His handsome face visibly flinched from your verbal attack, but you had to get this out of your chest. “What I want is for you to leave me alone. I’m done with you, Kim Seokjin.”

And finally, when you opened the door, he didn’t stop you. Yet, his parting words to you assured you that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of him.

“I’ll give you time. I’ll give you space. But please don’t make me be the villain in our story, sweetheart. Because I can be the villain if it means keeping you with me.”

Yoongi

Your Yoongi was staying up late in his studio for almost a month now, pouring in so many hours just to perfect his craft that more often than not, you slept and woke up alone. And you would admit that you were feeling quite lonely, the fancy apartment he got for you and him was screaming in elegance, but you had never felt so alone than you did right now.

You missed your Yoongi.

With your mind made up, you cooked him his favorite food. You’d surprised him in his studio.

But when you got there, it was you who was surprised.

You wished you didn’t come, wished that you never locked eyes with him. You wished you never met him.

Yet most of all, you wish you never knew. It was true what they said, ignorance was a fucking bliss because having seen him thrusting behind a bent girl, one that you recognized, sent sharp stabs of pain and betrayal in your heart.

Did you ever really know him?

Because the man who opened his eyes in time to see your tears fell was not the one you fell in love with, he wasn’t the man who promised never to cheat on you because he knew how it felt, knew how damaging it was,

He experienced it, he lived it- so why then was he making you live the nightmare he escaped?

Yoongi’s movement faltered when he saw you. He wanted so bad to wake up from this, wanted so bad to consider this a mere nightmare. But it wasn’t. You were really looking at him with hurt and betrayal in your eyes.

But didn’t he mean for this to happen? Wasn‘t he the one to always self-destruct when things were becoming too good to be true? And weren’t you too good to be true?

You were too good for him.

And now he was regretting giving in to temptation, he regretted destroying the one good and pure thing in his life.

“K-Kitten,” he called out to you as he removed himself from the woman. And you winced when you heard the sickening sound of the proof of his infidelity. Before he could even tucked himself, you left.

You couldn’t even stay one second with him.

You couldn’t even breathe in that room because it reeked of them.

You couldn’t breath. God, you couldn’t breathe.

You heard him screaming for you as you ran, his deep voice resounding on the hallway as the remaining staff looked at you with bewilderment in their eyes. They never heard the Min Yoongi that desperate and fearful until that day.

You didn’t know how, but you managed to pack your stuff and left him and his lies. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to go after you. It did hurt, but you were glad he didn’t. You couldn’t believe he made a fool of you when you did nothing but love and understand his hectic schedule. And now you didn’t want to see him.

You thought you’d never hear from him again. You were sure he was ashamed of himself that he’d never show up in front of you again. But you couldn’t be anymore wrong.

It was almost a week when you came home from work. Your apartment was small, and not something you’d rent for a long time. But it was exactly what you needed- somewhere far away from him. So imagine your surprise when you walked to your apartment only to find him waiting for you.

Yoongi looked thinner, he looked paler and his eyes looked like they had not rested since forever. He stepped near you but you acted like he wasn’t there, fishing your keys from your bag.

“Kitten-“

You evaded his touch, not looking at his way and instead, attempted to open your door.

“Kitten, let’s talk. Please. I haven’t slept since you left. I’ve been going crazy because I couldn’t find you,” he said desperately, his voice showing agitation despite him trying to say his piece calmly. You pretended to not hear him. You promised yourself that the next time you’d see him, you would act as if he didn’t exist, because why shouldn’t you? In the first place, he acted as if you didn’t exist and proceeded on fucking someone else.

You cursed when you dropped your keys in your haste. You bent down and tried again, praying to heavens that your hand stopped trembling.

“I didn’t know where you were. I went around, I looked for you. I went to your family, I went to your friends but none of them knew where you are. I thought something bad happened to you. I thought I’d never see you again,” he sputtered out, his eyes desperately searching yours as he stood beside you. His form looked defeated, yet you knew he was a stubborn man.

He wouldn’t let this go.

“As you can see, I am alive and well. So leave,” you said in a cold voice, not once removing your eyes from your door that was as equally stubborn as Yoongi.

“Why would I? My girlfriend is here. Shouldn’t lovers stay together?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

You sighed in frustration before finally, finally looking at the lunatic beside you.

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought our relationship was done from the time you cheated on me.”

If he was affected by your verbal attack, he didn’t show. Instead, his eyes lost their desperation, and in their place was determination. He stepped near you that it left you no choice but to back away from him until you felt the door behind you.

“Oh, kitten, you thought we were done? That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” He whispered as he bent down to look into your eyes. He smiled at you, his smile so sweet yet so cold, as though some switch was turned. “That’s okay. I understand. But we’re not done because you promised me before that you were never going to leave me, isn’t that right, kitten?”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. Having touched you calmed him down enough to know that you needed space from him. But it was alright. He’d give you space. He’d let you breathe.

But there was no way he was going to let you go.

But you were smart, because the very next day, you moved.

Hoseok

“Don’t! Don’t touch me. You disgust me!” You screamed at him as you pushed his desperate hands away from you.

You couldn’t believe how idiotic you were. You thought surprising him in the hotel he was staying in Japan was a smart move. You thought he’d be happy to see you because why wouldn’t he want to see you when it was your fucking anniversary today.

And yet here you were, shocked to see him in bed with another woman.

The staff were hesitant to tell you his room number this time. But it would rather be more suspicious if they didn’t give Jung Hoseok’s longtime girlfriend his room number when they were used to you surprising him.

As soon as Hoseok opened the door wearing only a robe, you jumped and planted kisses on his handsome face. But when you finally opened your eyes, you saw a woman hastily wearing her clothes with her hair all over her face, and her lipstick smudged. Slowly, you turned to look at his lips only to find the same shade there.

You never laid hands on him, not even in playful fights.

But this time, you slapped him so hard his head turned to the side.

“Angel, I-I’m sorry!” He sobbed as you pushed him further away from you, your eyes never leaving the crumpled bedsheets, his scattered clothes on the floor, the glasses of wine on the table. You couldn’t believe he could do this to you. You couldn’t believe he would ever do this to you.

He was full on sobbing as he held you to him. And you were still too shocked of everything- yet you knew you didn’t want him touching you.

You struggled against him, pushing him away. He still smelled like her. The girl had long ran out of the room, yet her presence still lingered.

“Don’t touch me. We’re done, Hoseok,” you declared in a strong voice before turning away from him. You didn’t even make it halfway to the hallway when you heard his scream that were so loud that the members all went out of their rooms thinking it was an emergency.

You heard him before you could even turn to look at him.

“Please please please, don’t leave me please,” he croaked as you looked at his tear-stained eyes. He was inconsolable, his breathing rapid as he implored you to believe him, to not leave him.

You shook your head at him, aware of the members who were all watching the two of you with anguish and surprised in their eyes. They weren’t used to see Hoseok this vulnerable, and they had known you for so long and yet this was the first time they saw the two of you like this.

What happened?

He was so in love with you..

Hoseok attempted to touch you when you slapped him once again, your anger getting the best of you. “I told you not to touch me. Never touch me again,” you fumed at him, never minding his distressed state. “Not when you fucked someone else minutes ago!”

“I’m sorry. Don’t leave me. Don’t. Please.”

At that point, Hoseok was even more incoherent, his cries making his words come out short that Jimin couldn’t take it any longer and went closer to his hyung in an attempt to calm him down.

“No. You deserved to be alone,” you spat at him before walking away only to be once again stopped by him. He tugged your hand, and to your surprised, he knelt down. He bowed down his head as though he was praying for you not to leave, your hand trapped in his larger ones.

“Hyung-“

“I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything for you to forgive me. Just please!” His voice was loud as he wailed, his shoulders shaking. He looked up to you. “Please don’t leave me.”

But his tears wouldn’t move you. Not when you gave him all of you. Not when you loved him with all your heart only for him to cheat on you.

At your cold stare and silence, Jimin squatted down beside him. “Hyung, maybe you two should talk again when both of you are calmer.”

Namjoon’s mind started shifting gears. He knew no one should see Hoseok like this, knew that the dancer could not control his emotions. He stepped near you, touching your elbow gently as he leaned down to look at you.

“Right. Hyung, the two of you will talk tomorrow. I’m sure Y/N is still exhausted from her flight,” he started before looking at the still crying man. He nodded his head at him in assurance. And only when Hoseok nodded did Jimin helped his hyung to stand up. “Jimin, bring him to his room first. I’ll take care of Y/N.”

He didn’t leave, not before telling you he loved you and that he’d talk to you tomorrow. Not before you and Namjoon left first.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” you whispered to the tall man beside you.

“I know. It’s just to calm him down for tonight, Y/N,” he assured you, knowing that what his hyung did was wrong. He heard enough to know that his hyung was in the wrong. “But I hope you know he’s never going to let you go that easily.”

And when you looked behind you, there he still was, standing with tears in his eyes- yet his face was clouded with darkness and a promise that he would make this right, whether you wanted to or not.

IT WAS THE MONSTERS: 1

SUMMARY: You were born with the ability to see and spot spirits and monsters. From vampires, to werewolves, demons, ghosts and ghouls. Now, as an adult, you use this “gift” to help your clients overcome their worst demons. The “gift” you had never really caused you trouble now that you’re an adult, but you guess some monsters don’t like psychics who interfere with their fun. 

RATING: 18+ (i am not a babysitter, you are in control of what you consume.)

PAIRING: ot7 x reader | poly!au

BOOK MENTIONS: Violence | Eventual Polyamory | Talks Of Reincarnation | Reader Is Too Stunned To Speak | Destruction Of Property | Paranormal Stuff | Gifted Reader | Inaccurate Description Of Demons & Spirits | Cursing | Terrible Therapists | Readers Left Eye Is Purple | Small Mention Of Jesus | Jimin & Tae Are Angry Boys | I Suck At Tagging Pls Help

A/N: I spent so much time procrastinating this sorry hotties. Only at least 1k word but It took so much out of me.

Second sight, passed on from the L/N bloodline from generation to generation. There was a sudden stunt in its flow for at least 8 of those generations, until you were born. Your mother complained throughout her pregnancy that she’d see visions of you in your past life but it was waved off. When you finally came into this world, your father says there was a flash of something in your eyes, a purple gleam that danced there as he held you.

At least, that's the story you get when you ask about your eye

Being that  you were the first in 200 years to be sighted, you had no one to teach you how to control such a “gift”, at least that's what others called it. Though there are many that call you blessed, you'd beg to differ. Growing up, this quirk always got you into trouble.

Playful spirits yanked at your puffs and pulled out your barrettes and often caused your silky pressed hair to frizz. Some monsters take their time to torture you by sitting in your closet or under your bed, lurking in the shadows. Middle school was definitely your worst era. You had random outbursts and twitches that caused people to push away from you. It wasn't even your fault, but what could you really say?

“It’s not me! it’s the monsters!” That's ridiculous really.

Your parents took you to therapy for it but you could see the deceitful demons sucking and clinging onto them, so that never helped you at all. They were so quick to throw you a bottle of pills that it eventually stopped working.

  As you get older, you learn to ignore it along with learning to be patient and more even tempered. During high school you were weird and lowkey, wearing huge black sunglasses from freshman to senior year. They helped block out your sight and question's about your eye.

You managed to make friends with a werewolf though he left unannounced in the middle of senior year.  You guess he shifted early and went away to his home where people like him roamed freely.

Graduating as a below-average person, you decided to say fuck college and open your own business.

A “palm reader” ,  “physic” , “witch”, “Woman Jesus”. There were many terms that your clients and random people called you. 

Your job was to find your client's demons and attack them. Any addiction, health issues, relationship problems. These were all caused by parasitic demons and they thrived off sucking the life out of regular people. You didn’t have the qualifications to banish anything by force, so you did help many people in a safer, smarter way with 3 easy steps. 

Identifying the demon. This wasn't hard for you, since you literally saw the demon sucking the life out of a person

Acknowledge them

Taming them

 The most common among all parasites are lust demons. 

Their job was to suck you completely dry and leave you broken. Most people were too far gone before you could save them, but the ones who weren’t you changed their lives greatly. One night while you were closing your shop, two men walked in, one short and blond, the other dark haired, and taller than the other. They were both dangerously handsome and the energy that came from them was hot, sensual, and angry. The blond stormed up to you hissing, eyes turning an unnatural shade of black. “So you’re the one putting us out of business?” 

Staring at his face, you could definitely tell this was one of the men disrupting the lives of so many men and women in this area. Most of your clients have complained about these two being a one-night stand at some club, then as days go on they invade their dreams, and every single thought. Jimin and Taehyung, the dynamic incubus duo. 

You’ve never had a demon come directly to you for butting into their affairs. You guessed these two were fearless, but fortunately the underworld had rules. If any entity killed someone on second sight, they’d be banished back to hell for eternity, and you're sure these two parasites have been around for a long time.” 

“ I’m sorry gentlemen, I'm not sure we’ve met?” You tilt your head, clenching your purse strap up on your arm. Taehyung scoffed, walking around your shop touching a few things every now and then, with a flick of the wrist, the shelf on the side of you tumbled to the ground. 

You squeak, moving out of the way, tripping and knocking over a display table filled with tarot cards. “You are the only one in this miserable town with real second sight.” 

While Jimin talked, Taehyung walked through your shop dropping shelf after shelf. 

“No screaming tongues, or holy water.” the crashing of shelves halted and only the thud of Jimin's boots coming towards you could be heard.  “Your banishing is less dramatic, more modern, effective and so you.” 

You jumped at the sound of your crystal ball shattering above your head, making you scream, as tiny shards of glass cut into your hands. “Y/N L/N, that is your name now?”  

When Taehyung spoke your name, the walls began to vibrate as did your body. 

“Ah taetae, I don't think this is our little princess, just a sad little human of no morals or knowledge”J imin appeared in front of you, bending down to you, hand burning into your skin as he lifted your chin up to meet his blood red eyes surveying your skin. “Though you still possess an untouchable beauty”

You were speechless, scared, and confused. They talked as if they knew you from another lifetime. You can't say you didn't believe it was possible, since you saw devious things every day, but it was still nerve-racking to hear. ''Maybe we should just keep you little princess, and bring back those old memories ”

 Your shop began to shake and tremble, all the shelves had fallen, glass shattering and books spinning around the three of you. 

Standing, he made himself very loud and clear, “Don’t let us hear your name again,” and for their grand finally the front windows of your shop shattered around you.  

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Yan!Emperor Hoseok Headcanons

Prince!Hoseok who meets you on the day his father was crowned as emperor and finds you quite interesting. You being aged 7 and him 10.

Prince!Hoseok who offers to accompany you to the royal garden when you tell him this is your first time being here.

Prince!Hoseok who is saddened by the fact you have to return back home after your father comes to pick you up.

Prince!Hoseok who realises you are the royal physician's daughter and there are still chances that he will see you again.

Prince!Hoseok who requests his father to let you accompany your father so he can play with you while your father tends to the royal family.

Prince!Hoseok who by now has a whole fat ass crush on you and everyone around him knows about it.

Prince!Hoseok who promises to make you his wife as soon as you both are of age. 

Prince!Hoseok who knows you like him back by the way you blush everytime he smiles at you.

Prince!Hoseok who has no interest in the throne, even though he is the crown prince. His mother, the empress, kept scolding him time and time for his lack of interest.

It was when she threatened him to not see you anymore, Prince!Hoseok's yandere tendencies came out.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who realises that he needs to have power in order to keep you with him without you denying him.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who works hard and proves himself to be worthy of the crown prince position and to be your husband.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who is devastated to know that he cannot have you as his main wife since his mother has already told him to choose someone of higher rank than you.

Yan!Prince Hoseok agrees to take the woman his mother chose for him only on one condition, you will become his consort. The empress had no choice but to agree.

It doesn't take long to reach the royal decree to your mansion saying that you are to be the consort of the crown prince.

Your father seemed to be worried ever since, he didn't want you to be married in the royal family, especially the crown prince. He knew what schemes women did in order to gain favour for themselves and their clan. 

You then reassure him that you would keep yourself out of danger. Besides, you loved Hoseok and you trusted him to keep you safe. But deep down, your heart did shatter at the thought of him being with other women.

On the other hand,

Yan!Prince Hoseok who cannot even think of marrying any woman who is not you.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who has a devious plan and has already planned everything out.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who gets married to the girl but refuses to spend the night with her with an excuse of being tired. 

Yan!Prince Hoseok who marries you as his consort days after and is fawning over you in the wedding dress.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who misses no chance of being intimate with you, making the princess consort jealous.

Yan!Prince Hoseok who is devastated when he hears news of the emperor, his father's death reaches him. But soon realises that he is now the emperor and he can do whatever he wants.

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who wastes no time in setting his plan into action, and in no time, the news of the princess consort's disappearance is spread around the Palace.

It was soon believed that she had run away with her lover as she had gone missing for months by now. Those letter's found in her chambers proved everything.

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who stands proud beside you when you are crowned as the Empress. His one and only wife. 

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who bounces in joy once the news of your pregnancy is announced. 

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who is disappointed when his mother advises him to bring more women in his harem.

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who flatly refuses the idea and threatens to send her to the cold palace if she brings the idea again.

The empress dowager was furious and decided to talk to you. Let's just say the news reached his ears and he was not pleased at all.

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who sends his own mother to cold palace after she repeatedly tried to force him to bring women to his harem. 

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who has heart eyes everytime he has a glimpse of you. 

Yan!Emperor Hoseok who is now a father to 7 kids, 4 boys and 3 girls who are a perfect combination of you and him. 

________

Taglist: @mwitsmejk @silversparkles11 @jiminiseternal @articpup @minshookie29 @flowerchump @imbroketbh @bakahoesbitch

A/N: it's the updated version of the headcanon I wrote long ago

The Household’s Bunny

Note: This will be a series of unnumbered chapters, drabbles and texts as opposed to a formal written series. Yes, the premise is loosely inspired by Brother’s Conflict, so I will be tagging it as pseudo- brothers, just in case, although none of them consider each other family, because the boys were adopted later in their childhood so they never really felt that familial bond and often refer to each other as friends, so I’m still up in the air on if they will get romantically involved with each other. The fics are more or less in order starting from the top and going down, concurrent with the texts. There will eventually be a lot of sexual content in this, so I stress again, no minors here or on my page thank you!!

Banner by: @rapline-heaux 💗

Summary: You were a cam girl and OnlyFans creator all the while you were a senior in college. A series of events leads you to be living with seven men under the same roof of one renovated motel. Entering the life of rich, and touch starved, men as a less than rich, but similarly touch starved, woman is bound to hold some shenanigans

Pairing: Soft Yandere! OT7 x Chubby! Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, hurt-comfort at times, softish yandere, kinda a crack fic at times, part smau, part written

Warnings: 18+! fem and fem-bodied reader, unhealthy relationships (i mean, it’s a yandere, albeit soft-ish but still a yandere, fic), subject to change warnings include.. smut, cam girl, pseduo-brothers(see note above), kinda a crack fic, online sex work, camming, sex toys, onlyfans, yandere behavior but the boys are all dummies kinda- at least at first-, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, specialized warnings for each drabble will be on the specific post

Updated: October 09, 2022

Keep reading

Trouvaille - Chapter One

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.4k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hello everyone, this is Dana! This is the first complete chapter of Trouvaille, an introduction to the story and several characters. I have been working on this story for a long time, so I am overjoyed to share it with others. If you'd like to be added to the taglist for the next few chapters, don't hesitate to ask, I'll gladly add you. Any comments, questions, and feedback is lovingly received, and thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

Although it was Friday, the hands of Y/N’s watch moved as if stuck in honey, hours ticking by painfully, and her patience was wearing thin. Today was her last day at her job. That morning, while sipping a cup of tea wrapped up in her quilt in bed, she had stared out the window absently as she frequently caught herself doing, fog rolling through the tall grasses of the back yard and filling the sky with stormy colors. The morning of her last day of work was like any other, planned to the minute, methodical, and solitary. Routine, she found, drove her crazy, but she wondered what exactly she would do after it’s upheaval – was it back to school, helping her mother out at the library, applying for a job at the smoothie bar, starting a ghost hunting crew? Endless possibilities boggled her even more than repetitive routine, she didn’t have a plan, and it was somewhat freeing. 

The veterinarian hospital she worked at was located in the heart of Boston, and saw near-constant foot traffic. When she arrived in the morning there were nothing but appointments to attend to, animals to check in, bags of kibble to sell, and of course, the odd surgery or two. Her position, specifically, was the on-staff exotics veterinarian, and often trained her colleagues to treat animals that weren’t cats and dogs. 

She was in the midst of her last examination, one that would likely end in surgery for a broken wing. It was getting late, there were only a handful of her colleagues left in the building, and she still had to talk to her supervisor about her leave. Y/N had chosen to word it as “taking a leave” rather than formally turning in resignation papers, as much as she was leaning towards a complete change of career. There was a chance after a few months of indulging herself in new directions that she’d come running back to the hospital.

Squinting, Y/N skimmed the clipboard containing information about the parrot she was currently treating, taking care not to touch his injured wing when she wrapped the bird in a towel for better handling.

“Lex, I need the radiograph up on the screen, please. Watch out for his beak!” Nimbly, Y/N turned the agitated bird away from the young lab tech before he nipped at her elbow. “He’s a biter, not that I can blame him, after what’s happened to his wing,” adjusting the towel around the Macaw, Y/N glanced at the large screen above the observation table. Eyes scanning the radiograph with practiced precision, she realized that the fracture was not something that could be mended with tape and time. A door closing and the sound of metal rolling in a tin alerted her of the presence of the tech she was most proud of training, a young man named John.

“John? Oh, John, thank God you’re back, did room 103 have the IM pins? I want this parrot to be stabilized as quickly as possible. I don’t think he is used to being handled,” Y/N explained, struggling to keep the bird's large beak away from her ears. Vaguely, Y/N heard Lex slip from the room, likely running to the next room for another emergency radiograph. John, his blue eyes drooping in concern, slid the tray of IM pins across the observation table while clicking his tongue. 

“Poor guy. What happened?” John asked, chest heaving with the effort of running down the veterinarian hospital halls. His creamsicle colored scrubs, an undoubtedly sunny wardrobe choice, was littered with sunset orange sweat stains and spots of animal drool as he reached across the table for the patient file. He let out a low whistle at the accident report as Y/N decided one IM pin would be plenty to get the fractured bone to realign once more.

“Wing caught in cage door? That can’t be right, especially with the size of the fracture,” John exclaimed, smooth features pulling into an incredulous expression. Eyes flicking up to the parrot, Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in frustration, John hurriedly washed his hands in the sink and pulled two pairs of latex gloves from the box next to the sink. It was the unsaid in the report that raised suspicion; how, exactly, did the bird get its wing stuck in the cage door himself? It was more common, in fact, for Y/N to treat animals that were abused; things were rarely accidents, when it came to exotics. 

“Are you ready for surgery? For the size of the bird and the fracture, I estimate we’ll be working for about three hours before he can be brought to recovery,” Y/N slipped a clean mask over her face, adjusting the frameless plastic goggles so they don’t fog, before carefully ensuring John had a hold on the parrot. John grunted in assent, likely just as bone-tired as she was. 

Rider, she faintly remembered, was the parrot’s name, as she watched white suds circle and filter down the drain. Once her hands were dry and the gloves snapped over her wrists, she felt the numbing sensation of dropping into total concentration. In a way, that was the best part of her job; the quieting of her brain for the length of a surgery, distracted by the methodical procedures, the pressure to work against the clock, and above all – the importance of helping the animal. 

Perhaps it was selfish, in a way, to crave the escape from her inner monologue considering her line of work, but some people had meditation and some people were joggers. Certainly, every sane person needed an outlet for serenity to make sense of the rest of the chaos infecting their lives. Sometimes, Y/N even believed she had combined her serenity with vocation, her work and her respite intimately entwined. Other times, at the bottom of a nondescript bottle with her friends, she grew nauseous at the rigidity of it all. 

“Prepare the K-wires, let’s get started,” Y/N declared, pulling the operating light over the table. John grunted in response, Y/N smoothing a hand over the parrot’s crown in a practiced soothing manner. 

“We’ll get you all fixed up, Rider,” Y/N whispered to the Macaw, the eyes of the parrot boring into her in a way that made her feel exposed. 

“So, does this mean we can finally call it a day?” John asked raggedly, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. The air outside of the operating room felt significantly fresher, the bright lights by the employee lockers snapping Y/N out of her surgical reverie. Peeling the sticky gloves from her hands and tiredly tossing them into a nearby trash can, she nodded. 

“All done, John! You can go ahead and get out of here. It’s Friday night, after all – I just have to talk to Dr. Davies before I can go myself,” Y/N smiled warmly at John. While he was one of the newest vet techs, over the past seven months at the office he had managed to surpass all of the other techs in surgical skill. 

Frowning slightly, John paused before reaching for his book bag. “Are you going to discuss your leave?” He inquired softly. 

Y/N sighed heavily. While she had enjoyed training John, and found significant fulfillment in her profession, the past few months had felt more and more draining. Being an exotics veterinarian was one of the hundreds of things she had dreamed of as a child. She had excelled in school, graduating close to the top of her class, and had even landed an amazing position at her current animal hospital fresh out of university. For the first year, Y/N saw herself at Harbor Animal Hospital long-term, aspiring to be like the incredible Dr. Tia Davies, her boss and mentor. 

As time went on, Y/N felt a sadness well up inside of her as she treated animal after animal. The world had become a cruel place full of neglect for animals, especially for the exotics she cared for. When she was a little girl, her grandparents took her to a traveling circus every summer when it came through Boston. It was there, where she watched beautiful parrots soar, elegant leopards slink through elaborate obstacles, and giraffes stand tall in all of their glory that Y/N first dreamed of working with such beautiful animals. To help them, specifically, as she grew up and realized the types of trials and tribulations the circus animals went through in order to perform, was one of her biggest desires. 

Fresh from college equipped with rosy lenses, she believed she could make a difference – but all she found was the revolving door of the hospital, each animal’s case more soul crushing than the next. Abuse, neglect, abandonment; these were the things that kept Y/N staring at her ceiling at night, waiting for sleep that would never come. She couldn’t help but notice the uptick in her anxiety and the dark circles rimming her lower lash line as time wore on, desperate to love her job again. At twenty-four years old, she ultimately came to the conclusion that in order for her to help animals in a way that mattered, she needed some time to sort out her personal feelings. 

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, raking her hand through her hair, “I just don’t know if I can keep this up, John. I’m running on empty and I just can’t shake this feeling – oh, I don’t know – of heartbreak? I just feel like I need time to regroup. I can’t afford to have my personal feelings negatively impact the animals,” she explained, corners of her mouth turning downwards. 

John nodded thoughtfully, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. He was yet to feel this way, and was generally more optimistic than Y/N, but he saw how depleted she had become over the months. She prayed that he would not end up like her; the hospital desperately needed him. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m really going to miss you around here. Hopefully the new exotics vet is just as patient as you are,” he said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder. Y/N appreciated the fact that he didn’t plead her to stay, or press the subject too hard. “Call me when you decide to come back. I’ll be waiting for you with your favorite Starbucks order!” 

With that, Y/N gave John a hearty wave as he pushed his way through the doors to the employee parking lot. She would miss him, certainly, but she had wrestled with taking a leave for months before she decided John was ready to take her place until Dr. Davies could find a full-time replacement. 

She opened up her locker, pulling down the picture of her posing at a cocktail party with her friends Ben, Laura, and Alice, the magazine clipping of Keanu Reeves as John Wick, and her bag of toiletries for when she worked late, shoving all of the items into her canvas tote bag. Simply clearing out the locker made her feel lighter in a way, albeit a tad guilty. She thought about some of the patients she saw regularly, such as the sweet elephant seal she treated at the Boston Aquarium, and felt the guilt rise up in her stomach even more. But she had already decided; she was no help to any creature in her current state. 

Setting off down the hall towards the office where the doctors kept patient files and keys to the pharmacy and lab, Y/N took one last look at the polished linoleum floors, the pastel walls, and unflattering fluorescent lights guiding her way. She knocked twice on the closed door, all of the other staff and techs gone for the day as the rapping sound echoed about the empty clinic. 

“Y/N, I’m assuming that is you? Come on in,” Dr. Davies’ sweet voice called, muffled by the sound of a medical mask. Pushing the door open, Y/N hiked her tote bag up further on her shoulder in determination.

Dr. Davies, or Tia, as she insisted everyone call her, was a kind woman in her mid-forties. She wore purple rectangular glasses and had frizzy graying hair, and looked something akin to an art school aunt. Tia always wore chunky, funky jewelry and colorful scrubs, which she had mentioned “brightened up the place”. 

“So, have you made your final decision?” Tia looked up over her glasses, setting the folder she was holding down on the desk. She stood, smiling fondly at Y/N. Swallowing down even more guilt, Y/N nodded. 

“I’m sorry, Tia. I just feel like I’ve…” Y/N trailed off while looking at the floor, at a loss for words that accurately described her feelings. 

“Hit a wall? Been emotionally drained?” Tia suggested helpfully. Eyes shooting up to meet Tia’s, Y/N’s confidence returned after she registered the understanding look on the doctor’s face. 

“In a way. I still want to help animals, and that will never change. Lately, I feel like I haven’t been able to help enough. In a way that matters. The world is… the world is so awful. To these animals, to humans–”

“–to hybrids?” Tia added encouragingly. 

Hybrids!

“Oh my God. Hybrids! I knew I was forgetting something about my schedule today!” Y/N exclaimed, blood draining from her face. 

“Oh Y/N, I remember you telling me about your plans to go with Ben and Roy to a hybrid shelter this week. Is that today?” Tia rounded the corner of the desk, grasping one of Y/N’ wrists tenderly.

“Uh, yes– it is– Ben is going to kill me. I’m supposed to meet him at Government Center in half an hour. I’m so sorry, this couldn’t have come at a worse time,” Y/N gasped out, furious at herself for forgetting such an important meeting. Her timing never seemed to be perfect. 

“Listen, Y/N, relax. It’s alright, I just wanted to let you know that my old colleague from Chicago has agreed to take your position until you return,” Tia reassuringly squeezed her wrist. “Or, if you return,” she added, a twinkle of some kind of knowing in her eye. 

“Oh, that’s such good news,” Y/N exhaled, thrilled Tia could find a replacement so quickly, a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

“I have no doubt that you will continue to help animals, you’re like me in that way. You’re young, and like me, you may have to take time to truly figure out where you fit in to make the best difference,” Tia continued, a warm feeling of kinship spreading through Y/N. 

“Tia,” Y/N mumbled in a watery manner, eyes filling up a little.

“I want you to call me, at least once a month, or whenever you need me. I’m here for you. Besides, knowing you, you’ll come up with some new venture that I absolutely need to be a part of. I’ll lend any knowledge I can,” Tia released Y/N’s wrist, opening her arms for an embrace. Now, Y/N truly had tears running down her face, burying it in Tia’s shoulder. 

“Now, get going! If you want to make it to Government Center in thirty minutes, I suggest you run the yellow lights,” Tia released her, winking. Y/N wiped a stray tear from her cheek, squaring her shoulders. 

“Thank you, Tia, for everything. I’ll call you,” Y/N affirmed, taking one more look at the kind doctor. She hurried from the office, the newfound source of anxiety of being late quickening her step to her car. 

As she launched out of the clinic, she took a deep breath in, the air free from the scent of rubbing alcohol and pet fur. While Boston city air was certainly tainted with cigarette smoke and exhaust, the light perfume of black-eyed susans studded along sidewalks filtered through pleasantly. Invigorating her, she squashed down the dread of her evening plans. 

While Y/N was well-versed in the subject of the animal kingdom, hybrids were always a source of puzzlement to her. Hybrids, a part of modern life long before her birth, were created specifically for human enjoyment in large labs, factories, and even dilapidated basement operations. When her parents were in their twenties, the price to own your own hybrid was an astronomical fee, and only the elite were photographed with hybrid companions at fundraisers and derbies. 

As the “wheel of progress” turned, hybrids spliced with large animal DNA became workhorses in many parts of the industrial USA. Hybrids working on logging plants, mining, and even construction, was faster and cheaper labor than hiring humans – an abysmal fact. In more recent times, almost anybody could adopt a hybrid, for better or for worse. Of course, the nasty sort of animal abuser found even more enjoyment tormenting a hybrid, one who could potentially fight back and feel human fear. God-wealthy “hunters for sport” lined up at fancy hybrid shelters to pick out bear and prey hybrids for their sick hobby, according to recent news headlines. 

For the most part, Y/N avoided the topic of hybrids. Although her family had money, there was never a hybrid within their home. This, she did consider odd, simply due to the fact that a large part of her family’s wealth came from her father’s revolutionary studies and practices on hybrid heart surgeries as a cardiologist. He had treated thousands of hybrids and truly cared for them, in a similar way that Y/N cared for her exotics. Her mother, on the other hand, loved hybrids, and even ran a bookclub out of the library she worked at specifically for adopted hybrids. 

Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated her relationship with the beings, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited out a red light. The radio murmured about the weather comfortingly, however, she could still feel the nervousness eating away at her stomach. It’s not like she had never talked to a hybrid, plenty of her parent’s friends had one or two. However, she couldn’t ever shake the feeling that like actual animals, hybrids could sense things about her that humans could not. In an all-knowing, exposing way. 

She blasted through the last yellow light, spotting the bright gold kettle that served as a giant Starbucks sign next to Government Center, and miraculously found a street parking spot nearby. Y/N was only ten minutes late, but in Ben’s mind, she might as well have been an hour late. Taking a quick peak in her rearview mirror, she pinched her cheeks to bring some life back into her complexion, ruffled her hair, and hastily shoved her wallet and keys into the pocket of her lavender scrubs. 

The sun was starting to set as she scuttled towards the entrance of Government Center, dreading the humidity and musty smell of the MBTA station. Ben and Roy told her to meet them inside of the station, where the couple met after Roy’s office hours. Stumbling over a cobblestone in her clunky clogs she wore to work, she cursed loudly as a pack of college students giggled at her outside of the Starbucks. Giving them a passionate Boston-style middle finger, she straightened up when she heard her name. 

“Y/N! Jesus Christ, over here!” Ben’s sharp voice cut through the Friday night rush hour traffic. Whirling around, she noticed Ben’s perfectly coiffed head of red hair, one of his Gucci loafers tapping the sidewalk impatiently. Behind him, sitting sheepishly on a fountain ledge, was his fiance, Roy. Y/N all but ran over to the two of them. 

“Shit– I’m so sorry I’m late– I got caught up in surgery and had to talk to my boss about the leave, plus the traffic, I swear, these Emerson students walk into the street on purpose,” Y/N heaved, right hand clutching her pounding heart. Roy chuckled lightly as he stood from his perch, hand smoothing over the back of Ben’s tweed suit. 

“I texted you this morning to remind you about tonight! Scatterbrain,” Ben scolded, his annoyance tempered by Roy’s gentle hand. Y/N always thought Roy was the best thing to ever happen to Ben. 

Ben Alpin was Y/N’s childhood neighbor, and although he was four years older, they were attached at the hip all throughout their youth. Ben was an amazing friend to have growing up; he was outgoing and sharp of tongue, always protective like an older brother. Considering Y/N had no siblings, Ben was the closest to one she ever had. They had gone to separate high schools, where Ben had flourished in leadership programs and dominated student council. He had always jokingly said that “money was his dream”, but Y/N knew that what he really wanted was to be a leader of some kind. He had eventually gone to Harvard Law, and was now a successful business lawyer. So successful, he was able to afford a brownstone on Beacon Hill – in the end, Y/N supposed he did indeed achieve his dream of money. 

Ben had met Roy Heath at Harvard post-grad, Roy being a new professor of architecture attending a leadership seminar Ben was hosting at the university. As far as personality, the two balanced each other out so well it was almost cosmic. Incredibly patient, calm, and easy-mannered, Roy could de-escalate a classic Ben meltdown in seconds. Y/N adored Roy, he had become a dear friend to her almost as quickly as he entered her life. He often helped her work on her house on the weekends, which offered her not only someone to reach high areas of the ceilings with a paintbrush, but a grounding presence to bask in. The two planned on getting married in less than a year, after Roy published his current thesis. 

“I know, I know… I even replied to your message! Just goes to show how absolutely fried I am these days,” Y/N complained, smacking her face against Ben’s chest and squeezing his midsection until he wheezed. Patting her back, she felt his chest rumble in amusement, surprisingly not as angry as she thought he’d be for her tardiness. 

“It’s okay, Y/N, you were barely even ten minutes late. I doubt ten minutes will determine whether or not there’s a hybrid for us,” Roy reassured her, stooping low to give her a brief hug after she let go of Ben. The latter scoffed, intertwining his fingers with Roy’s, before rolling his blue eyes. “I found three shelters online the past few months, so we’ll see which one is lucky.”

“Don’t forget that seedy one over in Downtown Crossing. That’s our last resort,” Ben added. Ben, ever the realist, had been forwarding articles about hybrid scarcity to Y/N for the last six months. For some reason, the supply of hybrids could not keep up with the growing demand of those who wish to adopt. Y/N suspected the worst – sport hunting was growing in popularity. She did not vocalize her opinion to the couple. 

“Let’s get going. The first one is right up the street by that sucky Irish pub,” Ben declared, pushing a graying-brown curl behind Roy’s ear affectionately. They were nauseatingly adorable, Y/N thought. 

Setting off, Y/N told the two all about how she asked for her leave, what she planned on doing while she had time off, and of course, her house. Stopping at a crosswalk, Ben looked at her inquisitively. 

“So, any luck finding roommates for that big old creepy house of yours?” He asked, an eyebrow arching up into his hairline at the absurdity. Y/N pouted, yet another situation she found kept her awake at night. 

Her maternal grandparents, the very same ones that took her yearly to the circus as a kid, lived in a gorgeous Stick Style Victorian manor outside of Boston when she was growing up. It had been in her family for generations, built in the 1860’s for some wealthy judge and his wife. Y/N loved the house more than anything, its hundreds of nooks, crannies, passageways, and secrets made her giddy like a child every time she went home. She had moved into the home after college, when her grandparents became too old to live on their own. They lived with her mother and father down the street, but Y/N couldn’t bear to leave the beautiful Victorian empty. The house itself would have been part of her inheritance, so she figured why not move in immediately after college?

What she didn’t realize was that her grandmother was a bit of an antiques hoarder, and her grandfather didn’t like to “fix what ain’t broke”. Meaning, the last time the place had any kind of repairs or facelifting was in the sixties. Y/N had her work cut out for her between scraping linoleum off of the kitchen floor and managing the several acres of trails and gardens on the property. Additionally, the place was gigantic – with 10 bedrooms, she could have a convent of nuns move in with her. It was this reason, (certainly not the fact that she could really use someone who could operate a ride-on lawnmower) that she had been asking around her pool of friends if they were looking for a place to live. She hadn’t found any luck. 

“Don’t remind me of that. Seriously, my head’s going to explode. I’ve been asking around for months, I’ve even told people they could pay me three walnuts to live there,” Y/N groaned, following the couple across the street. Roy was practically pissing his pants, face red with glee. 

“You know, Y/N Roy spends enough time there hauling out your grandma’s chair collection, he should move in.”

“Hey! Working on that house is hands-on experience for me. It’s not very often architects get to work freely on a Victorian,” Roy nudged Ben with his shoulder, having to lean down six inches. The sight made Y/N snort. 

“I’m just going to throw in the towel. Maybe I’ll get five cats and they can have the run of the place,” Y/N said thoughtfully. At least with cats, she wouldn’t have to worry about a roommate filling her old home with modern Ikea decor. 

“Oh, yeah, really solidify your granny status with that. Sexy,” Ben teased, head craning backwards to give her a cheeky grin. She stuck her tongue out at him, pointing beyond his nose to the sign in front of him reading Hattie’s Hybrids. 

“Okay! This is the first one, let’s all say a quick prayer to whoever’s listening… Oh, I’m so excited, Ben,” Roy was practically bouncing, the perfect picture of an excited father. Or, potentially soon-to-be father. 

Roy’s excitement was short-lived. Pulling on the door handle, Ben realized the shop was locked up. Cupping his hands and pressing his face into the window, he frowned. 

“The lights are on, but the place looks deserted! I swear, I checked the hours online and they’re supposed to be open,” Ben exclaimed, puzzled. 

“Right here, honey,” Roy sighed, tapping a taped-up sign on the window.

We do not have any hybrids at this time. Please check back in the upcoming weeks.

“What?” Ben’s voice pitched upwards, scanning the paper. “Great. The next shelter is three blocks away. I’m going to need a drink.”

“After we check out the next two shelters,” Y/N warned, knowing how rowdy Ben could get on a Friday night bar crawl. Ben shook his hand twice, yeah, yeah, before following Roy down the sidewalk to the next location. Feeling a touch of exasperation that Hattie’s Hybrids couldn’t save her from a whole night of traipsing around the city, she closely tailed her friends in search of the next place. 

“Fuck! I needed that,” Ben slammed his shot glass down on the crumbling wooden bar, holding up his finger to the bartender to leave the bottle of tequila behind. 

The next two shelters Roy had found were similarly locked up and deserted, which caused Ben to fly into pissed-lawyer mode. 

“How do these people even make money? I can’t understand why there doesn’t seem to be a single shelter in the city of Boston with hybrids. Where are they all?” He continued, pouring himself another shot. Roy looked discouraged, nursing a Budweiser and rubbing slow circles along Ben’s lower back. 

Y/N was similarly distressed. It was getting late, she had been in surgery most of the day, and all she wanted was to crawl into her bed. Instead, she found herself slumping around the humid city, already buzzed off of a stiff gin martini, like she was in grad school again. Mostly, she felt bad for her friends – all they wanted was to have a family together. Swirling an olive around in her glass, she hummed. 

“So I take it, we're off to the ‘seedy’ place,” Y/N encouraged, taking the last sip of her martini. They had ended up in a bar in Downtown Crossing anyways, so at least she wouldn’t have to walk up the hill towards the State House again. Ben grunted.

“Please. If those three places were shut down, I doubt the last resort is harboring a miracle. We’ll go for shits and giggles, the hot dog cart is by there anyways. I’ll have to do more research before we find our little one, Roy…” Ben trailed off sadly, downing his third shot with a shake of the head. 

“It’s alright, honey, we’ll do it together,” Roy affirmed, a sweet smile spreading across his face. Y/N felt her martini rise in her throat at the purity of it all. 

Slapping down a fistfull of cash, Ben rose from his stool, rolling his shoulders back. 

“Come on, granny, last stop before you can race back to the Haunted Mansion,” Ben helped Y/N up from her seat, leading her to the exit. 

The last shelter was less than a block away from the bar. Ben swore when the hot dog cart seemed to have shut down for the day. Roy was busy gaping at the flickering lightbulb outside of the last shelter, which had a chipping sign that simply read HYBRIDS. The door was propped open with a wooden block, the lights were on, and there was a man hunched over a cellphone at the front of a store. 

“Holy–” Roy clamped a hand over Ben’s mouth, probably trying to save him from a bad first impression. Y/N was just as floored as her friend, staring dumbly at the shabby storefront, barely registering Roy pushing Ben into the shelter. Scrambling after them, Y/N entered the building. 

The place was entirely gray. The walls, the tin desk with an ancient register, the old guidebooks lining dusty shelves, all radiated a depressing emotion. Even the man behind the desk, still watching a noisy pre-season Patriots game, had dull gray hair and a sagging complexion. Stifling a smirk at how out of place ritzy Ben looked, Y/N pressed a hand over her mouth as she sifted through a rack of hybrid-specific clothes that were about as old as she was. Roy cleared his throat, standing before the desk, Ben uncharacteristically silent as the man grumbled with annoyance, peering up at the three of them. 

Setting his phone down, the man stood arthritically before painting on a customer-service smile. 

“And how can I help youse today?” Y/N nearly snickered at the man’s Quincey accent, alcohol making her a little giddy, until she realized this man just might be the saving grace of her Friday night. “We’re havin’ a sale on them jeans over there,” the man pointed to the rack Y/N had steadied herself on.

“Uh, okay, good to know. Actually, we’re here to potentially adopt, if you have any hybrids available, that is,” Roy took the lead, Ben’s eyes glazed over as he stared at a cobweb on the ceiling. The man made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat, grabbing a key ring from the desk drawer. 

“Got just one, follow me,” the man motioned to them with a finger, unlocking the door at the back of the shop behind a shelf of books. Roy looked a bit disheartened, the chances of the lone hybrid at the shelter being a child slim to none. The trio stepped through the threshold anyways, the back room filled with what could only be compared to empty jail cells sans doors, the scent of cleaning products heavy in the air. Y/N was shocked by Ben’s continued silence, analyzing his stony expression as they reached the back of the room. There was a slim hallway to Y/N’s right, dimly lit, but they did not go down that way.

“Got this one in about two hours ago. She’s the smallest of her siblings, apparently… too hyper for them fancy shelter’s customers, or so’s I’ve been told by the person who dropped her ‘ere. Name’s Daisy, up-to-date on her doctor’s visits, guaranteed,” the shopkeeper rattled off, scratching the back of his head. He stepped to the side, allowing Ben and Roy to peer into the chamber Daisy was in. 

Sat on the little bed in the corner, engrossed in a colorful picture book, was a little girl about four years old. She had beautiful white blonde hair, long white lop ears sprouting from her crown, and was wearing a sundress with strawberries on it. She looked very well taken care of, a teddy bear clamped under her arm and hair neatly brushed. One of her ears twitched at the sound of the man’s voice, large chocolate eyes darting upwards. A tiny, toothy grin stretched across her precious face as she jumped up from the bed, book clattering to the floor. 

“Oh my gosh!” Ben gasped delightedly, the little bunny hybrid gathering a fistfull of his pant leg. Y/N was flabbergasted at the sight of such an angelic little girl in such a drab, depressing place. How in the hell did nobody adopt her?

“Hi! Hi, you’re here! They’re loud…” Daisy practically vibrated with energy, shaking the material of Ben’s pant leg excitedly. Her eyes darted down the narrow hallway Y/N had spotted moments before, one of Daisy’s ears lifting in that direction. 

“She’s beautiful! I can’t believe it – we were looking for a child just like her! Ben, what do you think?” Roy was so happy, his face was entirely pink as he bent down to say hello. The hybrid seemed to not have an ounce of shyness in her body, thrusting her teddy bear into Roy’s hand and telling him the bear’s name. 

“I think that this place was harboring a miracle after all,” Ben said in a disbelieving tone, simply glowing at Roy and Daisy’s interactions. She was chattering on about her morning, what she wanted to eat for dinner, and her new book. 

“I don’ think she’ll be here for very long,” the shopkeeper called from next to Y/N. He looked like he was aching to get back to his Patriots game. “If you wanna adopt, I suggest you do it tonight.”

“What breed is she? How old, and how much, and where do we sign?” Ben asked rapidly, blushing furiously as Roy picked Daisy up when she stretched her arms out to be held. Y/N could hardly believe the events unfolding in front of her; she knew that the couple was prepared to adopt that very night, but she was sure they wouldn’t be able to find what they were looking for right away. Suddenly, she felt like she was intruding on a private moment, no matter how close she was to Ben and Roy. 

“Uh…” the man pulled his eyebrows together, checking a clipboard velcroed to the wall. “She just turned four. Lionhead rabbit, the fancy Latin name ‘ere too if you want it. Adoption fee for her…” looking thoughtfully at Ben’s Gucci loafers, the man smirked. Y/N turned away, feeling ill from her martini, stalking off slightly down the mysterious hallway. “... $2,500. I’ll print up them papers in the office.”

Slinking down the short hallway, Y/N took a deep breath. Daisy was like a gift from some cosmic entity, and it almost seemed too good to be true. She felt warmth spread through her chest as she thought about the spare room in Ben’s townhouse, already decked to the nines with children’s toys and furniture. Daisy would want for nothing, and it was as if Ben and Roy had already fallen in love with her. Dragging her fingertips along the cinder block walls, she made a surprised sound at the heavy metal door a few feet away from her. Further down the hall, there was a normal wooden door left ajar, an office, from the looks of it. Humming, she turned her attention to the safe-like door, a big red sign nailed to the left of it. The sign read: Exotics and Aggressives - Do Not Enter. 

Now that sign certainly caught her attention – all she had to read was Exotics before a happy sensation flooded through her. Giddy, she began to rise on her tiptoes to peek through the small square window of the door, when she heard a throat clear behind her. Startled, she whipped around, guilt painting her features as the shopkeeper eyed her suspiciously. 

“I wouldn’ get too close to them, if I were you, young lady,” the man said, hands on his hips. “They’ll take off your arm in a second.”

Arching an eyebrow, Y/N’s curiosity was piqued even more with this statement. The man sighed, pointing at the window. 

“Go ahead, take a look. They’re all vicious, the jaguar bastard bit me yesterday,” he muttered, tenderly rubbing a bandage on his left forearm. Staring at the man, as if to decipher if he was egging her on or not, Y/N turned back to the window, finally peering in. 

The room was large, but all divided by iron bars, like giant cages they would keep big animals in at the clinic. At first, she had to squint to see anything other than iron, but then she let out a startled gasp as her eyes focused. 

She counted four hybrids, fully shifted into their animal forms. First, her sight landed on a gorgeous, albeit underweight, leopard, laying on its side, asleep. In the cell next to it was what appeared to be a coyote, turned away from the door and shaking like a leaf in the corner. 

“My God,” Y/N whispered, taking in the third animal, a black jaguar, most likely the one that had bitten the shopkeeper. It was asleep, breathing labored, as blood oozed from a jagged cut on his side. 

Anger welled up inside of her, beginning to turn to the shopkeeper in wrath, before her breath was cut off by the sight of the final animal she could see: the biggest Northwestern wolf she had ever seen, and it was staring right back at her. Undoubtedly a male, the wolf’s amber eyes bored into hers, ears swiveling forward in alert and teeth baring immediately. The creature’s expression sent shivers down her spine, even as he was laying down in his cell separated by the heavy door Y/N was pressed against. Unable to tear her gaze away from the wolf, she forgot all about her bed calling her name, about Ben and Roy, and about Daisy. 

“Who are they?” Y/N asked, eventually breaking eye contact with the wolf. Looking at the shopkeeper, who had pulled out his phone to check on the Patriots, didn’t even spare the door a glance. 

“Bunch o’ bastards. We get the unadopted hybrids that are found wandering the streets, the ones that are rejected by other shelters, sometimes from circuses or zoos if they stop doin’ what they’re supposed to,” he replied, sounding bored. He began to walk away, heading towards the office, when Y/N pulled herself away from the door to urgently grab his wrist. 

“Wait! I– oh,” she let go of his wrist, blushing in embarrassment. “What’s going to happen to them?” Y/N asked, fearing the worst. The man scoffed, beginning to get annoyed with her questions. 

“Listen, lady, I’ve got a guy from Manhattan coming in tomorrow morning to pick up them animals. He’s offering seven G’s for all seven of em’... for hunting or something, I don’ really care what for. It’s payday tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to send that rabbit on her way with your buddies so I can finish the game in peace,” with that, the man stalked to the office, muttering something about “women”, the sound of a stuttering printer filling the hallway. 

Affronted, Y/N felt her heart begin to race, thinking about the beautiful leopard being hunted down, and the chances of the injured jaguar living past tomorrow evening. Feeling more ill than ever, the disgust for the world she lived in infiltrated every cell of her body. She peeked back into the room once more, immediately searching for the other three animals, but could not strain her eyesight into the far hidden corners of the room. A pained wheeze came from the jaguar, tail limply beating the floor. She looked at the wolf again, but to her surprise, he had turned around from her view and curled himself into a ball. Her heart sank, palms sliding down the door. If she didn’t feel powerless to help animals before, she certainly did at that moment. 

“Y/N? Where did you go?” Roy inquired, voice raised. She blinked rapidly, ears picking up Daisy’s childish giggle, and huffed sadly for the seven hybrids behind the locked door. While her heart was breaking for them, she wouldn’t allow herself to dampen her friend’s spirits on such a wonderful night for the two of them. 

She stiffened as the shopkeeper brushed past her, a packet in hand, grumbling in her direction. Curling her lip up in a snarl of disgust, she begrudgingly followed him, glancing at the metal door once more. 

“The papers. Let’s sign em’ up front, come on, now,” the shopkeeper grunted, stepping into the light of the main hybrid holding room. Roy still had Daisy on his hip, his face confused as it landed on Y/N. She brightened up in the best way that she could, smiling sweetly at Daisy, who had begun to sleepily nod her head against Roy’s shoulder. Ben held her teddy bear and picture book, pacing around the space she was in as if to check for any other of her belongings. 

“Sorry, guys! I had to run to the bathroom in the back,” Y/N lied, watching the shopkeeper carefully to see if he would rat her out. He rolled his eyes disinterestedly, already making his way to the storefront. Roy easily bought the lie, trusting and easygoing, face dissolving into understanding. She felt rotten about the deception, but she would feel even worse if she robbed her friends of the happy glow around them with the news of the exotic hybrids only feet away. 

Ben straightened up from where he was crouched over by the bed Daisy had been sitting on, face a touch melancholy. 

“Honey, is this all that you brought with you?” Ben asked Daisy, brushing a strand of hair away from her cherubic face. She cracked an eye open, peering at Ben’s outstretched hands holding her teddy bear and book. Nodding twice, she buried her face into Roy’s neck, sleep threatening to pull her under. Ben tutted, a look of adoration on his face. 

“I think she likes you, Roy,” Ben whispered with glee. “Let’s go sign the papers and get her home,” Ben took Roy’s free hand, flashing a brilliant smile towards Y/N, face clear of all stress from earlier. She trailed after the new family, no longer filled with exhaustion from her eventful day, but instead was consumed with cyclical thoughts. 

She felt dazed as she watched Ben smoothly sign his name on the papers, eagerly pushing them towards Roy once he finished, nearly tossing the packet off of the tin desk. The shopkeeper went back to his game on his phone, yawning, as Ben excitedly joined Y/N at the front of the store. 

“Can you believe it? Y/N, what are the chances?” Ben gushed, fingers fumbling along the bookshelf stocked with the hybrid guidebooks. Digits dancing along the spines, he carefully selected one while scratching his close-cut beard thoughtfully. The book was specific to hybrid children. 

“I can’t believe it. I also can’t believe it’s this easy to adopt – I mean, there’s no interview? Or background check?” With this statement, Ben turned to look at her curiously.

“Well, I know that the other shelters have at least one quick interview, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Ben said slowly, sensing something off about Y/N’s countenance. “Besides, look at this place. Sadly, I don’t think Belichick over there is very concerned with who walks out of here with a hybrid. What’s up? Why do you look so upset?” 

Y/N shook her head, spotting a rabbit hybrid booklet and pulling it off the shelf for Ben. Her fingers paused, noticing a thicker book for wolf hybrids a couple of spines over. She snapped out of it, sensing Ben’s probing gaze, and handed him the booklet with a grin. 

“I’m not upset, that martini just made me feel a little sick. I think today has just been a little crazy,” Y/N explained. Ben softened at her response and her offering of the booklet, pulling her into his side tightly. 

“I haven’t thanked you yet for coming along with us today. It means more than you know, having you be here for this,” Ben confessed, squeezing her once. 

“Always,” Y/N replied, tears threatening to fall for the second time that day. He let her go, lifting the books in the air, heading to the register to pay the final fee before they could leave with Daisy. 

“That’ll be $3,000 even – with the tax an’ the books,” The shopkeeper punched numbers into the noisy cash register, cursing as the sport’s broadcaster announced a foul from his phone. Ben handed him his thick black credit card easily, and with the flimsy bag for the books in hand and credit card securely back in his wallet, the four left the dreary shelter without any complications. 

Unlike when Y/N left the clinic earlier in the evening, exiting the shelter and breathing in the nighttime air offered no relief to her current anxiety. Roy was busy ordering a cab for their ride back to their townhouse, carefully shifting the sleeping bunny hybrid on his hip. Ben was busy blathering on about what he should whip up for Daisy’s dinner, or if he should call in some takeout. Y/N tried to steady her breathing, checking her slim wristwatch for the time. It was only 9 PM, but it felt like midnight. She considered leaving her car in the spot seven blocks away in favor of jumping on the Red Line, but wasn’t thrilled about a ticket likely being tucked under her windshield wiper come morning. 

“Guys, I’m gonna get going. My car’s a little ways away, so I should start walking now,” Y/N piped up through Ben’s cooing at sleeping Daisy, both men turning to face her. 

“Do you want me to walk you to your car? I can order another cab for myself after,” Ben offered, ever protective and concerned for her walking alone at night. She shook her head lightly, reaching out to stroke the back of Daisy’s head. She was irresistible and her hair was impossibly soft, and Daisy leaned into the touch even in her sleep. 

“No, no, don’t worry about me. I have a taser and a knife. And my clogs are heavier than they look, for kicking some nuts. You guys should get home as soon as you can, settle her in,” Y/N said slowly, trying her best not to wake the child. Ben looked like he wanted to protest, but was cut off by the pulling up of the cab Roy ordered. Y/N pushed him towards the passenger side door, eager to spend some time thinking on the walk to her car. 

“I’ll call you in the morning to check in, and I’ll even come and stop by tomorrow if you want, and ask my dad to schedule a check-up for Daisy,” Y/N offered, opening the doors for both of them. Roy gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, mouthing a thank you sincerely, carefully maneuvering his way into the backseat. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Text me when you get home,” Ben hugged her once more, folding himself into the passenger seat and closing the door softly. Y/N waved as the cab drove away, waiting until it turned the corner before sparing another glance at the shelter behind her. Brushing a sticky piece of hair from her forehead, humidity pressing down on her, she set off down the street to her car. 

It was close to four in the morning, and Y/N was putting away gin seltzers like it was her new job. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck, the air conditioning units she ordered not to be installed until Monday morning, as she bent on all fours scraping a hideous high-gloss varnish off of the landing on the grand staircase. Sleep evaded her after she arrived home from the shelter, even after a cooling shower and a bite to eat. Instead of tossing and turning in her bed, she decided to get thoroughly drunk, get a chunk of housework done, and pass out watching Ghost Adventures reruns on the couch in the parlor room. 

Wiping sweat from her brow, Y/N leaned back on her knees and let the grip and pull scraper clatter to the floor. She had a metal playlist on, numbing her thoughts, pulsing through her little wireless speaker as she worked. The Tiffany lighting fixtures in the foyer were dim and flickering– they’d have to be replaced soon— making her eyes strain in effort as she fumbled for her drink. Greedily, she gulped down the last few swigs of the botanical liquor from the condensation-coated glass, bobbing her head at the sound of Corey Taylor’s passionate vocals. Metal was one of her favorite genres, the heaviness and noise of it clearing out all intrusive thoughts; and it just sounded so damn good. Feeling too tipsy to continue scraping varnish, she assessed her work. She had gotten half of the staircase stripped, muttering curses about her grandfather’s foolish decision to defile beautiful oak planks with period-inappropriate glossy varnish the whole time she worked. 

Y/N, with the help of her mother and Roy, had made significant progress restoring the mansion for the past two years, but there was still much work to be done. The kitchen and the bedrooms were her first priority, especially when she thought she’d have roommates moving in. Roy had painstakingly gutted and designed a new kitchen for the home, one that would flow well with the old-world charm of the place but with modern comforts. Y/N had fond memories of tossing Budweisers back and forth to him last spring as they peeled lemon yellow wallpaper down from the crumbling 50’s style kitchen. 

The bedrooms weren’t too difficult to restore; some had water damaged ceilings, others had horrifying The Conjuring-esque wallpaper, and a couple were stuffed to the windows with old junk her grandmother collected at antique shops around New England. Grandmother’s antique collection was good for one thing— free furnishings for the home. Her mother even helped her crack open the basement door, leading to a pretty grim, unfinished and wasted space, totally transforming it into another whole bedroom and rec room for art projects or exercising. 

Y/N’s paycheck pretty much went entirely into the home, an amount set aside for food and essentials, but every penny she put into making the home beautiful again was worth it. The bedrooms were stately and comfortable, the kitchen spacious with marble floors and sleek appliances, and most of the unused items her grandmother had held onto that were broken or just plain ugly had been donated. She still had her work cut out for her with the rest of the home and the grounds, but all of the work she had accomplished had turned out beautifully. 

Wobbly, she stood, grasping the railing of the staircase gingerly (considering if she applied pressure, the whole thing might clatter to the floor), empty glass in her free hand and speaker tucked under an armpit. A Deftones song began to play, making her giggle in delight, descending the steps slowly to avoid scuffing her hours of work. It was a challenge, considering the low lighting. 

Traipsing through the hallway past the parlor and dining room, she reached the kitchen, lit up beautifully with brand-new stained glass fixtures. Roy’s work took her breath away every time she enjoyed a cup of coffee in the refurbished breakfast nook, and even tipsy she had to pause and admire the space. Setting the speaker down on the island, Y/N yanked the fridge open for more seltzer and gin, swaying her body to the gnashing guitar. She swore that this would be her last drink, collapsing heavily on a barstool at the island, mixing her drink sloppily and taking a hearty gulp. Cutting through the music, the grandfather clock in the hallway clanged noisily, scaring the wits out of her. Suddenly, she was aware how alone she was on a Friday night, drinking at four in the morning and tip-toeing around the house like there was a ghost about to pop out of the dining room.

Glancing around, she began to feel unease, noticing all of the space around her and how empty it truly was. It was a shame, really, that a large family wasn’t taking up the ample space, but she had always planned on either having one herself or substituting family for roommates. At times, when she was by herself in the home, she felt lonelier and more on edge than ever. It’s not that she was exactly afraid of ghosts, but it was an old home and she had watched many horror movies that involved a single woman in a creepy house.

Staring deeply into her glass, her mind went to the place she prayed it wouldn’t – to the seven hybrids left at the shelter. A sharp pang of sadness shot through her like a bolt of lightning, the glass loosening in her grip as she straightened up in her seat, music suddenly making her head pound uncomfortably. Slapping the off button on the speaker aggressively, she groaned loudly, the sound echoing throughout the hollow halls of the house. Fisting her hands through her hair, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. 

Come morning, when she would peel herself out of bed and cradle an AlkaSeltzer to her chest in the bathtub, those seven hybrids would likely be loaded into some kind of horse trailer to their imminent doom. Chased, hunted, humiliated and killed, all for sick enjoyment. She felt booze crawl up her throat, foolishly washing it down with another sip of the same poison. Perhaps a few of them would get away, but perhaps not. And the ones who didn’t, maybe the injured jaguar or the malnourished leopard, what would become of them after their deaths? Would they be left in the woods, would they be stripped of their coats? Blood rushed to her face, heating up her entire body with the beginnings of a panic attack. 

“Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?” Y/N exclaimed, standing suddenly. She began to pace around the kitchen, calming herself in the best way she could for her panic. The thought of the hybrids dying became unbearable, even if she hadn’t even seen the other three that were tucked in the corners of that dark back room. Practically tearing her hair out, she stared out the glass door to the backyard patio, full moon illuminating the foliage. Without thinking, she tossed on her light denim jacket she’d left hanging on an old hatstand, and hurried out into the backyard. 

Crickets chirped as she sucked a deep breath in of cool nighttime air, collapsing on one of the lounge chairs near the door. Counting her breaths as she focused on the hazy stars in the sky, gentle wind rustled the willows beyond the pavingstones of the patio. Familiarly, her fingers dove into the pocket of her jacket, finding the lighter and carton of menthols her cousin had smuggled to her from Rhode Island. It wasn’t a healthy habit, but Y/N had carried on the drunk distress cigarette tradition she had picked up with her friends in college whenever she felt the urge. It was a small rebellion. 

Flicking the lighter, cigarette balanced between her lips, she took a cathartic drag, closing her eyes as she exhaled. She felt a calming, minty sensation blanket her immediately, the sounds of nature refocusing her thoughts. Smoke curled and danced in the air, and she tried to make out shapes in the forms. Humming, she craned her neck backwards, taking in the imposing height of her house, and froze with the cigarette dangerously hanging from her mouth.

The mansion had 10 bedrooms. It had a small guesthouse that needed some work, a library room, numerous nooks and plenty of bathrooms. Vast grounds with trails, gardens, and water. A kitchen for a family on TLC reality show, multiple lounge rooms, two towers, even. Y/N had plenty of space, plenty of loneliness, and money.

An idea so crazy enough for her to flinch to a stand, knocking the cushion off of the lounge chair, struck her like a freight train. She could adopt all seven of the hybrids. Laughing, a sound that was akin to Gollum from the absurdity of the thought, she stuck the cigarette into the ancient outdoor ashtray. If she was a touch more sober and sane, she’d take a couple Benadryl and sleep her fantastical thoughts away. 

Marching out to the yard, she took a better look at the house in the moonlight. Only her bedroom, the kitchen, and the foyer she was working in less than a half hour ago was illuminated. Y/N imagined the whole house lit merrily, string lights on the patio twinkling with use and the picnic tables set for a beautiful summer cookout. The image in her mind almost tore a sob through her chest, because that was what the house was always for; for family and celebration of life. 

Ben had always teased Y/N for lacking the logical mind of someone who was a medical professional. Y/N had always chalked it up to her hippie mother and her fantastical side of the family, straight out of Practical Magic. If Ben was there at that moment, he probably would have forced her into the shower with her clothes on to sober up. 

Sober or not, Y/N figured that she would have dreamed up this solution in a cold-sweat that night in bed. As soon as she had the thought of having people to come home to, the house warm with life, her mind was made up. Besides, she couldn’t let them suffer so terribly at the hands of some hedge fund manager’s trigger happy son, it went against her very oath she swore to help creatures of any kind. Hurriedly, she made her way back into the house, switching on her coffee maker, and made a beeline for her bathroom to freshen up.

Y/N was still chuckling to herself, bumbling down the hallway to the master bedroom in a gleeful manner. She’d already come up with a plan to undermine the Manhattan man’s plans to take the hybrids away, and it was so delicious, she could hardly believe she came up with it four gin seltzers in. 

Her bathroom was still outfitted with fixtures from her grandparent’s heyday, the bathtub, toilet, and sink all an off-putting swamp green, but even that couldn’t dampen her spirits. Scrubbing her teeth violently, she used her other hand to shimmy out of her “restoration sweatpants”, nearly toppling over in the effort. After splashing cold water on her face and spritzing some body spray from her head to toe, Y/N raced into her bedroom, rummaging through her dresser for a pair of linen pants and a clean tee shirt, throwing everything on and checking the time on her illuminated alarm clock. It was now almost five, and she would need to leave as quickly as possible to get to the shelter as soon as it opened. 

She guessed that dealing in cash would be more tempting to the greedy shopkeeper, and she was prepared to hand over a significant sum. Her grandfather kept a three-foot tall safe in the master closet for his coin collection, and it was there that Y/N kept cash for everything from buying period appropriate curtains at some Jamaica Plain estate sale to unlikely hostage situations. Turning the lock combo with urgency, she cracked the safe open, grabbing a stack of bills from the top shelf, and slammed it shut. She tucked the band of bills into her tote bag, dangling from the post of her bed, and left the bedroom swiftly. 

Returning to the kitchen, Y/N filled the largest to-go coffee cup she had with the piping hot coffee she had brewed, burning her throat by finishing what was left in the carafe. Thankfully, the drinks she had consumed were spaced out enough so she wasn’t drunk, just tipsy, something she could get rid of quickly with the coffee and adrenaline she had running through her veins. Besides, she had about two hours to completely sober up and find her way to the shelter. She pulled up the app to order a cab to the shelter, not irresponsible enough to drive in her condition, and turned off all the lights in the kitchen on her way out. 

Stepping out the front door, Y/N locked the heavy deadbolt and ran down the steps of the porch, latching the gate at the front of the property when she reached it. The sky was still dark, but a little greyer with the slowly rising sun, and the mansion looked dreary and deserted. Smiling wistfully, she supposed this would be the last time she would see it look so sad. 

Y/N waited on the curb for her cab, sucking down scalding coffee with her tote bag on her lap. She felt like she was carrying a Fabergé egg, the stack of $100’s laying heavily in her lap through the canvas bag. A little voice in her head told her she was absolutely nuts for what she was about to go through with, but she ignored it entirely. 

What she had wanted all along was to have some kinship; especially with her friend’s lives going off in different directions. She knew that Ben and Roy would always be with her, but with the adoption of Daisy, they would have their hands full settling her in and raising her as a family. Laura was busy with her own young family, and Alice had her cat and full-time job at the newspaper. Everyone seemed to have something they could go home to, and Y/N wanted that, too. Additionally, without her job, she had ample time to care for the hybrids, to fill the hours with friendship rather than longing. She was not oblivious to the challenges that would come with the adoptions, considering the shopkeeper had mentioned the hybrids weren’t exactly friendly, but Y/N was prepared to handle all of the hiccups in order to give them a safe home. 

The cab she ordered rolled down her sleepy street, headlights cutting through the oppressive humidity. Jumping up from her perch on the curb, she jogged to the passenger’s side and crawled into the car. Buckling in as the young man pulled away from the end of her driveway, she took another swig of her coffee and felt the remaining alcohol haze slip from her body like a spirit. Y/N’s heart was racing, the whirlwind of events and lack of sleep making her feel like a floating head. Even so, she knew that her mind was made up, despite the fact that she hadn’t even met the hybrids yet. Thankfully, the young man driving her to the shelter only exchanged a “good morning” with her before following his navigation into the city, leaving her to eagerly go over her “plan”.

The cab dropped Y/N off right in front of the shelter, which was to open any moment. She bounced on her heels, scanning the sidewalks for anyone dressed in a suit or hunting gear waiting nearby. The shopkeeper hadn’t mentioned what time exactly the Manhattan man was to pick up the hybrids, however, Y/N wanted to beat him to the punch as soon as the shop opened. Sneaking a peek into the window, she noticed the same man from the night before counting the register serenely. Before she could stop herself, she began to knock on the glass, making the man jump a foot into the air in surprise. Registering Y/N’s face with great surprise (and annoyance), he ambled to the door and turned the lock. 

“Now, why’re you here? Tell your buddies I don’t do refunds,” he threatened, looking Y/N up and down. She imagined her appearance, purplish dark circles from her all-nighter, holey Black Sabbath tee, and hair wild with frizz. Likely, she looked like an undergrad student the night before a final exam. Y/N pulled the door open determinedly. 

“I want to adopt those hybrids in that back room,” Y/N blurted out, the shopkeeper’s mouth hanging open in shock. 

“What? Lady, are you insane?” The man sputtered, hobbling after Y/N as she marched to the door leading to the back. 

“All seven of them. I’m prepared to adopt them all, now,” Y/N confirmed, arms crossed as she waited for him to unlock the back door. The man looked angered, hands on hips. 

“So, you are nuts. Didn’ I tell you I got that guy from Manhattan picking them up today? He’ll be here in an hour or so,” The man made no motion to open the door, leaning against the register and wiping limp gray hair from his eyes. 

Frustrated that she was not being taken seriously, Y/N reached into her bag, slamming the band of bills on the counter. The shopkeeper swore colorfully, flinching away from the large stack before grasping for it. 

“That’s $70,000, count it. I’d like to adopt those hybrids. All of them,” Y/N enunciated. Her plan had unfolded; making a counter offer to the Manhattan man, way too tempting to refuse. 

“Holy shit. I don’t care if you’re crazy, lady, you’ve got ‘em,” the man wheezed, already leafing through the stack of money greedily. “Never liked pricks from New York anyways,” he mumbled, a greasy smile spreading across his face. 

Tucking the bills in his back pocket, Y/N stepped aside impatiently as he unlocked the back door and led her to the slim hallway. The room was unchanged from just a few hours ago, the scent of Clorox even stronger. She was relieved that the shopkeeper had taken the money – there was no backing out now, and there was no chance of the hybrids being shipped away to their doom. 

“So, how do you wanna do this?” The shopkeeper asked, the two of them standing before the metal door to the hybrids. Freezing, Y/N stood still like a statue; she hadn’t thought that far. How would she get the hybrids home without a bus of some kind? What if they didn’t want to come with her, or didn’t like her? She didn’t even know their names, ages, or gender. Feeling a little silly, she hoped that her generous payment for the hybrids would butter up the shopkeeper enough to help her out with logistics.

Normally, people prepare for an adoption of a hybrid; including reading up on their habits and behaviors, buying a suitable wardrobe, and making sure the pantry is filled with foods for them to enjoy. Y/N had gone off half-cocked, and all she could offer the hybrids was shelter and their pick of a bedroom, for now. Their personalities might clash, they might reject her completely, and it would be hard for the hybrids to trust her right off the cuff. Not to mention, the hybrids were completely shifted to their animal form, and it was unlikely they even had a single set of clothes with them. Unlike Daisy, Y/N didn’t think they’d have books or pretty sandals that they’d be ready to walk out the door with. The thought formed a pit in her stomach, but she couldn’t be too upset with herself. The opportunity came as quickly as a summer storm, and she would not have been able to prepare for seven whole individuals in seven days — let alone in 12 hours.

“I suppose I should meet them first,” Y/N offered, wringing her hands. The light was off in the room, so she wasn’t able to see through the window on the door. “As for transportation, I’m not quite sure…” she trailed off, trying her best to look in need of assistance.

“You’ll probably have to make a couple of trips. Some of ‘em don’t get along, so start with the ones that don’t gnash their teeth at you. I got a buddy with a van I can give a call,” perfectly pleasant now, the man even gave her a toothy smile, using his comically large key ring to unlatch the deadbolt of the door. “My name’s Gerry, by the way.”

Putting a hand up to stop Gerry for a moment, she looked at him sternly. 

“Why is the jaguar injured?” She demanded, giving his bandaged wound a pointed look. Gerry followed her gaze, scoffing. 

“That wasn’t me, swear. Damaged goods aren’t good for business. He was dumped ‘ere that way,” Gerry replied, pushing on the door. Y/N was appalled, about to ask for more information, but Gerry had already begun to push the door open.

 The door gave a deafening groan, which was followed by a series of feline hisses and deep grunts of an animal Y/N couldn’t place. Squaring her shoulders, Y/N followed Gerry into the room, his fingers fumbling for the lightswitch and flooding the room with fluorescence. Her eyes adjusted for a split second, blinking rapidly as they darted around the room.

The hybrids were still shifted. She caught sight of the jaguar, first, side still injured and lying in the same position he was when Y/N spotted him the night before. The coyote was curled up on its cot, blearily eyeing her and the shopkeeper, and the underweight leopard in the cell next to it was sitting closely to the bars separating them all, staring right at Y/N. 

Standing a bit taller, she turned to get a look at the left hand corner cell she couldn’t see, trying not to look intimidated by the sight of a very large elk. The elk grunted loudly with the eye contact they made, the sound she could not place moments ago identified. Nodding thoughtfully, Y/N swallowed, stepping closer to the right side of the room, where she curiously sought out the remaining three hybrids – the two unidentified, and the wolf.

Her eyes registered the vibrant orange coat of a red fox, head inquisitively cocked at the sudden intrusion of the room. It jumped down from its cot, sticking its twitching nose through the metal bars. She had always loved foxes, and practically squealed upon seeing the perceived friendly action. Gerry backed up slightly, once blocking the furthermost cell on the right, pale in the face. 

“That one… you might need a bus, if he doesn’t shift,” he said weakly, inching towards the hallway. Y/N tore her eyes away from the fox to see what he was referring to, and gasped softly. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, coming face-to-face with the largest bear she had ever seen in person. He must have been at least 10 feet tall if he was standing on his hind legs, and would make even the most experienced animal caretaker wary. Recovering quickly, she wondered what kind of bear he was, far too big to be a grizzly, and was embarrassed that she didn’t know right away. 

“So, they’re all yours. I’ll get them papers ready and call Murphy about the van. We’ll work out who’s going with you and when I come back with the goods. Clipboard with information is on the wall next to the bear,” the Gerry called, already inching out to the hallway. He looked anxious to get the hell out of dodge, to the recesses of the office. Stunned, she watched him leave, various sounds of confused animals making her feel overwhelmed all at once. Y/N closed her eyes briefly, composing herself as best she could, before turning to the center of the room. Feeling eyes boring into her skull, she looked for the source, but somehow knew who it was already. 

The wolf, standing in a defensive position, eyed Y/N with an intensity that made her feel like her skin would melt off. It made her want to shiver, but she knew that she had to maintain a cool head in order to establish a trusting relationship with the hybrids. Not exactly sure what to do, especially because all of the hybrids were shifted, she cleared her throat, wincing at the sound cutting through the room. 

“Uh, hello. I’m Y/N,” she began, her voice a tad scratchy from her hot coffee earlier. “This is probably pretty strange to you all, considering we haven’t met before. I was here last night? My friends adopted a child here, and I happened to take a peek through the window.”

Scanning the room, most of the animals were watching her carefully. The jaguar was still on his side, but his ear was flickering, so she knew that he was listening. She continued, slowly reaching for the clipboard as if not to startle the bear that was crammed into his tiny cell. 

Not noticing before, Y/N realized there was a little bathroom by the elk’s cell; she thought that the hybrids could shift and change before they left together. It would be much easier to get back to the house if they were in their human forms, as well as more comfortable, considering the size of each hybrid. They weren’t house cat hybrids– most of them were apex predators. 

“Well, Gerry told me last night that there was a man coming in from Manhattan to adopt you all,” pausing when she heard a loud rumble coming from the bear. She figured the hybrids were clued in with their fate, acute hearing most likely picking up most happenings at the shelter. “And I guess I just… Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. All night. One thing led to another and I found myself coming back here, so I want to apologize for lack of preparation on my part,” Y/N scratched the back of her head sheepishly, realizing she was rambling. Deciding to cut to the chase, she bit the bullet.

“I… I’m adopting you, all of you. Instead of the Manhattan man,” she announced, clutching the clipboard to her chest. A symphony of growls and noises of surprise filled the room, however, Y/N was not to be discouraged. The deed was done. 

“I just left my job last night. I was an exotics veterinarian, I worked on the other side of Boston. My home has plenty of space, so I have been looking for others to live with anyway. And, I know you don’t have any reason to trust me yet, but I promise I just want to give you all a home to be comfortable in,” Y/N summed up her best elevator pitch of herself and her plans.

The coyote had jumped down from its cot, getting closer to Y/N as it could behind the bars, its yellow eyes assessing her very closely. She heard low growls coming from the wolf. Perhaps it would take a few days of convincing to get him in particular to the manor. Her first priority was hopefully bringing the jaguar with her at the very least, so she could treat his injuries and prevent further harm and infection.

It came as no surprise that the hybrids were wary of her, considering the place they had landed in. There was no way for her to tell what kinds of tribulations they had all gone through. Every day, there were articles about some of the disgusting things that happened to stray hybrids; they were forced into unpaid labor, adopted by sexually abusive owners, bought to be hunted. Just as she had no knowledge of them, they had little to go off of her own character by the state of the world.

There was a folding chair against the wall near the door, so Y/N dragged it to the center of the room slowly, the sensation of being inspected from all angles making heat rise to her cheeks. Lowering herself onto the chair, she smoothed down the first page of the clipboard. 

“Okay…” she mumbled to herself, scanning the page. The sheet had pertinent data relating to species, heights, measurements and weights of both animal and human forms, as well as age, gender, and name. The first sheet was the leopard’s. 

“I want to get you all out of this place as quickly as I can, but I’ll keep coming back until you’re comfortable enough to leave with me… so, you’re Yoongi? 28, male,” Y/N tilted her head towards him, what sounded like a rumble of acknowledgement came from the hybrid. She flipped through the other 6 pages slowly. So they’re all male, Y/N thought, understanding why some of them didn’t get along. Finding the page she was looking for, the jaguar named Seokjin, she studied his stats. Y/N wasn’t leaving the shelter that morning without him. 

“Seokjin,” Y/N murmured, memorizing his measurements so she could buy at least one set of the decrepit clothes up front for him to change into when he shifted. Eyes flickering upwards, she noticed Seokjin had turned his head at the sound of his name, still laying on his side but finally looking at her. He was beautiful, but had an expression of sadness about him. 

“So, I was thinking, since you’re injured, it’s probably best if you come with me today. I can treat your injury, I have all of the supplies at home to mend that wound in a flash,” Y/N speculated, maintaining eye contact with Seokjin. The hybrid wheezed, which was better than growling at her, so she took it as either resignation or feeble consent. Maybe it was resignation, or the hybrid was in so much pain he couldn’t bear it any longer. 

“Hmm… so, I get the feeling that a few of you will need some time before you come with me, but I’d love to take a couple more of you with me today, yeah? Don’t worry – I’m signing the adoption papers for everyone today, so nobody else will come and take you God knows where. Anyone willing to take the leap and get out of here?” 

Y/N was met with silence, which made her want to crawl into a hole. Not ready to give up yet, she stood, making a slow circle around the room. She avoided the wolf, who was still regarding her with hostility, as well as the bear and elk that backed away from her as soon as she approached. She would not try to engage with the hybrids that wanted nothing to do with her yet, it would be counterproductive in earning their trust. Yoongi had slunk back to his cot as she passed by his space, disinterested. Y/N bit back a chuckle, sensing he would be a bit of a character when she got to know him. Not today, then. 

Circling back to the fox, who was still poking his face through the bars, Y/N grinned. 

“You don’t seem to hate me, huh?” Y/N wondered aloud, consulting the clipboard for his name. “Hoseok! How ‘bout it?” 

The fox blinked, pawing the ground. She registered the reaction as a green light to consider him one of the ones leaving with her today, making her feel utterly elated. 

“Alright! Any other takers for today?” Y/N inquired, starting to feel mirthful. A pitiful whine came from across the room from the coyote. She remembered his name from the sheet already, he was Jimin. 

“Jimin, right?” Y/N crossed the room at a glacial pace, smiling at the quivering hybrid so as not to frighten him further. He looked like he’d rather travel to Mordor than spend one more second in that shelter, so she made a mental note to bring him along that day as well. “Well, three out of seven for today is more than I was expecting, so that makes me happy,” Y/N breathed, a smile stretching across her face. Jimin’s ear fluttered, sitting shakily on his haunches in expectation. 

“Alrighty, I’ve got all of the certificates, ‘ere. Just need your signatures. Murphy’s on his way,” Gerry bustled into the room, holding a stack of paper and a fountain pen. Again, he made sure he stayed far from the cells, not sparing a single glance to the hybrids. Y/N felt acute dislike for the man, but needed to remain cordial so he would allow her to return for a couple days for the others. 

Walking away from Jimin, Y/N reached for the papers, adding them to the clipboard. Gerry watched her with mild interest as she sorted through the certificates, uncapping the pen. Aware of the hybrid’s stares more than ever, she signed her name carefully seven times, officially sealing the deal. The hybrids were safe, and she could breathe a little easier.

“I’d like to get some clothes from up front for them, for the ride back,” Y/N handed the pen back to Gerry, tucking the clipboard close to her side. Gerry nodded, scuttling out of the room, beckoning to follow. 

“I’ll be right back!” Y/N assured the seven pairs of eyes on her. 

Back at the front of the shop, she studied the measurements of the men, deciding to just pick up a set for all of them. She would take them all shopping for things of their own style when they settled in later that week, the thought of enjoying a day at the outdoor mall with seven new companions filling her with anticipation. 

The clothes were just as plain and dated as they were the previous night, and there was not much to pick from, but thankfully all of the sizes she needed were available. She selected various tee shirts in colors of cream, gray, and olive, as well as seven pairs of thin black sweatpants. Adding a pack of socks and underwear to her armful of apparel, she hummed, lamenting the quality. In little cubbies, there were even shoes that she could buy, so she had Gerry haul seven pairs to the front of the store. 

“Murphy’ll be here in ten minutes. He’s over in Chinatown. How many you takin’ today?” Gerry asked her, hanging up the phone he had been shouting on while Y/N was choosing clothes. 

“Three. I’ll be back tomorrow for the others. I might have to impose on Monday, as well,” Y/N explained, heading back to the hybrids. Gerry waved in acknowledgement, whistling and loading the boxes of shoes on a dolly to cart behind her.

Reentering the room with the stack of clothes, Y/N grunted as she piled everything on the folding chair. Seokjin had managed to roll over, head weakly lifted as he watched Y/N rip the pack of socks and underwear open. She squealed as the socks burst out of the plastic bag, catching her off guard, quickly apologizing as a startled growl came from the wolf on her right. He was definitely going to be a tough nut to crack. 

Divvying up the clothes according to who they were for, she neatly folded them into piles as quickly as she could, depositing each pile in front of the hybrid they were intended for, easily accessible through the wide iron bars. Gerry had wheeled the shoes to the mouth of the room, his key to the cell doors on the top box as per her request, but went no further inside the room himself. Y/N could still hear him whistling at the front of the store, to the tune of Money, Money, Money by ABBA. Muttering about his inconsideracy, Y/N placed the shoeboxes in front of their new owners as well. 

“So! I’m sorry you weren’t able to pick these yourselves, but we can go out next week or whenever you’d like to pick out clothes that are your taste. We could even order some clothes online if you’d prefer,” Y/N apologized, arms coming out to hug her midsection. She was starting to feel the fatigue of staying up for longer than 24 hours, and was running purely off of fumes at this point. 

“Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin, the ride home should be here any minute. I’ll wait for you up front, and let you change,” Y/N urged gently, sensing the eagerness to leave in both Jimin and Hoseok. She felt the need to say more to the other hybrids, a bit crushed that she’d have to leave them for some time.

“The rest of you guys, I’ll be back first thing in the morning like today. I’d love it if you’d all come with me tomorrow, but we’ll talk about it then,” she turned to the elk, Jeongguk, the clipboard informed her, and admired his beautiful antlers with a wistful smile. Keys in hand, she slowly approached Jimin’s cell, unlocking the door but keeping it closed, before doing the same to Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s. A large part of her wanted to unlock all of the doors, but she didn’t want to risk an altercation between the remaining hybrids when she left for home.

With that, she gave a little wave, and retreated back to the storefront. Her heart began to race, wondering what the hybrids looked like when they shifted, how their voices sounded, and what their personalities were like. She couldn’t wait to actually hold a two-sided conversation with them, feeling like she was talking to herself for the past half hour, and paced back and forth in front of the window as she waited for Murphy’s van to pull up. 

Tempted to add some guidebooks to her list of purchases, Y/N thought the better of it as she noticed the outdated materials. Her mother would be able to find what she was looking for at the library, that is, when Y/N told her about the hybrids. Blood draining from her face, she realized that nobody in her life even knew what she had just done. Grinding her teeth, a part of her basked in the feeling of having a secret just to herself, for now, even if it wouldn’t be for long. She wouldn’t even be able to put Ben off come evening. 

Deciding to cross that bridge when she got to it, she jumped a foot in the air as a car noisily honked outside. Checking the window, a rusted mint green VW Microbus was double parked in front of the shelter. A sandy haired older gentleman was waving at her, mouthing her name and pointing to the backseat. Frantically, she ran out the door, approaching the vehicle. 

“You’re Y/N?” The man confirmed, scanning her face expectantly.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for coming out like this,” Y/N leaned into the passenger window. “I’ve written my address down for the GPS, I’ll come back out with the others,” handing him a scrap of paper that came from the sock package, she tripped her way back into the building, bewildered. She almost fell over as she collided with another body, hands reaching out to steady her by her biceps. 

“Whoa, there,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, immediately releasing her upon her recovery of footing. Looking up, Y/N felt her cheeks flame as she registered the man’s face. 

The first thing she noticed were a pair of clever mocha colored eyes, widened in surprise. Second, of course, where the red fox ears were crowning glossy strands of mahogany hair, ears turned back flat against his head. His golden skin contrasted unfairly well with the olive tee shirt he had donned, and all at once Y/N felt overwhelmed and embarrassed. 

“Hoseok?” She breathed, face on fire. Of course he had to be good looking. Backing up a foot, resisting the urge to fan herself, she watched as a cheeky grin appeared on Hoseok’s face. Starting to say something, he was swiftly cut off by the sound of a dragging foot behind him, stepping to the side in alarm. Trying to shake off her astoundment, she pulled her eyebrows together, peering around Hoseok’s frame for the source of the sound. 

The two other hybrids inched towards the front door, the taller’s arm slung around the other’s shoulders for support. Gasping, Y/N moved forward to help, noticing blood seeping through the cream colored shirt Seokjin had put on. 

“Oh, Jesus, can I please help you out?” Y/N hesitated reaching out, not wanting to touch someone without permission. Seokjin’s head of wavy raven hair was bobbing, skin an ashen color, and she forgot all about her previous state of fluster. It must have taken a lot of effort for him to shift and change, his energy waned to nothing.

“I don’t think he can hear you, entirely, Miss,” a rugged voice piped up: Jimin. Balking at the title, Y/N glanced at him with concern. Overgrown blonde hair covered his eyes, a concentrated grimace across his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Jimin assured her, his hand firmly gripping Seokjin’s wrist over his shoulder. 

“O-Okay–” 

“I’ll help you get him in the back, let’s go,” Hoseok cut her off urgently. Leaping out of the way, Y/N suddenly felt out of place as she watched Jimin drag Seokjin out of the shelter, Hoseok jogging out first and pulling the van door open. She didn’t miss the way Jimin tipped his head back, filling his lungs with fresh morning air, and Hoseok’s stiffened posture loosening up the moment his feet touched the sidewalk outside of the shelter.

“Gerry, I’ll be back in the morning. First thing!” Y/N yelled into the recesses of the shop, not caring if he replied or not. 

Out on the sidewalk, she bit at her nails nervously as she watched Jimin shift to get a good hold on Seokjin’s shoulders, Hoseok grasping his ankles and hoisting him up. Seokjin groaned loudly, head rolling back, his sweaty face screwed up in pain. Y/N felt her heart break, the same way it did whenever she saw agony written all over someone’s face, and vowed to find whoever did this to him and slap them with Ben’s most aggressive lawsuit, or maybe claw their eyes out. 

Hoseok bared his teeth as he hauled Seokjin’s lower body into the van gingerly. Waiting for Jimin to lift the rest of him into the van, Hoseok sat in the back seat with Seokjin’s legs dangling over his lap. Jimin had to maneuver Seokjin’s chest and head so it was propped up on his thighs, all three of them cramped in the back, breathing laboriously. 

“Aw, hell, is that blood?” Murphy exclaimed, twisting his body to eye Seokjin’s bloodied shirt. 

“I’ll pay for any damages, can you just take the fastest route?” Y/N shot back as she slammed the passenger door, buckling up. Murphy sputtered, looking at her like she had two heads, but obeyed by throwing the van in drive and shoving AirPods in his ears. Adjusting herself so she could face the backseat, she scanned Seokjin’s face, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. His face was positively angelic, however, marred by the shadow of pain, and he was definitely feverish judging by the sweat dripping from his hairline.   

“So… where do you live?” Hoseok asked, his cadence a bit awkward as he tried to sit as close to the edge of the seat as possible. Y/N cleared her throat, tearing her attention from Seokjin’s face, returning Hoseok’s gaze. 

“Outside of the city, in a wooded area by a lake. I live in my grandparent’s old house,” Y/N answered, squeezing her fists as she prayed Murphy’s driving was as fast as her’s. Hoseok half-smiled thoughtfully, looking out the window curiously as buildings rolled by. Sunlight caught gold flecks in his irises and the rich red of his hair. 

As conversation halted there, Y/N started to plan out the mid-morning: she would have to roll out her grandfather’s old wheelchair for Seokjin, find the best place to treat him, show the other two around the house, and hopefully sneak in a nap somewhere along the way. Later that night, she wanted to order a few more sets of basic clothing for the hybrids until they could make it to the stores – after all, she didn’t know when the wolf hybrid would want to even be in the same room as her. She’d probably have to order some groceries, as well, there weren’t enough items in her fridge and pantry to feed everybody. Pulling out her phone, she kept track of all of the loose ends to tie up that night, ignoring missed texts from Ben crowding her lockscreen. She’d have to call him later, as well, and she wasn’t looking forward to it, luckily he was probably preoccupied with Daisy. 

“Miss? You said you’re a veterinarian?” Jimin piped up after a stretch of time, brushing his hair off of his face. His eyes were a shocking shade of yellow, round and clear as a spring morning. Swallowing hard, Y/N nodded.

“I am. I worked with exotic animals, like parrots, lizards… I even treated a giraffe at one point. Though, hybrids, I have not treated before…” Y/N trailed off, unnerved by Jimin’s intense eye contact. He seemed significantly less jittery now that he was shifted into his human form, which was relieving. “But, I know that I’ll be able to help Seokjin, for sure– and my father can come by, as well. He specializes in hybrid cardiology.”

Jimin’s sandy colored ears pricked up in interest, with this, his shoulders relaxing an inch. Interestingly, the three hybrids had no animosity between them, seemingly, as Seokjin was passed out, and Y/N wondered which ones didn’t like each other. She wondered if Laura, the master of conflict resolution in her friend group, could swing by in the future and give her some tips. 

“Hybrid cardiology?” Hoseok repeated, an eyebrow raised. Nodding enthusiastically, Y/N cringed as Murphy took a sharp turn off of the highway towards her town. 

“He went to school for cardiology, because my grandfather on his side passed away from congestive heart failure quite young. He eventually became part of a group study that practiced surgical procedures for hybrids when my mother was pregnant with me, for some additional experience. My mother told me that he enjoyed working with hybrids so much, and that the field had so much improvement to make, my father focused his studies on hybrid cardiology from then on. Up until a year ago he had a practice in Boston, now he’s semi-retired— he can still access his office and do examinations,” Y/N explained. Her father had helped trailblaze heart surgical procedures for hybrids, and would love the news of Y/N’s spur-of-the-moment adoptions. Another phone call to add to the list.  

Hoseok and Jimin listened to her carefully, and while she was grateful they seemed to express at least a little interest in her life, she was absolutely dying to know more about them. Sadly, she knew that it would take a lot of time to get close enough to ask personal questions, and knew better than to pry right off the bat. While they didn’t say more than a few words compared to her ramblings, it felt nice to have someone listen.  

“I’ll have to go back to the shelter tomorrow to pick up the others, as I’m sure you heard, but you’re welcome to come with me into the city again then! Maybe we can stop at a drugstore on the way back so we can pick up toiletries and snacks,” Y/N offered hopefully. Jimin opened his mouth and closed it, eyes flicking downward as if he was conflicted. She began to backtrack when she remembered how anxious he seemed at the shelter, internally scolding herself.

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” Hoseok replied quickly, flashing a lovely smile. Overjoyed, Y/N returned the grin, admiring just how pretty his smile was – after all, it was the first time she saw it in its entirety. 

“Jimin,” Y/N continued, not wanting to put him in a tight spot, “If you’d like, you can write me a list and I can pick up whatever you need. It’s a good idea to have someone stay with Seokjin while he comes down from his fever, and you can settle in.”

Biting down on his thick lower lip, Jimin looked both alleviated and a touch guilty, a peach blush dusting his cheeks. 

“If that’s alright, Miss, I’ll watch over Seokjin for you,” Jimin answered, hand reaching up to tug at something on his head that wasn’t there, as if he had an imaginary hat on. The action was odd, Jimin slightly frowning as he realized his fingers grasped air. Pretending not to notice, Y/N turned the right way in her seat as the familiar library building passed by, her mother’s car parked out front; they were almost home. 

“Oh! We’ll be there soon!” Y/N exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. She stole a glance at Seokjin, who was fast asleep, oblivious to the chatter between the rest of them. Hoseok was locked in on the scenery of the town, small shops she grew up around zooming by, beautiful August flowers studding the storefronts. The fall festivals would be coming up in less than a month, and bringing the hybrids to the events would be a blast. Thinking of the hayrides, harvest stands, and apple picking filled her mind, now that she finally had time to attend the festivals. 

Murphy pulled out an earbud, snapping gum between his teeth. 

“Next street over?” He yelled, earning a gravelly moan from Seokjin. Y/N had the feeling Murphy was a bit hard of hearing. 

“Yes, yes,” Y/N waved, directing him where to park. She’d have to unlatch the gate and blast into the house for the wheelchair.

Murphy crawled to the end of the street, Y/N tapped her foot, watching her neighbor’s old Victorians pass by. The hybrids in the back seat were quiet, the only sound in the van coming from the GPS. Finally pulling up in front of Y/N’s house, the last one on the dead end street, she breathed a sigh of relief, unfastening her seatbelt. 

“This is it!” Y/N announced nervously. She hoped that they would like the house, that it wouldn’t be too old and scary looking to them. If the hybrids held any opinions on the exterior, they kept them to themselves, ears alert as they both leaned towards the window to take a look. Admittedly, the view of the house was pretty obstructed by the large willows planted in the front yard, but the shapes of the roof peaked over enough to get a glimpse. Debriefing Hoseok and Jimin on her plan to retrieve the wheelchair, she had them wait in the van while she ran into the house.

Jimin and Hoseok maneuvered Seokjin as gently as they could into the leather wheelchair. Murphy honked his way down the street as he left, and thankfully none of Seokjin’s blood seeped into the seats of the van. Y/N insisted on pushing the wheelchair despite Jimin’s protests, Seokjin still fever dreaming and mumbling incoherently. She had to take the hybrids in the side door where the wooden ramp fashioned for her grandfather’s wheelchair led into the kitchen. 

“This place is huge,” Hoseok observed, getting a better look at the building once in the backyard. Looking back at the two hybrids trailing behind her, Y/N noticed Hoseok’s mouth hanging ajar, eyes roaming over the windows and steep eaves of the roof. The house was pretty imposing, painted dark shades of maroon and gray, but it was light and airy inside, something she knew the hybrids would love. 

“Yeah, it is. I used to get lost in some of the nooks and back staircases when I was really little, my dad got me Barbie walkie talkies for Christmas one year when it became a frequent problem,” Y/N chuckled at the memory. “Back when it was new, a wealthy local judge had it built for his wife. They had six children, so it has more bedrooms and living spaces than the average Victorian.” 

She eased the wheelchair over a bump in the pavingstones, finally back to the patio where she had only been hours ago. It was almost impossible to believe where she was now compared to just a short time ago.

“Looks like you’ve got some real nice grounds in the back here, Miss,” Jimin added, bright eyes sparkling as he took in the fauna in the backyard. Y/N froze as she attempted to unlock the kitchen door, casting Jimin an embarrassed look. 

“Thank you, Jimin, we can walk around the trails tonight if you’d like – and I can show you my poor landscaping skills! And please, you can just call me Y/N,” she insisted, smoothly yanking the sliding door open. She heard him sputtering, along with a snort from Hoseok. 

“We made it! Okay, so I’ll give you guys a proper tour after I treat Seokjin, but this is the kitchen,” Y/N gestured about the room, the mid-morning light warming the room pleasantly. Thankfully, she had cleared away her gin glass from last night before she left that morning, so the kitchen was absolutely spotless and ready for dinner. Hoseok whistled lowly, skimming a palm along the granite island. With the restaurant-sized refrigerator, multiple ovens, beautiful cooktop and walk-in pantry, Y/N was more excited than ever to reignite her passion for cooking and baking now that she had others to share food with. 

Pressing on, Y/N wheeled Seokjin towards the hallway, opting to put him in the nearest bedroom to her’s until he was well enough to pick one for himself.

“Either of you like to cook?” Y/N wondered aloud, slow footsteps behind her flooding out into the hallway. Cringing as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized that the possibility of them having access to a kitchen could be slim. Stupid! 

“The only thing I can make is a hamburger,” Hoseok said mournfully. So far, he had taken her completely by surprise, and her anxieties were quelled. Y/N laughed heartily at this response, looking forward to teaching him and the others how to make a few other staples in the future instead of lamenting over their pasts she didn’t even know about yet. Jimin even allowed a small chuckle to escape, with this, the mood light despite the circumstances. 

Passing through the foyer, by the dining room and parlor, they arrived at the bedroom, which was once where Y/N stayed before her grandparents moved out. It still had her large bookcase filled with all of her favorite books and encyclopedias, a small geode collection lining the desk, and her old wardrobe filled with clothes from her teenage years. When Seokjin got better, she’d have to clear out space on the bookshelf and the wardrobe. Acting with urgency once more, she pushed the wheelchair into the sunny sage green room.

“Let’s get him onto the bed,” Y/N switched into vet-mode, pulling the comforter on the bed back and easing Seokjin’s sneakers off. Hoseok and Jimin pulled Seokjin up by his armpits, heaving him onto the queen-sized mattress, moans of protest coming from the jaguar hybrid. The two stepped back as Y/N rounded the bed frame, getting a good look at Seokjin’s face. 

His fever had spiked, hairline completely soaked, skin pale and blotchy pink. Breathing shallowly, Seokjin’s eyebrows were scrunched together in pain. Bending over to grasp for the medical kit Y/N placed there earlier, she placed it on the bed, sorting through the items she’d need right away. She pushed damp hair off of his forehead, using the back of her hand to check his temperature, cursing at the ovenlike body heat coming off of him. 

“Jimin, do you mind wetting a cloth or two with cool water for me in the bathroom just there please? There should be some face cloths in a basket on the sink,” Y/N asked, pointing to the ajar door to the un suite. 

“O-of course,” Jimin stuttered, hastily crossing the room and disappearing into the bathroom. Y/N took Seokjin’s pulse at the base of his throat, which was thankfully thrumming strong against her fingers. Taking a deep breath, she carefully lifted the hem of his soiled shirt to reveal the wound on his right side. 

A series of healed scars littered the hybrid’s body, standing out against his damp skin. He was bruised in several places along his torso, shades of purple and green mottling around the site of the open wound. It looked like he had taken a few years of beatings or had fallen off of a ladder judging from the damage. Gritting her teeth, she examined the cut, which was miraculously uninfected, but still dribbling blood. The wound was not a puncture, but wide enough to not be able to mesh together without treatment, likely the reason it was still bleeding. Her fingers gently grazed the bruise by the site, Seokjin flinching even in his stupor. The wound was not deep enough to require stitches, but it was gnarly enough for butterfly bandages and gauze. She would have to periodically change his dressings, making sure an infection wouldn’t set in, but there was a lot less she had to do than she originally thought. 

“Here you go, Y/N,” Jimin returned, making the effort to drop the earlier “Miss” title, three cloths wrung out and rolled up in his outstretched hand. In the other, he had even filled the glass for the toothbrushes with more water. Looking up to him with a grateful smile, she set the glass on the nightstand and placed a cloth over Seokjin’s forehead gingerly. Feeling him still looming over her, if she should need anything else from him, she set the cup of water on the nightstand carefully. 

“Thank you, sweetheart, why don’t you and Hoseok sit tight on the couch until I finish up and I’ll show you around. I’m sure you’d love to settle in and relax,” Y/N said, using another cloth to begin swabbing away dried blood from Seokjin’s chest. Jimin had gone pink, mouth opening and closing again, before hurrying over to Hoseok already sitting on the green couch when the latter cleared his throat in amusement. Y/N fell into silence, searching her kit for some bruise cream. 

“Where’re you from, Jimin? That accent of yours certainly isn’t Bostonian,” Hoseok questioned, crossing an ankle over his knee. Loading up a piece of gauze with disinfectant, Y/N pretended she wasn’t listening to their conversation as she worked, hand pressed lightly on Seokjin’s chest so he wouldn’t flinch off of the bed due to the stinging sensation.

“I’m from northern Montana, my family is still there. I worked on the Yellowstone Park ranch,” Jimin answered easily, Hoseok making a hum of acknowledgement. “You?”

“Ah… I’ve been to so many places over the years, I can’t say that I remember where I was originally. Could have been London, might have been Paris. Around the time I was 17 I was brought to the States,” Hoseok said vaguely. Y/N had the feeling he was leaving out certain pieces of information purposefully, the tone of his voice genuinely surprised someone had asked him a personal question. Arching a brow, she applied the bruise cream on all of the spots she could see on Seokjin, hoping the cooling properties of the formula would ease some discomfort brought on by the fever. Hybrids healed faster than humans, so Seokjin would probably be able to get out and about by tomorrow afternoon, but she wanted to make sure he felt better as soon as possible.

The site of the wound cleaned, Y/N began to carefully place butterfly bandages on it. Her eyes felt like they were beginning to cross with fatigue as she fastened the last one by a rib, balling up the paper wrappings and stuffing them in her pocket. All she had left to do was cover the bandages in gauze and tape, and monitor his fever periodically – the thermometer she had pointed at Seokjin’s forehead told her his fever wasn’t something that required medications.

“So, a ranch? What, were you a cowboy?” Hoseok continued, preventing Jimin from asking a question first. Jimin sucked his teeth in annoyance, crossing his arms and leaning away from the fox hybrid. The sandy fur of Jimin’s tail stood on end, a defensive though uncontrollable action.

“You could call it that if you want, but we were ranchers. Mainly, we managed the cattle, trained horses, and maintained the park’s wildlife. I wasn’t Clint Eastwood,” Jimin grit his teeth, the words coming between them. Jimin must have gotten a remark like that hundreds of times to warrant that reaction, which made Y/N hide an involuntary snort as she taped down the gauze rectangle on Seokjin. 

Hoseok was laughing freely, his eyes squinting in humor while Jimin fumed on the furthest spot of the couch away from him, ears flat against his hair. Frowning, Y/N felt too bad to leave Seokjin in a shirt soiled with sweat and blood, so she straightened up and walked across the room to the wardrobe stuffed with her teenage garb. She was very into baggy band shirts in high school, so she knew that there would be at least one in the drawer that could accommodate Seokjin’s wide shoulders. 

“Good lord, I’m sorry, Jimin. I wasn’t expecting you to react like that,” Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye, sighing happily. Contrary to his unwillingness to reveal much about himself, Hoseok seemed completely at ease between the two other hybrids and Y/N herself, his body language relaxed as he slouched on the couch. Jimin mumbled back, Y/N not quite catching what he uttered. She grasped her largest shirt, an ancient Good Charlotte graphic tee from Warped Tour, cringing hard from the memories that came flooding back. 

Back at Seokjin’s side, she used the tiny pair of scissors in her kit to cut away the soiled shirt, pulling it off of him like a paper doll. 

“Hoseok, can you please help me sit him up for a second?” Y/N removed the cloth on Seokjin’s forehead, sliding a hand under his shoulder blade to lift one side. Hoseok jumped from the couch lightly, watching as Y/N held the back of Seokjin’s head so it wouldn’t roll backwards. Moving awkwardly, Y/N eased the well-worn shirt over his head, his rounded black ears popping up cutely as they passed through the neck opening, thanking Hoseok as he pulled Seokjin’s left arm through the hole. Straightening out the shirt, embarrassed of the print, Y/N and Hoseok gently laid him back down. She pulled the covers up over Seokjin when he began to tremble, the fever chills setting in. Lastly, Y/N replaced the cloth on his forehead with a new one, and supplied a bottle of water from her tote bag to leave on the nightstand.

“That wasn’t too bad, luckily. Another day or so in that shelter, he would have gotten an infection,” Y/N used a finger to swipe a lock of hair from Seokjin’s eye, smiling in satisfaction with her work. He looked far more comfortable, cozy, even, now that his fever was being managed, even humming in his sleep with the comforter pulled up to his chin. 

“Ready for the tour?” Y/N tore herself away from Seokjin, rubbing her eyes as she approached the other two hybrids. 

“Are you tired, Mi– Y/N?” Jimin asked, quickly covering up his habit for titles. Grimacing, Y/N drew the curtains partially closed in the room to keep it from heating up in the afternoon sun. She definitely looked tired, her eyes swollen, watering, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror by the wardrobe.

“Just a little bit! I’ll probably take a short nap after I show you around. Staying up all night isn’t as easy as it was when I was nineteen,” Y/N admitted, almost fainting at the thought of sinking into her bed for an hour or two. “Let’s let Seokjin get some rest, I’ll check on him before I nap myself.”

Leaving the door halfway open, she motioned the two hybrids out into the hallway. 

“Straight ahead here, that’s my bedroom. These two doors here on the right are coat closets,” Y/N pointed out their immediate surroundings, moving forward into the foyer. “This is the front entrance! It still needs quite a bit of work, as does most of the house, as you can see with the half-stripped staircase…”

Hoseok made a circle around the foyer room, looking closely at the cloudy stained glass windows, pausing by the staircase. 

“What’s that door, there?” He questioned, pointing to the door down to the basement. 

“That’s the basement! My mother and I just finished renovating it, want to check it out? I suppose you took a peek into the dining room and the living room we passed by earlier, so all that’s left on this floor is the old office, the yellow and blue bedrooms, and the sunroom. You can take a look as you please, later,” Y/N opened up the basement door for Hoseok, switching on the lovely new lights her mother hung up. 

In an effort to make the basement less horrifyingly haunted looking, Y/N’s mother painstakingly helped her paint it in bright creams and soft green, making sure there were plenty of light fixtures and lamps. Y/N took the lead as Hoseok and Jimin followed her down the carpeted staircase, the scent of paint still vaguely lingering in the air. 

“Over there, my mother put in a little gym area.”

The right side of the basement had a mirrored wall, an exercise bike, and a rack of dumbbells. The full bathroom was over there, as well, complete with a little sauna room, something her mother had splurged on for Y/N’s last birthday. It hadn’t gotten much use, with Y/N’s extended hours in the past months, but she had a feeling that was about to change with her newfound free time. Hoseok whistled, an apparent quirk of his, smiling widely at the stereo system mounted on the wall. 

“On that side is a nice new bedroom, what was once a storage room for my grandmother’s junk collection. There’s even a little window in there by the ceiling that was hidden behind some old, crumbly drywall,” Y/N slid the pocket door open, which offered privacy from the gym, letting Jimin and Hoseok get a good look. 

The bedroom had a nice set of rosewood furniture, keeping it on theme with the rest of the home. A large dresser, a desk, queen sized bed, even a space heater tucked away for wintertime. It was one of her favorite bedrooms, artistic painted wallpaper stenciled in by her mother’s hand. 

“This is beautiful,” Hoseok breathed, fingers skimming the cream quilt. She watched him admire the painted ivy on the wall, tail swishing as he walked the width of the room.

“I’ll relay the message to my mother,” Y/N crossed her arms in amusement, leaning against the doorframe. Jimin had gone to examine the sauna, excitedly, his shoes making hollow thuds as he walked around in it behind her. “You want this room?” 

Hoseok’s head snapped up, catching Y/N’s bemused expression, before tilting his head in contemplation. 

“Can I think about it?”

“You absolutely may, there’s a lot more to see,” Y/N affirmed, bringing him back out to the stairwell. Jimin was already waiting for them, flicking his overgrown hair out of his eyes again. She’d have to make appointments for everyone to get a haircut next week, her list of to-do’s becoming longer by the second. 

“Onwards!” Y/N marched up the stairs and wincing, legs screaming in distress. Jimin made a choked sound as he hurried after her, Hoseok lingering for a moment longer before he followed. 

The three ended up on the second floor after taking a blast through the remainder of the first floor. Jimin took a liking to the blue bedroom by the sunroom, overlooking the backyard. Y/N could tell he wanted to claim it when he sunk into the royal blue velvet chair by the window, but refrained from pushing it on him until he saw the rest of the place.

The hybrids followed her through the library, the dusty billiard’s room and family room, and the two tower rooms. They didn’t seem to jump on the opportunity to be on the higher floor, even the pink, lavender, and sunset orange rooms with smaller windows than the tower rooms didn’t get them as excited as they were previously. Y/N was wilting with exhaustion, patiently answering questions about art on the walls or books on shelves, but with the tour of the house done, she knew that she’d be crawling into bed any moment. 

“Any decisions?” Y/N pondered, trudging down the stairs. Met with nervous silence, Y/N sighed lightly, giving the two an encouraging look when they arrived back in the foyer. 

“I’m partial to that blue room, over in the back…” Jimin stared at the black and white tiled floor, voice soft. Y/N wanted to grab the both of them and insist that this was their home now too, and deserved to pick the room they wanted the most, but getting them to believe that would take time and even more patience. 

“It’s yours,” Y/N confirmed, hoping Hoseok hadn’t wanted the same room suddenly. Jimin perked up, shuffling his feet, and giving her a nod in thanks. They both gave Hoseok an expectant look, while he stared at the basement door. 

“Hoseok?” Y/N giggled, his ears swiveling back in embarrassment when he caught their looks. “Did you think about it?” 

“I think the basement is calling his name or something,” Jimin teased, surprising everyone else in the room. Perhaps it was payback from Hoseok’s earlier jabs. 

“Am I that obvious?” Hoseok exclaimed, nudging Jimin with his shoulder. Jimin blushed, eyes squinting in mirth. He had a gorgeous smile, and it was so nice to see the two of them get along amicably with their teasing. 

“So, Jimin will take the blue room and Hoseok the basement room? Is that right?”

The two nodded, still smiling from their little moment. A chorus of angels sang hallelujah in her head, finally able to get some rest now that the room choices were squared away. 

“Do you need anything from me before I get some sleep? I’ll be up to make some late lunch, but please feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want a snack,” Y/N insisted. 

“I’m alright, thank you… but you should really get some sleep. We’ll be fine,” Jimin reassured her, Hoseok agreeing with a hum. Grinning gratefully, Y/N began to head towards the hallway. 

“Well then, I’ll leave you two to settle in for now. I’m just going to check on Seokjin, first,” she gave them a little wave, watching as Jimin set off towards his room with a skip in his step and Hoseok waved back animatedly. 

Shaking her head with a chuckle, she slid into Seokjin’s room quietly, eyes adjusting in the low light. She could hear his steady breathing, and upon closer examination Y/N saw that he was still fast asleep. Gently, she rinsed another cloth in the cool cup of water, swapping it from the warm one on his forehead. Seokjin mumbled in his sleep as it draped over him, his ears fluttering against the pillow. 

Leaving him, Y/N set an alarm on her phone to wake her in time to make the food mid-afternoon, stumbling down the hallway. The list on her phone grew lengthy, bullet points reading: open up seven hybrid-specific credit cards, call friends and family to break the news, order cell phones, schedule haircuts… all of which she would tackle later that night. 

She strained her ears for any sounds of the other two hybrids, but all she heard was the wind blowing willow branches against the windows of her bedroom. Deciding to take a nice, cool shower after her nap, she closed her door, stripped to her underwear, and collapsed into her bed. Her lights were out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she already felt like she was floating through a dream.

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

Trouvaille - Chapter Four

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.6k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hello darling readers, it's Dana! Happy April, I am so excited to bring you this month's update; Chapter Four! We're picking up exactly where we left off, and there's lots going on in this chapter. Expect a bit more paranormal happenings in this chapter, particularly towards the end (nothing TOO frightening, but I figured I'd warn in advance) Of course, we have a few moments of angst, a handful of flirtatious banter, and a lot more information revealed about the hybrids themselves. As always, I love to hear from readers; comments or questions! Please know that I will answer each response in time, I am currently going through an emotional time with my family 💜 The taglist is still open, as well. Without further ado, please enjoy this update, and thank you so much for reading and supporting my work!

Previous Chapter

Immediately, Y/N could see Namjoon recognized the relation between her and her mother– if he was taken aback, it didn’t show. However, his face completely changed like night and day as he broke out into a fond grin at her mother after a beat. 

After a split second of deduction, Y/N figured that apparently, her mother was who Namjoon knew at the library. Feeling completely out of place as her mother hurried from out behind the desk and gave Namjoon a tearful hug, Y/N was positively flabbergasted. What were the chances of Y/N adopting a hybrid her mother knew? The book club, by law of the state, could only accept adopted hybrid members, and until a few nights ago, Namjoon was very much unadopted. 

“You came by every day! I thought something bad may have happened to you,” her mother broke free from the hug slightly, wiping a tear from her eye as she assessed Namjoon, like she was searching for injuries. 

Namjoon tilted his head, her mother right about that– he had landed in Boston’s “finest” shelter after being dragged off the street in his wolf form. Unadopted, it was likely that Namjoon had found a way to put up a front about his situation and was somehow found out later on. Her mother couldn’t have been the one to report Namjoon judging by her genuine relief upon seeing him, Y/N thought, but the missing explanation on how he had gotten into the book club in the first place was piquing Y/N’s curiosity the most. 

“I’m alright,” Namjoon replied, rich voice muffled by the velvet shawl covering her mother’s shoulder. “Something… came up,” he added as he pulled away, eyes darting from Y/N to her mother, seemingly examining similarities and differences in their features. Her mother frowned sympathetically but did not pry, seemingly knowing better than to do so with Namjoon. As if just remembering Y/N was standing there gawking at the pair of them, her mother pressed a hand to her chest. 

“Oh, honey, I forgot to call your hybrid’s name over the intercom, I’m sorry, Namjoon, one moment…” her mother rushed back behind the desk, Namjoon raising his eyebrows at Y/N, who was floundering under his pointed gaze. “What was his name?”

“Uh, mom. It’s alright. Namjoon is the said hybrid,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, Namjoon clearly unimpressed she had panicked right away not being able to find him. Her mother was instantly confused, looking from her to Namjoon with suspicion. Expecting her to make an elaborate spectacle, Y/N braced herself, only to be met with her mother’s careful composure. 

“Huh. Snuck past the law, didn’t you, you smart boy,” her mother reached out to ruffle Namjoon’s hair, dimples appearing in the wolf hybrid’s cheeks, because of course he had them. Her mother then squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, adding, “This is my daughter I’ve mentioned before, which I’m assuming you’ve gathered by now. And you can return to the book club again, I need your help leading the discussions once more. They’ve been a bit uninspiring since your absence.”

Namjoon appeared to glow under her mother’s praise, but Y/N thought she may have been buttering him up a bit too much. Her mother had a knack for flattery. There was also the unspoken that hung around the atmosphere, her mother’s lack of interrogation and swift acceptance forming a pit in Y/N’s stomach. Usually, she’d be the type to pry out every detail of how Y/N had managed to become acquainted with Namjoon, but shockingly her mother refrained, seemingly occupied in rummaging around in the returns rack. She pulled out a book from behind the desk, handing it to Namjoon: Wuthering Heights. 

“This is the book we’re reading for the next two weeks. Started it yesterday, so the others don’t have too much of a head start yet,” her mother folded her arms over her chest, looking particularly smug that they were reading one of Y/N’s favorite books as she noticed the eager grin growing on her daughter’s face. “You can ask Y/N just about any question you have about that particular book and she’ll bring out all ten of the essays she’s written on it.”

“Jesus, mom. Exaggeration much?” Y/N scoffed, watching Namjoon carefully tuck the book under his arm. “I only wrote two essays on it,” she muttered under her breath, unable to deny her great obsession for everything Bronte circa her college days. 

“Excuse me, I’m scheduled to meet someone for an interview here at 10, but I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go?” A young man anxiously gripping a map interrupted the conversation by catching the attention of her mother behind the desk. 

“Oh, you must be Joseph! I’ll take you up to the office myself,” her mother exclaimed, glancing at Y/N and Namjoon. “I’ll see you two on Friday, alright? Y/N, honey, don’t put that salt on the windowsills, it’ll stain the finish,” she added, motioning for Joseph to follow her around the desk. 

With that, she was gone in an instant, leaving Y/N with a hybrid who still seemed to resent the fact that she thought he had run away. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Y/N started to sweat under the beret she was wearing, cursing her wardrobe choices that morning already. 

“Uh… well, your introduction to my mother was less painful than it was when she stopped by to meet the others yesterday,” Y/N began thoughtfully, spinning around to face Namjoon, all imposing height and narrowed, probing eyes. Her stomach turned uncomfortably, reminding her she had yet to eat anything that morning. “Come on, Namjoon, I’ll buy you a pastry from the cafe here,” she motioned towards the small counter at the front of the library littered with small bistro tables, comfortably walled off by planter partitions.

With an arched brow, Namjoon sucked in his cheeks as he reluctantly followed Y/N to the counter, ears turned flat against his skull. The woman working by the oven was pulling out a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, the saccharine scent of buttery confection making Y/N nearly swoon. Fishing around in her bag, she pulled out her wallet, promptly ordering a cinnamon roll and an espresso for herself. Catching Namjoon gazing at the cherry pie displayed in a glass cake stand, she thought about getting him a slice before thinking the better of it. He seemed like the type to want to order his own food. 

“Hiya, Namjoon! The usual?” The cheery woman from behind the counter gave Namjoon a kindly smile, placing a tiny cup under the espresso machine for Y/N. Brightening up a bit, Namjoon nodded, crowding behind Y/N as the woman added a hot black coffee and a slice of cherry pie to Y/N’s order. Forking over the cash, she waited silently at the end of the counter with Namjoon for his pie to be heated up in the oven. 

He hadn’t said anything to her directly since they were in the car. Namjoon must have had questions, simply because Y/N knew she had her own fair share, but he seemed to be in no hurry to voice them as he plucked a brown leaf off of the potted plant sitting at the end of the counter. Once Namjoon had his mug and pie balanced in his hands, Y/N found a little table for two vacant at the corner of the cafe. Seated across from Namjoon, taking what seemed to be a soul-satisfying sip of coffee with his eyes closed, Y/N found she had forgotten every question she was going to ask him. Shrugging, she dove into her cinnamon roll, still hot from the oven and practically melting in her mouth. 

“What’s that salt for?” Namjoon asked suddenly, using the side of his fork to collect a bite of pie on the utensil. He gave a pointed look to Y/N’s tote bag as he chewed his pie, ignoring the surprise on her face. 

“Hmm. If I said it's for witchcraft, what would be your response?” Y/N decided to answer truthfully, with the knowledge of him likely being able to sniff out a lie in the forefront of her mind. If he called her crazy, she could handle that, but a liar was something she no longer wished to be with any of the hybrids. In fact, she’d planned on coming clean with the others about the ghost sighting in the house later that afternoon when she got the chance. 

Namjoon, sipping his coffee thoughtfully as he scanned her face, seemed to consider her words carefully. Setting his mug down, he sat back in his chair with a sigh. 

“I already knew your mother was a witch, she told me– not that it was very difficult to piece together. So, it makes sense you practice too… but that doesn’t really answer my question. What, exactly, do you need black salt for? Protection from something?” Namjoon clarified, with particular emphasis on the last question. 

Opening and closing her mouth, Y/N abruptly drained her espresso cup for some kind of a lifeline, not expecting Namjoon to be so direct or even have knowledge about the uses of black salt. He nonchalantly went back to enjoying his pie, waiting patiently for her explanation. 

“Okay, sure. It’s for protection, I think the house is overdue for some cleansing and some boundaries to keep a few uninvited guests… out,” Y/N toed around the issue as honestly as possible without including the word ghosts, deciding it was a little strange to be discussing something like that in a library cafe. Returning to her cinnamon roll, she chased some icing at the edge of the plate with a crispy layer of pastry. Y/N had yet to plan out the exact ritual she was going to conduct, fleetingly wishing that she had her mother’s old spellbook at the house to consult. 

“I read a lot about modern witchcraft here. I didn’t know all too much about it before I met your mother at the book club,” Namjoon confessed, crumpling up his napkin on his empty pie plate. “If I hadn’t seen certain things myself, I’d write it all off as new-age garbage.”

Tilting her head, Y/N’s curiosity had climbed tenfold. For someone so burly and serious looking, Namjoon’s apparent interest in the occult came as a great surprise. Not to mention, she desperately wanted to ask about what “things” Namjoon had referenced seeing to make him a believer at all. It didn’t seem like the time nor place, however.

“Namjoon, not to change the subject, but how were you able to get into the book club?” Y/N blurted out the first thing that came to mind, distantly hoping he wasn’t withholding any embarrassing stories her mother had relayed to him about her daughter. 

“You mean, while I was unadopted,” Namjoon returned bluntly, holding his hand up in response to Y/N offering a piece of her cinnamon roll. “It was easy enough, I created a fake certificate on one of the computers in the lab here after seeing a flier for the book club nailed to a telephone pole.” 

“Oh,” was all Y/N could think to say, the explanation much simpler than she had anticipated, feeling silly that she had asked at all. Pushing her plate away, she again wondered how he had ended up in the shelter considering her mother knew him well enough to be so moved by his absence. Someone must have ratted him out, but who, and how did they even find out about his forged certificate? 

“Should we get going?” Namjoon interrupted her internal dialogue, his chair scraping against the floor as he collected their cups, plates, and his book. Scrambling to her feet, Y/N tried her best to keep up with Namjoon’s long strides, almost falling over upon seeing his beautiful smile directed at the woman behind the counter. 

On the way back to the car, she caught Namjoon casting a look at the desk where they had met her mother, but she wasn’t there, cueing the corners of his mouth to turn down in disappointment. Clearly, she had left a lasting impression on Namjoon. 

Outside, the weather was still cool and pleasant, tourists ambling down Boylston street with great shopping bags swinging from the crooks of their elbows. The black salt in her tote bag felt like it weighed one hundred pounds, placing it in the backseat of her car as she slid in. The tinny old tape resumed, crackling to life in the speaker, Mick Jagger sounding more like Kermit than anything. Namjoon, once settled in his seat, started reading Wuthering Heights straight away, leaving Y/N to focus on the route home and planning out some kind of cleansing and banishing ritual in her mind.

“Wow. Stick Style?” Namjoon let himself through the iron gate Y/N pulled open, taking him around the front upon remembering she had put the bar lock across the sliding kitchen door the night before out of paranoia. 

“That’s right,” Y/N confirmed, carefully navigating the brick walkway to the porch in order not to trip. One of her missions for the day was to watch her clumsiness, and a stray loose brick would put a kink in that plan for sure. “This one was built in 1886 for a judge and his family.”

Namjoon was busy admiring the trees crowding the yard when Y/N noticed the packages piled up on the doorstep, squinting as she tried to see what they were. Bending to collect them, one was a thick packet from the bank, and the other was a medium sized box from her phone carrier. The hybrid’s credit cards and phones arrived far quicker than she had expected, to her delight; they’d be able to buy what they wanted that afternoon at some of the shops and even call her if they wandered off and lost her. Tucking the packages under her arm, she managed to unlock the door while her tote bag slid down her arm, pushing the door open with a loud creak. 

The house was lively. The scent of bacon nearly knocked her off her feet, a lovely song coming from the piano upstairs, and there was chatter Y/N could hear coming from far off in the kitchen. Someone had lit the candles in the sconces on the wall, making the house feel cozy compared to the cool, overcast morning. Grinning, Y/N felt glee well up inside of her, the house feeling so lived-in already that it reminded her of the holidays with her grandparents as a child. Tossing a look over her shoulder, Namjoon hesitated at the threshold of the front door, appearing to size up the scale of the home, before entering the foyer behind her and shutting the door firmly. Upon further consideration, he locked the deadbolt behind him, Y/N raising her eyebrow but saying nothing. 

“Good morning Y/N–” Seokjin bounded out of the kitchen, a strip of bacon in his hand on its way to his parted lips, freezing as he registered Namjoon behind her. Slowly, he lowered his arm, recovering pretty well once he noticed Y/N trying to juggle the packages and her tote bag threatening to crash to the ground, the jaguar hybrid promptly catching the bag and setting it carefully on the staircase. “Hello, Namjoon,” he greeted evenly, waving with his piece of bacon. Y/N snickered, Namjoon offering a short nod in response. 

“Did Yoongi make you some breakfast?” Y/N asked Seokjin, his tail flicking back and forth languidly as he shook his head. Upon mentioning the leopard hybrid’s name, the music upstairs abruptly cut short. Y/N was reminded once more of the hybrid’s incredible hearing, sending a shiver down her spine. No more late-night trips to the kitchen for some shredded cheese out of the bag. 

“No, Jimin,” was his response, nodding his head towards the kitchen. “Yoongi’s tinkering around on the piano, and hasn’t even come down yet. Nor Taehyung.”

“Mind if I take a look around?” Namjoon interjected, arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight into Y/N’s face, expression neutral. Clearing her throat, Y/N tried to make a “go ahead” motion with her arms while holding the packages. 

“Be my guest,” she side-eyed the box of things she had collected for him at the foot of the stairs, which he had yet to notice. “Find a bedroom you like, while you’re at it, and come find us after.”

“Sure,” Namjoon agreed absently, slowly taking off down the hall towards Jimin’s room. Thoughtfully munching on his bacon, Seokjin shrugged, following Y/N to the kitchen in her pursuit of a letter opener. 

At the island was Hoseok stirring cream into Y/N’s old Darth Vader mug, face puffy with sleep, and she caught a glimpse of Jimin by the stove dressed in his new jeans and the beige linen button down. Upon further examination, he had a bit of batter on his nose as he flipped a pancake expertly on the skillet. Hoseok offered her a sleepy smile, patting the bar stool next to him for her to sit while Seokjin swiped more bacon from the plate by Jimin at the stove. 

“Morning, Miss Y/N, would you like some pancakes, or bacon before Seokjin eats it all?” Jimin turned around, flinching as Seokjin attempted to collect the batter off of the coyote hybrid’s nose with an index finger. Snorting, she shook her head, feeling the cinnamon roll from the library cafe sitting in her stomach like a boulder. 

“No thanks, sweetheart, I got something to eat on the way home with Namjoon,” she answered easily, using the letter opener to hack open the packet from the bank. Hoseok, while stiffening at the sound of the wolf hybrid’s name, couldn’t help himself by nearly hooking his chin over Y/N’s shoulder to peer at the letter she was scanning, offering simple instructions for the card activations. Pulling out her phone, she followed the steps, smirking at the sound of Hoseok noisily slurping his coffee in her ear. 

As she was peeling the cards off of the papers from the packet, the glass slider behind her slid open, making her frown as she realized her and Namjoon could have entered that way after all. Peeking over her shoulder, she knew who it was before she got a good look– Jeongguk.

Dressed in every black item that Y/N had purchased for him, his complexion was a tad on the paler side, Jeongguk looked quite bewildered as he stumbled into the kitchen. Clearing his throat, he absently tossed a cigarette butt– smoked down to the filter– into the ashtray outside before shutting the door hastily. Frowning, Y/N stacked the credit cards on the table, wondering why he seemed so freaked out, but held her tongue out of stubbornness due to the previous night’s spat. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Hoseok called out, a note of disgust coloring his tone as he watched Jeongguk distractedly melt onto the booth of the breakfast bar. Jeongguk waved his hand dismissively, scribbling something down in his notebook with the pen from behind his ear. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok returned to his coffee while Y/N began to open up the box with the phones. 

“Morning,” Yoongi entered the room, a serene look on his face as he accepted a mug of coffee from Seokjin. It was nice to see some of the hybrids get along so amicably so far, and Y/N was trying to squash the small voice in her head telling her they were just putting on a front for her benefit. 

Putting the box of phones on the barstool next to her, Y/N double-checked to make sure the proper amount of devices were in there before taking her hat off to run her fingers through her hair. Eyes were on her as soon as the hat left her head, Y/N self-consciously wondering if her hair smelled sweaty or something. Jimin began to harshly wash pans immediately after, his honeyed strands of hair falling into his face as he worked. 

“Anyone seen Taehyung yet today? It’s almost noon, and he was the one most eager to go out today,” Seokjin remarked, passing a hand over his stomach as he returned uncooked bacon to the fridge. Y/N was unsurprised Taehyung had locked himself away while she was gone, considering he had even excused himself from the parlor yesterday as soon as she was unconscious. He didn’t seem to have any interest in getting to know the others. 

“He’s up. I heard his shower going while I was working on the piano,” Yoongi replied, cracking his knuckles as he went to sit across from Jeongguk at the breakfast bar. Either he was trying to bury the hatchet, or was keeping an eye on the elk hybrid; either way the latter hardly looked up from his notebook. 

“Working?” Y/N repeated with confusion, wondering if he was writing a musical or something. 

“Yeah, tuning it. You had a kit in the compartment under the piano bench, and some of the keys were a little flat,” Yoongi explained patiently, tracing a dainty pinky finger around the lip of his coffee mug while he spoke. This sparked excitement within her, thinking once again about lessons to inquire about at the music store later that afternoon, especially now that the piano was getting looked after by someone like Yoongi. 

“That song you were playing when I came home was very pretty,” Y/N complimented, hoping she, too, could play half as well as Yoongi one day. His cheeks turned pink, murmuring a thank-you, studiously staring out the window. 

Y/N passed her fingers over the glossy credit cards, the ridges of Namjoon’s name on the top card making her wonder where he had ended up. With Hoseok next to her, definitely more quiet than usual, she made a mental note to keep an eye on the fox hybrid that afternoon now that Namjoon would be joining them on their outing, or so she hoped. She still didn’t know if sad-sack Jeongguk would come with them, but leaving him alone in the house made her feel melancholy, even if he was a brat. 

“Hoseok, are you going to shower before we leave? I can smell the sweat coming off of you all the way from here,” Seokjin suddenly complained, leaning forward on the island to sniff in Hoseok’s direction dramatically. Hoseok let the comment roll off his shoulders, patronizingly stroking Seokjin’s hand from across the island with a grin. Displeasure washed over Seokjin’s lovely face comically.

“I’ll make sure to wait for you in the shower, cupcake. Maybe you should join me for a morning workout next time,” Hoseok pushed himself off of his barstool with a great heave, chuckling at Seokjin’s angry barking insults as he vanished from the room. 

“You should know by now not to try and out-fox the fox with verbal shell games, Seokjin. It’s getting embarrassing for all of us, at this point,” Yoongi called out from the breakfast bar, making Y/N chortle loudly. Seokjin frowned, his tail flicking back and forth in an agitated manner. 

“Alright, come on,” Y/N sighed, brushing away a tear of amusement from the corner of her eye, “I’ve got something for you guys. Figured you’d need these in this great age of technology,” she stood, scooping up several phone boxes from the open package to deal out like cards, sliding one each across the island to Jimin and Seokjin before delivering two more to Yoongi and Jeongguk at the breakfast bar.

The room was so quiet, a pin could drop and it would sound like a gunshot as each hybrid stared at their phone boxes, Y/N biting her lip as Jeongguk took his phone from her like a live grenade. 

“Uh, remind me to give you my number when you set the phones up, just in case anything happens and you can’t find me physically, or something,” Y/N babbled, wondering if now was a bad time to pass out the credit cards, considering the astounded looks on everyone’s faces. “Hmm. I guess I should look for Taehyung… Namjoon too. We’ll leave in about a half hour?” She continued upon further silence from the hybrids, catching Seokjin examining the box of his new cell phone like it was an exotic insect. 

Yoongi nodded robotically, Jimin whispering something to Seokjin as they both read the back of their phone boxes. Tucking the credit cards in her skirt pocket and scooping up the remaining phones, she offered the stunned hybrids a warm smile before heading towards the hallway. Jimin looked like he wanted to follow Y/N, but Seokjin caught his wrist and started to point at something on the box. 

In the hallway, Y/N took a deep breath, nearly stumbling over Namjoon’s box of items by the stairs. Cursing, she regained her balance, almost toppling over again as she heard the door to the green room from behind her creak loudly. Dread flooded through her in an instant, praying the old hag ghost wasn’t two paces from breathing down her neck. Spinning around, she was relieved to see Namjoon peeking his head out from behind the door, an eyebrow raised. 

“Sorry, you startled me,” Y/N breathed, Namjoon stepping out into the hall with a grunt of acknowledgement. 

“I think the sooner you do that protection ritual, the better you’ll feel,” Namjoon remarked, hands on hips. He wasn’t wrong about that, Y/N thought. “This room taken?” He nodded towards the green room where Seokjin had stayed. 

“No, you can have it,” Y/N tried her best not to shy away from his close proximity, the sensation of him towering over her a bit overwhelming. “This box is for you, some clothes to get you through the next couple of weeks and toiletries. Oh, this too,” Y/N nudged the box on the floor before remembering the phones in her hand, hastily handing one over to him. Eyebrows furrowed, he pocketed the phone swiftly, more interested in the contents of the box of clothes he kneeled down to take a look at. 

“Hey, we’re all going to head out into town in a bit to get some fresh air, and you’re invited as well, of course,” Y/N said, suddenly feeling shy as he leafed through some of the shirts she had chosen for him. Namjoon hummed, the sound slightly gravelly, his ear flickering. 

“I’ll go with you,” Namjoon agreed, stretching back up to his full height, his face softer than she had seen it before, at least directed towards her. “Thanks, by the way,” he added gently, lifting the box off the ground, taking one last look at her before hauling it into his room.

Reeling, Y/N absently trudged up the stairs, unable to get the look he had on his face out of her head. A ghost of the fondness he had shown for her mother reflected in Namjoon’s expression, and even if it lasted for a moment, it felt precious to her. As she reached the second floor, she heard Hoseok’s whistling from the basement. Hastening to Taehyung’s room, Y/N paused to listen for any movement, but heard nothing. Before she could knock, the door flung open, Y/N’s jaw hanging open as she dropped her hand limply. 

“Are we leaving?” Taehyung leaned against the door jamb, dressed in his blue long-sleeve and dark jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower, ringlets surrounding his face like a cherub. Tapping his foot, Taehyung seemed eager to embark on their outing as he peered out into the hallway, scanning the surroundings. 

“Shortly, yes,” Y/N replied, the scent of sandalwood coming off of him powerfully. As they started down the hall together, Y/N chatting mindlessly about the events of the morning and giving him his phone, she couldn’t help but think that Taehyung had to be one of the easiest to talk to. 

Like Jimin, Taehyung listened intently, but wasn’t so intense in his gaze as she talked, having more of a calming– as opposed to dazzling– effect on her. Out of everyone, he seemed to be the most excited about the phone, opening it immediately and passing it to Y/N to plug in her phone number. She did so blindly as they reached the kitchen, Taehyung sticking to her side closely as she created a contact for herself. 

The kitchen was in a bit of commotion as they entered, Hoseok loudly complaining about Seokjin polishing off the bacon, and Jimin trying to keep up his carefully-constructed patience as he told Seokjin how to turn on his phone. Yoongi had migrated to the coffee bar, apparently making himself a to-go cup, and Jeongguk was already typing away on his new phone at the breakfast nook. 

Y/N made her rounds putting her number in the other’s phones, Jeongguk reluctantly parting with his when she reached him. She endured the awkwardness of their interaction, the words he spat the previous night hovering in the air starkly. She could tell, by the set of his jaw, that Jeongguk was likely recalling the events, avoiding her eyes expertly. Feeling Taehyung breathing down her neck as she punched the digits into Jeongguk’s phone, Y/N hurriedly handed it back to the elk hybrid, who was huffing impatiently. At least, she thought distantly, he had the decency to look a little sheepish when she smiled at him sweetly. 

When Namjoon entered the kitchen, every head turned to look at him. Y/N only registered the disturbance when she couldn’t hear Hoseok and Seokjin bickering anymore, looking up from Jimin’s phone with interest. Namjoon, standing stiffly at the threshold of the kitchen, scanned each hybrid briefly, spending a little more time watching Taehyung linger at Y/N’s side at the sink. Returning Jimin’s phone to him, Y/N cleared her throat, nervously shooting a glance at Hoseok, who had either subconsciously or accidentally pulled Seokjin in front of him like some kind of meat-shield. Even Yoongi, wiping down the counter, seemed perturbed by the wolf hybrid’s presence, his ears turned downwards. The tension in the room was nearly suffocating, all of the ease vanishing as soon as Namjoon walked in. 

“Well, now that everyone’s here, we can head out now,” Y/N clapped once in an attempt to dissolve some of the tension, only succeeding in making Jimin jump in surprise. Patting his back gingerly in apology, she inched towards Namjoon without Taehyung following her like a shadow, to her surprise, while desperately hoping to corral everyone out to the car in one piece. “Ready?”

Y/N walked in tandem with Namjoon out the front door, counting heads like a school teacher as each hybrid exited the house. They grouped together in cliques, Yoongi and Jimin, Seokjin and Hoseok– Jeongguk, of course, was by himself but stayed close to Yoongi curiously enough. The five lingering by the Land Cruiser kept considerable distance from both Taehyung and Namjoon, who also appeared to stay clear of one another. 

Without a question, the rest of the hybrids said nothing as Namjoon slid into the passenger seat promptly, Taehyung reluctantly climbing into the seat behind Y/N. Seokjin, mumbling about Hoseok pushing him too harshly, crammed himself in the third row of the car beside Jeongguk followed by the fox hybrid. Before Namjoon could put the horrid Rolling Stones tape on again, Y/N switched on the radio, a Britney Spears song filling the car with a bit of sunshine. Once again, Yoongi found himself in the center seat of the second row with a grimace on his face, making eye contact with Y/N in the rearview. Trying to appear apologetic, she gave him a half-smile as she pulled out into the street. Hoseok began to whistle along to the tune of Gimme More. 

After finding a decent parking spot at the cluster of shops in the middle of the town and passing out the hybrid’s new credit cards, everyone flooded out into the square in a mostly orderly manner. They parked closest to the music store, which was right across from Judy’s metaphysical shop where Y/N was planning to pick up hours to pay for all future expenses. Seokjin, kindly, held the door open for everyone to enter the dusty-smelling music store, smiling politely at an elderly woman ambling in behind Y/N. 

Upon entering the store, everyone peeled off in different directions. Shiny electric guitars, polished brass trumpets, and long coiled bunches of cables hung from the pegboard walls, large drum kits and cases of vinyls were strewn in every direction. The place was sensory overload, positively crammed with inventory and unique looking people working behind the counters, unfazed by the seven hybrids running all over the place. Namjoon, of course, was by the single small bin by the front door overflowing with two dollar tapes. Passing by Taehyung at the jazz vinyl shelf, Y/N made her way to the far corner of the shop where the piano sheet music was displayed in crates, Yoongi scanning a thin booklet in his delicate hands, his spotted tail curling around his leg placidly. 

Curiously, and not without the feeling that she had no idea what she was looking at, Y/N pawed through a crate of piano music from movies, trying her best to give Yoongi enough space to move around in the tight corner. She fumbled with a book filled with the score from Grease, suddenly aware of the gold-green eyes burning a hole into her cheek while she was trying to decipher the foreign symbols evidently depicting musical notes. Glancing at Yoongi out of the corner of her eye, she sighed, putting the book down upon seeing his wry grin.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Y/N groaned, too shy to venture up to the counter and ask the middle-aged man with a graying ponytail and scally cap about lessons. “I can’t even read sheet music– the guy giving me my lessons would probably laugh me out of the practice room. The window of learning this type of thing has probably closed for me anyways.”

Yoongi scoffed, leaning his hip against the crate he was previously leafing through, a stack of booklets tucked under his arm. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the pout shadowing Y/N face. 

“That’s all bullshit, anyone can learn to play an instrument at any age,” Yoongi started, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear, “You know, I could just teach you piano. We can do weekly lessons, and start small. Why bother paying someone here when you have a piano and a teacher already at home?” 

Mouth opening and closing, Y/N squeaked out something like what, realization crashing down on her embarrassingly. She hadn’t even thought to ask Yoongi, and he brought up an excellent point– for what reason should she drive down to the music shop weekly for lessons when she could play the old piano at home that sparked the interest in the first place. Expectantly, Yoongi searched her face, waiting for a coherent answer to his proposition. 

“You’d do that? I mean, that would be great– I’d really love that,” Y/N managed, Yoongi nodding purposefully. Showing her a booklet from the stack under his arm, Y/N read the title: Piano Classics for Beginners. Heat blooming in her cheeks, she realized Yoongi must have hatched this plan on the ride into town. 

“We can start with this. I think Fridays would be good for lessons, that way you’ll have all week to familiarize yourself with the piano until our first one,” he tapped the cover of the book as he spoke, thinly veiled excitement showing on his expression. Glowing, Y/N agreed fervently, absolutely enthralled to have both lessons and an opportunity to bond with Yoongi on her horizon. 

Yoongi went back to sorting through the piano books, eyeing each title carefully. Still riding the high of his offer, Y/N left the leopard hybrid in search of Seokjin or Hoseok. The two were arguing by the counter, Hoseok audibly more loud than the jaguar hybrid, one of the women working behind the counter awkwardly fiddling with a roll of quarters as she witnessed the dispute. Frowning, Y/N approached, trying not to panic that Hoseok was leaning his back against a wobbly and expensive looking French horn on a stand. 

“How could you just watch him stroll right by and out the door? You were right there next to the bulletin board, Hoseok,” Seokjin pointed to the front of the shop, eyes bulging out of his skull as his tail flicked back and forth in an urgent manner. Hoseok groaned, arms crossed over his chest as he noticed Y/N standing in front of them. 

“What happened? Hoseok, please, you’re going to knock that over,” Y/N pulled him closer to her by his upper arm, away from the French horn the woman behind the counter was anxiously staring at. 

“Jeongguk left, like five minutes ago. Hoseok just told me,” Seokjin pushed a worried hand through his blue-black waves, eyebrows pulled together in distress as if he was about to be scolded. Not ideal, Y/N thought.

“It’s okay, he has a phone now, remember? He probably went out for a smoke or to check out another store. I’ll give him a call if he doesn’t turn up in the next fifteen minutes,” Y/N tried her best to soothe Seokjin, although she was worried herself that Jeongguk was already hitchhiking halfway to Vermont. 

“That’s what I tried to explain to him, but he managed to blame me for Jeongguk’s departure,” Hoseok groaned, clearly exasperated by the whole conversation. Seokjin shot him a thanks a lot look. 

Scanning the shop, Y/N realized that Jeongguk wasn’t the only one missing. Jimin, too, had vanished, and Namjoon looked ready to leave by the door with a plastic bag full of tapes as well. Taehyung and Yoongi were in line around the opposite side of the counter ready to make their own purchases. Chewing her lip, she turned back to Hoseok, knowing he had likely seen Jimin leave as well. 

“Did you happen to see Jimin leave?” Y/N asked, catching Hoseok’s attention mid-glare directed at Seokjin. 

“Yeah, he went to go look for the elk,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, finally maintaining distance from the French horn as Y/N yanked him away from it once more. Breathing a small sigh of relief that she already had someone out there searching for Jeongguk, Y/N waited patiently for Taehyung and Yoongi to check out and make their way to Namjoon by the door. 

“Find anything good?” Y/N asked both Taehyung and Namjoon as they exited the shop, trying to ignore the bickering behind her coming from Seokjin and Hoseok, even Yoongi joining in on the pettiness. 

Taehyung clutched his flat paper bag filled with his goods close to his chest, a warm smile across his lips, slightly pulling one of the vinyls out to show her a Mad Season record. Y/N recalled she never asked him what he was going to say about that band. Namjoon, swinging the bag in his fist as they walked out into the bricked courtyard, looked down at Y/N in a detached way. 

“They had folk tapes, mostly. I saved the least… grating ones from the bin,” Namjoon replied slowly, eyes going from her face to Taehyung’s, an ounce of suspicion in his voice. 

Nodding, Y/N could palpably feel ice forming between the wolf and Kodiak hybrids as they stared at one another, wondering what possibly could have happened in the short span of time spent together to warrant the hostility in their eyes. Considering the amount of the hybrids that already disliked one another; Hoseok and Namjoon, Jeongguk and everyone else, and now Namjoon and Taehyung, Y/N felt that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. She held no regrets, of course, but she definitely had the feeling that she’d need some help from her friends to get the hybrids to loosen up a bit at the cookout on Friday to prevent a bloodbath. 

Shivering at a particularly brisk breeze rolling by, Y/N searched the courtyard for any sightings of Jimin or Jeongguk, spotting Jimin’s honeyed head of hair peering into the window of the bookstore. Ditching the two hybrids in their icy stare-off, she hurried over to the coyote hybrid, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets as he strolled further away from her to the next storefront. 

“Jimin!” Y/N called after him, his ears immediately perking up as he swiveled around to look at her. His expression changed from happy surprise to guilt almost instantly, halting his movements as she made her way to his side. “Any luck finding Jeongguk?” 

“No, I’m sorry, Miss Y/N,” Jimin wrung his hands together, eyebrows pinching together in likely annoyance towards the elk hybrid. Patting his forearm gently, Y/N sighed. 

“It’s alright, Jimin, I appreciate you coming out here to look for him, though,” Y/N fumbled for her phone in her tote bag, ready to find Jeongguk’s number and call him. In the car earlier, she had each of them send her a text so she’d have all their contacts as well. Hoseok sent her a fox emoji, Seokjin and Jimin a simple “hello”, but all Jeongguk had sent was a period. 

“Y/N, I think he’s in there,” Hoseok shouted from across the courtyard, pointing dramatically at the storefront towards the exit. Squinting, Y/N barked out a laugh in disbelief, because of course Jeongguk had wandered into the metaphysical shop that happened to be her future employer. 

“Thanks, Hoseok!” Y/N panted, jogging over with Jimin to where most of the hybrids had clumped around by the metaphysical shop. “You guys can go into whatever store you like now– I have to stop in here anyways, and it’ll probably be for about a half hour. We can meet up after by the fountain over there, and get some ice cream before heading back. Okay?” 

Hoseok took one look at the sign for the metaphysical shop, frowned, before giving her a thumbs-up and dragging Seokjin towards the chocolate shop two doors down. Taehyung, still glaring at Namjoon, followed Yoongi and Jimin to the bookstore, while the wolf hybrid remained by Y/N’s side. Watching the others go made a smile grow across her face, the tension dissolving from the air as Y/N could see closer bonds already being formed– Hoseok’s arm slung around Seokjin’s shoulders, Jimin laughing at something Yoongi had uttered in his ear. 

“You coming in with me?” Y/N nodded towards the tinted glass door of Judy’s metaphysical shop upon noticing Namjoon not budging from her side. 

“I’d prefer to keep an eye on that elk hybrid. Him slipping away again might cause another fiasco,” Namjoon replied calmly, Y/N raising her eyebrows. She wouldn’t have categorized the last fifteen minutes as a fiasco, actually congratulating herself for remaining calm, however perhaps he could sense the underlying dread that had been flooding through her. Shrugging, she mumbled a “thank you” bashfully as he opened the door for her, the jingling of the witch bells fastened to the door announcing their arrival. 

It was dark in the small shop, and absolutely reeking of myrrh incense. Enya played on a CD player by the door, dim fabric colored lamplight allowing some visibility for the crowded shelves of candles, books, statues, and other oddities. In the corner of the shop, by the table of amulets, was Jeongguk, turning over a silver object between his thumb and forefinger. Not even bothering to inform him that they had formed a search party after his unannounced departure from the music store, Y/N found her way to the case in the back of the shop, which served as the checkout counter and a jewelry display. No one was behind the case– Judy must have been in the back room where tarot readings were held. Namjoon shuffled his feet behind her, running his fingers over a beautiful chunk of amethyst on the crystal table. 

Leaning on the case, Y/N admired bejeweled athames within it laying on beds of velvet. The shop was filled with so much inventory, and judging by the humongous book by the ancient register, it seemed everything was cataloged by hand. Y/N would certainly have her work cut out for her learning all of the wares, not to mention trying to recall what everything was used for or even called. 

“Oh, the wolf. How nice,” Jeongguk suddenly commented, noisily setting red candles, a stack of incense, and the silver amulet he had been holding when they came in on the checkout case. The amulet was some kind of saint medallion, but because Y/N was unfamiliar with Christianity, she had no idea who it was. Namjoon said nothing, heading over to the bookcase and pulling out leather-bound grimoires at random. 

“Hmm. These are pretty,” Y/N remained civil, examining one of the beautiful hand-dipped candles Jeongguk picked out. He grunted in response, impatiently tapping on the glass of the case and staring at the beaded curtain to the tarot reading room. 

Sighing, Y/N set her gaze on Namjoon while he was turned away, the muscles of his back flexing and relaxing as he hefted a large book off the shelf to leaf through. As if sensing that she was staring, Namjoon’s face tilted to the side, the length of his eyelashes catching lamplight as he locked eyes with her. Reddening, Y/N broke eye contact, not being able to shake the feeling that there was a certain familiarity in the color of his eyes. She could hear Namjoon approaching the case once more, Jeongguk groaning as he pulled a tattooed hand through his hair in exasperation. 

The clattering sound of wooden beads knocking together made for a good excuse to ignore the fact that Namjoon had returned to his spot behind her, once again crowding her against the glass case like he had at the library cafe. Judy, the shop owner and close friend of her mother, abruptly barrelled into the room from the back, carrying a large, old wooden chest she heaved onto the workbench behind the case the three of them were standing in front of. Pushing her rectangular spectacles up her nose distractedly, Judy’s crystal bracelets made clanging noises as she held up a single sun-weathered finger up to the three patrons waiting for her attention. 

Jeongguk shifted next to Y/N, looking aggravated as the woman began to leaf through the contents of the wooden chest. From behind her, Namjoon slid a well-worn copy of some sort of supernatural encyclopedia onto the case, his fingers accidentally brushing her forearm leaning onto the glass before yanking his hand away like he was burned. Gritting her teeth, wishing that either Hoseok or Taehyung were there to bring her a sense of ease, Y/N coiled her arms around her midsection as she tried to get space sandwiched between the elk and wolf hybrids. 

“Y/N, wonderful to see you after so long. Gentlemen,” Judy began after several moments of muttering to herself looking through the wooden chest, finally facing and greeting them standing before her. “Sorry for the wait. My assistant– er, son– recently went off to college, so it’s been difficult for me to keep track of my papers and whatnot…” 

Judy rang up Jeongguk’s items as she spoke, punching numbers into the old cash register noisily and pulling out tissue paper to wrap the candles. Glancing at her watch, Y/N made sure they still had time to meet the others without having to scramble. 

“My mother came to see you, am I right?” Y/N smiled at Judy, who was carefully tucking Namjoon’s book into a paper bag. Nodding with a chuckle, Judy pushed a curly strand of sandy hair from her face. 

“Oh, yes. Making promises without you being here– can you start next week?” Judy pulled out a packet of paper she had retrieved from the chest earlier, handing it to Y/N promptly. Snorting, Y/N flipped through the packet of inventory she was to learn, nodding sagely. Hopefully, by next week, the hybrids would be fairly settled in enough for her to leave them for a few hours. 

“How many days a week would you need me?” Y/N absently handed her credit card over to pay for Jeongguk and Namjoon’s items, forgetting that they had their own. Jeongguk made a noise of surprise, stuffing his card back into the pocket of his black jeans. 

“Only three; Monday, Wednesday, Thursday. Business has been slow ever since the colleges are back in session, and my son can come back on the weekends to help out. Sounds good?” Judy returned Y/N’s credit card to her, sliding the bag of items across the case towards Jeongguk, who she eyed in a thoughtful way. 

“That works for me,” Y/N agreed, although partly concerned that a three day work week wouldn’t garner much for a paycheck. 

“Here, honey. I think this will help you. Wrapped it up for you this morning,” Judy added suddenly, reaching behind her desk in the corner for an item. Accepting it, Y/N turned the smoke cleansing stick of cedar and rosemary over in her hands, positively amazed. She had forgotten Judy was a psychic medium, likely picking up on her need to cleanse and protect her home, and chose the perfect botanicals to assist her in that endeavor unprompted. 

“Thank you, Judy,” Y/N said sincerely, carefully tucking the herb bundle into the bag Jeongguk had in his hand. Judy waved her off, thanking her for picking up the hours at the shop, before a young woman came through the shop door for a scheduled psychic reading. Taking it as their cue to leave, Y/N corralled Jeongguk out the door, Namjoon following close behind her. 

Taking a lungful of incense-free air outside, Y/N felt hopeful about her new job. While it was likely an in-between before her next career move, it was refreshing to work someplace so vastly different. Jeongguk asked where they were meeting the others, walking very quickly to the fountain that Y/N had pointed to and away from her and Namjoon in a seemingly disturbed manner. Craning her neck up and back to look at Namjoon, she caught his narrowed eyes following Jeongguk’s form, jaw set dangerously. Clearing her throat, she managed to snag his attention, a degree of hostility slipping from his expression as their eyes met. 

“You’re going to work there?” Namjoon asked questions in the form of fact confirmation, Y/N noticed. 

“Mm-hmm. Just until I figure out what to do next,” Y/N replied, Namjoon’s half-torn ear fluttering lightly as she spoke. She wondered what had happened to it, with a feeling of melancholy flooding through her. “Gotta pay the bills in the meantime.”

“Things would be better, if the rest of us could actually get jobs,” Namjoon bit, Y/N feeling a tad awkward in his reference to the law forbidding hybrid employment. Not that it stopped certain businesses from exploiting hybrid labor illegally, which is what happened to Yoongi and likely some of the others. 

“I won’t deny the truth in that, Namjoon,” Y/N muttered lamely, not really knowing what else to add. It’s not like change in the medieval laws about hybrids would happen overnight, as much as she wished it would. All she could do was take the best possible care of her hybrids, and hope that as time passed things would change for the better. 

Namjoon was quiet after that, walking slowly by her side as they made their way to the fountain at the center of the courtyard. Everyone was waiting for them already, each with a bag or two of things that they had bought from various stores, Yoongi lazily lying on his side on the ledge of the fountain and enjoying the afternoon sun. 

“Y/N!” Hoseok sang, startling her as he skipped from around the fountain once her and Namjoon approached the meeting spot. Aggressively, Hoseok grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from Namjoon without sparing him a glance and pulling her to the opposite side of the fountain. Heart slamming up into her throat at Hoseok’s firm grip, she barely registered him straightening her out by her shoulders as he pushed her in front of Seokjin. 

“Look, Jin got these for the cookout you’re having,” Hoseok nudged Seokjin, who was holding a startlingly large bucket of toffee from the chocolate shop. Seokjin looked embarrassed, his cheeks pink and rounded as he sheepishly held out the bucket for Y/N to see. Immediately, she turned to mush at the thought of Seokjin picking out something to contribute at the cookout, and he was clearly proud of his choice, particularly when he gauged the joyful reaction on her face. 

“Wow Seokjin, everyone will love those, they look delicious! That was so kind of you, honey,” Y/N gushed, the red in Seokjin’s cheeks deepening as he lifted the lid off of the toffee so she could take a look. The slabs of toffee wafted a buttery scent, making her mouth water. Seokjin plucked a small shard of the toffee out of the bucket, suddenly grinning slyly. 

“Here, try some,” Seokjin lifted the piece of toffee to poise inches from her lips, stunning Y/N as her mouth dropped open involuntarily in shock. Absently hearing Hoseok chuckle, Y/N stood stunned as Seokjin pushed the toffee between her lips, the confection immediately beginning to melt in her mouth as he pulled his hand away. 

“Good?” Seokjin mused, tilting his head playfully. Positively burning up, Y/N carefully chewed the toffee as Seokjin smirked at her, closing up the tub. Tearing her gaze from him, her eyes regretfully landed on Hoseok, who sent her a cheeky wink. 

“Delicious,” Y/N murmured, feeling scandalized in front of the two hybrids clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. Did she really just let Seokjin feed her?

“Shall we get ice cream now, darling?” Hoseok shoved his hands in his pockets, still grinning at her smugly. Rolling her shoulders back, she agreed, casting a look over her shoulder as she felt someone approach from behind. To her relief, it was Taehyung, shooting a wary look at the peanut gallery in front of Y/N. 

Hurrying to Taehyung’s side with her cheeks still aflame, Y/N did her best to round everyone else up and usher them into the old-fashioned ice cream parlor to wrap up their afternoon outing. The parlor was filled with the scents of rich fudge and waffle cones, and the space was quite limiting with the eight of them jammed against the glass display case of gallons of ice cream. 

Y/N was pushed by Namjoon’s frame behind her into Jimin’s side by the register, patiently relaying each ice cream order as Jimin calmly repeated them to her in her ear. The teenaged boy taking the orders seemed to be overwhelmed by the amount of hybrids in the parlor at one given time, staring at Jeongguk’s antlers with shock as the elk hybrid elbowed his way towards Y/N to request some mint chocolate chip ice cream, which made Namjoon make a sound akin to gagging from behind her. 

Since there was hardly any room for everyone to sit inside the shop to enjoy their ice cream, Y/N opted to bring everyone back to the fountain to eat. She sat in between Yoongi and Taehyung, managing to keep her distance from Seokjin and Hoseok for the moment. They appeared to still be yucking it up at her expense, sitting together on the grass a little ways from her feet. Jeongguk took his ice cream to the opposite side of the fountain, playing some kind video on his phone in a foreign language; one that sounded pretty close to Latin. 

Namjoon had found a spot to enjoy his coffee ice cream on a bench not too far from the fountain, Y/N able to keep an eye on him. She regretfully realized she did nothing but fill him up on sugar and coffee since he had come into her care, as she shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, watching the wolf hybrid admire the yellowing leaves of the tree he was under. 

“Hmm. I forgot to ask… Do you have a record player back at your house?” Taehyung spoke lowly, his voice hard to hear over the babbling of the fountain behind them. He had long finished the small cup of strawberry soft-serve he held balanced between his knees, his records placed neatly by his feet. 

“Yeah, there’s a set-up somewhere in the room with the piano. It’s likely in one of those big cabinets, my uncle was a vinyl collector when he grew up there in the 70’s. His collection of records is in the garage, too, if you wanna pick through that when you get bored,” Y/N recalled, licking some cream from her lips in thought. She prayed that the record player still worked, although a new system would make an excellent Christmas present for Taehyung. 

Taehyung leaned back on his palms, gazing at her through the thick of eyelashes. His hair was dry by now, curly and wild with the wind that mussed the strands, hiding his rounded ears in the volume of it. Y/N noticed that Jimin, who was sitting beside Taehyung, had very obviously placed his shopping bag of books between them to get some space. She could tell he was listening to their conversation, with the way Jimin’s ears were angled forward and alert, twitching to the sound of Taehyung’s deep tone. 

“How was the ice cream, Taehyung?” Y/N crumpled up her napkin into her own empty cup, sighing contentedly. 

“Very good,” Taehyung murmured, suddenly dropping the eye contact he’d been maintaining. Like all of the hybrids, Y/N swore that they held some sort of spellbinding power in their gazes. “Thank you,” he added, absently clicking his heels together while staring at his sneakers. 

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N waved her hand, feeling embarrassed. 

“Ah, maybe I should have gotten the matcha ice cream…” Yoongi suddenly lamented beside her, elbows leaning on his knees. Frowning, Y/N turned to him, forgetting he was so close as her thigh pressed into his. Immediately, Yoongi stiffened, peering at her intensely through the corner of his eye. 

“Oh no, was the lemon sorbet gross?” Y/N felt her lip jutting out in a pout, disappointed Yoongi was unsatisfied with his half-melted treat. Yoongi cleared his throat awkwardly as he tore his eyes from her face, choosing to glare at Hoseok on the ground instead. 

“No–” 

“You should have gotten the matcha. It’s amazing,” Hoseok insisted, a smugness worming its way into his tone as he both cut Yoongi off and took a loud bite of the waffle cone he was eating. “Want some?” 

Hoseok extended his mostly-devoured cone towards Yoongi, who screwed up his face in disgust. Snorting softly, Y/N shook her head at Hoseok, his cheekiness seeming to get under everyone’s skin– Y/N found it endearing. 

“Get that out of my face, Foxy,” Yoongi complained, leaning closer to Y/N and firmly pressing his thigh into hers as he extended his leg to push Hoseok over with his foot. It was Y/N’s turn to go stiff, the warmth of Yoongi’s leg against the flimsiness of her tights overwhelming. She barely registered Hoseok tumbling over into Seokjin’s lap with an evil cackle, Seokjin nearly choking on a bite of his chocolate ice cream cone as he tried to fling Hoseok’s head off of his leg.

Feeling a chill wash over her despite the warmth coming from the contact with Yoongi, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, rubbing her arms to rid herself of goosebumps. She had no idea why she was feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, the sensation close to how she felt moments before the incident with the ghost the night before. Trying to nonchalantly take in the surroundings, praying that there wasn’t some sort of apparition following her around now, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Namjoon from his spot on the bench. 

Oh, so that’s where the chill was coming from, she realized, the expression on Namjoon’s face icy and closed off as he glared at her. His body language was coiled and tense, jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed fractionally once they caught hers. Hair stood up on the back of her neck as she was unable to look away from him, absolutely at a loss for why he seemed so pissed off at her. She hadn’t even spoken to him in at least twenty minutes; perhaps he was feeling left out? Y/N cocked her head at him, mouthing are you okay? 

Namjoon simply sucked in his cheeks, getting up from his seat and tossing his ice cream cup in the trash by the bench. Concerned, Y/N watched him storm off in the direction of the car, torn between wanting to go after him and not wanting to rush the others who were still eating and enjoying their afternoon. After a few more moments of distractedly listening to Hoseok tease Yoongi, who had thankfully inched away from her, she got up with Jimin to gather up trash and dispose of it where Namjoon had minutes prior. Namjoon had left his bag of tapes on the bench accidentally, as Jimin pointed out keenly. 

“How are you doing, Jimin? Find some new books?” Y/N tried to stop worrying about what she had done to tick Namjoon off, scooping up his bag of tapes carefully. Jimin held his book bag behind his back in his clasped hands, grinning down at her kindly. 

“Sure did, Miss Y/N. I wanted to pick up some local interest literature, to get an idea of what this area is like,” Jimin explained as they headed to the car, quickly placing a gentle hand on her back to direct her away from a divot in the grass that would have caused her a rolled ankle. “Watch your step, there.”

“That’s right, you’re not from around here. How long have you been away from Montana?” Y/N wondered, breathing a sigh of relief that she could spot Namjoon leaning against the car from about twenty feet away. Jimin was quiet for a moment, a sort of sad look in his golden eyes while he processed her question. 

“A little over a month, now,” Jimin responded wistfully, the corner of his mouth turning upwards as he met her eyes. Y/N recalled that there was a possibility Jimin had a family back in Montana, one that had no idea where he had ended up. The thought pierced through her heart painfully. 

Jimin helped her load everyone's bags into the trunk, Y/N carefully avoiding Namjoon as she took Jeongguk’s bag from him gingerly, offering him a small smile. He was truly becoming an expert in abstaining from eye contact with her. Closing the trunk, she stretched her arms out as she waited for everyone to get into the car, Namjoon still leaning against the passenger door with a scowl. Steeling herself, she approached him. 

“I grabbed your tapes, you left them on the bench,” Y/N started, Namjoon’s eyes narrowing at the sound of her voice. He looked her up and down, seemingly analyzing the way she was nervously rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. He didn’t respond to her, increasing her anxiety while he simply stood there imposingly.

“Is everything alright, Namjoon?” Y/N managed to squeak after a beat, the impulse to squirm under his scrutinizing extremely overpowering. His ears were turned back, straightening up to his full height to grasp the handle of the car door.

“Sure,” he replied flatly, yanking the door open and heaving himself in, slamming it in her face as she flinched backwards. Even more confused than she was before trying to speak with him, Y/N numbly got into the driver’s seat, feeling the tension between her and the wolf hybrid beside her so intensely it nearly took her breath away. 

Shakily, Y/N turned the radio on as per Hoseok’s request from the back seat, somewhat relieved that the others didn’t seem to sense her discomfort from what she could tell. Before pulling away from the plaza, Y/N checked the rearview to make sure everybody was accounted for, locking eyes with Yoongi accidentally. He had a knowing look on his face, gaze flicking between her and the back of Namjoon’s head, tracing a finger over his lower lip. Grimacing, Y/N threw the car in reverse, promptly ignoring the wolf hybrid next to her for the short duration of the ride back to the house. 

After pulling into the driveway back at home, to Y/N’s surprise, everyone divided off in different directions. Yoongi had gone up to the piano with Taehyung in search of the record player, Hoseok to the basement with Seokjin, and Jeongguk had disappeared in the backyard with a cigarette and one of his new candles. Both Jimin and Namjoon had retreated to their respective bedrooms, leaving Y/N by herself standing awkwardly in the foyer. 

Kicking off her shoes, Y/N figured she could take a shower and cozy up in bed with a movie before one of them sought her out again. She tiptoed past Namjoon’s room on her way to her’s, hoping that she wouldn’t provoke him into further annoyance considering their rooms were so close together. Even with his door shut tight, Y/N felt like he could see through the wood as she went by. Shivering, she recalled the small, sweet smile he offered her just hours ago, trying to wrack her brain to come up with an explanation of his soured mood. 

Perhaps she should have articulated her thoughts better during their conversation surrounding the hybrids getting jobs, but there was not much she could do about that now that so much time had passed. Entering her room, she rubbed her eyes, feeling the chill from the drafty bathroom window enticing her to curl up in bed with sweats. To her shock, either Jeongguk or Namjoon had left the herb bundle from Judy on her nightstand, although she caught neither of them sneaking into her room when they arrived home. She was a bit distracted, however, telling Taehyung exactly where to look for the record player upstairs. Either way, her heart squeezed, fingers brushing over the herb bundle.

After a brief shower, Y/N hightailed it out of her bathroom to prevent another ghostly encounter, dressing in her softest sweatpants and crawling into bed with her laptop. Supposing that now was as good a time as any to figure out how to cleanse the house, Y/N put a Halloween movie on while she scribbled out her general plan for the ritual. Between the campy noise of the film she had on and the tinkering sound of the piano from upstairs, Y/N began to feel ease slip into her body. The fact that the house was so full of life now was hard for Y/N to believe, even if it came with some difficulties so far, it felt so right. 

Just as she had finished the steps for her ritual, which she had planned to do the following morning at dawn, her phone pinged. Thinking it was one of the hybrids, Y/N fumbled for her phone tangled somewhere in her quilt, pushing wet hair out of her face. Humming in excitement upon realizing the message was from Alice, Y/N shut her movie off, scooching down further in bed. 

Alice Santos: facetime now okay?

Without responding, Y/N clicked the icon to call her, both excited to catch up with one of her closest friends and nervous to announce her adoptions of all the hybrids. She had a feeling Alice would be a bit more dramatic than Ben had been. The phone rang twice before Alice’s face appeared on the screen, squealing upon seeing Y/N. 

“Hold on, hold on. Before you say anything, I’m adding Laura to the call,” Alice’s raspy voice filled Y/N with warmth, her nails clacking against the screen as she searched for her twin sister’s contact. Y/N could hear Alice’s cat, Heathcliff, mewing loudly at her from his spot on the couch beside her. 

Seconds later, Laura, lovely as ever, popped onto the screen as well, sitting in a rocking chair with her son Kai on her lap. Both Y/N and Alice cooed at the boy, just shy of two years old, his chubby little cheeks smeared with a bit of applesauce Laura was trying to feed him. 

“I miss you guys so much!” Y/N whined, recalling the last time she saw both of them– a little over a month ago at Alice’s poetry book release party. 

Alice worked as an editor for a local paper, which often took up most of her time, up until she published her book. Now, she was busier than ever doing pop-up readings and working on her newest book, on top of the work from the paper. Y/N was extremely proud of Alice’s accomplishments; her dreams of becoming a successful writer as a kid started to come true right before her eyes. 

Similarly, Laura had her hands full with not only her two year old son, but the vlog channel she created after Kai’s birth to document motherhood with her husband Tyler as the faithful cameraman. The channel took off, thanks to Laura’s infectious sunshine personality and creativity, her videos featuring recipes, craft tutorials, and Q&A’s. 

“I miss you more, Y/N, how did the job exit go? Are you free finally?” Alice produced a bowl of ice cream from behind the phone camera, curling into a ball on her tiny couch to tuck into it. Alice, the more forward of the two twins, never liked how much Y/N’s job at the vet clinic had drained her. 

“My last day was Friday,” Y/N confirmed, pouting slightly. She had to admit, she felt guilty that she didn’t even miss working at the clinic yet, quickly chalking it up to how busy she had been with the hybrids over the weekend. 

“Thank the Lord for that,” Laura chimed in, bouncing a babbling Kai on her knee while adjusting his tight brown curls. “That place was sucking the life out of you, honey.”

“Hey, you’re doing the cookout this Friday, right? Ben texted me… what should I bring? I was going to make a sangria or something,” Alice pondered, giving Heathcliff a scratch under his chin. 

Discussing the details of the cookout for a few moments, she and the twins decided on what they’d bring, the conversation turning towards Ben and Roy’s adoption of Daisy pretty quickly. Y/N brought up her idea for introducing Kai to Daisy, which Laura was already onboard for. 

“I’ve been meaning to introduce Kai to hybrids for some time now. Children really seem to love them, and there’s so many hybrids in Boston these days,” Laura explained, tugging on the end of one of her collarbone-length twisted braids. Y/N sucked in her cheeks, nodding. Would now be the time to tell them about her hybrids?

“Y/N, by the way, when Ben texted me… he said you had news,” Alice raised a manicured eyebrow, setting her bowl down with a mischievous smile. Heart plummeting to her ass, Y/N cursed in betrayal. 

“Ugh! He can never keep his mouth shut, I swear!” Y/N groaned, shoving her face into a pillow in dismay. Her heart began to race, knowing that if the twins began to shout at her through the phone, the hybrids would hear every word. Her headphones were missing from her nightstand, so unfortunately there was nothing she could do if that possibility came to fruition. 

“So, what is it? Are you dating again?” Laura urged gently, getting up to put a sleepy Kai in his crib. 

“God, no. I, uh…” Y/N began, sweating profusely, “I adopted hybrids. Friday.”

Silence rang out on the other ends of the lines, Y/N biting her lip hard enough to draw some blood. And then, deafening chaos. 

“You WHAT?” Alice roared, spooking Heathcliff off of the couch and out of view. Cringing, Y/N watched Laura scramble out of Kai’s room to bolt into her own, shutting the door so she could join in on the yelling. 

“I thought hybrids weirded you out?! Y/N, what happened? Are you going through a quarter-life crisis?” Laura enunciated in an intense tone, looking like a stern school teacher. 

“Guys, please! They can probably hear you,” Y/N begged desperately, pulling her quilt over her head in an attempt to muffle the sounds coming from her phone. 

“How many? Y/N, I can’t even begin to articulate how insane this is for you. I mean seriously, are they kids? Do you have men living in your house right now?” Alice began to panic, running a hand through her bouncy curls in distress. Cringing, Y/N turned the volume on her phone down to the lowest possible setting, trying to ignore her bloody lip in the reflection of the camera. 

“Y/N. How many? You know what, fuck it. I’m coming over and canceling my reading tonight,” Alice continued after Y/N’s tense silence, the window showing her frantically getting off her couch to yank her car keys from the hook by her apartment door. 

“Alice, no–” Y/N yelped, bolting upright in bed as Laura joined in on the chaos. 

“Alice, relax! You can’t cancel that reading, your publisher’s going to be there,” Laura reminded her twin, her pretty face pinched in concern as she continued to tug on her braids anxiously. With a groan, Alice dropped her keys on the phone, giving Y/N a scathing look. Taking a deep breath, Y/N decided to give all of the details to prevent any more rash ideas. 

“There’s seven of them, and yeah, they’re men…” Y/N began in a shaky voice, trying to ignore Laura’s gasps of horror. “They’re really sweet, all of them, and I think things are going very well so far.”

“Yeah, until one decides to enter your bedroom in the middle of the night!” Alice interjected, shaking her head constantly. Blanching, Y/N coughed, wondering how the hell she was going to face the hybrids later that evening, God forbid they heard the conversation. 

“No, that’s not going to happen. I… trust them. Listen, they were all going to be sold to a hybrid hunter, and I just couldn’t bear the thoughts of what would happen to them after I saw them at the shelter. No one should have to live like that, running for their lives, an object of sport,” Y/N defended the hybrids, thinking about shutting herself into her closet to lessen the chances of Namjoon hearing her just a few feet down the hall. 

“Well, that’s all very valiant of you, Y/N, but let’s be real, here. They’re still men that you just met, living in your home!” Alice spat in a more hushed tone, as all of their yelling had woken Kai up even through the phone. 

“I hate to be a bummer, too, Y/N, but Alice is right. I’m really worried for you. Hybrids are very strong, and they still have animalistic instincts. You’re not used to being around hybrids, you’ve practically avoided them your entire life, apart from Keaon when we were little,” Laura added, trying her best to soothe Kai wailing from his crib. 

“God, what’s with people bringing up Keaon lately, I swear…” Y/N huffed, so aggravated that she was thinking of asking Jeongguk for a cigarette after she hung up. “I’ll be fine! I was a vet, remember, that has to count for something. And my parents already met them. There's the cookout on Friday, too, so you guys can meet them and make an assessment then.”

“Oh, so you want us to wait four more days for the cookout to feel out whether they’re creeps or not?” Alice deadpanned, Y/N yanking her hair at her roots. 

“C-creeps,” Y/N squeaked, tearing a bigger hole into her bloodied lip. 

“They might be! For all you know,” Alice replied, though her tone began to soften when realizing how upset Y/N was becoming. “Just please be careful, Y/N. You’re known to be too trusting.”

“Yeah, honey. We just want you to be safe,” Laura grit out, hefting Kai out of his crib and trying to juggle the phone while she pat his back. Y/N sighed raggedly, grateful for her caring friends, but quite sad that she seemed to be one of the only people so far to actually believe that the hybrids were non-threatening. 

“I’m safe, I promise,” Y/N murmured, gathering up her quilt to combat the chill she felt washing over her. The drafty window in her bathroom had to be tackled this week. Alice audibly cringed at Kai’s sobs, increasing in volume steadily. 

“I gotta go, my loves. I think he needs to be changed. Be safe, Y/N, and good luck tonight, Al,” Laura shifted Kai to sit on her hip, his tear-stained cheeks wobbling as he cried. 

“Shit. I should start prepping for my reading, too,” Alice began ruffling some papers off-screen, though Y/N could tell she was still unconvinced by the whole hybrid thing. 

“Call you guys on Thursday?” Y/N asked in a small voice, guilty that she had upset her friends. 

“Of course. We need regular status updates or I will come over there,” Alice threatened, the edge in her tone gone, however. She offered Y/N a half-smile, the three women exchanging “I love you”s before hanging up. 

Groaning as her phone hit the pillow beside her, Y/N ran a palm over her face tiredly. She strained her ears for a moment, trying to locate where the hybrids were in the house, but she was met with complete silence. Frowning, she decided there was no way she was going out there so soon after the messy phone call, pulling her laptop onto her chest and fumbling blindly for the thick envelope of adoption certificates she had received at the shelter that morning resting on the nightstand. 

The papers were weighty, a gold seal stamped over each one and the thick script of both her name and the hybrid’s name printed in stark black ink. Squinting, she searched for the ID number on the certificate she was holding– Yoongi’s, spotting it with an ah-ha at the bottom left corner of the paper. Excitement surrounding learning some new things about the hybrids, taking over the discomfort she was feeling over the phone call with her friends, Y/N brought up the hybrid database on her laptop, plugging the 9-digit ID for Yoongi into the appropriate search bar. The screen took a few moments to load, before a spreadsheet flashed onto the page. 

The first thing she noticed was an outdated picture of Yoongi, from probably about three years ago. His cheeks were filled out, and he looked a lot healthier, it dawning on Y/N that he now had dark circles under his green-brown eyes. Pouting at the picture, she recognized the second as him in his leopard form, the background most definitely of the shelter she had adopted him at. The rest of the spreadsheet had information. 

Yoongi, Min; panthera pardus. DOB 03/09/93. Place of Origin: unknown. Was illegally claimed without formal adoption by Boston, MA “The Black Lodge” bar and nightclub owner **** ******, along with hybrid’s mother of same species. Performed illegal hybrid labor since childhood at the place of business. Mother now deceased. Was turned into Gerry’s Hybrids by nightclub owner’s son upon his father’s death. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID PHYSICALLY RESISTED APPREHENSION ONCE REPORTED, TWO AGENTS INJURED. 

Hand over her mouth as she read, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like her heart was breaking. Even with the small amount of information on Yoongi, it was deeply personal; she didn’t even know Yoongi had a mother, as the majority of hybrids were lab created. Anger rose up in her when she thought of Yoongi being kicked out of a place he had known all his life, saving the form to her computer and reluctantly moving to the next certificate at random. 

Jimin, Park; canis latrans. DOB 10/13/95. Place of Origin: Yellowstone National Park Hybrid Lab. Worked as ranch hand in the Yellowstone National Park from birth, up until 07/22 of the current calendar year. Abandoned position, and illegally crossed-country by bus, was found wandering streets of Boston, MA in a frantic manner. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID HAS BEEN TRAINED IN SEVERAL FORMS OF SELF DEFENSE AND IS EXPERT IN SELF PRESERVATION, AS PER HIS PREVIOUS EMPLOYMENT TRAINING. EXHIBITS ANXIETY IN CLOSED SPACES. 

Eyebrows pulling together, Y/N examined the lovely picture of Jimin on the form, his smile just as blinding through the screen. He had on the hat that she had returned to him upon taking the hybrid’s previous belongings back from Gerry. Jimin, nor Yoongi, for that matter, seemed to strike her as a 6/10 “threat level”. Shaking her head, she figured that whoever wrote the spreadsheets were likely biased against hybrids in general, how ironic. Eagerly, she moved on – Hoseok’s sweet face filling her screen with an extremely old picture of him, perhaps during his adolescence.

Hoseok, Jung; vulpes vulpes. DOB 02/18/94. Place of Origin: Paris Hybrid Lab. Raised in labs internationally since birth. Transferred 24 times. Remained unadopted throughout, despite several possible adoptions that ultimately fell through. Has aged out of lab adoption centers by the time he had reached Boston, MA. Upon unsuccessfully meeting requirements for shelters in MA due to temperament, hybrid was brought to Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 5/10 - HYBRID KNOWN FOR DECEIT, CUNNINGNESS AND ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF SEVERAL SHELTERS. HYBRID EXCELS IN ATHLETICS AND CAN SUCCESSFULLY OUTRUN PURSUERS. FLIGHT RISK.

Eyes bugging out at the “24 times” Hoseok had been moved around the world, from shelter to shelter, Y/N muttered a colorful cuss. It was no wonder Hoseok had been so weird when Jimin asked where he was from, Hoseok was seemingly from both everywhere and nowhere. 

Next, Y/N plugged in Taehyung’s ID number, thrumming her fingers against her laptop while the page loaded. Taehyung’s picture was extremely blurry, almost akin to a mugshot. Taehyung’s eyes looked vacant in the photo, Y/N shivering, then gasping when she saw how little information the form had. 

Taehyung, Kim; ursus arctos middendorffi. DOB 12/30/95. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in anonymously that an unadopted hybrid had been hiding at a 24-HR cafe for several weeks in Boston, MA before the hybrid was dropped off at Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 8/10 - HYBRID EXTREMELY UNWILLING TO BE APPREHENDED, COMBATIVE. DUE TO SIZE OF THE HYBRID WHEN SHIFTED, HYBRID IS TO BE REGARDED WITH CAUTION. MULTIPLE INJURIES TO AGENTS UPON APPREHENSION. 

Frowning, Y/N was disappointed she couldn’t glean more information about the already elusive and enigmatic Taehyung. He had told her he was from Alaska, which was missing from the form. Other than that, all Y/N gained from his form was his whereabouts just before his adoption. Again, she wrote off his ‘threat level’ as an over exaggeration; Taehyung was so gentle.

Grasping Jeongguk’s certificate while twisting her mouth, Y/N waited to see his smug face show up on her laptop screen. Like Taehyung’s, Jeongguk’s picture looked like a mugshot, his serious expression making her snort a little into her palm. Part of her wished it was an older picture– she loved seeing Hoseok’s from youth. 

Jeongguk, Jeon; cervus canadensis. DOB 09/01/97. Place of Origin: Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers. Raised with others of his species in the supplier lab, hybrid was noted as uncharacteristically aggressive compared to kin. Hybrid is known to have escaped from Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers at age of 20 and has been at large since. Was caught by hybrid patrol in abandoned Steinert Hall (Boston, MA) with several thousand dollars worth of recording equipment and other oddities. Hybrid was promptly brought to Gerry’s Hybrids due to extremely volatile behavior during apprehension. THREAT LEVEL: 9/10 - HYBRID CONSIDERED HIGHLY DANGEROUS. WAS ARMED WITH WEAPONS AT THE TIME OF APPREHENSION, SKILLED AT FIGHTING, ERUPTIVE PERSONALITY. FLIGHT RISK. 

Y/N was rigid in her spot on her bed, not quite expecting so many brand new details into who Jeongguk was. Perhaps in her let-down of Taehyung’s report, she had expected Jeongguk’s to be similar. Biting her nails, she scanned his information again, wondering if everything she had read so far was overstated. While Jeongguk was certainly rude, he had yet to demonstrate dangerous behavior. Additionally, she had no idea what a supplier lab was.

Besides, what piqued her curiosity the most was not only his journey from Los Angeles to Boston, but how he was caught. Steinert Hall was an old piano concert hall in the heart of Boston that had been abandoned for years– he must have broken in– but why? Further, she wondered about the items he was caught with, recording equipment and “other oddities”. Was he filming a movie? The thought made her even more confused, and it was not like she could ask him yet. She had a feeling she’d be met with anger. 

The room began to get a little darker, late afternoon creeping up on her as she hurried to get through the last two hybrids. Setting the others aside carefully, she picked up Namjoon’s certificate, sliding a finger over his ID number. To her shock, barely anything showed up for Namjoon, not even a picture. 

Namjoon, Kim; canis lupus occidentalis. DOB 09/12/94. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in that an unadopted hybrid was participating in a club illegally. Hybrid was apprehended in shifted form around the outskirts of Boston, MA, outside of a mobile home. Brought to Gerry’s Hybrids promptly due to shifted state and volitility. THREAT LEVEL: 10/10 - HIGHLY DANGEROUS. INJURED 6 AGENTS SERIOUSLY. BEHAVIOR IS EXTREMELY AGGRESSIVE. SUSPECTED TO BE RAISED IN WILDERNESS DUE TO BEHAVIOR. 

Swallowing hard, Y/N cast a look over towards her bedroom door, convinced that Namjoon could hear her thoughts as she read through his information. She had only interacted with Namjoon for only a few hours, and he didn’t seem as though he had been raised in the wilderness; Y/N just assumed he was slow to hand his trust over. Though– he injured six agents? This came as quite the surprise to Y/N, as she had naively thought that agents that brought in stray hybrids were trained to be cautious; however, she had come to a strong conclusion that the agents were likely people who provoke stray hybrids into aggression. Thinking once again about Yoongi, who was one of the most gentle of the hybrids so far, she couldn’t imagine him injuring somebody unwarranted. 

Heaving a great sigh, she plugged in Seokjin’s number before tucking all of the certificates safely back inside the envelope on her nightstand. To her sudden delight, a very old picture of Seokjin was attached to the page, estimating him to be about twelve in the photo. His cheeks were cutely rounded, though his expression was quite stoic. 

Seokjin, Kim; panthera onca. DOB: 12/04/92. Place of Origin: Milwaukee Hybrid Lab. Raised in a group of over 300 exotic hybrids to be sold to circuses and zoos. Hybrid was exemplary subject at lab, was sold to Cirque ******* at age of 22. Traveled and performed with the circus up until 08/13 of the current calendar year following incident at a show in Boston, MA resulting in hybrid injury. Hybrid was left at Gerry’s Hybrids, consequently. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID DOES NOT HAVE A PAST OF AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR PRIOR TO INJURY. SUFFERS FROM EXTREME PTSD, ANXIETY AND PHOBIAS - IF TRIGGERED, HYBRID BECOMES ALARMED AND POSSIBLY DANGEROUS. FLIGHT RISK. 

Y/N felt nauseous reading about Seokjin’s past, wanting to hurl her laptop clear across the room. Sweet Seokjin, the one who didn’t mind when she grabbed his wrist to pull him along, the one who polished off the bacon that morning, had suffered such an abrupt abandonment recently. To learn that was how hybrids were treated by a company that was entrusted with his care, with such little regard to what happens to them after they are no longer “of use”, made Y/N sick to her stomach. All she wanted was to dash into Seokjin’s room to gather him up in a hug, recalling how feverish and dismayed he was the day he had arrived in the house. He had recovered remarkably well, considering, but Y/N still felt he’d have a long way to go before he truly recovered from the experience. 

Laying back in bed, desperately trying to process everything she’d read, her brain was a jumbled mess. Echoes of her friend’s valid concerns on whether or not she could handle the seven hybrids bounced around in her skull; and guilt crept into her body as she doubted whether or not she could. Of course, she would never consider bringing them back, abandoning them again, but she wanted them to live happy lives. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if all of them would truly ever be comfortable around her, considering their past treatments. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to hide her anxiety from them that night, Yoongi’s conversation with her the previous night coming back to her once more. They’d be able to sniff out her nervous sweat from a mile away. 

The more she thought about her conversation with Yoongi, minor details came back to her. Namely, before they were interrupted, Yoongi had begun to talk about something called scenting. She never got around to asking him about it earlier that day, as he had promptly dashed up to the piano after returning from the shopping center. Curiously, she reached for her laptop she had pushed off her legs in disgust, googling “hybrid scenting” and clicking on a wiki page at random. 

Again, Y/N’s nausea returned. According to the article, hybrids, in order to properly bond with the humans that adopt them, must “scent” the human to feel secure. Hybrids are known to be possessive over the humans in their lives, particularly their adoptive human, and will initiate their scenting ritual once comfortable enough around the human. Scenting can happen often or rarely depending on hybrid type, predators are likely to scent more frequently, but it wasn’t an exact data collection. The actual ritual included a bite, one that drew blood from the human and in a location close to arteries (where scents are apparently “concentrated” to hybrids), before saliva from the hybrid soothes and “cauterizes” the wound. Feeling her stomach flip at the thought of any of the hybrids not only biting her, but then soothing the wound with a swipe of a tongue, was so overwhelming she had to shut her laptop and bolt out of bed. 

Cursing Yoongi internally for not disclosing scenting first, Y/N fanned her face frantically while she paced about the room. Should she bring it up to them? The thought was humiliating, but the article stated the longer the hybrids wait to scent their adoptive human, the more uncomfortable it gets for them. Apart from Yoongi, none of them even mentioned it yet, which was concerning to her. She knew that the shame fell on her, for not knowing basically a thing about hybrids in general. However, she still didn’t feel ready to bring it up over dinner. 

Yelping at the sound of a large thump coming from above her, Y/N slapped her palms over her face a few times to return the color back to her cheeks, her appearance in the full-length mirror positively scandalized. The sound of Jeongguk’s heavy stomping from back and forth into his bathroom made her spring into action, wanting to bolt into the kitchen and work on dinner so Yoongi wouldn’t have to. Casting one last look at herself in the mirror, feeling like she looked calm enough to bump into one of them without raising suspicion, Y/N slowly pushed her bedroom door open and peeked her head out. The hallway was empty. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N marched out into the hall, skipping past Namjoon’s door; unsurprisingly it swung open once she reached the end of the hall. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder, offering Namjoon a tiny smile as he poked his head out of the door. His silvery hair was damp and in his face, likely from the shower. She hadn’t even heard it turn on. Y/N waited for Namjoon to catch up with her, his expression hard to read once he was inches away. Finding it hard to look him in the eyes, Y/N resumed her route to the kitchen without a word, Namjoon hot on her heels. 

“Who was on the phone?” Namjoon demanded, a slight edge to his voice but the volume of it was not enough to frighten Y/N. Blowing hair out of her face, she knew Namjoon could hear her, but she could still pray the others hadn’t. 

“My friends from childhood, they’re twin sisters, Laura and Alice,” Y/N answered simply, not wanting to over explain. The kitchen was dim, Y/N flicking on all the lights and gesturing for Namjoon to sit on one of the barstools. Lifting a brow at her, Namjoon hesitantly sat down, Y/N trying to keep the mood light. At least he seemed to have cooled down from whatever ticked him off after getting ice cream. 

“They don’t like us. They think you’re in danger,” Namjoon leaned back on the barstool, arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, Y/N retrieved two wine glasses from the cabinet, pouring a healthy amount of Cabernet for the two of them and sliding the glass for Namjoon across the island. Eyebrow shooting up further into his hairline, Namjoon watched her take a hearty swig. 

“What do you want me to say, Namjoon? I made an uncharacteristic decision, and to be fair, you are all men. They have a right to be worried about me, no matter how unfounded it seems to you. It’s not that they don’t like you, either. I think if anything, they’re questioning my sanity,” Y/N stated calmly, finally mustering up the courage to stare at him directly in the eyes, leaning over the island. Taking another sip of wine, she waited for the wheels to turn in his head. 

“Do you think you’re in danger?” Namjoon continued to interrogate after a few moments, long fingers running up and down the stem of his wine glass. Humming, Y/N felt the red wine warm her belly, close enough to Namjoon to feel his breath fan over her face. 

“No. Should I?” Y/N countered, pushing herself off of the counter in search of something to scrounge up for dinner. She heard the scrape of glass across the granite island, peeking over her shoulder to catch Namjoon, eyes cast upwards mid-eyeroll, glass to his lips. 

Silent for a few moments, Y/N started to hum a tune suspiciously close to Smells Like Teen Spirit, rummaging through one of the lower cabinets for a rice cooker. Wondering just how much rice she’d have to make for eight people, she hefted the appliance and a 15 lb bag of sushi rice onto the counter beside the stove. Biting her lip, then wincing at the pain from the hole she had bitten into it earlier, Y/N estimated around 3.5 cups of uncooked rice in the pot, before bringing it to the sink to rinse it a few times. Pulling up the sleeves of her thermal, washed the rice until the water ran mostly clear. 

“I think you’d be a fool if you didn’t,” Namjoon suddenly pointed out, Y/N looking at him with surprise. His wine glass was empty, his eyes narrowed at her. Scoffing, she placed the pot of rice into the appliance, drying her hands on her sweatpants and switching on the rice cooker. Taking a deep breath, she painted a lopsided smile on her face, pouring Namjoon and herself a second glass. 

“Well, call me a fool then, for being optimistic,” Y/N muttered over the rim of her wine glass, Namjoon’s shoulders stiffening a fraction, his ear flickering. “Besides, the twins will be here for a cookout on Friday. If you’re still upset by then, you can talk it out with them. I think they’re scarier than you, Namjoon.”

“Please,” Namjoon snorted humorlessly, turning his head to drink from his glass. Shrugging, Y/N returned to the dinner making process, pulling vegetables, sauces, and a package of flank steak and the egg carton at random. She decided to make a bunch of things to stick in a rice bowl, and the hybrids could choose what they wanted. 

While rinsing some green onions, thankfully without any more questioning from the wolf hybrid brooding on the barstool across from her, Y/N heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Perking up a little, perhaps hoping for someone to brighten up the mood, Y/N craned her neck towards the kitchen entrance. 

“Hey Seokjin! How are you doing?” Y/N grinned, pushing down the sadness that surfaced when she remembered the information she had just learned about him. Grinning back, Seokjin came up to her side, watching her chop the green onions, nodding once at Namjoon. “Wine?”

“Hmm, sure. I’m good, also. What are you making?” Seokjin cocked his head, putting his hand on her shoulder to reach a wine glass for himself when it was too high and far back for Y/N to get on her own. Shuddering at the sudden contact, Y/N hurriedly poured him a glass of the Cabernet, returning to the vegetable prep. 

“I’m making some vegetables, some beef, maybe a few fried eggs… figured we can just make our own rice bowls with ingredients you like,” Y/N explained, slicing through a bell pepper. Seokjin leaned his hip against the counter beside her, watching carefully. 

“What happened to your lip? Are you okay?” Seokjin asked, a strong current of concern in his voice. Absently brushing her fingers by her lip, but not touching the skin, Y/N tried to shoot him a comforting look. 

“Oh I’m fine, don’t worry about me! I just bit it too hard. Happens all the time,” Y/N waved her hand, sliding the sliced peppers into a bowl with the flat of her knife. Seokjin grunted softly, apparently unconvinced, eyeing Namjoon distrustfully. The jaguar hybrid moved to sit on a barstool as well, a few away from Namjoon, settling in to watch her cook. 

“Hoseok made me do “yoga” with him,” Seokjin informed her, his lips curling around the apparently unfamiliar word, making air quotes simultaneously. Using her elbow to wipe a stray tear from her eye chopping an onion, Y/N giggled picturing the two hybrids meditating side-by-side. 

“Really? I love yoga, though I haven’t done it in a while…” Y/N tried to subtly monitor the two hybrids sitting across from her in case of an incident, Namjoon leaning his body across the island to help himself to more wine. Finding the bottle empty, he heaved a sigh, getting to his feet. 

He was easily able to find the wine cooler, carefully reading each label before selecting the same brand the three of them had been drinking, Seokjin and Y/N exchanging surprised looks. Namjoon used a sharp thumbnail to slice open the foil covering the cork on the bottle, frowning once he realized the bottle wasn’t open completely. He began opening drawers at random, likely searching for the opener, Y/N eyeing him while she began stir-frying some of the vegetables. Each time he came up empty-handed, his ears drooped further, looking almost adorable. 

“Need some help?” Came Yoongi’s gruff voice suddenly, pretty much materializing from the entrance to the kitchen from the parlor. Already feeling the wine dizzying up her head, she was grateful for any help at all to finish dinner. Making a small noise of delight, Y/N nodded, and Yoongi immediately began to assess the marinades and flank steak she had brought out from the fridge, using a rubber band from his wrist to tie up his long locks. Y/N made a mental note to dig up her bag of scrunchies to offer him later that night. 

While Yoongi and Seokjin began to chit-chat about the jaguar hybrid’s yoga experience, Namjoon had successfully located the bottle opener in the drawer beside where Y/N was stir-frying, aggressively trying to jam the corkscrew into the cork with gritted teeth. He definitely didn’t know how to use it. Taking pity on him, and more or less wanting a fresh glass of wine for herself, Y/N set her wooden spoon down, holding her palm out for the corkscrew. 

“Here, let me, honey,” Y/N stepped to the side, taking the wine opener from the wolf hybrid’s slackened grip, his entire body locking up at the sound of the pet name. Internally, she scolded herself as heat crept up her neck, but it was hard to resist the term of endearment when he looked so cute when he was frustrated. Hopefully, he wasn’t insulted. “It’s tricky, I’ll show you how my dad taught me.”

She briefly explained the steps, pulling up the cork halfway, before stepping away once more and talking him through the last step. Y/N could have sworn his ears, the human set adorned with simple silver hoops, turned a faint shade of pink, but she also could have imagined it. Namjoon muttered a thanks, swiftly refilling her glass for her, before dashing away a bit clumsily back to his own seat. Chuckling, she took a sip of her wine and returned to the frying pan, her elbow brushing Yoongi’s as he began both cooking the steak and making what appeared to be tamagoyaki in a second rectangle pan she didn’t even know she owned. Damn, she thought, he works fast. 

“Can I try some of that?” Yoongi jutted his chin towards her wine glass while he reached for the salt pinch bowl, his tail brushing the back of her knee with the movement. Wordlessly, she passed her glass over, Yoongi grinning slyly as he took a delicate sip. A low hum of enjoyment came from the back of his throat, Y/N hurriedly cracking some pepper into her frying pan to cover up her fluster. 

“Want a glass?” Y/N cleared her throat, Yoongi taking another sip and raising his eyebrows at her. 

“No, we can just share this one,” Yoongi chuckled, setting the wine glass on his side of the counter with a clink. Eyes bugging out of her skull, Y/N squeaked out an “okay”, trying her best to focus on finishing up her part of the meal prepping. Yoongi seemed to enjoy her reaction to his words, snickering every few seconds as he rolled up the tamagoyaki with a pair of chopsticks. 

“You had an interesting phone call, huh?” Yoongi passed her the wine glass after several moments, Y/N reeling as she was snapped out of eavesdropping on Seokjin’s attempts to initiate conversation with Namjoon. 

“Shit. Did everyone hear it?” Y/N hissed, after almost choking on her mouthful of wine. “You were upstairs, for Christ’s sake, weren’t you?” 

“Yeah, we did. And yes, I was,” Yoongi answered playfully, covering his completed steak dish and moving to slice the tamagoyaki. “I mean, your friends weren’t exactly speaking softly.”

“No, they weren’t,” Y/N agreed mournfully, wondering if the remaining hybrids had their feelings hurt, due to their absences. Currently, it was the longest she had gone without seeing Taehyung, other than when she was sleeping, since she brought him home. “Next time I’ll wear headphones,” she added determinedly. 

“Mmm… that might help. Might not. Super hearing, remember?” Yoongi pointed to one of his spotted ears, a teasing lilt to his voice. Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, abandoning him by the stove to check on the rice. Muttering to herself, Y/N turned to the island with a rice paddle, wishing Yoongi hadn’t stolen her wine glass for the time being. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a third person sitting at the island beside Seokjin, swirling a whiskey glass in his hand.

“Oh! Didn’t hear you come in, Jimin!” Y/N exclaimed, catching the coyote hybrid’s attention at once. Flashing one of his beautiful smiles, Y/N relaxed a fraction. Jimin was so polite, even if he had heard Laura and Alice over the phone, Y/N hardly expected him to say anything about it. “You guys have a knack for sneaking up on me.”

“Darling Y/N, it’s not our fault you have plain old human ears,” Hoseok’s voice suddenly came from her left, making her flinch so hard she dropped the rice paddle on the floor. Gritting her teeth, she turned to scold him for being mean, his face apologetic as he bent to get the rice paddle for her. He was dressed in a set of pajamas, with his new slippers on, freshly showered; grinning at her as he extended the rice paddle out to her. “Whoops, sorry. Forgot you were clumsy, too.”

“Hoseok!” Seokjin barked from his seat at the island, corners of his lips turned downwards in disapproval. Hoseok made that strange whistle tone Y/N was becoming increasingly familiar with, his expression becoming uneasy once his chocolatey eyes landed on Namjoon sitting at the end of the island. “Knock it off,” Seokjin ordered. 

“Relax, Jinnie, I’m only teasing,” Hoseok replied, his voice a little strained as he patted Y/N on the back. Grimacing, she went back to fluffing up the rice in the cooker, Yoongi shooing Hoseok over to the breakfast nook by handing him the platter of sliced tamagoyaki. Starting to feel a bit sweaty, the red wine coursing through her with a vengeance, Y/N polished off her shared glass of wine much to Yoongi’s dismay. 

Y/N snuck a look at Namjoon, who had turned his head to stare at Hoseok with mild interest. Namjoon’s cheeks were pink with the alcohol, and a majority of his steeliness had softened. Absently, Y/N found herself pouring him a glass of water from the fridge door dispenser, sliding it across the island to the wolf hybrid while Seokjin continued to scold Hoseok from his seat. 

Her and Yoongi worked quickly to place everything on the breakfast nook, Y/N feeling quite tipsy suddenly as she found herself giggling at everything that came out of Yoongi and Seokjin’s mouths. Vaguely, she heard Yoongi ask her if she could call upstairs for Taehyung and Jeongguk, obediently following his direction and slightly swaying her way to the foyer. The loud voices of the hybrids from the kitchen had her practically squealing like an idiot, so pleased that she wasn’t alone in that big house anymore. Upon reaching the banister of the stairs, Y/N gripped one of the carved balusters with clammy hands. 

“Jeongguk, Taehyung! Dinner is ready,” Y/N shouted up the stairs, probably more loudly than necessary. Humming to herself, she caught an image of her reflection in the hallway mirror, her cheeks flushed and eyes a bit squinted. Two sets of footsteps bounded down the wooden staircase rapidly. Without wasting a second, Jeongguk flew right by her, head turned to look at her suspiciously as he passed. Pouting at his frame retreating into the kitchen, she turned back to Taehyung, who was leaning over the banister she was gripping, staring at her curiously. 

“Were you drinking wine?” Taehyung cocked his head, a ghost of a smile across his lips as he leaned in close to her. Both overwhelmed and overjoyed to see him, Y/N nodded enthusiastically. 

“Did you find the record player, Tae?” Y/N asked eagerly, wanting to push a stray curl out of his face to see his pretty garnet-colored eyes better. She didn’t even register the nickname for him that had easily fallen from her lips, but Taehyung certainly did. 

“Tae?” His deep voice rumbled with amusement, leaning even closer to her, Y/N widened her eyes, practically able to count his eyelashes. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. 

“Y-yeah, sorry, it just sort of fell out,” Y/N spoke nervously, barely above a whisper due to his proximity. Taehyung shook his head, chuckling, his curls brushing her forehead with the moment. 

“No, I like it,” Taehyung quickly assured her, pulling away from her personal space and descending the remaining stairs. “Let’s go, Jimin is wondering where you are.”

Trying to catch her breath, Y/N turned to gaze into the kitchen, noticing Jimin heading to the foyer with his whiskey glass in his hand, a quizzical expression on his face. Hurrying after Taehyung, who kept shooting her mirthful glances, Y/N swore under her breath. Those hybrids were definitely trying to mess with her, she concluded, stumbling over her own feet to catch up with Taehyung’s long strides. 

Thankfully, when she felt herself nearly toppling over by the coffee bar, Jimin caught her by her elbow, tutting in disapproval with a touch of merriment in his eyes. Sheepishly, she let him steady her, feeling like she was being herded as he walked behind her with both hands around her upper arms to steer her towards the breakfast nook. Waving Jimin off, embarrassed, Y/N slid into the booth next to Hoseok. Jimin, snickering, returned to his barstool beside Seokjin. 

“You should take it easy with that red,” Hoseok murmured into her ear, scooching his own glass further away from her when she surreptitiously tried to sneak a sip. “One of us is going to have to scrape you off the floor.”

“No you won’t. I can drink,” Y/N insisted, slightly offended. She stuck out her lower lip at the fox hybrid, who appeared to be trying not to laugh at her. Muttering something like “mean fox”, Y/N begrudgingly took a gulp from a glass of water that had somehow appeared in front of her as if by magic. 

“Sure,” Hoseok hummed, accepting two bowls of rice from Yoongi, ferrying them back and forth to everyone in the kitchen. Hoseok set a bowl gently in front of Y/N, his arm pressing into her’s with how close she had sat next to him. 

As she was piling on some vegetables into her bowl, a couple of the hybrids leaned across the breakfast nook to add an ingredient to their own dishes before returning to a barstool. Unfortunately, not all of them could fit in the breakfast nook, Taehyung across from her, Jeongguk squeezed in between the Kodiak hybrid and Hoseok. Munching on a piece of tamagoyaki, Y/N flinched when she felt the empty space beside her fill up clumsily by Namjoon, who had inelegantly toppled into the booth with his bowl. Surprised, Y/N pressed closer to Hoseok, trying to free up more space for Namjoon’s large frame. Namjoon must have been more tipsy than she thought, barely even noticing Taehyung scowling at him from across the table. In fact, Namjoon seemed completely relaxed for once, his cheeks full of rice and meat as he ate. 

“Ugh,” Hoseok groaned lowly, blood in his face draining as he pushed food around in his bowl with his chopsticks. Y/N patted his back soothingly, hoping he’d be able to push past his fear of Namjoon enough to eat. Especially considering Namjoon had rice stuck to his face, he wasn’t exactly threatening at the moment. 

“The tamagoyaki is delicious, Yoongi!” Y/N called over to the island, the leopard hybrid’s ears immediately perking up. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked at her, holding up a stir-fried pepper with his chopsticks. 

“Good job with the vegetables, yourself,” he returned, his sharp incisors flashing as he took a bite of the pepper. 

Luckily, the meal passed by amicably. Taehyung had worked up the courage to start a conversation with Hoseok, likely due to noticing the fox hybrid’s discomfort with Namjoon’s presence. As always, Jeongguk mostly kept to himself, but very visibly enjoyed the contents of his meal, even asking Yoongi for more rice. Y/N eased off of Hoseok a bit, his skin far too warm for her to comfortably lean against for a second longer, forcing her to be pressed closer to Namjoon. Thankfully, he seemed to be running a bit cooler than the fox hybrid, the fabric of his thermal soft against Y/N’s forearms. At the contact with her body heat, Namjoon jumped a little, his hand knocking over Y/N’s empty water glass. 

“Whoops! Good thing it’s empty,” Y/N giggled, righting the glass and peering at Namjoon’s startled face. He was staring at where their arms touched, tongue peaking out to catch some steak sauce on his lower lip. Making eye contact with her, Namjoon actually chuckled over his minor blunder, to Y/N’s delight. 

“Is this your first time drinking, or something, wolf?” Jeongguk suddenly accused, eyebrows lifted as he witnessed Y/N and Namjoon drunkenly giggling at nothing. Y/N frowned, hoping that he wasn’t about to sour another evening. Namjoon stopped laughing, setting his chopsticks down in a wobbly manner. 

“Yeah, actually,” Namjoon answered, Y/N’s eyes bugging out of her skull while Jeongguk pounded on his chest, a mouthful of rice going down the wrong way at the wolf hybrid’s response. 

“Wait, seriously?” Y/N gasped, a hand over her mouth in surprise. Namjoon nodded somberly, his lips pursed. Hoseok, quietly, tugged Y/N sweatpant leg, giving her a disbelieving look and mouthing what the fuck. 

“Yes, seriously. I didn’t really have many… opportunities to drink alcohol in my life,” Namjoon explained, eyes narrowing at Taehyung from across the table. Taehyung looked unimpressed with the conversation, sipping on his own glass of wine silently. 

“Jesus. I should have asked before liquoring you up earlier,” Y/N rubbed the back of her neck, swearing to herself to try and make more healthy choices as far as food and beverages go for the hybrids. Hoseok snorted next to her, draining his wine glass less shakily than he had before. At least he was loosening up, and she counted it as progress. 

“It’s alright. I knew what it was when you poured it, I could have refused,” Namjoon sighed, a small smile across his face as he pushed his empty rice bowl away. Glancing sideways at Jeongguk, Y/N watched him try to bite back laughter, crumpling up his napkin into his bowl.

Stirring ingredients into her bowl, Y/N tried her best to finish everything in it. Yoongi was truly an amazing chef, the seasonings on the steak were perfect and paired very well with the sweetness of the tamagoyaki. She could definitely get used to his cooking, thinking that he could even help her out with some of the food for the cookout on Friday. Additionally, she had the piano lesson with him on that day, the thought making her squirm in her seat with excitement.  

At the island, upon checking on the other three hybrids from her spot at the breakfast nook, it appeared that Yoongi and Seokjin were fighting over the last bit of steak. After a few moments of bickering, Seokjin reluctantly placed the piece of meat in Yoongi’s bowl, to Y/N’s relief. Jimin had finished his meal, and was by the fridge putting ingredients back in their places. 

After asking Namjoon to scooch out of the booth so she could help with clean-up, Y/N had to resist helping him get his footing, not wanting to push her luck with him that night. He caught himself on the frame of the door to the patio, Y/N truly amazed just how friendly he got with just a few glasses of wine. She wondered if in the morning, he would go back to being steely and interrogative. Hoseok, leaping out of his seat, immediately put distance between himself and the wolf hybrid, traipsing over to Jimin to chat. 

Moving to the island, she asked Seokjin if he ate enough while he bashfully nodded, not a speck of food left in his bowl. In fact, they had no leftovers, Y/N realized as she collected serving dishes, trying to be as balanced as possible so Hoseok wouldn’t accuse her of being a lightweight again. Squeezing past Yoongi at the sink, she deposited the dirty dishes beside him, searching for the granite cleaner. However, she didn’t get very far in her pursuit to clean up. 

“Hey! You two cooked, we can clean,” Jimin suddenly complained, pulling Yoongi away from the sink. “Miss Y/N, you should sit down, before you injure yourself,” he added calmly, snapping his fingers and pointing at her while shooting Seokjin a look. 

Opening her mouth to protest, she felt herself getting dragged away by the jaguar hybrid, who promptly lifted her off of her feet and planted her on a barstool. Squeaking when Seokjin wrapped his hands around her waist to lift her, Y/N felt torn that his hands were gone as quickly as they were there. Face on fire, she watched Jimin push Yoongi onto the seat next to her, the leopard hybrid rolling his eyes and instructing the coyote hybrid to not use steel wool on the ceramics. 

Forced to watch Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung tidy up the kitchen, Y/N drummed her fingers against the granite of the island, craning her neck to locate Jeongguk and Namjoon. The wolf hybrid, to her surprise, was viewing a video that Jeongguk was playing on his phone over the elk hybrid’s shoulder, his eyebrows pulled together in thought. Jeongguk, very quietly, was murmuring something urgently to Namjoon. Y/N wondered if hell froze over, or if she should go to the liquor store the following morning to pick up more cases of that particular Cabernet. 

Taehyung, returning an unused bag of edamame to the freezer, pulled out a popsicle for himself, leaning on the island beside her to enjoy it while Jimin and Hoseok finished the cleaning. Seokjin, who had excused himself to the bathroom five minutes prior, returned with the ends of his bangs wet, like he had splashed water on his face. 

“Taehyung, where did you get that? I want one too,” Hoseok whined, eyes zeroing on the frozen treat in his hands. Taehyung pointed to the freezer drawer with the treat, Hoseok scoffing. “Thanks, real specific,” He mumbled, rummaging through the freezer to locate one of the mango popsicles. 

Seokjin, wiping down the breakfast nook, began humming a tune, the timbre of his voice sweet, though the song was quite melancholy. Y/N gazed at him over her shoulder, catching the bittersweet smile on his face while he hummed. Sighing, Y/N settled into the barstool, enjoying the sounds of everyone’s voices as they bantered. Her eyelids felt heavy, her palm leaning on her cheek, her brain yelling at her to stay awake to enjoy more time with her companions. 

After a few moments, her eyes snapped open, an eerie silence filling the room. She registered Jimin, across from her at the sink, his eyes trained at the threshold of the kitchen and his ears perked up in alert. Blinking, she noticed Hoseok was locked up rigidly in the same manner, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong. Swiftly, she was cut off. 

From upstairs came a large thump, Y/N’s blood running cold. Yoongi, from beside her, wrapped a hand around her wrist, putting a finger to his lips when she looked at him in panic. Silent again, for a moment, she strained her ears the best she could, her heart racing. Was there an intruder in the house? Or worse, was the paranormal situation escalating before she could tell them about it? 

Breaking the silence came the sound of the record player in the piano room crackling to life, the sounds of an old jazz record floating down the stairs hauntingly. Feeling the room grow several degrees cooler, Y/N began to hyperventilate, totally unprepared for the night to take a horror-movie turn. Squeezing her wrist in an attempt to soothe, Yoongi gave her a pleading look. In addition to the record player going off on its own, several pitchy notes on the piano began to ring out periodically. Nausea welling up inside her, Y/N began to shake, praying to the sky an apparition wouldn’t appear in front of everyone. She had not the faintest idea of how to handle the situation, let alone correct it, in her current state. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Hoseok spoke first, baring his teeth and gazing towards the stairs. Jeongguk, who had moved away from Namjoon in the commotion, ran a hand through his hair in stress. He began to chuckle humorlessly, locking eyes with Y/N. 

“There’s a fucking spirit on the grounds, and now it’s inside,” Jeongguk pulled out the silver amulet from his pocket, turning it over between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been trying to exorcize the house since I got here.”

“What?” Y/N breathed, feeling faint and overwhelmed. Yoongi moved to rub her back soothingly, but not much could be done to calm her down. She was already seeing spots of darkness in her vision. 

“It’s malevolent. It’s been following you around since you were a girl,” Jeongguk added distractedly, rolling up his sleeves, revealing tattoos that Y/N realized seemed to be made up of religious symbols from several cultures. With that, he squared his shoulders, exiting the kitchen and bounding up the stairs with determined confidence. 

“Jeongguk, don’t go up there!” Y/N cried, stumbling out of Yoongi’s embrace and fleeing after the elk hybrid. Between the shouts from the rest of the hybrids in the kitchen and the increased lack of oxygen she wasn’t getting, as soon as she reached the foyer, Y/N felt her body hit the marble before she felt nothing more. 

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